What had actually happened to him? Why was he specifically in Korea, of all places? Why had his very consciousness been surgically separated from his physical form, partitioned into this player-avatar dynamic? And most pressingly, who—or what—had done this to him? The [REDACTED] user mentioned in the system notice loomed in his thoughts.... Was it a god? A bored programmer in a higher dimension? A cosmic mistake?
He looked back at his body—no, he had to stop thinking of it that way. He looked at Han Joon-seong. That was the name the System had given this vessel, and it was a name that presumably came with a history, a life, a set of experiences Ervin knew nothing about. He pondered this deeply. This wasn't a blank slate; it was a pre-existing person whose body he now seemingly occupied, whose muscles held memory, whose brain held language. The implications were staggering.
He also focused on the [Money(Perfect|Middle-class)] Characteristic. The phrasing was peculiar. It didn't say he had money; it said Money was a characteristic, and it was rated Perfect, yet his status was only Middle-class. What did that mean? Did it mean he gained money somehow, automatically? Was there some metaphysical trust fund that deposited funds into Joon-seong's bank account at regular intervals? Or did it mean he had a perfect, unerring talent for acquiring money, a Midas touch for won? The System's vague labelling was more frustrating than illuminating.
While he was lost in these thoughts, Joon-seong, left on a sort of idle standby mode, simply stared out at the street from their park bench. When Ervin finally turned his attention to what Joon-seong was seeing, he noticed there were a few passersby staring back at them, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern. He realized a young man sitting alone on a random alley staringaring blankly into space for an extended period, probably looked fairly odd.
"I figure it's better if we keep walking," he mentally ordered, deciding that constant motion was less suspicious than catatonic stillness. Joon-seong immediately began to walk again, his pace casual and unhurried. They walked without a clear destination until they reached a larger, more open park, a serene space with walking paths, benches, and families enjoying the day. Ervin directed him to sit down on a secluded bench under a large tree.
"Yep, this is totally a tropey Manhwa park," Ervin observed wryly. It was almost too perfect, too idyllic. On their way to the park, Ervin had seen numerous Korean signs on shops and street corners. He himself, Ervin, couldn't understand a single character, but Joon-seong's eyes had scanned them effortlessly, and the meaning had simply appeared in Ervin's mind. It wasn't that Ervin had learned Korean; it was that the data from Joon-seong's brain was being fed directly into his consciousness. "So I only know things he looks at, huh, interesting. So you do have a fully independent brain and knowledge base..." he pondered for a while. This was the key. Joon-seong was completely under his executive control, but he still had a normal, independent brain and a library of thoughts and knowledge, all seemingly influenced now by Ervin's overriding commands and native nature.
A new question emerged. "Can you speak on your own?" he asked Joon-seong directly, curious about the limits of this autonomy.
His body took a while, as if the vocal circuits were booting up independently for the first time. "Yes..." he replied, but the word was spoken in fluent, natural Korean.
Ervin felt a profound weirdness when Joon-seong spoke without a specific, pre-planned input. It didn't feel like another entity was speaking; it felt more like he had an intrusive thought, a sentence that just popped into the back of his head from a subconscious level. It was his own voice, his own mind, but it was being generated by the avatar's linguistic centers. The sensation was deeply alien. It was basically like having a highly intelligent, biological robot that could generate appropriate dialogue based on its programming and environment.
"Damn, I have to be careful then, so this guy doesn't start saying weird stuff..." Turns out Joon-seong could indeed have some level of independent verbal response, but it seemed to be purely reactive, a sophisticated auto-complete function. It only seemed to manifest if Ervin's own mind provided a vague prompt or question. A true independent personality would only emerge if Ervin deliberately crafted and maintained a fake persona inside his own head and fed it to the avatar.
Seeking more concrete data, Ervin called back the status windows again, the blue interface overlaying his vision.
[[System]
Player: Ervin Mandor
Character 1; Han Joon-seong
[Characteristics:
Adaptation(Perfect)
Talent(Perfect)
Auto Pilot(Perfect)
Money(Perfect|Middle-class)
Looks(Lvl. 2)
Speed(Lvl. 1)
Strength (Lvl. 2)
Endurance (Lvl. 2)
Vigor (Lvl.1)
Intelligence (Lvl. 2)
[Tasks:
None]]
Ervin's eyes moved past the enigmatic perfect characteristics and focused on his basic stats, the ones that described his "Status" in clear, game-like terms. They were now quantified with "Lvl."
""Lvl"... Could I possibly train these?" The thought was less a question and more a command. The moment the idea formed, Joon-seong, without any further instruction, stood up from the bench, found a flat patch of grass, and dropped into a push-up position. He began to do push-ups, his form decent but clearly strained, his arms trembling slightly on the tenth rep, putting his [Lvl. 1] vigor on full display. The body knew what to do; it just lacked the stamina to do it well.
Simultaneously, a message appeared in Ervin's face, a scrolling ticker of information.
[[System]
[Vigor is being trained... ]
[Strength is being trained... ]
[...]
[...]
[Vigor is being trained... ]
[Strength has gained experience 1/20]]
Ervin was pleasantly surprised. "Oh! so I actually can!" It was a thrilling discovery, a concrete action he could take in this abstract nightmare. He watched Joon-seong continue the exertion. Through the connection, he could feel the data of his body straining—the burn in the muscles, the effort required to push up, the slight ache in the shoulders. The information of the strain was there, and the difficulty too, even a simulation of pain. But Ervin didn't actually feel any of it. It was more like reading a very detailed diagnostic report about the pain rather than experiencing it firsthand. He was aware it was happening, but it carried no emotional or sensory weight for him.
After twenty push-ups, he told Joon-seong to stand back up and sit on the bench. His body was already covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his breathing slightly elevated. "[Vigor(Lvl.1)] Making itself noticeable, huh?" Ervin thought, analyzing the data stream.
He, Ervin, didn't actually feel tired. Not at all. He was as mentally fresh as when he started. But he knew that Joon-seong was tired. The fatigue was a fact, not a feeling. This was the core of their separation.
"... Go run a bit, will you?" He issued the next command, curious about the endurance stat. Joon-seong immediately stood up and started a light jog along the park's path. He was actually doing it pretty well. Ervin himself didn't know much about proper running technique, but his body instinctively knew what that method was—the right posture, the foot placement, the breathing rhythm. It was all automatic.
"So he has complete awareness and control of his own body, huh?" Ervin mused, content to observe. He was left behind on the bench, a disembodied camera, as Joon-seong slowly got farther and farther away, becoming a smaller figure in the distance.
A hour later.
The System messages began to scroll again, a satisfying counter of progress.
[[System]
[[Vigor(Lvl. 1)] is being trained... ]
[...]
[[Vigor(Lvl. 1)] is being trained... ]
[...]
[[Vigor(Lvl. 1)] is being trained... ]
[...]
[[Vigor(Lvl. 1)] is being trained... ]
[[Vigor(Lvl. 1)] has gained experience (10/10)]
[Vigor(Lvl. 1)] has evolved to [Vigor(Lvl. 2)]
[You have Spent All your Vigor. Cooldown time; 20 minutes]]
"So there's a limit to that, huh?" Ervin thought, not disappointed but fascinated by this game-like mechanic. It made a twisted sort of sense. Joon-seong had returned, and then slumped his way back to the bench, completely spent. He collapsed onto it, chest heaving.
Ervin stared at his body from the third-person view. Joon-seong was completely exhausted from the intense jog he just took. Almost a full hour of non-stop running had drained him utterly. Ervin then switched his focus, diving into his Body's POV, seeing the world through Joon-seong's tired eyes, feeling the ache in his lungs and the leaden weight of his legs.
"Weird.. Huff huff... I am tired but... Huff... at the same time I am not?" The thought formed in the shared space of their mind. He was experiencing the physical feedback of exhaustion, but the mental desire to quit, the whining voice of laziness that usually accompanied such strain, was completely absent. He realized that was the precise effect of having his conscious and unconscious mind separated. He, the conscious will, could command very tiring activities without being mentally taxed by them, without the internal struggle. The body would simply obey until its energy metrics hit zero.
Ervin retreated back to his comfortable third-person view, the master observing his tool.
"Let me guess, since I am no longer part of you... your laziness has completely evaporated, hasn't it?" From the bench, Joon-seong nodded his head slowly, still catching his breath. "Guess you're still just me, I guess... but without the negative parts?" The act of jogging with Joon-seong wasn't like actually jogging. If Ervin had to compare it, it was like moving a finger. The mental fortitude, the willpower required to command a full hour of running was about the same as the effort to will a finger to twitch. The immense physical cost was entirely outsourced.
"A very capable, and complex finger though," Ervin amended, looking at the sweating, panting young man who was his interface to this world. And just then, as if on a perfect timer, the [System] spoke up again with a soft chime.
[[System]
[Cooldown finished]]
The Vigor bar was full again. The fatigue data vanished Joon-seong like it was never there.
"... Well, I guess I always wanted to be shredded," He said with a mental shrug. There was nothing else to do, and this was productive. It was something he could control. And with that, he sent Joon-seong off for another round of jogging, the avatar obeying without a moment's hesitation, beginning the grind all over again.