Normally, the brain has a sort of protective mechanism that prevents a person from experiencing sensory or emotional overload. Typically, it would trigger a blackout or some form of extreme dissociation. That didn't apply to Mael, who flailed violently on the floor.
His entire body convulsed in rapid, uncontrollable contractions. His jaw locked while every muscle spasmed in rhythm, as if lightning were trapped inside him.
With his vision stuttering between clarity and a blinding white, a deafening tinnitus looped in his ears. Yet even through the ringing, he could hear countless audible echoes from #4's life.
He heard himself bartering, forcing laughter, screaming falsely, begging—lashing out at anything he could see before dissipating and scattering like the wind.
He fought to hold himself still in attempts to alleviate his suffering. But it did little; his torment would ebb, and color would have returned to him soon regardless.
When the last convulsions in his throat and jaw loosened, Mael let out a piercing scream.
[Name: Mael
Talents: Simulator(Inviolable)
Aeternus(Severely Flawed), Tenebris Veil(Severely Flawed), Eclipse Reflex
Physique: 0.75(+0.65)
Mind: 0.65(+0.15)
Spirit: 0.02(-0.01)
Essence: LOCKED
Simulation Iterations: 1
Do you want to perform a simulation?
Y/N]
Mael looked at the [Physique] stat, then at himself. The poor eyesight of his body had significantly improved, as had his hearing and sense of smell, but the body itself felt no different.
He assumed that if he hadn't experienced those horrid sensations earlier, he would've felt the kind of "power-up" sequence many protagonists do. Disappointed, though not dwelling on it, he sat up with an empty gaze
Tears welled then slid down his cheeks. His chest hitched now and then, but he didn't let a sound escape him. When he walked to his first bucket of water, the tears came faster at the glimpse of his reflection.
He pushed his long hair aside, trying to make out his face, but grime masked everything. Beyond the rough shapes of eyes, nose, and mouth, there was nothing he could recognize.
There was only the smudged outline of a child staring back at him.
Mael stripped off the filthy rag he had been wearing, trying to wash them in a bucket of clean water. The stains that pressed deep into the fabric wouldn't fade away. As such, his grip accidentally tightened until the cloth tore, his eyes stung even more.
Without a sound. He wrung the rags tight, then worked the fabric on his skin, dipping it back into the bucket as the water darkened. Once the first bucket was fouled, he turned to the second filled with clean water to continue.
After an uncomfortable cleaning followed by a new set of clothes, he sat back down to wait.
That wasn't something a normal person could bear. If the Intelligence module hadn't chosen [Aeternus] as a talent, he was certain he'd have been left with some form of brain damage.
The initial shock from {Echo Interference} broke some sort of dam that let fear well up like a deluge.
When he'd chosen that drawback, he told himself it was only mental noise, an affliction he could reason through. How bad could thoughts and feelings from himself, of all people, really be?
That logic didn't hold now; he'd looked too far ahead.
But he believes he has the leniency to take things slow. In less than thirty minutes he gained the strength to beat a grown man with ease. If he was destined to die within the year, maybe that would press him—but no.
He could crawl at a snail's pace until he was invincible.
Right now, he can start by testing the 9th drawback.
Before arriving here, he had asked the intelligence module to optimize things. He didn't know how many points it had saved, nor why it hadn't appeared yet, but the system had become far more intuitive.
He noted the simple customization options first: he shifted the screen through nearly every color he could think of and added decorations like stickers or animated pixels. Even the names of some displays were modified.
Beyond the basics he could use without performing a simulation, there were advanced features.
At any time, he could turn text simulations into 1st or 3rd person video, pause, rewind, or fast-forward, and even change the "animation" styles of the video. Within certain limits, he could practically do anything, even fully immersive simulations.
However, every action here counted as interacting with his simulated self. Still, he believed he had no choice.
Not even an hour into his transmigration, he had already endured pain unlike anything from his old world.
Waiting would 'maybe' cost him more, but he couldn't let the man who killed #1 live unchallenged.
[SIMULATION STATUS: ACTIVE]
[Drawing…..
Resources converted into draw compatibility.
🏆F-Level Talent Acquired. 🏆
Talent Name: Advanced Hyperthymesia]
[Effect: Memories of mundane matters are stored in precise detail, allowing an almost instantaneous perfect recall of any experience.]
『You stare at a white screen showing all your stats. Your physique dropped by 0.01, but you ignore it and wait for commands.』
Another screen appeared over the text simulator. The text now showed as a small log bar, while the large screen transformed into a focused window.
It displayed a boy with a dirty face but clean clothes staring at his own pale screen.
When he mentally issued the command, "Continue." The simulated Mael's menu opened, displaying just that single line of text.
Mael #5 nodded, then stepped outside, pausing for a moment as he glanced across the glade. He moved toward a tree with a deep indent, slipping beneath its canopy while picking his way forward.
The trees thinned, eventually giving way to a rough road where a passerby walked.
The screen switched to first-person as Mael #5 approached. The man's face bore a rough knife scar stretching from left ear to right, almost like an incision guide.
Noticing that the man didn't immediately attack, Mael #5 made awkward small talk, occasionally phrasing questions like thinly veiled accusations. Despite this, the interaction remained amicable, though #5 steadily slowed his pace.
["Kill him."]
A menu appeared in the corner of #5's vision, displaying the exact line. A few seconds later, the passerby was attacked; the video screen then shut, giving full focus to the text display.
『You say hello to him. He responds, you both have a somewhat awkward conversation. You begin contemplating whether you should kill him.
Unlike the Axe-man who beheaded you, this man shows no malice toward your current appearance, leaving you to wonder whether this is worth all the trouble.
[Kill him.]
Seeing the menu pop up and display the line, you sigh. Truthfully, you had originally hoped that the outside Mael would simply start an immersive simulation and handle it himself, rather than rely on the residues that would appear.』
『Regardless of what you believe, what you do best is listen to yourself. You hardened your mind, wondering what to use as a weapon.
Feeling pressed for time and unable to search for one, you chose to use your hands, itching to vent your emotions physically.』
『No one's around. You bolt toward the target, leaping behind him. Your fist connects with the back of his head, and he drops with a heavy thud.』
『Looking at the body on the floor makes you realize you need more confidence in yourself. You sigh, hoping you won't have to do something like this again.
You carry him back to your shed, loot his body, then choke him to death.』
『Finding the sinkhole #4 mentioned in a time that felt closer to thirty minutes than an hour you giggle a bit knowing that #4 must've went in circles. After you dumped the body inside, you suddenly feel a little bit sad.』
『Other than the cannibalism and the bloody gore, events nearly unfold exactly the same as #4's life.』
『Day 15: A group of hunters pass by your village, searching for the passerby you killed. You weren't at the village at the time, so you miss your chance to flee the village.』
『Day 16: They pass by your shed and discover the sinkhole where the bodies were buried.』
『Day 17: On your way back to the shed, you are ambushed and interrogated. You manage to convince them that someone else killed the two victims, but to better remember your appearance, they forcefully wash your face. 』
『While you could resist easily, a sense of guilt holds you back. You let them proceed, knowing the act will trigger an attack. It's an opportunity you plan to use to justify what you're about to do to them.』
『When your face is cleaned, you see burning hatred and disgust etched on the hunters' faces. One of them grabs you, while another readies his weapon to attack.』
『』
『You enter a zone state and break free from the hunter's grip, counter-killing all of them with relative ease.
It happens so quickly that you wonder why [Eclipse Reflex] even activated. You conclude it must have triggered because you perceived yourself to be in extreme danger.』
『Not wanting to risk another exposure, you immediately dirty your face and put on a mask before checking your stats.』
『Your [Physique] stat reads 0.8. A slight shock spreads through you, you never really bothered working out in those days, focusing instead on meditation and rest.
You then check your Spirit stat, looking for any increase, and find only a tiny decimal change(0.00001). You conclude it isn't responsible for the jump in Physique, instead attributing it to the [Weak Body] talent.
Almost bursting with joy at this loophole, you wonder what the point of talent selection is if stats can be chosen directly. You reason it must have something to do with the locked [Essence] display.』
『 You shrug at the realization, leaving all investigation to your real body.
About two hours later, the sinkhole you found is now stuffed with corpses; adding even one more would cause them to spill out.
You're planning to leave soon so you don't worry about it.』
『However, in that short span of time, misfortune seemed to befall the villagers. The things you repaired for them suddenly broke, the places you cleaned carried a sickly malaise, and even the food you handed out left them vomiting.』
『After a series of deductions, the villagers concluded that you were the cause. They prepared an entrapment: stay in your shed and you would be burned alive; escape it, and men lay in wait to assault you.
If you unknowingly returned to the village, the same fate would befall you, only in public. The best way to survive this would be to leave immediately and avoid their camps.』
『Unaware, you set out toward the city, only to be intercepted. Dozens of weapons were pointed your way, along with a dozen pairs of eyes burning with malice.』
『You stare at them in confusion and fear, realizing your mask is gone, along with all the dirt, mud, and grime you had reapplied to your face.
A sense of defeat settles over you, and you begin reviewing your memories, starting from every detail after the hunters intercepted you. 』
『 You recall the bugs, birds, and animals acting strangely the moment you stepped outside, their gazes fixed on you even as they moved toward their original destination.
You remember how plants subtly drooped whenever you looked at them, which you had dismissed as the wind.
The last memory is your mask unnaturally cracking into pieces, yet you only exclaimed how unfortunate it was.』
『A deluge of terror flows through you at the blatant yet imperceptible malice this world holds. Beneath that fear, anger surfaces.』
『"All this, because of that?" you ask, the villagers ignore your words. Your body is swarmed and torn apart. Your mind wanders and fixates itself.
You made a mistake in trying to seem weak when the hunters came,
You made a mistake in having let them wash your face,
You made a mistake by not being more resolute.』
『Your soul enters the underworld.』
[In order to prevent being detected, this simulation has ended.
Evaluation: [F+] Coward
Most cognitive hazards are laughably simple. A little awareness, a little repetition,and they crumble. The same applies to choices — do you remember that one line? "Hesitation is defeat."]
[Choose 1 reward]
[17 Days of Physical Attributes
17 Days of Memories.
17 Days of Mind attributes
17 Days of Spirit attributes
All Owned Items
Talents: Advance Hyperthymesia]
Closing his eyes and clamping his hands over his ears, Mael braced himself, yet felt only faint stings across his body and perhaps a barely audible whisper.
For some reason, the tears he thought had run dry came flooding back.
Thinking the drawbacks somewhat cancel each other out, he tried a mental evaluation, running through his usual "What would I do?" questions, but it was pointless.
Mael wouldn't lie to himself, but residues could twist things. Trying to reason through it all was like asking whether you'd punch someone while furious, every answer coalesces into the same response of, "It depends."
Clenching his jaw, he chose the sixth option, and the screen refreshed itself.
[Name: Mael
Talents: Simulator(Inviolable)
Aeternus(Severely Flawed), Tenebris Veil(Severely Flawed), Eclipse Reflex, Advance Hyperthymesia
Physique: 0.75
Mind: 0.65
Spirit: 0.03(+0.01)
Essence: LOCKED
Simulation Iterations: 0]
He stared at the panel for a long moment, waiting for some shift inside himself—some spark, or weight, or clarity. Nothing came.
Mael nearly screamed out a curse but held it in.
Out of all five simulations, he had yet to genuinely feel any changes in himself. The increased memory only… increased his memory. It didn't offer some maddening revelation or heightened perception.
It removed the effort of retrieval, clarity, and visualization entirely. It was the same as recalling a moment from a half-second ago; now, that ability stretched all the way back to his birth.
It was a massive difference when measured against ordinary memory but by itself, it was like saying,
"I can remember what my room looked like two seconds ago!"
Utterly useless
But at least the Spirit increase somewhat confirmed his hypothesis: Talents couldn't be so vain that they'd get overwritten by a simple stat improvement. Otherwise, what would be the point of having them as an option?
Like #5 said, it most likely had something to do with the [Essence] display rather than the category it applies under.
Deciding not to dwell on it, Mael watched as the screen slowly dissolved and reformed into a new display:
[Simulation Refresh Time: {Day / Month / Year / Custom}
— Day Refresh: Items only [Talents: capped at current rank] (Low Utility)
— Month Refresh: Items + Talents [Talents: capped at current rank] (Moderate Utility)
— Year Refresh: Items + Talents + Stats [Talents: one rank above current] (Low Utility)
Note: Longer refresh cycles yield broader simulations.
Custom refresh times (shorter than Day or longer than Year) are possible.]
The 'day' option was chosen. Mael waved his hand, and the screen closed with an audible blink.
He turned to the food in the basket: a small loaf of bread, a wedge of pale cheese, a couple of apples, a carrot, and a smoked sausage. He ate it all, then settled into a meditative pose.
His last simulation had shown that #5 spent most of his time meditating and got something out of it. Mael guessed that trying anything unusual like connecting to the world or circulating energy through his body was wrong. He should instead focus on letting his soul sense his body.
If his direction had been off, the simulations would have indicated it earlier.
Meditating in this new world began to brush away most of his negative feelings, yet the sight remained strange. A child, solemn and still, eyes shut tight, tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't know, but if anyone were to see him, would they feel pity or amusement?
A face dirty enough that you can only see the eyes…
They would naturally feel disgust, and that discernment honed his focus like a blade. Tracking each inhalation and exhalation, noticing the subtle pulse in his temples and the grounding weight of his legs.
There is a power his muscularity wasn't showing, something that could crush or break the shed he was in within seconds, if he wanted to.
But a place to live was a nice thing, so his thoughts were led away from that. Instead, they turned toward the connection between his soul and body.
He had noticed it some time ago that the soul wasn't strictly necessary for this body to function, yet damage to it affected him more than he expected for some reason.
Musing over this revelation for a while but reaching no epiphany, he chose to focus solely on his body. He began with small, almost imperceptible twitches, one at a time, moving across his body.
The body Mael inhabited was strangely different. As he practiced his somatic meditation, a subtle but consistent lag trailed each movement, like a puppet on strings. That and the precision of his twitches was far too exact for a normal body, maybe it's a trait of the original owner, or a side effect of his takeover. Mael couldn't tell.
The memories of this body showed that its entire life was as muddleheaded as can be. All it did was eat and sleep for twelve years.
Regardless, if the body is trash, the best thing you can do is train it.
Five hours later, Mael stands, performing a series of calisthenics.
Three hours later, he lies on the floor, waiting. Changing his mind, he drags the bucket of dirty water closer. He steps outside, returns inside, then slips out again to hide behind a tree before returning to the shed.
After opening and closing the simulator menu several times, he settles back on the floor.
His forehead down, hands near his chest, toes curled lightly. In less than an hour, a man with an axe enters.
The moonlight from the doorway casted a faint glow on the shed as he stared at Mael's sleeping posture in bewilderment.
Seconds ticked away as clarity, power, and adrenaline began surging through Mael. Subtly, his posture changed into a more effective position. Yet for some reason, the man didn't notice this.
When the word "Wretched" resounded from the man's lips, Mael's fingers dug into the floor and pushed, driving his upper body up and forward. The legs still trailing behind Mael, kicked back against the ground, launching him fully into the air.
That simple combined snap of arms and legs almost made his movements like a blur, preventing the man from reacting as Mael's hand twisted mid-air into a precise chop that connected with his neck.
A visceral bone-snapping thud rang out, accompanied by several, almost imperceptible wet popping sounds.
The man's neck and body fell backwards, and Mael… fell outside.
Opening his eyes wide, he ran back into the shed. The man's neck was almost entirely flattened, yet Mael selectively chose not to gaze at the worst part of it and instead followed the jagged lacerations that continued leaking blood.
It looked as if a small bomb had gone off in that area, blood was already pooling and soaking the shed floor within barely a second.
Doing his best to minimize the mess, Mael grabbed the dirty bucket near the corner and dunked the man's head inside.
That wasn't the greatest idea.
Within a minute the bucket overflowed with dirty water and blood. Panicking once again, he dragged the corpse's head out by the back of its shirt.
Due to his small frame, and the force from his earlier overexertion, his body misfired, and the already-full bucket toppled onto him.
Instinctively, he threw up his arms to defend himself, accidentally letting go of the corpse and dropping to the floor in a reflexive panic. The bloody, murky water spilled over him while running towards the door.
A dirty body, a dirty house, and a dirty face. Having no one to blame Mael processed it all with silence and widened eyes.
Utterly exhausted, he didn't bother to clean himself; he simply walked to the only unsullied part of the shed and slept.