The morning sun had just risen over the small neighborhood, bathing the cracked streets and weathered buildings in a pale golden glow. The city was slowly waking up: shopkeepers pulling up shutters, children running to school with bread in their mouths, and the faint sound of buses rattling by.
Among them, a single boy ran. His round body bounced awkwardly with every step, sweat dripping down his temples, staining the collar of his cheap school shirt. Daniel Park's lungs burned, his legs felt like lead, and his heart pounded as if it wanted to burst.
But Jinwoo refused to stop.
Each thudding step was a declaration: he would not let this body remain weak. His breath came in ragged gasps, his fat cheeks flushed red. Every joint screamed at him to give up. Yet his willpower, forged in another life, pushed him forward.
"This body is garbage," Jinwoo muttered under his breath, dragging himself around the block again. "But garbage can be reforged. I'll shape this into a weapon, no matter how much it hurts."
A pair of schoolboys passing by noticed him. They pointed and laughed.
"Look, it's Daniel the dumpling again!" one jeered.
"Can't even run one lap without dying," another snickered.
The sound of their laughter dug into Jinwoo's ears, but instead of anger, he felt a cruel satisfaction. Their mockery didn't weaken him—it sharpened him. In his first life, he had been mocked as an orphan, spat on by elites even after he became rich. He had built an empire to silence their voices, and he would do it again here.
After pushing himself until his vision blurred, Jinwoo collapsed onto the ground, gasping. His entire body trembled like jelly, arms twitching with exhaustion. But he wasn't finished. He forced himself into shaky push-ups, his arms wobbling violently. Then sit-ups, each one making his stomach ache as if it were being torn apart. Finally, he stretched his unyielding limbs until sweat dripped onto the ground like rain.
Every movement was agony. But every drop of sweat was proof of progress.
When he finally allowed himself a moment's rest, Jinwoo's sharp eyes caught sight of several boys nearby, throwing clumsy punches at each other. Their arms flailed awkwardly, their feet shuffled without balance. But as Jinwoo watched, something strange stirred inside him.
His body moved on its own. He copied the motion of one of their punches in the air, but unlike theirs, his was sharper, cleaner. It cut through the air with an efficiency that startled even him.
Jinwoo froze. Then he did it again—watching, copying, refining. His punches became smoother with each attempt, the angles more precise, the force more controlled. The boys didn't notice, but Jinwoo did.
A smirk crept across his face. "Even without activating the UI Eye… my body learns. It remembers. It perfects. So this is the instinct of Unlimited Imitation."
The thought of Gun Yamazaki returned to him. That monster had risen to the highest level in Lookism's world, standing shoulder to shoulder with James Lee, Goo Kim, and Kim Ki-tae. Stronger even than some of the First Generation Kings. And all of it… was thanks to the same power Jinwoo now possessed.
"If Gun could become a legend with these eyes," Jinwoo whispered to himself, clenching his fist, "then I'll surpass him. I'll polish this power to a level even he never reached."
---
That evening, Jinwoo wandered into town. The neon lights of an Internet café caught his eye, glowing like a beacon in the dim streets. The muffled sounds of boys shouting over video games drifted through the glass windows.
He slipped inside, handing over a few coins for an hour. The air was thick with the smell of instant ramen and sweat. Rows of computers stretched out, screens glowing with StarCraft II, MapleStory, and forums buzzing with chatter.
To the average teenager, this place was an escape. To Jinwoo, it was a battlefield.
Sitting at a computer, he began typing. His stubby fingers tapped clumsily at first, but his eyes blazed with purpose. He searched: "How to post manhwa online." "Web novel publishing Korea." "Popular manhwa sites 2010."
Page after page revealed itself to him. Amateur forums where people uploaded sketches. Naver blogs with crude but heartfelt stories. Daum Webtoon, just starting to gain traction. The entire landscape of future giants lay before him, small and unrefined.
Jinwoo leaned back in the chair, his lips curling into a smile. "So this is where it all begins. These little creators don't realize the gold mine they're sitting on. If I bring Solo Leveling here… I'll dominate this entire industry before anyone can react."
The idea filled him with anticipation. His first empire in this new world would be built not with factories or stocks, but with a story that had already proven its worth in another life.
---
By the time he returned home, the smell of kimchi stew greeted him at the door. Their tiny apartment was dim, but the warmth inside was stronger than anything Jinwoo had ever known in his past life. Daniel's mother was waiting, her hands red and cracked from work, her body clearly exhausted, yet her smile never faded.
"Daniel, wash up first," she said warmly. "You must be tired. I can tell you've been working hard today."
For a moment, Jinwoo was struck silent. In his first life, no one had ever told him such words. No one had cared if he worked himself to the bone. Yet here, a woman who struggled every day just to survive smiled at him as though he was her entire world.
"…Yes, Mom," Jinwoo finally replied, his voice softer than usual. "I worked hard."
She fussed over him as he ate, piling extra food into his bowl, barely keeping any for herself. Jinwoo watched her carefully. Her hands were scarred and trembling, her shoulders hunched from endless labor. Yet she smiled as if nothing was wrong.
A heaviness settled in his chest. He remembered his past life as an orphan, clawing his way up alone, dying with no family, no love. Now, he had a mother who loved him unconditionally. He wouldn't let this be wasted.
That night, lying in bed, Jinwoo stared at the cracked ceiling above him. His fists clenched tightly, his mind racing.
First, I'll forge this body until no one can mock me again.
Second, I'll plant my story into this world's soil and watch it grow into a golden tree.
Third, I'll build an empire so vast that nobody dares look down on my mother again.
The faint moonlight glinted in his eyes, the UI Eye glowing faintly like an ember ready to ignite.
"This is only the beginning," Jinwoo whispered. "One day, I'll stand higher than Gun, higher than James Lee, higher than the Kings themselves. For her… I'll become the Emperor of this world."
---