Development?

Welt opened the old pamphlet. His mind began syncing Cheon Donghwan's memories with his new body, Welt. Slowly, he could read.

The first page was titled "Of the Interface", and it opened with an eccentric line: "That which comes from beyond the world is older than the world itself."

He read it, trying to make sense of those words. His thoughts were fixed on survival. He needed to adapt quickly, to become an Evolver. The book divided Evolvers into several paths:

Cultivation Path: Focused on martial arts, infused with magical abilities. Similar to the Murim world.

Pure Magus Path: Uses magic directly, without physical strength.

Allmanship Path: Mastery over multiple disciplines, from swordmanship to spearmanship techniques to other skills, all inseparable from magic in this world.

The rest of the paths were unreadable. There was only one instruction available under the Cultivation Path: a technique called "Bizarre Dao of the Outers." The name made his skin crawl, but he needed power. To perform it, he needed specific materials.

"One healing potion mixed with gold, consumed alongside the blood of the Antlered Tree. Then meditate until a nadir forms, creating a nadir circuit throughout the body. Requires an entire day of stillness, any movement, even an inch, results in failure." That was the book's instruction.

Healing potion? Gold? Antlered Tree blood?

"Do I really have to eat these things?" he muttered, then shook his head. "Of course I do. No choice."

Welt peered out his room's window. An old bank stood in view. Its security looked pathetic, probably because nobody was stupid enough to rob a bank protected by Evolvers.

"Well, somebody's about to be that stupid."

He took a cloth, planning to rob the bank that very night. He prepared additional cloths to carry the money.

Late into the night, Welt waited until the streets were empty. He slipped out through his window. The cobbled road stretched before him, dark and quiet. The bank had several ways in, but none looked easy.

He could try a window, but guards would be patrolling. Or he could use the darkness. Even with candles and lanterns, their light barely reached eight meters.

Wearing a cloth mask, Welt tried to force his way in. It was like hitting an invisible wall. He pushed harder. Nothing.

"Evolver protection. Great."

Before the guards noticed anything, Welt darted to an abandoned building nearby. Moss covered the crumbling walls. He saw guards beginning their patrol.

"Time to be a shadow."

He removed his shoes and crept behind the guards, step by step. His heart hammered every time their lantern light swung close. These guards were low-level Evolvers, but they were still Evolvers. One mistake and he was dead.

The first guard stopped suddenly. "You hear that?"

"What?" his partner asked, turning his lantern toward a pile of debris.

"Thought I heard something. Probably rats."

They continued walking. Welt followed, barely breathing. His bare feet made no sound on the cold stone floor. Sweat dripped down his back despite the chill.

After what felt like hours, he found his gap. The guards were lazy, trusting their strength too much. Welt slipped inside and hid in a dark corner. His eyes adjusted slowly. There, an "Administration" room.

He pushed the door open slowly, wincing at the small creak. Inside, a desk sat covered with papers and, more importantly, a locked drawer. He felt around the edges until he found a loose board underneath. Behind it, a small cache of coins.

He grabbed as much money as he could, stuffing nine gryn into his clothes.

"This better be enough."

Then he heard it. Footsteps. Running toward him.

"Shit."

"Did you hear that?" one of the five guards called out.

"Yeah. Clear as day!" another responded.

"Someone's in the admin room!"

A guard's face appeared right in front of him, lantern blazing.

"He's here! Hurry!"

Welt ran. His small body darted through corridors while heavy boots thundered behind him. Being small had advantages, he could squeeze through gaps and change direction quickly. But stamina was a problem.

"Stop running, you little thief!"

"Where does he think he's going?"

"Block the exits!"

Gasping for air, he dove into a filthy, unused bathroom. The smell hit him like a brick wall. Rotting wood, stagnant water, and something worse.

"Where do you think you're going, kid?"

No energy left. He was caught…

"Hands up, kid."

"Please, I was just—"

"Shut up." The burly guard grabbed him by the collar. "Search him."

They patted him down, turned out his pockets, questioned him for twenty minutes. Found nothing. The gryn were hidden too well.

"Maybe he didn't take anything," one guard suggested.

"Then what was he doing here?"

"Kids these days, probably just exploring."

They let him go after a beating that left his ribs aching and his lip split.

"Next time we catch you here, kid, you're going to the cells. Understand?"

"Y-yes sir."

"Now get out."

Welt stumbled out into the night, bruised but victorious.

"Damn... that was close. Too close."

Back in his room, he collapsed onto his thin mattress. He fell asleep at the inn and felt completely exhausted because the theft was his first crime in this world, and of course he felt guilty because he had stolen using someone else's body.

...…

After wake up, he had one more disgusting task. He went to the toilet with tissues and water, searched through his waste, and found the nine gryn coins. Gold didn't dissolve in stomach acid.

"Next time I will not swallow them, not again," he muttered while scrubbing the coins with soap until his hands were raw.

During the day, face covered with a worn scarf, Welt headed to the Black Market. He hunched over and walked with a limp to disguise his height and age.

The market was a maze of narrow alleys and covered stalls. Smoke from cooking fires mixed with incense and stranger scents. Vendors called out their wares in multiple languages. Some sold normal goods, bread, cloth, simple tools. Others offered things that made his skin crawl.

He passed a stall selling what looked like preserved eyeballs floating in jars. Another had dried plants that moved on their own. A third displayed knives that seemed to whisper when the wind passed over them.

Finally, he found a stall selling mysterious liquids. The vendor was ancient, his face so wrinkled it looked like old leather.

"Old man, how much for one healing potion?"

"Ah, good choice! Just 2.5 gryn, cheaper than the others!"

Welt looked around at the competing stalls. "Your neighbors are selling for 2.2."

"Those are watered down! Mine are pure, fresh from the Healing Springs themselves!"

"Can I get it for 2 gryn? Your price is too high."

"Impossible! If you can't afford it, go elsewhere!" The gray-haired merchant glared at him through thick glasses. Bottles filled with smoking, glowing liquids surrounded him. Some bubbled constantly. Others seemed to pulse with their own heartbeat. The air reeked of herbs, metal, and something that made Welt's nose burn.

"Look, old man, I'm a regular customer. I buy from this market every week." Welt lied smoothly. "Give me a good price and I'll come back."

The merchant studied him for a long moment. "You drive a hard bargain, boy. I stand by my decision. 2.5 gryn, but I throw in a minor antidote for free. You look like you might need it."

"Deal."

He handed over the cleaned coins. The merchant weighed them in his gnarled palm, bit one to test it, then nodded. A small bottle of moss-green liquid was passed across the counter.

"Best healing potion you'll find, straight from the source. Don't shake it."

The liquid glowed dimly inside, swirling with patterns that hurt to look at directly. "Do you sell Antlered Tree blood?"

The old man's eyebrows shot up. "You know that stuff? Not common. Only high-level Evolvers seek it out, or the truly desperate." He leaned forward, studying Welt carefully. "What does a boy like you need it for?"

"Research."

"Research?" The merchant snorted. "In that tiny body? You've got guts, I'll give you that. What kind of research needs Antlered Tree blood?"

"The dangerous kind."

"Hah! I like your answer. Yes, I have some, but it's expensive. Very expensive. Five gryn."

Nearly all his remaining money. Welt pretended to consider other options, looking around the stall. "That's steep. What makes it so special?"

"You really don't know?" The old man seemed genuinely surprised. "Antlered Tree blood isn't just rare, boy. It's impossible. The trees grow in places where reality gets thin, guarded by beings that exist between worlds. The blood doesn't just heal, it changes you! Makes you part of something larger!"

"Changes how?"

"Depends on what you mix it with. And what you're trying to become." The merchant's eyes glittered. "But you already know that, don't you? Otherwise you wouldn't be here asking."

"Can you go lower on the price?"

"For something this dangerous? No. That's the lowest. I had to pay twice that just to get it, and I lost three fingers in the process." He held up his left hand, showing only two remaining digits. "Antlered Tree guardians don't like visitors."

Beings not of this world. Just like the book's opening line.

"Fine." He handed over his remaining gryn.

The old man smiled and reached under his table. He produced a small vial filled with dark red liquid. The blood pulsed softly, and just looking at it made Welt feel cold down to his bones.

"Here it is. Word of advice, don't spill it on your skin unless you're ready for what happens next. And boy?"

"Yes?"

"Whatever you're planning, be very careful. That blood remembers where it came from."

The vial felt both cold and hot, like holding ice and fire at the same time. Welt tucked it inside his clothes along with the healing potion.

"Anything else you need, boy?"

"Information. What do you know about the Order of Essence Guardians?"

The merchant's face went pale. He looked around quickly, then leaned close. "Not here. Too many ears. But I'll tell you this, stay away from them. Far away."

"Why?"

"Because they collect boys like you. Boys with questions and ambition. And they don't give them back."

He wandered through the market after that conversation, passing stalls filled with creature organs that still twitched, ancient weapons covered in runes, and maps with writing that seemed to change when he wasn't looking directly at it. This was a place where the impossible was bought and sold daily.

At one stall, he overheard two hooded figures talking in low voices.

"The Eastern Grand Consul is moving again."

"About time. Things have been too quiet."

"Quiet means trouble brewing. Mark my words."

Another stall displayed newspaper clippings pinned to a board. Headlines about missing persons, strange phenomena, "Essence Disturbances" in various districts. One caught his eye, "Third Disappearance in Nine Cruches District This Month."

His district.

Now he needed somewhere safe for the ritual. A full day without moving. Not at an inn, too risky with all these disappearances. He needed complete isolation.

The old hut in the forest where he first woke up. Perfect.

Leaving the city undetected wouldn't be easy, especially with no money for train fare. The steam trains ran regularly, but tickets cost more than he had. He'd have to walk.

As evening approached, he made his way toward the city's edge. The buildings gradually changed from grand townhouses to modest homes to ramshackle shacks. The roads went from cobblestone to packed dirt. Tree silhouettes appeared in the distance.

He passed the last guard post without incident. Most guards were looking for people trying to get into the city, not leave it.

Hours later, complete darkness covered everything. Welt reached the forest's edge. Night insects chirped and buzzed. Somewhere in the distance, something howled, not quite wolf, not quite human. The wind carried scents of damp leaves, rich earth, and something else that made his primitive instincts scream danger.

He entered anyway, following faint paths from memory. Every shadow could hide a predator. Every sound could mean death. But he pressed on.

That night, he didn't sleep. He sat against a large oak tree, back protected, checking his materials over and over. The healing potion glowed softly through the bottle. The Antlered Tree blood pulsed like a heart. The book's instructions were burned into his mind, but he read them again by moonlight.

"One healing potion mixed with gold, consumed alongside the blood of the Antlered Tree. Then meditate until a nadir forms, creating a nadir circuit throughout the body. Requires an entire day of stillness, any movement, even an inch, results in failure."

Simple words for something that could kill him.

Hunger gnawed at his stomach. His water was nearly gone. He ignored both. Tomorrow, everything would change.

Dawn broke with pale light filtering through the canopy. The forest remained damp and cold, covered in morning mist that made everything look ghostly. Welt's body was stiff from sitting all night, but his resolve burned hotter than ever. He found the old hut, dark and abandoned as before.

Inside, dust particles danced in the weak sunlight. Spiderwebs stretched across corners like nature's own surveillance system. He cleared space in the center, sweeping away debris with his hands, and placed the book beside him where he could see it.

"No turning back now."

He opened both bottles with steady hands. Strange scents mixed in the air—the healing potion smelled like wet earth and flowers, while the Antlered Tree blood carried hints of copper and something alien. He dropped his cleaned gryn into the healing potion and watched it dissolve, then poured in the blood. The mixture churned and bubbled, turning deep, shimmering purple that seemed to contain tiny stars.

Welt drank it in one gulp. It tasted like dirt and metal had a baby with something rotten, then added notes of lightning and regret. Warmth spread down his throat, followed immediately by cold that made his teeth ache. Then came the energy, some of liquid fire rushing through his veins like molten lightning.

He lay flat on the dusty floor as instructed. Eyes closed, he focused on the alien sensation crawling under his skin. This had to be the World's Essence the book mentioned.

The feeling grew stronger, pulsing, moving through him like a living thing. New pathways formed inside him, invisible circuits that he could somehow sense as they took shape. His muscles twitched involuntarily. Cold sweat covered his skin. The urge to move, to scratch, to do anything was overwhelming.

But he stayed still.

One inch meant death. The book was clear on that.

Time stretched endlessly. One hour. Two. Four. Every minute felt like a year. Forest sounds faded until only his heartbeat and the swirling essence remained. The energy wanted to burst out of him, to explode in all directions, but he held it in through pure will and growing desperation.

The circuits became clearer, forming intricate patterns throughout his body. He could sense them like new organs, new pathways for power to flow. This was the nadir the book described. His foundation as an Evolver.

Midday came and went. The sun moved across the sky above the hut. His stomach cramped with hunger. His throat felt like sandpaper. Every part of his body screamed for movement, for water, for relief.

He stayed still.

Evening approached. Light through the cracks in the walls dimmed to orange, then red. The energy inside him continued its work, carving new channels, building new connections. Sometimes it felt like ants crawling under his skin. Other times like electricity running through his bones.

Night fell. The forest came alive with sounds, owls hooting, creatures moving through undergrowth, that same not-quite-wolf howl from before, now closer. Much closer.

Still, he didn't move.

The sensation peaked near midnight in one powerful surge that made every nerve in his body light up. Then, suddenly, silence. Not emptiness, peace. The energy had settled, fully integrated. The circuits were part of him now, as natural as breathing.

Welt opened his eyes. Everything felt different. He could sense energy around him, faint but real, like seeing heat waves rising from summer pavement. It was as if someone had removed a blindfold he never knew he was wearing.

He rose slowly, testing his new body. It felt light yet substantial, like he was made of stronger stuff than before. Fire simmered beneath his skin, waiting to be called upon. He raised a fist and watched faint energy dance around his knuckles.

"Finally."

He was an Evolver. Cultivation Path. Bizarre Dao of the Outers.

The ritual had succeeded!

Outside the hut, the forest looked identical but completely different. Every leaf, every branch glowed faintly with Essence. He could see the life force in everything, the slow pulse of trees, the quick flutter of small animals, even the strange, twisted energy of things that probably shouldn't exist.

He was connected now, part of this world in ways he'd never imagined possible.

But this was just the beginning. He was still weak, probably much weaker than those bank guards. The power thrumming through him felt vast but untrained, like owning a sword but not knowing how to use it. He needed to train, master the Bizarre Dao, level up, and figure out what other abilities came with his new status.

Most importantly, he needed to understand what he'd become. The Antlered Tree blood had changed him in ways beyond just granting power. He could feel it in his bones, in his thoughts. He was still himself, but also something more. Something that belonged to the spaces between worlds.

Welt felt no joy, no celebration. Only cold satisfaction and deepening resolve. This was step one of a thousand-mile journey. This world was full of threats and mysteries waiting to kill him, the Order of Essence Guardians, the Eastern Grand Consul, whatever was making people disappear, and countless other dangers he hadn't discovered yet.

"Let them come," he said to the darkening forest. "I'll be ready."

He wouldn't stop. Not ever. The path ahead was long and deadly, but he would walk it. He had no other choice.