The book felt heavy in my palm—not just physically heavy, but filled with a strange kind of weight, the kind that hinted at the existence of another world. Its cover was coarse, like oiled leather, adorned with symbols that made my head itch if I stared at them too long. From its seams, a faint gray mist leaked out, as if its pages contained not merely text, but the breath of some long-forgotten mountain valley.
'Why Murim? Why not just a safe magic sword or some kind of comic-weapon I can use without dealing with the nature of worlds?' I thought, half annoyed, half afraid.
I stared at the system—the blue screen still hovering in front of me—and my voice came out louder than intended. "Hey, System, what does this mean!!"
[Answering… You have obtained an item from the Murim dimension.]
Murim. The word echoed in my head like a gong being struck. The world of wuxia, martial sects, cultivators who command qi, techniques that can slice mountains—not a small thing. If this was truly a Rank A cultivation manual, then it wasn't just a martial guide; it was a roadmap to power capable of disrupting balance.
'Oh God. Why did I get this?' I muttered, holding the book a little tighter. The system's choice felt like a dangerous dice roll—one that could raise me up quickly or draw unwanted attention.
"Yeah, isn't this violating the laws of this world!?" My voice spiked again, more panicked than before. If any deity was monitoring dimensional integrity, I absolutely did not want to be on their radar right now.
[This is not truly a violation.]
The system's answer was short, flat, but carried a strange nuance—as if every boundary I thought was fixed actually had hidden gaps. I waited for a continuation, but the screen only flickered lightly like a half-awake eye.
'Not truly a violation? What is that supposed to mean? Is there a condition? A catch?' My curiosity and suspicion tangled together.
"Explain!" I demanded, because knowing was always better than doing something stupid and becoming a target.
[Answering…]
[Akashic regulates cross-dimensional transfers based on criteria of balance and compatibility. Items from the Murim dimension may be placed in other worlds if they are 'sealed' and compatibility conditions are met. The book you received has undergone an adaptive seal—a dimensional encryption preventing direct conflict with local laws.]
The words flowed slowly, technical but clear. An "adaptive seal." The idea gave me mild relief, yet raised even more questions.
'So the book is safe to use? Or is it some kind of time bomb waiting for a trigger?' I wondered, weighing it. I opened the book slightly—not reading, just peeking—and sensed a thin flow of energy not originating from my own body. There were rules, obviously rules, just not rules made for ordinary humans.
[Continuing…]
[The adaptive seal allows the item to adjust its existential frequency so it does not directly clash with the ontology of the receiving world. However, active use of a cross-dimensional item may create 'resonance' that attracts attention from entities of the original dimension. The magnitude of resonance corresponds to usage intensity and the item's rank.]
The information dropped like a stone into a calm lake—sending long ripples outward. Rank A was no joke; its usage intensity would definitely be high. Resonance… meaning if I eagerly practiced the techniques inside, I might as well light a spotlight in the sky for Murim cults, dimensional guardians, or worse—entities who wouldn't appreciate humans holding their secrets.
'So it's safe to keep, unsafe to flaunt. And dangerous to use recklessly.' That was my summary, and for some reason my heartbeat quickened.
I pressed my lips together, suppressing an inappropriate crooked smile—somewhere between satisfied at acquiring a powerful tool and terrified of its consequences. My best option: hide it, study it slowly, avoid using it in the open. But the adventurous itch inside me whispered: 'If you never try, how will you know?'
[Additional note…]
[This book contains basic training up to early-stage Rank A techniques. To unlock further chapters, Host must meet specific physical and mental prerequisites. The system can assist in monitoring compatibility and reducing resonance risk through the 'Cloak-Anchor' feature if activated.]
'Cloak-Anchor?' I frowned. A feature that could reduce resonance—it almost sounded like an insurance policy from the system. But every insurance always had a cost or consequence.
"What is the consequence of activating Cloak-Anchor?" I asked, because I wasn't about to trade freedom for safety without knowing the price.
[Answering…]
[Activating Cloak-Anchor will bind a small portion of the host's energy to the system as a 'stabilization cost.' Its effect: reducing activation of extra-dimensional abilities to a controlled level that does not trigger major resonance. A small cost at first, but recurring each time an extra-dimensional ability is used.]
As always—there was a price. Small, recurring, but potentially cumulative. I weighed it: money or stamina, life or progress, safety or speed. My choice had to be careful.
I closed the book gently, feeling the resin-sticky corners marking its first page. 'Alright,' I thought. 'One step. One careful step.'
I let the book rest closed in my lap, staring at the simple wooden walls of the hut. Outside, the forest whispered and the night wind brushed the leaves. In my head, tiny plans began to weave: hide the book, study it slowly, attempt basic exercises that wouldn't trigger resonance—use the system to activate Cloak-Anchor if necessary—and most importantly, survive.
But when I opened the first page, my eyes narrowed. The long characters curled like dragon lines, ancient symbols that seemed almost alive and staring right back at me.
'Wait… this…'
"But I don't understand this language. Isn't this all ancient Chinese!?"
Panic slipped into my voice before I could stop it. Not just ancient—it looked like some Murim variant unused for hundreds of years. The shapes of the characters alone made my head hurt.
[Answering… I can assist you in learning the book. Do you desire that? Y/N]
The system displayed the question casually, as if it wasn't offering something as significant as translating interdimensional text.
I exhaled slowly, thinking for a moment. 'Yes, obviously. Otherwise this book is just an expensive ornament.'
"Yes."
The moment the word left my mouth, the book on my lap vibrated softly. The symbols on its cover glowed faintly, then the entire book began to unravel into particles of light—not destroyed, but transforming into fine filaments that immediately circled around my head.
The next second, they sank in.
The sensation… was not pain.
Not comfort either.
More like a cold and hot current at once, slipping beneath my skull, forcing itself inside, opening doors I didn't even know I had.
Information flooded my mind—foreign words becoming familiar, concepts of internal energy, meridian pathways, breathing methods only understandable if you'd reincarnated five times.
Footwork forms.
Stances.
Methods to gather qi.
Ways to force it to flow without tearing the vessels.
All of it poured in, fast, complete… like a river smashing through a fragile dam.
My head lowered. My breath hitched.
'This… insane… this is actually insane.'
When the light finally faded, the book was gone. But its knowledge—vol.1 in full—was etched behind my eyes, as if I had studied it for years.
I lifted my head slowly.