A me that isn't me

My eyes snapped open.

The first thing I felt was a crushing weight on my own body, like I had been stitched back into reality.

My senses were there, but… sluggish. Numb.

My head throbbed.

I touched my forehead and felt the swollen skin—a freshly formed bruise.

Warm blood trickled down, sliding past my eyebrow—but then, it stopped.

The wound closed before my eyes at record speed.

… What the hell happened to me?

I blinked a few times, trying to focus my vision.

The room around me was strange.

Small. No—smaller than my apartment.

And even more empty.

The walls were almost bare, except for a few newspaper clippings haphazardly stuck here and there.

Bold headlines repeated themselves, all about celebrity hunters.

And one name stood out in large letters:

Marcus Calenbury.

The Sword Saint.

He stared at me from the printed photos, old but imposing—piercing blue eyes, slicked-back silver hair, a face of experience and power.

A chill ran down my spine.

Then, suddenly, everything came back all at once.

Like scattered pieces of "Liam" being forcefully put together into one.

My stomach twisted.

Something climbed up my throat.

Before I could stop it, I vomited onto the floor.

The sound was the only thing echoing in the cramped room.

[User Perseus, are you functional?]

Luxxion's robotic voice rang in my mind.

''Functi... What do you think?!''

I groaned, spitting out the bitter taste in my mouth.

[Physical discomfort is an expected side effect. Your body has been reconstructed to align with this reality.]

My gaze fell to the vomit on the floor.

Disgusting.

But something about it made me narrow my eyes.

This...

It wasn't just the place that changed.

The chunks of food inside the yellowish liquid looked… off.

It looked like noodles with chicken.

But that night, I had eaten… rice and beef.

A cold pressure gripped my chest.

I hadn't… turned into someone else again, had I?

Stumbling to my feet, my eyes scanned the room for a mirror.

Nothing.

The only thing remotely close was shattered into pieces, as if someone had punched it into oblivion.

But next to the worn-out mattress in the corner, I spotted something that might work.

A phone.

My fingers moved on their own, picking up the device and switching on the front camera.

The screen lit up—

And my eyes widened.

It was me. But not me.

Same face.

On the other hand, the hair…

Much longer than it should be.

Tied into a messy bun, with uneven bangs falling over my forehead.

My clothes were wrong too.

I wasn't wearing my hunter equipment anymore.

No vest, no protection.

Nothing I had bought.

Just a casual and downright ugly outfit. Something I would never choose of my own free will.

''Luxxion…''

[Before User Perseus jumps to conclusions, allow me to explain.]

The system's voice cut through my thoughts.

[The dimensional traversal process was not just a "sensation." Your body was literally reconstructed to align with this world's coherence. You are still you. But an adapted version, retaining only the consciousness of the original.]

I expected something like this.

But hearing it out loud… that was a whole different thing.

I stayed silent for a moment.

Then, I thought about the mission.

With the newspapers on the walls confirming my suspicions, I opened the browser on my phone and typed something.

Flame Emperor.

Nothing.

I tried again.

Death King.

Again, nothing.

The Tower's rankings hadn't changed yet.

And then, it clicked.

''I'm at the beginning of the story.''

[Correct. Based on known events, the protagonist of this world has recently returned to the past. However, he has not yet reached the point of obtaining the title "Death King."]

So the anomaly was happening right from the start?

[User Perseus is more intelligent and perceptive than he appears.]

I let out a short laugh.

''You're mocking someone who watched every episode of Scooby-Doo. I'm a kind of Sherlock, you know?''

[My statement is based on your statistics. Nothing more.]

''Right… But what about my equipment?''

If I had been reconstructed to fit into this world, that meant everything I was carrying had disappeared too?

[Your equipment has been stored in the user's inventory.]

A new tab popped up in front of me.

There they were.

My second-hand gear.

Or rather, calling it second-hand was generous.

More like third, fourth… maybe even fifth-hand.

The only things I had.

I sighed.

''Alright. Now… can you figure out where Kim Gongja is?''

[I do not know if with complete certainty. But I can infer a pattern by analyzing the nature of the magic that defines his existence, as well as the memories User Perseus holds about this world.]

''Then do it.''

[Processing… Please wait.]

Luxxion's voice faded.

I took advantage of the silence to dig a little deeper into my alternate self.

I grabbed the phone again and opened the gallery.

The images loaded.

Photos. Lots of them.

And all of them were incredibly dull.

Gray landscapes. Buildings. Empty streets. A cloudy sky.

People walking, out of context, like I had tried to be an artistic photographer and failed miserably.

No photos of myself. No personal records.

That's when I noticed it.

The weapon.

In the corner of the room, leaning against the wall, there was a rusty sword.

It looked like it had been used recently.

But the strangest detail was…

''He used a sword?''

The "me" from this world wasn't a spearman.

He was a swordsman.

Luxxion spoke again before I could think too much about it.

[Analysis complete.]

''And?''

[Based on the available information, it is highly probable that Kim Gongja is currently on the third floor of the Tower. If the story's progression remains minimally consistent, he should be fighting orcs right now.]

I had already expected that.

The tenth floor hadn't been cleared yet. That was what would make him famous.

Which meant finding him wouldn't be that hard.

The real problem was what came next.

''Alright… Guide me as best as you can.''

I opened the browser one last time, checking a few details before finally stepping out of that tiny room.

____________________

The Tower simply appeared one day.

One morning, humanity woke up, and it was just there.

They said you could see it from anywhere in the world.

The first ones to enter? Those with nothing to lose.

They were the pioneers of a new era. And inside, they found monsters.

And to fight them, skills were granted.

But not to warriors or geniuses.

The Tower chose those with insatiable desire.

Unyielding will.

Crushing envy.

And that's how Kim Gongja got his ability.

Not because he was a prodigy.

But because his life was shit.

And ironically… it became the most broken ability of all.

The power to copy skills.

And eventually—the power to turn back time.

Now, here I am.

On the third floor of the Tower.

It took me a while to figure out how to move between floors.

The Watchers, the military force monitoring the Tower, were the ones who helped me the most.

That, and obviously, random internet posts.

The transition felt surprisingly smooth.

Probably because I had already experienced a much worse cosmic teleportation just a few hours ago.

I sighed.

I was here to find Kim Gongja.

But first—

''Rrhaaaaugh!''

I had to survive this place.

The first orc charged forward.

Thick arms, green skin, tusks bared in a snarl.

The second followed closely behind, wielding a club the size of a tree trunk.

''Luxxion? Any suggestions?''

[There is a way to distract them.]

''What is it?''

[The user should say "Tchweek, Tchwik."]

I blinked.

''What?''

[A phrase used to trick orcs. In the original work, Kim Gongja used it as a skill—]

''You want me to growl at the orcs?''

[I highly recommend it. The System has activated automatic translation.]

I swallowed hard.

This was idiotic.

But also... what other option did I have?

Move aside, humanity!

''Tchweek, tchweek, tchweek—''

[The user does not need to improvise.]

Luxxion's voice said in my head.

The things exchanged looks. The second orc slightly lowered his club.

''Tchweek! Tchwik!''

It worked. Somehow.

That was all I needed.

I moved in.

My spear sliced through the air, piercing the first orc's flank.

This time, it went deeper.

The creature roared, stumbling backward.

The second raised his club to crush me.

I threw myself to the side—the impact hit the ground with a force that shook the air itself.

If that had hit me, I would've turned into paste.

[The user is still not fast enough. I recommend avoiding being hit.]

''Oh, really?! I never would've guessed!''

I pivoted and drove my spear straight into the first orc's foot.

The beast shrieked, losing balance.

The second one was already winding up another swing.

''Tchweek, you bastards!''

I yanked my spear free and drove it straight into the first orc's chest before he could recover.

The tip sank deep.

The orc let out a strangled grunt.

Then, he collapsed.

One down.

One left.

''Tchweek, tchweek!''

And he hesitated again.

My cue.

Luxxion sighed. Yes. A sigh.

[The user is abusing this tactic. I recommend ending the fight with dignity.]

''Screw that! I'm not dying here! I'm winning!''

I lunged forward, spinning my spear for momentum, and slashed the tip straight across the second orc's throat.

A direct hit.

A wet sound echoed as the blade tore through skin and muscle.

The orc's eyes widened. He choked, blood spilling from his mouth.

And collapsed forward, dead.

I stood there, breathing heavily, gripping my weapon tight. 

I was improving.

It was slow progress. And maybe I had cheated a little by catching them off guard…

But progress was still progress.

[Good job, user, for eliminating the targets.]

''Yeah, yeah. Now tell me, where's Kim—''

I stopped.

In the clearing ahead, a group of orcs surrounded a single person.

Black hair. A worn black jacket. A dagger in hand.

It looked a little different in real life, but I had read the webcomic enough to recognize that figure anywhere.

Since when had he arrived there?

Kim Gongja.

His mouth opened and closed, but he was alone.

He was talking to... that spirit that followed him, right?

The Sword Emperor or whatever?

My eyes narrowed as Gongja tossed an empty bottle aside, pointed his dagger at the orcs—

And threw himself straight into the fight.

Luxxion broke the silence.

[This is kind of stupid.]

''He's going to die.''

I was already running.

I probably wouldn't be much help. No, I definitely wouldn't be.

There were too many of them.

It was too late.

The orcs piled on him.

And Kim Gongja was beaten to death.

I froze.

My eyes widened as I watched the scene unfold.

Every blow twisted his body into unnatural angles.

Every impact sent blood spraying into the air.

His dagger slipped from his hands.

And then…

Nothing.

He was dead.

I had to have stopped this somehow.

My mind spiraled into panic.

Gongja could turn back time.

But what about me?

What would happen to me if the protagonist reset, and I got left behind?

Would I be trapped in this world, doomed along with the rest of this story?

Had I… already failed the mission?

Then—

The world shook.

It wasn't like Hongdae.

It was worse.

The world started breaking apart.

Not just freezing.

Shattering.

Collapsing.

The sky cracked like glass.

The ground split apart like dry leaves.

And I—

I was consumed.

My hands crumbled.

My skin turned to ash.

The entire world vanished along with me.

And then…

Darkness. Once again.

And a single voice.

[The user has died.]

A pause.

[But at least, this time, everything will be fine.]

[The world is resetting… one day back.]