When Atlas opened his eyes again, he found himself lying on the grass in an open meadow. A dull ache throbbed at the back of his head, and his throat felt parched. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of his surroundings. At first, the world was a blur of colors, but his vision cleared quickly as consciousness returned.

  He sat up, clutching his head.

  The last thing he remembered was holding his father's hand in the hospital room, then a sudden, sharp pain in his chest, followed by darkness. What had happened? He pulled open the simple tracksuit covering his chest and looked at the skin over his heart. The number ‘4’ was inked there in black. He frowned and touched the mark; the skin felt smooth, no different from the rest.

  “What is going on?”

  His mind reeled. Was this a dream? Where was he?

  [Spiritual Succession nearing completion.]

  [Succession will be finalized once the successor proves competence.]

  [Task Assigned.]

  He stared blankly at the hologram floating before him. Was he hallucinating?

  [Succession Mission 1: First Blood]

  Target: Baek Yisoo

  Age: 34

  Title: Sword Dragon of the Heaven and Moon Sect

  Weakness: God Complex

  Threat Level: ★★ (Secret Successor)

  [Mission Details]

  Objective: Execute the target. Return to the starting point without leaving any traces.

  Location: Murim World > Song Empire > Yulin City

  Time Limit: 6 Hours

  Reward: The First Seal of Succession will be unlocked.

  Mission Type: [Solo Mission] – Cannot be shared.

  [Mission Path]

  Infiltrate!

  Execute!

  Escape!

  [Press ‘Accept’ to start the mission.]

  [Use ‘Inventory’ to access mission equipment.]

  [Use ‘Map’ to track the target.]

  [Murim World]: A martial dimension ruled by strength and Inner Energy. Three major powers dominate this world: the Murim Alliance, the Unorthodox Sects, and the Demonic Cult.

  Atlas stood up and stretched, control his limbs.

  He was wearing a simple blue sweatsuit. He raised a hand to his face, expecting the familiar bump of his hooked nose, but his fingers traced a straight, smooth bridge. His jawline felt different too - softer, yet defined.

  'My face... it's not mine.'

  A surge of panic rose in his chest, but he suppressed it instantly. Panic wouldn't help. If his appearance had changed, it meant no one here would recognize him as Atlas Sinclair.

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  'A perfect disguise,' he thought.

  “Inventory.”

  He spoke the command aloud, following the hologram's prompt. Another interface flickered into existence. There were three slots in total: two filled, one empty. Icons of a revolver and bullet the full slots.

  He reached into the holographic slot. His fingers wrapped around cold steel, and he pulled the weapon out. It was a revolver with a thick, menacing barrel. The weapon was massive, easily weighing two kilograms, making it unwieldy for an untrained hand.

  “Am I supposed to use this?”

  He had fired guns at the shooting range back in Mistwood, but he was no master. And with a strong revolver like this, the recoil alone could break a wrist if he wasn't careful. He would need to be at point-blank range to guarantee a hit.

  “Fuck. They want me to execute someone?”

  The cold weight of the gun in his hand shattered any lingering thought that this was a dream. The steel was real. The danger was real. Had he been transported to another world?

  “Open Map.”

  A primitive bird's-eye view map materialized in the air. A small, glowing dot pulsed at his location. The area around him was blank, shrouded in a fog of war. However, a red marker appeared at the far edge of the map, pulsating within a large circle.

  The target was waiting.

  The dot was surrounded by emptiness; however, after taking a few steps forward, another dot appeared at the other end of the map. This dot, resembling a location marker, was located within a large circle.

  Although confused, Atlas had no other choice but to follow the map. After walking a few hundred meters, he stopped on top of a small hill. The uncertainty that clouded Atlas's mind was briefly lost in the grandeur of the view before him. Massive stone walls rose with an immutable splendor. Although he wasn't sure what drew him here, he location symbol on the map pointed to a spot deep within the city ahead. Carefully placing his steps, he descended the hill and approached the city walls. The scent of spices carried by the wind wafted through the castle gate and reached his nose.

  Atlas hesitated. Would entering be courageous or foolish? He wasn't even sure if it was a dream.

  “What is this...?” he muttered.

  The curious voices inside and the music coming from afar suggested that this was a lively city. Atlas slowly placed the weapon in his right hand into his inventory. He didn't want to take it out unless he had to.

  “If I'm in a dream anyway, I'll wake up,” he muttered to himself.

  As he approached the city gate, he examined his surroundings more carefully. There were no guards on either side of the gate, only giant statues carved from stone. These figures, standing like sentinels, resembled humans but were taller and more sharply defined. Atlas slowly walked through the gate.

  Inside was complete bustling crowded. Narrow streets were filled with stalls draped in colorful fabrics and people of unusual appearance. Some looked completely human to Atlas's eyes, while others were taller, shorter, or had different skin tones.

  “Although the name of the destination is also quite strange. Apparently, my imagination is rich.”

  Atlas looked at the map. The marker pointed to a large building beyond the market. As he passed through the crowd, strange looks gathered on him. Although his face had changed, his clothes were the same tracksuit he wore when visiting his father. In short, he stood out like a sore thumb among the people here. This bothered him.

  “Hey stranger,” a vendor called out. “You look lost.”

  Atlas paused; the language the man spoke was foreign to him, yet for some reason, he understood every word.

  “I... was just passing through,” he said uncertainly.

  The vendor, with a wrinkled smile on his face, looked down at Atlas's blue tracksuit.

  “Your clothes are quite eye-catching. It's clear you're a stranger here. If I give you some coin and information, will you trade me those clothes?"

  “You want to buy my clothes?”

  The vendor was surprised.

  “Would that be a problem for you? I thought it would work out for both of us.”

  Atlas shook his head.

  “You misunderstand me, sir. I have no problem selling you my clothes, but I have no other clothes besides what I'm wearing. If you could arrange something from your stock to replace them, I would be grateful.”

  “No problem, go to the back,” he said, pointing to the curtain at the back. Behind the curtain, tied to two wooden stakes, was a small shed.

  Atlas went to the small shed behind the curtain the seller had pointed to. In one corner of the shed, filled with belongings, were folded clothes on shelves. The vendor was muttering as he rummaged through an old trunk.

  “I think we can find something for someone your size.” The vendor pulled out a brown leather vest and a gray shirt. “Everyone around here wears these. You won't stand out.”

  As Atlas took the clothes, he asked, “How long have you been here?” to start a conversation.

  “Over thirty years,” said the vendor, opening another chest. “I came when I was a young man. Here, try on these pants too.”

  Atlas put on the clothes. They were a bit loose, but they looked much more normal here than sweatpants.

  “I have a question for you,” said Atlas, tightening his belt. “Do you know someone named Baek Yisoo? From the Heaven and Moon Sect.”

  The vendor's eyebrows raised. “Baek Yisoo? Of course. Who doesn't know him?”

  “What's he like?” Atlas asked, feigning indifference.

  The vendor sat down on a chair and began examining the fabric of Atlas's tracksuit. “He's a pretty famous fighter. Maybe too famous. He's definitely full of himself.” He looked up. “Why do you ask? Do you have business with him?”

  “I've just... heard a lot about him,” said Atlas. “Is he really that good?”

  “Good? Absolutely.” The vendor laughed. “But arrogant enough to drive you crazy.”

  Atlas smiled. “So where can I find him? I mean, I'm just curious.”

  “He's usually at the sect's branch. But lately, people have been seeing him more often at the Violet Inn. He's fond of drink, especially after a win.”

  “The Violet Inn...” Atlas repeated, committing the information to memory. “Where is this inn?”

  The vendor carefully folded Atlas's garment and placed it in a corner. “When you leave here, turn right. After you pass the big square, you'll see a narrow street leading north. Follow that street, cross three bridges, and on the left, you'll see a building with purple lanterns. You can't miss it—there's a large violet flower above the door.”

  Atlas nodded. “Thank you, you've been very helpful.”

  “It's nothing,” said the vendor, handing Atlas a heavy pouch. “Here is your payment and the information, as agreed. Be careful, though. Baek Yisoo is dangerous. He doesn't take kindly to strangers.”

  Atlas thanked him again and left the hut. As he stepped out, he heard the vendor call after him.

  “Let me know if you find more fabric like that!”