"Hmm..."
It was in the middle of the night when Lennok finally opened his eyes, tormented by a burning thirst.
The room was already swallowed in darkness, rendering everything invisible.
Clutching his throbbing head, Lennok barely managed to sit up. He fumbled along the wall with his hand until he found the switch.
Only then did the room light up, revealing the scenery of the hotel room before him.
He stumbled toward the small kitchen, turned on the sink, and gulped down water as if his life depended on it.
As his thirst was quenched and he tried to straighten himself, a wave of nausea surged up, forcing him to grab onto the sink again.
"Urgh!!"
Having consumed nothing but cigarette smoke all day, all he could vomit was the painful sting of stomach acid.
Pressing his head, which felt like it was about to shatter, Lennok collapsed back onto the bed in the middle of the room.
His head pounded wildly, and the aching in his muscles felt as if his joints were being torn apart.
His entire body trembled, limbs twisting at unnatural angles. Stomach cramps and nausea wrung him out like a rag.
"…Is this a side effect?"
Recalling that even the grueling work in the factory never made him feel this miserable, he was certain.
He had never touched drugs before, but this must be what withdrawal felt like.
Even as the ceiling spun above him, Lennok instinctively knew—he wouldn't be able to let go of these cigarettes anytime soon.
They were the only thing that allowed his frail body to function like a normal person, even if just temporarily.
Regaining a semblance of clarity, he felt the stabbing pain of hunger. He hadn't eaten in over twelve hours.
Crawling on all fours, he pried open the fridge in the corner of the room and grabbed a can of food. He tore it open and shoveled the contents into his mouth with his bare hands.
The taste was vague, like ground-up mystery meat, but compared to the slop served at the factory, it was practically a feast.
Once his stomach was somewhat full, drowsiness overwhelmed him again.
The sleepless nights plagued by insomnia had taken a severe toll on his mind.
In the end, Lennok only woke up when the hotel phone blared noisily the next day.
[You have one hour left before your scheduled checkout. Would you like to extend your stay?]
"…Yeah."
[That will be 200,000 sel for one night. Additionally, the consommé-flavored canned food you consumed costs 20,000 sel. Your total comes to 220,000 sel. You've already paid a 100,000 sel deposit, so please pay the remaining 120,000 sel at the counter before the day ends.]
A single can of food costing 20% of a night's stay? This was beyond overpricing—it was outright robbery.
Lennok let out a hollow laugh and tossed the phone away.
Even after sleeping an entire day, his body still felt heavy. But it was much better than when he had first escaped.
With great effort, Lennok sat up and counted his remaining money.
"130,000 sel… After paying the hotel, I'll only have 10,000 left."
He hadn't even been in this world for 24 hours, but he already understood one thing—10,000 sel was nowhere near enough for anything.
Realizing he wouldn't last another day at this rate, Lennok stood up with newfound resolve.
His first goal since escaping was clear.
He needed money.
Securing Cash
He stepped into the shower and scrubbed himself thoroughly. This was the first time he had washed since waking up in this place.
After soaking himself in hot water, he finally stood before the sink. It was only then that he truly faced his reflection.
"..."
Sunken eyes, long unkempt black hair. Deep dark circles and pale lips. Skin so ghostly pale that veins were visible beneath the surface.
At least his sharp nose gave his face some definition.
Looking down at his emaciated, stick-thin frame, Lennok scoffed.
His condition was so poor that he barely recognized himself from when he had first created this character in the selection menu.
Grabbing a razor from the sink, he hacked off the long strands of hair.
With his hair completely cut, his entire impression changed. He no longer looked gloomy—just irritable.
Staring into the mirror for a moment, Lennok nodded in satisfaction.
This should be enough to keep the overseers from recognizing him easily.
Though he believed he had shaken off any pursuers, it was best to stay cautious.
Donning the baggy casual clothes stolen from a supervisor, Lennok emptied his pockets onto the bed to assess his belongings.
130,000 sel in cash
A single handgun with five bullets
A dozen cigarette packs stolen from the overseer's room
His factory work uniform had long been discarded. The car key was left behind when he abandoned the vehicle.
This was all he had.
Sitting on the bed, Lennok fell deep into thought.
What did he need to survive in this unfamiliar world?
His first answer was clear.
But before earning money, he had several problems to address.
"No matter how I look at it… making money legally is impossible."
In this world, Lennok was nothing more than an undocumented drifter.
He had no idea if there was a way to obtain legal citizenship, and even if such a method existed, it would require time and money—luxuries he didn't have.
He couldn't even afford another night at the hotel.
That meant his options were limited.
Even in the face of immediate starvation, Lennok's mind methodically analyzed his choices and calculated his odds.
If legality wasn't a concern, then there were countless ways to make money.
Even if it meant stepping outside the bounds of morality and ethics, as long as it was within reason, he could find work.
With his magic, taking down criminals lurking in the city's underbelly and looting their wallets wouldn't be too difficult.
"That's the most viable plan for now."
It wouldn't provide a stable income, but it was a quick way to get cash.
With his decision made, Lennok got up from the bed.
To catch fish, he needed to go where the waters were deep.
Sweeping his belongings into his coat, he left the room, paid for the night's stay, and stepped outside.
Shielding himself from the harsh sunlight, he took a deep breath.
His head spun, and his breathing grew ragged, but he resisted the urge to smoke.
'I have to endure it.'
If he got used to relying on cigarettes whenever things got tough, his body would eventually fall apart.
Moreover, once he started smoking, he would have a time limit before the side effects kicked in.
Unless absolutely necessary, he needed to stay sober and clear-headed.
Standing in the shade, Lennok observed the flow of people in the city.
He hadn't decided where to go yet, but he could feel a pull—a vague instinct leading him.
'That way.'
Amidst the intertwining life signals in the city, Lennok's innate talent grasped a faint strand of magic.
A dark, sticky presence rising from a distant corner of the city.
It was a new sensation, but Lennok instinctively understood—it belonged to those who lurked in the shadows.
The magic of criminals who thrived in the underbelly of the city, leeching off the blood of others.
A perfect match for him right now.
Following the magical traces, Lennok arrived at a chaotic district—an entangled mess of entertainment venues, gambling dens, street vendors, and abandoned construction sites.
A discarded sign in the corner read "Zone 49."
Blinding neon lights and gaudy signs flashed in every direction, mixing with suffocating perfume and acrid smoke.
Even at midday, heavy shadows cloaked the streets, filled with people avoiding eye contact.
Lennok wasn't surprised by the stark contrast to the bustling city center.
Where there was wealth, parasites would always gather. It was the same in every world.
He sat in a quiet corner, drawing upon his magic.
Tuning his senses, he focused on the whispered conversations around him.
Even without training, the process felt entirely natural.
In an instant, his hearing became sharply acute, picking up sounds from all directions.
Lenoch leaned against a wall on the street, focusing on every sound coming from inside the building.
"They're looking for an agency to lobby for the selection of a construction company in the 17th Development District. The deal is an 80-20 split."
"An engineer inspecting a malfunction in Palmer Corporation's new AI went missing. They'll probably hire a replacement soon."
"I want to bribe a druid to participate in the Green Belt reduction plan. Planning to smuggle out one of the T9 endangered species."
Dangerous and lucrative conversations flowed around him, but he had no intention of getting involved in things he couldn't yet fully understand.
He quickly filtered out unfamiliar terms and expanded his range further.
As his senses stretched outward according to his will, he absorbed every sound from across the street in an instant.
It had been less than a week since he started properly using magic, yet his ability to control mana had already far surpassed his perception.
He skipped over conversations that seemed absurdly dangerous or excessively complex.
Some areas were completely blocked off, as if a barrier prevented his mana from penetrating, but he ignored them.
He was searching for an opportunity—something simple enough for him to intervene, profitable, and without lingering consequences.
Making money in a city jungle far removed from the shadows of laws and regulations.
Then, as his magic extended into a damp alley where the street and sewer system intersected…
["I told you to bring the stolen money quickly. Are you deaf?"]
"…Found it."
Lenoch's eyes flashed as he moved swiftly.
A nameless back alley filled with moisture.
Water trickled along the ground, while factory exhaust lingered in the air between the isolated gaps of industrial buildings.
Two men were mercilessly kicking someone lying on the ground.
Thud! Thud!
"...What did I say?"
The man leading the kicks lit a cigarette with trembling hands.
"I told you everything would be fine if you handled this job properly. So why the hell did you steal the money and then come back saying you lost it? Huh?"
"I-I'm not lying... It really, really just disappeared…"
Smack!!
The older man, his face already bloodied, had his head snapped to the side.
The other man, standing beside the furious attacker, shook his head.
"No solution here. We needed that money to make this month's installment…"
"Huff… Huff… This is the third time. That damned dwarf won't let this slide."
"Here's what we do."
A dangerous glint appeared in the man's eyes.
"We take one guy out and sell his organs."
His partner smirked.
"Now you're talking."
Their gazes simultaneously turned to the man lying on the ground.
The moment he realized what they meant, his face went pale.
"Aaargh!!!"
"Gaaahhh!!!"
Suddenly, both men rolled their eyes back and began convulsing violently.
Foaming at the mouth, they twitched and collapsed, revealing Lenoch standing behind them.
A cigarette now hung from his lips.
"Hmph."
Blue sparks flickered between his fingertips.
"Works like a charm."
It was just a basic bolt spell, but more than enough to knock out two people.
Ignoring the dazed gaze of the beaten man, Lenoch began rifling through the pockets of the unconscious thugs.
A normal person might hesitate, but stealing from failed organ traffickers didn't trigger a shred of guilt.
He emptied their wallets, collected their watches and jewelry, and searched for anything else valuable.
As he rummaged, his fingers brushed against something hard in the jacket of the man who had been kicking earlier.
"What's this?"
He pulled it out, and the older man flinched in horror, immediately collapsing back onto the ground.
"P-please, don't point that at me!!"
It was a metallic object, resembling a fountain pen. When he pressed the button in the center, a faint whirring sound, like an engine spinning up, filled the air.
Between the engraved circuit-like patterns on its surface, a dim magical glow seeped through. It was clearly no ordinary item.
"T-that's an illegally modified laser cutter from Dyke Corporation! That thing can cut through reinforced steel. If it hits a person, they'll be sliced clean through…"
"Hm…"
So the street thugs in this world carried things like this?
'If cutting is the goal, magic would be more convenient…'
He considered it for a moment but ultimately pocketed the cutter.
His gun only had five bullets left. More self-defense options were always welcome.
After gathering everything worth taking, Lenoch stood up and glanced at the man still lingering nearby.
He had specifically chosen a simple and clean-cut case to get involved in, but maybe eliminating the witness was the safest option.
"Would knocking him out erase his memory?"
As Lenoch murmured, electricity crackled between his fingers, making the man tremble violently.
"I-I swear I won't tell anyone!!"
"Easy to say."
The man's terror deepened at Lenoch's cold reply.
"If… If there's something you want…?"
"I just got to this city," Lenoch grinned.
"I'm looking for work."
Library.
Watching the man scramble away into the alley, Lenoch adjusted his exhausted expression.
He had considered silencing him permanently, but no matter how much he had hardened, he wasn't the type to kill an innocent bystander.
There had been no hesitation when he killed the overseers who brutally abused him in the factory, but this was different.
He had taken the guy's business card. If trouble came from this, he could deal with it later.
The two thugs, once awake, would be seething with rage, but that wasn't Lenoch's problem.
As he left the damp alley, he counted the money he had taken.
"...Not bad."
They had mentioned being short on their installment payments, so they must have been holding onto a significant sum.
Between the two of them, Lenoch had acquired around 700,000 sell.
Even after deducting various expenses, that would cover roughly four more days at the hotel.
Not a bad haul for shaking down a couple of back-alley thugs.
With the money in hand, he immediately left the entertainment district and stopped by a nearby clothing store.
His current outfit didn't fit well, making him stand out too much.
A simple shirt and jeans. Enough to blend in.
Returning to the 49th district, Lenoch wandered the streets before finding a rundown pharmacy with only a barely-hanging sign.
As he stepped inside, a scruffy pharmacist weakly lifted his head to check his customer.
"Sleeping pills. How much for a week's supply?"
The pharmacist replied sluggishly.
"150,000 Sel."
The price was higher than expected, causing a twitch in Lenok's brow, but he handed over the money without complaint and received seven packets of pills.
He needed them—desperately. Anything to put an end to the relentless insomnia that plagued him night after night.
Lenok had already suffered enough sleepless nights at the factory, eyes wide open as exhaustion gnawed at him, his mind and body screaming for rest that never came. He had no intention of enduring that torment again.
He'd found that chain-smoking until he passed out was an option, but relying on cigarettes as a sleep aid was both foolish and self-destructive.
Though he had no choice but to push his body to its limits with constant doping, he knew better than to overdo it—his already weak frame couldn't handle too much strain.
With the funds secured and a means of ensuring proper rest in place, he finally felt a bit of breathing room.
Lenok left Zone 49 and made his way straight to the bustling city center, where the crowds were thickest.
Asking for directions along the way, he eventually arrived at a massive library situated at the very edge of the commercial district—a towering ten-story building, entirely dedicated to housing books and data.
After shaking off the lingering scent of cigarettes clinging to him, he stepped inside and found himself a seat.
The first thing he needed to look into wasn't general information about this world—but knowledge about magic.
"What matters most is developing my magical abilities to their fullest. Everything else can wait."
A lot had happened since he woke up in this world, but Lenok hadn't forgotten the penalties he had inflicted upon this body.
The negative traits he had willingly accepted through the Karma System, all for the sake of maximizing his magical talent.
Among them, the most devastating one: "Genius' Curse."
An extreme trade-off—extraordinary talent in exchange for dramatically shortened lifespan, dooming him to a countdown he could not escape.
"Now that I think about it, it's strange that such a trait even existed."
A lifespan-related trait in a game where characters didn't age? If he had noticed how odd that was from the start, could things have turned out differently?
It didn't matter anymore.
Regret was pointless.
Because of that choice, his objective was now clearer than ever:
Survival.
He had to find a way to extend the rapidly melting candle that was his life.
And the key to that solution was already in his grasp.
Time magic.
If there was a way to manipulate his lifespan, it would be hidden among the highest tier of unique magic—Sinister Spells.
As a Gunmage, he had never been able to access them before. The class restrictions had made sure of that.
But now?
Now he had full access to magic, and he fully understood just how vast and powerful his talent was. He just needed to figure out how to harness it properly.
Thankfully, an entire floor—the 8th—was dedicated to magic. Books and data were neatly organized there, providing an ocean of knowledge for him to dive into.
Lenok immediately gathered what looked like introductory texts and began to devour them.
"How to sense mana, principles of storing it within the body, the dangers of mana control, fifteen essential preparations for casting magic..."
Completely useless information.
He had awakened his mana in just three days and was already casting spells.
He skipped through them without hesitation, flipping through pages at lightning speed, absorbing knowledge like a machine.
Pages fluttered and turned rapidly, until finally, he stopped at the last chapter of one book.
"Mana Patterns."
Ah, right. He had heard of this before.
As a Gunmage, it was never relevant to him, so he had ignored it—but now, it deserved his full attention.
According to the book, from the moment a mage awakens mana, their mana pattern is formed.
Every spell they cast leaves behind traces of this pattern, making it a unique fingerprint of sorts. Once a pattern is set, it cannot be altered.
"Though for mages of Level 8 and above, this limitation becomes meaningless, as they can manipulate mana at the particle level..."
"Level 8, huh? How strong is that exactly?"
In World 2.0, magic users weren't categorized by levels, but by the rank of Sinister Spells they could wield.
Which meant he had no clear reference for how powerful a Level 8 mage actually was.
Still, since this was an unfamiliar concept, it was worth checking his own mana pattern firsthand.
Lenok followed the book's instructions—
He opened his palm, pressed his index finger to the center, and let mana flow through.
As the energy coursed through his hand, intricate spirals began forming across his palm.
Lenok watched with fascination, but his expression soon shifted.
When he moved his mana slightly, the spirals collapsed and transformed—shifting into a complex pattern of countless diamond-shaped formations.
"…?"
He altered his mana flow again, and this time, the diamonds dissolved into a sea of concentric circles, rippling across his palm.
Within moments, he realized—
He could change his mana pattern at will.
This shouldn't be possible.
The book had stated clearly—once a pattern is set, it is immutable.
Yet here he was, freely altering it like it was nothing.
That meant only one thing.
Even without knowing exactly where Level 8 stood in terms of strength, it was obvious—
He had already reached, or perhaps even surpassed, that threshold.
And it had only been three days since he awakened his mana.
"Well then."
If his body was this frail, then his talent should be powerful enough to pierce the heavens.
That was only fair.
For some reason, that realization comforted him.
With a faint smirk, Lenok tossed all the introductory books into the library's return bin.
After reading just one, he could already guess what the rest contained.
And with his flawless memory, he had every word burned into his mind.
Now, it was time to move on.
His next targets—
Books on Common Magic and Sinister Spells.
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