It's better to see than just talk.
After a simple explanation, Howard handed Henry the chessboard artifact and, for the first time, spoke in a commanding tone.
"Kiddo, bleed some blood onto this artifact," he said, producing a needle he had prepared beforehand.
Henry swallowed hard, his heart pounding.
Maybe because he had been waiting for a miracle like this for so long, he didn't hesitate. He bit his lip, pricked his finger with the needle, and let a drop of blood fall onto the chessboard.
A faint white glow rose. At first, it was soft, but it quickly grew brighter until it engulfed Henry's entire body.
"Hiss—Mr. Howard, what's this—" Henry squinted against the blinding light, shielding his eyes. But in the next instant, when the glow faded, he found himself standing in a vast, endless void.
Before him was a single tabletop.
"Mr. Howard?" Henry called out several times, his chest tight as his mind scrambled to make sense of it.
Thankfully, Howard's voice soon echoed through the emptiness, steady and calm.
"Kiddo, check the tabletop."
Something in the old man's commanding tone made Henry obey instinctively. He flailed his arms, "swimming" closer until he reached the table.
After a closer look, he asked nervously, "Mr. Howard, what do I do next?"
"Press your palm on the tabletop to trigger it," Howard instructed.
Henry nodded and placed his hand on the surface. Immediately, a cold, mechanical chime echoed in his ears:
[Ding!]
[Sensing a new heir of the Infinity Universe Tabletop. Beginning owner registration.]
[Do not remove your hand during the process…]
[1%...]
[5%...]
As the progress bar slowly climbed, Henry's eyes lit up. His cheeks even flushed with excitement.
"It's the legendary System Voice!" he exclaimed, legs kicking in the air like an overjoyed kid.
After five minutes, the bar finally reached the end.
[100%]
[Ding!]
[Registration complete. Owner: Henry Smith. Status: 91st inheritor of the Infinity Universe Tabletop.]
[Granting initial piece: Pawn.]
[Please place the chess piece on the tabletop to proceed.]
Henry barely paused to think. Too excited to question, he immediately set the Pawn on the board.
[Ding!]
[The Infinity Universe Tabletop has located a suitable clone for the Owner. Generating a new world…]
The surface shimmered as scenery came into focus: first a sprawling New York City skyline—taller, richer, more modern than the real one—then the view zoomed down into a single block, then a building, then into an apartment.
On the board stood a tiny version of himself—handsome, sharp-eyed, with the same mole under his left eye. The only difference was the Clone's more muscular build: broad shoulders, defined six-pack abs—the body that looked sturdy enough to take a hit without faltering.
"Is that… me?" Henry murmured, brushing back his black hair in wonder.
On the board, the miniature clone copied the exact same gesture.
"!?"
Henry froze, stunned. But before he could ask anything, the voice rang out again:
[Ding!]
[Implanting basic operational functions of the Clone into the Owner…]
A sharp ache pricked at Henry's skull as knowledge flooded in.
This was a world inside the tabletop.
A complete parallel world, where the Clone acted as his avatar—controlled like a character in a role-playing game.
The perspective floated from above, shifting and following wherever the Clone went, like a living map.
And as for this world's background—
It was a superhero world, one not unlike Marvel or DC. People with superpowers and mutant abilities walked among ordinary citizens. And naturally, where there were heroes, there were villains.
Henry's Clone was one of the heroes—a certified government-registered Rank D Superhero. His status floated before Henry's eyes:
...
[Status Window]
Name: Henry Ashford
Hero Title: Ry-Two
Race: Mutant / Human
Certified Rank: D-Class Superhero
Existence Tier: 1 (0/100)
Abilities (3/3):
Superhuman Strength — Rank C (0/100)
Unbreakable Skin — Rank D (0/50)
Accelerated Healing — Rank E (0/10)
Existence Points: 10
...
"The status window's marvelous... game-like. What's missing is a mission or two to get used to it," Henry muttered.
As though the System had heard him, a notification chimed:
[Ding!]
[First Mission: Use Points.]
[Difficulty: Easy]
[Condition: Spend Existence Points to strengthen Accelerated Healing to Rank D.]
[Reward: 100 Existence Points.]
Henry's eyes lit up. "There it is!"
He poured all ten points into Accelerated Healing, instantly raising it to Rank D.
If Rank E doubled healing speed compared to an ordinary person, Rank D multiplied it by four.
"This clone's abilities are like Captain Eagleland's—the muscle-and-technique type," Henry mused.
The System interrupted again:
[Ding!]
[First Mission: Completed.]
[Reward: 100 Existence Points.]
[Ding!]
[Second Mission: Upgrade Existence Tier.]
[Difficulty: Easy]
[Condition: Use Existence Points to upgrade Tier to 2.]
[Reward: x1 Random Ability Card (Rank E).]
Henry grinned. Without hesitation, he allocated the new points, raising his Clone's Existence Tier.
...
[Status Window]
Name: Henry AshfordHero Title: Ry-TwoRace: Mutant / Human
Certified Rank: D-Class SuperheroExistence Tier: 2 (0/500)
Abilities (3/4):
Superhuman Strength — Rank C (0/100)
Unbreakable Skin — Rank D (0/50)
Accelerated Healing — Rank D (0/50)
Empty Slot
Existence Points: 0
...
"How amusing... Tier upgrades are like level-ups. They open more ability slots," Henry remarked, watching his Clone's image shift.
Its skin looked smoother, its face sharper, even slightly more handsome. The frame became sturdier, taller by a few centimeters.
Information flowed into Henry's mind—this "first glow" gave visible changes, but later upgrades would be subtler.
Then the next alert appeared:
[Ding!]
[Second Mission: Completed.]
[Reward: x1 Random Ability Card (Rank E).]
[Ding!]
[Third Mission: Superhero Duty.]
[Difficulty: Normal]
[Condition: Eliminate criminals in the city 10 times.]
[Progress: 0/10]
[Reward: Luxury Apartment + $100,000 Cash.]
Henry blinked, stunned by the reward. "Wait... why real-world prizes instead of points or abilities?"
[Answer: Previous rewards served as tutorials. Future missions will focus on improving the Owner's real-world life.]
Henry's jaw dropped, then he nodded. "So that's how it is."
For a moment, his mind drifted—not to power, fame, or riches, but to his two daughters.
He pictured the life he could finally give them: a real home, security, a future without struggle.
The thought made him grin like an idiot.
And then… his ex.
If he could stand tall now, if he finally had the backbone to be the pillar he had long struggled to become—maybe, just maybe—he could even win back their mother.
Lost in the thought, Henry was pulled back by the System's announcement:
[Reminder: The Owner can enter the Tabletop space anytime, even in sleep. Current time ratio is 1:1 with the real world.]
"Current?" Henry pressed. "So it can change?"
[Yes. Completing a Legendary-tier Mission will unlock another Chess Piece. The more pieces you control, the stronger the Chessboard becomes.]
Henry asked several more questions, but eventually stopped once he grasped the basics.
It was then he noticed something strange—Howard hadn't spoken in a while.
"Mr. Howard? Hello?"
No reply.
Henry glanced at his watch. Forty minutes had passed inside the Chessboard.
He reluctantly exited the space, eager to thank the old man. But when his eyes opened—
The seat was empty.
"He's... gone?" Henry froze. On the chair lay a single folded note:
Wish you a good life. Farewell.
The words were simple, but they cut deep. Henry's chest tightened with grief. Somehow, he knew Howard would never appear in his life again.
He sighed, shaking his head with a bittersweet smile. "What a heartless old man..."
After a few minutes of silence to calm himself, Henry decided to stop running his cab for the day and head home.
Henry's car pulled away.
Unseen, behind a nearby building, Howard staggered out. His body crumbled, scattering into glowing particles with every step.
His eyes glimmered with quiet unwillingness, fingers stretching instinctively toward Henry's departing car, chasing the artifact he had entrusted to the young man.
As the car faded into the distance, Howard whispered his final words before vanishing entirely:
"Kiddo… don't get checkmated."