He could barely keep himself afloat, his clothes heavy and drenched.

  ‘Couldn’t they just teleport me to the trial? I don’t even know where I’m supposed to go.’

  Chris forced himself to stay calm; wild thrashing would only burn through his stamina reserves.

  ‘System? Are you there? Soa? Anyone?’

  No one answered.

  ‘Nice. No help is coming.’

  The weather turned worse. A storm rolled in, wind howling like a furious beast. Waves grew into blood-red walls, slamming him underwater. He choked and swallowed the metallic liquid, trying again to break the surface, only for another wave to smack him down.

  ‘This isn’t working. I need land. Not whatever this nightmare is.’

  He spat the blood he had involuntarily drunk, coughing violently. His lungs burned, and fatigue dragged at every limb. As if the sea wanted him dead, a vortex spun into existence a few meters away, pulling the blood ocean toward its center.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me! Can’t you let me breathe for five minutes!?” He yelled, punching the water in pure frustration.

  He tried to swim away, but his body was beyond exhausted. And who was he kidding? Even fully rested, he probably wouldn’t win a fight against a natural phenomenon.

  He inhaled one final desperate breath and surrendered to the current.

  The whirlpool yanked him downward with crushing force. His head throbbed, stars popping in his vision as consciousness slipped.

  ‘So this is what astronauts feel when they train… except they live through it.’

  He clung to awareness with everything he had. Somehow, he stayed awake, even as the abyss swallowed him and then…

  It stopped.

  He was lying on something soft. No pressure. No blood. Just plain grass.

  The shift was so jarring that his brain rejected it outright. One moment, death was coming by a blood vortex. The next relaxing nature. He stared at the sky for several seconds, panting like he’d run a race.

  Then he filled his lungs with delicious, oxygen-rich, not blood-stench air. His chest puffed so far out that he resembled a turkey. Then he exhaled everything in one gush.

  “This… this is the best air I’ve ever breathed.”

  “You find joy in the strangest things.” A calm voice commented.

  Chris jolted. Someone was there. He tried to get up, but his arms trembled too hard to lift himself.

  “It really is.” He replied, still sprawled out. “I just survived a sea made of blood, got sucked into a death vortex, and then I was transported here. You wouldn’t believe it.”

  “I see. So you didn’t like our welcome.”

  The tone was teasing. Like this was all perfectly normal.

  Chris mustered enough strength to sit up, slowly, and turned toward the speaker.

  An old man sat at a small table, casually sipping tea. A spare stool waited across from him.

  Chris dragged himself closer, suspicious but too tired to argue with the man.

  “You’re safe here. This is what you would call a checkpoint.” His eyes gleamed. “Your memories are fascinating. Full of strange inventions and structures. This… ‘fried cooker’ of yours sounds revolutionary.”

  “What kind of welcome makes you nearly kill me?!” Chris snapped.

  “That was its purpose. We must weed out the weak before the actual trials begin.”

  “Oh, fantastic. Love that hospitality.”

  Chris sat down carefully, still breathing hard.

  “And… who exactly are you?”

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  The old man looked simple enough, except that no normal person would sit here calmly. His long beard reached his chest, and time had carved deep lines into his skin, yet he seemed anything but frail.

  “I won’t harm you, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I am merely one of the wisps, left to guide those who seek the power brought by the core. You may call me Mister K.”

  “That’s… it? Just K?”

  “Yes. Simple and easy to remember. We’ll be seeing each other for quite some time.”

  “How are you so sure about that?”

  “Because I’m the one who will give you your next challenge.” He raised his cup. “But first, let an old man finish his tea.”

  Chris stared at him, impatience rising, but he needed rest anyway.

  Mister K set down his empty teacup with a soft clink.

  “So, what are we doing next? Do I make tea? Because honestly, that sounds way better than what just happened.”

  The old man chuckled, a surprisingly cheerful sound, and snapped his fingers.

  “In a perfect world, yes. But unfortunately for you. Your next trial is to defeat me in a duel.”

  “But neither of us has a weapon?”

  “Already taken care of.” Mister K snapped his fingers.

  The scenery warped around them.

  They now stood in a place very familiar to Chris: the training ground from his office. The exact spot where he had his first training session with Arwenwel, and where Alek knocked the light out of him multiple times.

  Chris’s eyes widened.

  “This is my training ground back at the office! How? Why?”

  “I thought you’d be more comfortable here, your memories of this place were… colorful. Especially involving you know who.”

  Chris’s face went red.

  “Hey! Those memories are private! Stay out of my mind! You should apologize!”

  “I’ll apologize.” Mister K said, calm as ever.

  From thin air, he produced two swords.

  “But only if you can defeat me.”

  He tossed one blade to Chris, who caught it, barely. It was heavy enough that his wrist buckled, and he almost dropped it right onto the ground.

  “Right, okay. Quick question.” Chris said, pointing at his ill-matched weapon. “Can you, I don’t know, use your magic fingers to make this thing not feel like I’m holding a hunk of metal?”

  Mister K smiled with benevolent cruelty.

  “I could. But life is not fair. Sometimes you must work with what you’re given.”

  “So you’re being stingy.”

  “If I fix all your problems, how will you grow?”

  Chris groaned and tested a few swings. The sword wobbled in his grip like an uncooperative fish.

  ‘I can’t use my usual moves with this ridiculous blade.’

  His internal panic was cut short quite literally when Mister K lunged with unforeseen speed.

  Chris raised his sword too slowly. Metal clashed. The impact hurled him backward like a rag doll. He slammed onto his back, gasping.

  Mister K had already stepped back to his original spot, waiting.

  “Why didn’t you finish me off?” Chris wheezed.

  “That is not the purpose; your task is to defeat me, and mine is to fight you, not kill. Killing you would be… too easy.” He smirked.

  “Oh. Well, that’s very considerate of you.”

  “How long do I have to beat you?” He added, trying to sound casual while his ribs screamed from pain.

  “You have all the time in this world; however, the outside world time moves normally. You should hurry.”

  Chris froze.

  “Wait. How much time has passed outside already?”

  The man sighed dramatically, letting his sword’s tip tap the ground as he leaned against it.

  “Fine. You are such a killjoy. It’s almost midnight outside…”

  Chris felt relief wash through him.

  “…the following day.”

  His jaw dropped.

  “But it feels like I’ve only been here for a few hours!”

  “That’s the beauty of this place, we cannot allow you to waltz into the world with this incredible power without sacrifice. Those who seek what they should never possess must pay a price.”

  “That’s horrible! So even if I win, I might wake up as an old man!”

  “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem. Enough talk. Again.” Mister K replied, raising his blade.

  Chris, fueled by panic and indignation, launched the first strike. He channeled every ounce of rage he felt toward this infuriating tea-loving old man.

  Mister K blocked effortlessly and jabbed Chris in the ribs with his free hand.

  Chris hit the dirt, breath knocked out, again.

  “That won’t do. Do better. Because right now? This place looks like your future grave.” Mister K scolded him, voice dripping with disappointment.

  Chris’s anger flared, then fizzled.

  He knew the man was right. At his current level, he didn’t stand a chance.

  ‘Think, Chris. Think!’

  And then a crazy idea sprouted in his mind.

  He raised a finger dramatically.

  “Can I take some time to train?”

  Mister K’s eyes widened with excitement.

  “Marvelous!” He clapped like Chris had found the answer to a hard question. “You are the first to ask that! Most of the others wasted their time fighting until they withered away.”

  He snapped his fingers again.

  They returned to the peaceful green plain. The old man was already sitting and drinking tea as if nothing had happened.

  “Take as much time as you like. When you wish to challenge me again, simply call my name.”

  Chris walked a good distance before beginning his training. He needed space and a new and improved strategy.

  Behind him, Mister K whispered into his cup.

  “I’ll see if you’re worthy to wield that power.”

  –Outside the dream realm–

  It was midnight. The moon cast her pale, graceful light across the quiet landscape.

  “Soa, you should sleep. He is safe here. No one can harm him.”

  The snake was coiled protectively near Chris’s unconscious body

  She wanted to inform Jang Mu-Yeon that she’d stay a while longer, but she knew he wouldn’t understand her.

  So she simply stayed by Chris’s side.

  “Don’t linger too long. You still need rest.”

  Hours stretched on. Chris remained unconscious, training in another realm while his body rested in the real world.

  –An unnamed mountain top–

  “I barely managed to climb this mountain with this fragile body.” A grotesque voice rasped.

  The creature noticed something missing: one of its arms had tangled in branches. It barely registered the loss. Hunger, insatiable and overwhelming, gnawed at its mind.

  “It will all be worth it once I obtain that body.”

  Drool ran down what once resembled a human mouth, leaving a trail of blackened slime.

  Its senses picked up the scent of multiple beings down below. Excitement pulsed through its reanimated body.

  “I’ll have a feast before I go to work.” It hissed with excitement.

  Its pace quickened.

  The unlucky prey wandering below didn’t know death was coming.

  Not yet.