On the lookout

The problem with dying repeatedly?

It wasn't just the pain.

It was the time.

Everything reset. Like I'd never been there. Like my death meant nothing.

I knew that.

But knowing it and feeling it—again and again—were two different things.

I ran a hand over my face, trying to shake off the nausea.

Would I ever get used to this?

The sensation of being torn apart and stitched back together still clung to my skin.

But this time… it was different.

Before the world collapsed, before my body turned to ash—

I saw him.

A masked stranger.

Sword in hand.

The memory scraped against my mind like a blade on stone.

Who the hell was he?

I knew this story. I knew how events were supposed to play out.

But he wasn't part of it.

And the best part?

He wasn't shocked by Gongja's death.

No panic. No rush to save him. Just… watching. Disappointed.

Like he had been expecting something.

Like he had wanted to kill him first.

Finally. A real clue.

Heat spread through my chest.

Something out of place.

If I was looking for the anomaly… maybe I'd just seen it with my own eyes.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the pounding in my skull.

The cycle had repeated.

Good.

That meant I could test him.

But first—I had to find him.

''Luxxion.''

[Yes, Perseus?]

''The masked man. Did you recognize anything about him?''

[Analyzing...]

A brief pause.

Then, the answer came:

[No information available in the user's database.]

I smiled.

''That's good.''

[The user seems pleased.]

''Of course I am,'' I said. ''Luxxion, it's not every day a mysterious guy appears out of nowhere and looks mad watching a protagonist get beaten to death.''

[Valid point.]

[However, considering the first unknown individual as the definitive anomaly might be premature.]

''I know. But it's a start.''

I crossed my arms.

Controlled breathing. Mask. Sword. Steady stance.

Whoever he was, he didn't seem like an amateur.

''Luxxion, did anything about him seem familiar? A posture, a fighting style, anything that rings a bell?''

[Partial correlation detected.]

''Correlation with what?''

[The user has seen something similar before. Not in conscious memory, but in stored data fragments.]

I raised an eyebrow.

''So, you're saying this is basically just a gut feeling of mine?''

[We could say it's an unconscious recognition based on patterns observed throughout your life. This includes literature, visual experiences, and instinctive associations.]

''Translation: my brain connected the dots without telling me.''

[A crude but functional way to put it.]

I sighed, crossing my arms.

''So, what's the pattern?''

[Insufficient data to determine with precision. However, the individual's behavior suggests combat experience.]

''How? He didn't even fight.''

[Exactly. And yet, he reacted like someone used to seeing violence.]

I was silent for a moment.

That was true.

The masked man didn't flinch.

But he also looked at Gongja dying—with anger.

The firm grip on the sword's hilt.

The tension in his body.

It wasn't the discomfort of a powerless civilian.

It was different.

''So you think he's a fighter?''

[Possible. But not confirmed.]

''Right… and nothing about his stance reminded you of something specific?''

[Posture and movement patterns suggest someone who has handled a sword professionally. However, without additional information, this remains a general inference.]

''Hm. So at the very least, he's not a complete nobody.''

[Correction: he is not a complete nobody within the parameters available at this time.]

I chuckled.

''You really need to learn how to simplify things.''

[The user needs to learn how to process information more efficiently.]

I scoffed, leaning against the wall and looking up at the dark sky.

That narrowed down the possibilities. Not much, but it was a start.

And a start was all I needed.

_______________

I followed Gongja again.

I'm starting to look like a damn stalker.

This time, I went after the masked man.

I called him Masked-Man.

Luxxion didn't like it.

[That's a terrible name.]

''Got a better one, then?''

[Anything that doesn't sound like it was named by a five-year-old.]

''Do I look like I care about your opinion?''

[If you did, you wouldn't make such lamentable choices.]

I closed my eyes for a second and ignored the damn digital parasite.

The fact remained: Masked-Man was still missing.

No matter where I looked, not even in the darkest shadows of the alleys where assassins usually lurked.

After all, even assassins need to breathe.

Hours passed.

Nothing.

No sign of him. Not a trace, not an extra clue.

I found myself circling the areas near Gongja, waiting for a repeat of the scene.

Gongja was more cautious than usual.

No potion, no rush. He just observed the orcs on the third floor, studying their patterns.

Then, before he even finished his hunt, he killed one.

And, miraculously, the guy hadn't died today.

Was that a good sign?

Maybe.

Maybe it meant I wouldn't have to see his face smashed into the ground again.

That the world wouldn't reset today.

But it also meant Masked-Man wouldn't be showing up anytime soon.

By the way...

Did he notice that guy before he died?

Or maybe… he noticed me?

When night fell and Gongja returned to his residence, I let out a sigh and lowered my guard.

That place was safe.

I followed the protagonist's example and stopped for a moment.

The adrenaline wore off, and my head finally had space to think about something else.

''Luxxion, you mentioned scrolls and other ways to learn skills.''

[That statement is correct.]

''So… is there anything I can use right now?''

[The first-floor city market offers a variety of techniques and enhancement methods. However, acquisition is subject to the user's resources.]

Resources.

Money.

I made a quick mental count.

About five hundred gold coins.

In my world, that would have been a fortune.

Here? That amount was little more than beggar's change.

Fate was a bastard.

Poor in the new world. Poor in another dimension.

I sighed and headed to the central market.

The moment I arrived, I realized my lack of money wouldn't be my only problem.

The vendors were more cunning than snakes.

Each one trying to push the most overpriced product possible.

I tried to negotiate.

Just to fail miserably.

''One hundred and fifty coins for this?! I can find the same thing for eighty just over there.''

''If you can, then why are you still here?''

''Because I enjoy watching people ruin themselves with terrible pricing decisions.''

''Come back when you have real money, kid.''

''This is exploitation! I'm going to report you!''

''To who? The guards who eat at my stall every morning?''

I stepped back with a grimace.

I was definitely not a good negotiator.

After a lot of arguing and a few threats of being kicked out of the market, I ended up buying two books.

The first was a spear technique manual.

"Ascending Dragon's Fury."

According to the description, a technique developed for quick and precise strikes, simulating the movement of a dragon emerging from the depths.

Luxxion confirmed it was compatible with my body.

The second was a cultivation book.

Yes. Cultivation.

It felt like something straight out of a Murim novel. But it was the cheapest option available.

Everyone walked right past it. I didn't.

The name?

"Fundamentals of the Inner Path."

It sounded generic, but Luxxion assured me it at least contained something useful.

''If I'm going to fight someone experienced, I better start training properly. Just physical exercise won't be enough.''

[The user has finally reached this conclusion? Progress detected.]

''Oh, screw you.''

[Available options: holographic combat simulation or direct knowledge absorption.]

I sighed.

''It probably has a lot of limitations now.''

[Not exactly.]

[Flipping through the pages transfers the data to my database. Direct absorption, however, implants the fundamentals into your brain. But without practice, your proficiency will be minimal.]

''So, in the end, I still have to work my ass off.''

[Yes. But at least with a more efficient starting point. Considering your history, every millisecond of advantage counts.]

With the books in hand, I left the market, still feeling like I had been scammed.

But at least now, I had something to test.

It was time to stop getting beaten up and start fighting back.