Tars swore by the ethereal "Glow of Intuition" that so often looked after him: that deadpan, monotone voice belonged to the half-man, without a doubt. It was that unmistakable mental communication style—one you never forget after hearing it once. No matter how the words and sentences were mashed together, they always came out like an emotionless script being read aloud.

  Tars slowly turned his head.

  The voice continued to speak, and Tars tried to sense its origin through his mental link. Unfortunately, because it wasn't a physical sound, he couldn't use acoustics to pinpoint its location. He began to pace through the corner of the Great Cavern that had once served as the Grey-Neck Lord's nest, his hand tightly gripping the prismatic spatial fragment.

  Suddenly, the voice stopped.

  Tars halted his steps as well. He closed his eyes and pressed the shimmering shard against his forehead. When he opened them again, he looked directly at the ground beneath his feet.

  "Oh? That works too..." the voice reappeared.

  Tars bent down and began clearing away several large pieces of bone until an eye stared straight back at him.

  "How does he look now?"

  The lone eye stared unblinkingly. The question was abrupt, stripped of context. Tars looked at the scene before him, recalling the half-man's earlier words. He understood the subtext of the question but struggled for a moment to organize his thoughts.

  Finally, he said, "He... he is able to sit up now."

  Does that count as an answer? he wondered. But it's likely what this being wanted to know.

  Then, he reached down and picked up the half-skull. After hearing his response, the owner of the skull fell into a long silence, seemingly losing the desire for further conversation. Tars felt that if the thing had eyelids, it would have closed them in a gesture of resignation.

  "Are you... are you still alive?" Tars asked, hoping to squeeze some information out of this half-head that he couldn't get from the other half.

  "Of course."

  After a long pause, the half-skull finally popped out a response.

  Tars began walking back toward the half-man, looking for more openings to talk, but the entity stopped responding. After several failed attempts, Tars sensibly shut his mouth. He didn't want to push too far; he had framed his questions as idle, curious chatter, but "probing" was his limit. He was worried this mysterious head might go back and file a complaint against him, which would be incredibly awkward.

  He sprinted on his short legs until they practically smoked. Curiosity was his greatest motivator. Moreover, he discovered that the more intensely he exerted himself, the better the potion's effects became; even some of his old scars were beginning to vanish.

  When he reached the crossroads, the half-man appeared instantly without needing to be summoned. Without a word, the half-skull drifted over, and a complete, handsome man was reassembled right before his eyes.

  "Clever little kobold. You have done well."

  A few moments after the head was reattached, the being communicated again via mental energy. Tars blinked; the head showed no sign of ever having been damaged. It looked like a brand-new, perfect product. However, the man's image still flickered in and out of focus, as if he might vanish at any moment. And one thing was clear: he could no longer be called the "half-man."

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  Snap! The head was broken in half once more.

  The kobold opened his mouth to speak, then thoughtfully and slowly closed it. If the entity chose to do this, there must be a logical reason. As a mere observer with limited world experience, Tars decided to just watch. Just as he thought this, the half-head drifted into his hands—though this time, the eye was closed.

  "Next, let us attempt to complete this unique gift. This spatial fragment already shares a certain affinity with you. We shall treat it as a seed; I will help you steady its tremors," the man said.

  Tars felt the prismatic shard in his hand suddenly vibrate. He instinctively squeezed it tight. Under the pressure of his grip, the shard grew smaller and smaller, vanishing into his palm as if it had burrowed inside.

  He felt the fragment brush against his "Sea of Mental Energy" before drifting away; it hadn't actually entered his physical body. Instead, a tiny prismatic speck of light was now tethered to his mental space.

  "Very good."

  The being seemed not to have expected things to go so smoothly.

  Tars attempted to probe the tiny object connected to his mind. He unknowingly slipped into a meditative state. After a few mental "touches," everything suddenly opened up. It felt like an independent, pocket dimension. With a single thought, he opened his eyes; the beast-fang staff in his hand was gone. Through his mental perception, he saw the staff resting inside that space.

  I don't think I'll be needing a storage pouch anymore, he thought.

  The entity before him clearly noticed the success.

  "Now, you may roll your die. Cast the die into that space. I trust you know what to do."

  Tars felt a bit apprehensive. "There won't be a problem, will there?"

  "That space is currently in an extremely unique state. It is not merely a storage bag; you can attempt more useful things there. There may be additional surprises. Just like you, this world needs surprises."

  The tone remained the same, but the words felt slightly more "human" than before. Tars wasn't sure if it was just his imagination. Since the matter had come to this, he grit his teeth and decided to try.

  He pulled out the Demon's Die, and with a thought, the die appeared inside the space. But nothing happened.

  "Do not 'store' it," the entity suddenly intervened. "Do not place it in there as you would an item in a bag. You must stand here and cast it in."

  Tars nodded in a daze and tried again. Holding the die in his hand, he gave it a gentle toss forward. Simultaneously, he naturally connected with the space. A tiny, prismatic opening appeared—like a door, but so small that mice would have to line up to pass through it.

  As the die entered, the tiny spatial door snapped shut. Tars didn't wait for instructions; he focused his mind to perceive the state of the space. Rolling across the "floor" of the dimension, the die finally landed on the side representing one. Unfortunately, there were no targets inside for it to inflict blindness upon.

  "It's a one. Blindness," Tars said, returning to his senses.

  "Good. Continue. Until you reach a face representing a demonic trade."

  Following the entity's order, Tars continued to roll. The first few times were uneventful, and he gradually grew bolder. Whether he should be happy or terrified was unclear, but on the third try, he rolled a five—a trade face. This proved the half-man's earlier claim that the first few rolls "rarely brought misfortune" was complete nonsense. Of course, it couldn't be disproven either, as he had said "rarely," not "never."

  The die had landed on the long-awaited face, but the legendary trading demon failed to appear.

  Instead, the wondrous space connected to Tars began to ripple and tremble violently. It started to define itself, separating into clear directions—up, down, left, and right. Under the vibrations, the die began to spin continuously in mid-air. To Tars, the space had previously felt like a tangled mess of silk—functional but disorganized. Now, the tremors were combing it out, stretching and straightening countless irregular branches.

  Slowly, a regular, room-sized space formed, and it continued to expand. Simultaneously, a conspicuous, dark red fissure appeared in the corner of one wall.

  The thunderous tremors lasted a long time, finally stopping when the space had expanded to the size of a small village.

  "You can sense it now, can't you? A fissure leading to the Abyss should have been born within your space. It is a gateway, and part of the gift. Your Mage Armor catalyst came from the rump of a Brute Demon; as long as you cast that spell, you can easily disguise yourself as a minor demon to go on adventures. And with your mastery of Fetid Skin, everything is perfectly paired," the man said.