How interesting.....
Back in the present, Rion mused as the recollection ended. His ability, which his original self had aptly named Resonance was considered below average.
Even though he had learnt that 89 nits was a slightly above average level of origin energy, nit being the unit of measurement, he had still been assigned a D-grade rating.
That assessment had probably been made because of how mundane the ability seemed. After all, compared to combat abilities like being able to shoot fireballs or super speed, the ability to temporarily enhance the output of machinery seemed lame.
The limitations of his ability most likely played a big role in the original Rion's decision to avoid the cultivator path. His power only worked with systems reliant on magnetic or electric components, which made it highly situational. While it had its uses, the narrow scope meant it lacked the versatility or impact of other, flashier abilities.
In this world where origin abilities could dictated status and potential, having a talent considered mediocre could be more of a hindrance than a boon. It wasn't hard to see why Rion had chosen to step away from it. Why invest time and effort into mastering something that would always be seen as second-rate?
But to his chuzkah-human hybrid senses, this seemingly mundane ability was the most promising. After all, the most important things to a mechanic were blueprints and energy. And as someone who had previously spent years tinkering with all sorts of machinery, an ability that basically improved their power at seemingly no cost was akin to having master key that opened the doors to innovation.
Even if his ability had the nasty shortcoming of not keeping the changes permanent, who is to say it was always going to be that way? Like instructor Raph said, he had just scratched the surface of what his ability could do.
For the first time in both his lifetimes, Rion felt a glimmer of hope. In his previous world, one's birth largely dictated their status in life, with little opportunity for upward mobility. But now, armed with his original chuzkah memories, he believed success was within his reach if he put in the effort.
This way, despite his Resonance being considered subpar, any improvement in his ability would enhance his proficiency with machinery, giving him a tangible edge in this new world.
Coming from a world that had experienced centuries of technological advancements, he possessed a wealth of intricate knowledge, despite the fact that he had been somewhat at the bottom of the pole. His mind brimmed with information that, combined with his newfound abilities, could prove invaluable in this new life.
Wait a minute though...
As Rion sifted through his human memories, he noticed a curious paradox that defied logic.
The society around him wielded technologies that seemed to leapfrog essential discoveries. Advanced energy storage systems thrived alongside glaring gaps, like the lack of efficient power transmission methods or standardized manufacturing processes. It was as though their advancements had skipped crucial steps, leaving strange holes in their progress.
The contradiction didn't stop there. Their medical achievements were extraordinary, pushing the boundaries of what Rion thought possible. Yet, their knowledge of material science and mechanical engineering lagged behind in ways that seemed almost primitive by comparison.
For all their mastery of the human body, they struggled with basic challenges in creating advanced materials or designing intricate mechanical systems—at least from Rion's perspective as an outsider.
What unsettled him most was their collective acceptance of this imbalance. They didn't question it, treating the state of their technology as an unquestionable fact of life. To Rion, it was a strange blend of progress and stagnation.
As he searched for answers, a hypothesis began to take shape. He suspected that both the unending war against mutated beasts and the influence of origin energy, the force behind cultivator abilities, had distorted their technological development.
The same energy that granted them extraordinary powers to combat the beasts seemed to introduce chaos into their progress. Origin abilities, unpredictable and reality-warping, might have redirected their focus, nudging them toward certain fields while leaving others neglected. In Rion's mind, it was both fascinating and troubling—a world shaped as much by its battles as its breakthroughs.
No wonder my beautiful Resonance was graded so low...
Jokes aside, he considered this a lucky development as he could gain a lot of power early on if he could exercise his future knowledge, employing his technological superiority. Although some things would have to be confirmed, careful application of this knowledge would be his ticket to quickly joining the league of the truly strong in this world.
After all, even though high level cultivators could perform incredible feats, the current society was based on technological superiority.
Based on general knowledge, cultivators had a ranking system from the 1st-tier to the 3rd-tier, and each rank was divided into 4 stages, the Early-stage, Mid-stage, Late-stage and Peak-stage.
1st-tier cultivators were still categorically labeled as human, as they were vulnerable and easily overcome. But once they managed to hit the 2nd-tier and beyond, cultivators garnered the classification of superhuman, signifying a substantial shift in their capabilities.
For reference, during the intense battle where Major Payne obliterated the skull of the mutated beast, his prowess as a 2nd-tier Late-stage stryker was vividly demonstrated. Exhibiting extraordinary strength, he had effortlessly dismantled small buildings in the surrounding area with consecutive punches in order to create safe passage for stranded citizens to escape, all while remaining engaged in combat with the mutated creature. This impressive feat highlighted the impressive level of power generally associated with cultivators at that rank.
The mythical 3rd-tier cultivators on the other hand were a mystery; it was unknown whether they existed or not. There were rumors, of course. Some claimed they were hidden away by governments or organizations, deployed only in the most dire circumstances.
Whatever the truth was, the fact was that the strongest group of cultivators were those in the Peak-stage of the 2nd-tier.
Of course, just like individuals were not the same, the varying strengths among cultivators differed widely. The combat potential of one's ability and how it was leveraged also played a large role. A combat-focused stryker, for instance, held the potential for far greater devastation than an adept with the ability to turn invisible, even if the latter was just as deadly.
However, the number of known Peak-stage 2nd-tier cultivators in the entire world could be counted on both hands, making them a true rarity. It was general knowledge that breakthroughs in stage depended on a whole lot of factors, most unknown.
For every thousand 1st-tier cultivators, perhaps one-third might make it to the Peak-Stage. And of those, only a fraction would ever approach the 2nd tier.
Given the relatively small number of top-level combat assets within the cultivator community, in addition to the reforms by the twelve nations to bridge the differences between cultivators and mundane people, all cultivators, even high ranking ones were still bound by the rules of humanity.
As for the original Rion, since he was content with living as a mundane human, he had chosen not to further develop his abilities and was currently still at the Early-stage of the 1st-tier.
This fact infuriated the current him to no end. In his mind, joining the league of the strong wasn't just a desire; it was a purpose. As he had learned the hard way in his previous world, strength was not just an advantage but a necessity for comfortable living.
He thought of his previous life as a chuzkah—the daily humiliations, the constant struggle for survival in a system designed to keep him and his kind subservient. He had lived everyday knowing that no matter how brilliant his ideas, no matter how hard he worked, he would never truly rise above his station.
Never again...
By some unforeseen circumstances, he had been given a second chance at life. This time, he was determined to seize every opportunity, harnessing his skills to their fullest extent and ensuring that he never again found himself at the mercy of others.
Given that this world had various super-powered entities scattered around, it was a very unwise decision to neglect his newfound abilities.
Since he understood the potential of his Resonance to complement his creations, he resolved to train it meticulously.
As he sat there on the bed, he suddenly furrowed his brows. The subtle feeling of heaviness he had earlier was mostly gone at this point as he began contemplating his plans going forward.
First and foremost, he dismissed any notion of returning to his home world. The circumstances of his arrival in this new world remained a mystery, and even if he could return, there was nothing left for him there.
He thought briefly of the chuzkah colleagues he had left behind—Vetch with his sardonic humor, Meelie and her uncanny ability to salvage useful components from seemingly worthless scrap, old Dorner who had taught him the basics of circuit design. Would they mourn him? Remember him? Or would his absence barely register in their daily struggle for survival?
It didn't matter now. They existed in a world he could never return to, a world where he had already died. This was his reality now. His past life was a closed chapter, and his focus now lay solely on the challenges of this semi-familiar one.
Second was about this world. It had already been established that this world was a highly perilous one, teeming with a diverse array of super powered beings. Despite winning at the genetic pool and awakening his own ability, he knew he was still at the bottom of the hierarchy in terms of strength.
His parents had died due to being in the vicinity when a criminal cultivator was rampaging. They had been caught in the standoff between the criminal and the police, and ended up under a collapsing structure.
Hours later, their bodies were recovered by rescue teams and the official report had called it "unfortunate collateral damage." The cultivator had been apprehended, tried, and executed. Justice had been served, according to the authorities. But to him, it highlighted a fundamental truth:
The strong prey upon the weak.
In order to pursue this ambition, the things he needed the most were a stable source of resources and money. Lots and lots of money. The surest route to this was to leverage his advanced knowledge. With his knowledge, he could build wealth, fame and power at a wide scale.
However, he realized that while he possessed the technical knowledge, he lacked the business acumen needed to navigate the complex economic landscape of this world. He at least understood that building a successful company would require not only innovation but also strategic alliances and careful planning. Additionally, his current weakness made it unlikely that he could protect any business venture from being usurped by more powerful entities.
You can have all the patents in the world, but if a 2nd-tier cultivator backed by corporate interests decides your invention belongs to them... well, good luck taking them to court.
It would also be a very slow process. Establishing a business from scratch would demand countless bureaucratic hurdles, endless negotiations, and constant threats from competitors eager to snatch away his ideas and market share. Progress would be painstakingly incremental, with each step forward fraught with potential setbacks.
He needed resources, protection, and connections—quickly. Starting at the bottom would expose him for too long, make him vulnerable during his weakest phase. But how to accelerate the process without revealing too much about his unique advantages?
Based on his unique circumstances, in order to quickly improve his standing in this world, there were two viable paths that he could take. The first was to somehow join a guild, a very straightforward approach.
With his advanced knowledge, joining a guild, a structured environment where he could contribute his skills and expertise, gaining stability, acceptance and support in return seemed like the more conventional choice. However, this choice would bind him to the guild's structure, obliging him to undertake missions for resources.
According to what he knew about guilds, they operated on a mission-based system, and members were obligated to complete assignments to earn resources. On the upside, being part of a guild could provide a network of connections, training opportunities, and access to valuable resources.
Although a small challenge lay in concealing the extraordinary depth of his knowledge, he could create a persona that aligned with a skilled, but not overly exceptional, gadgeteer.
He would need to develop a plausible learning curve, "discovering" innovations at a pace that wouldn't raise eyebrows. Too fast, and questions would arise about the source of his insights. Too slow, and he would waste valuable time underperforming his true capabilities. Striking the right balance between demonstrating his skillset and maintaining a low profile would be essential to avoid drawing undue attention or suspicion from his peers and superiors within the guild.
However, the downside of this plan was that he would be bound by the guild's rules and would lose a lot of freedom. The unpredictability of guild politics and potential power struggles also made him wary. He questioned whether the safety and stability offered by guild membership were worth the sacrifice of his autonomy.
As he pondered this option, images of his past experiences flashed before his eyes. The rigid structure, and the feeling of being at the mercy of others—it all felt too familiar. The mere thought of trading one set of constraints for another left him unsettled.
Also, other potential risks lurked in the shadows. A guild was a melting point for cultivatkrs with a sorts of abilities. Some adepts might awaken abilities related to mental or emotional perception—not mind readers per se, but the ability to detect dishonesty or unusual mental patterns.
Would they sense the foreign nature of his consciousness? The memories that didn't quite match his supposed experiences? The advanced knowledge that no seventeen year old D-grade cultivator should possess? He also didn't know what higher rank cultivators were capable of. Constant contact with them within the guild might lead them to uncovering the unusual nature of his being, jeopardizing his safety.
Joining a guild is a no-no for now, at least until I am stronger and can verify how they are internally structured. Won't be too late to reconsider then.
As for the alternative, well it involved selling his services as a private arms dealer to organizations, criminal organizations to be precise.