The smell of burnt toast shouldn't have made a grown man cry.
Andrew Cho sat frozen at the small, chipped wooden table of his studio apartment. The morning sun poked through a layer of city smog, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Across from him, a small boy with messy black hair was struggling to spread jam on a piece of charred bread.
"Uncle Andy? You're staring again," Min-ho said, his voice high and sweet—a sound Andrew had only heard in nightmares for the last ten years.
Andrew didn't speak. He couldn't. The last thing he remembered was the icy wind of the Frozen Tundra Raid, the searing pain of a dagger between his ribs, and the mocking laughter of Park Jisung—the man he had called his brother. He remembered the blood pooling in the snow and the agonizing realization that with his death, there would be no one left to protect this boy from the "accidents" the guild would surely arrange.
But here he was. His hands weren't calloused by a decade of sword-grips. His chest didn't ache with old scars.
"I'm just... happy to see you, Min-ho," Andrew finally managed, his voice raspy.
"You're weird today," Min-ho giggled, shoving the toast into his mouth. "Are you still going to that game thing? The one with the big eggs?"
The capsules. Today was the day. October 12th. The global launch of Mythos Online. In his past life, Andrew had entered the game three months late, forever playing catch-up, forever a servant to the "Great Guilds."
Not today.
The Gates of Mythos
An hour later, after dropping Min-ho off at daycare with a hug so tight the boy complained of being "squished," Andrew stood before the sleek, coffin-like VR capsule in the corner of his room. It was a first-generation model, clunky and expensive, bought with the last of his sister's life insurance.
The virtual reality capsule hissed as it sealed, the familiar scent of ozone filling Andrew's lungs. In his past life, this moment was filled with desperate hope—a way to escape poverty. Now, it was a declaration of war.
"Link Start," he whispered.
The world dissolved into a blinding kaleidoscope of data. Usually, the transition to Mythos Online was a smooth slide into a fantasy landscape. But as Andrew's consciousness hit the server, his soul—heavy with the weight of a decade of slaughter and the residual energy of the Time Relic—collided with the system's architecture.
[System Error: Fatal Discrepancy Detected]
[User Identity: Andrew Cho]
[Status: Deceased / Non-Existent / Present]
The black void of the character creation room flickered. A golden interface struggled to stabilize in front of him.
"Welcome, Traveler," a hollow, mechanical voice echoed. "Your soul has been scanned. Determining Talent based on innate potential..."
Andrew gritted his teeth. In the past, he had prayed for something good and received [F-Rank: Basic Stamina]. It was the trash talent that forced him to work twice as hard just to stay alive.
"Scanning... Potential is... Infinite? Error. Re-calculating."
The interface turned a violent shade of crimson. The system was trying to categorize a man who had already reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship and returned.
"Talent found: [C-Rank: Magic Circuit Sensitivity]."
"Not this time," Andrew hissed, reaching out and literally grabbing the holographic text. His hands glowed with the faint, blue light of the regression. "I didn't come back to be a battery for other players."
He forced his "will" into the code, imagining the faces of the teammates who had stabbed him. He thought of his nephew, Min-ho, sleeping in the next room—the only thing in two lifetimes worth saving.
The system shrieked.
[Forced Evolution Initiated!]
[Dual Talent Manifesting...]
Talent 1: [King's Hindsight (Rank: ???)]
Description: The user possesses memories of a future that has not yet occurred. All "Hidden Pieces," enemy weaknesses, and world events are visible to the user.
Effect: +500% Experience Gain from First-Discovery quests.
Talent 2: [Aegis of the Bloodline (Rank: SSS)]
Description: A protective shield fueled by the user's desire to guard their kin.
Effect: 10% of all in-game damage dealt is converted into "Reality Points," which can be used to manifest game-stats or protective barriers in the physical world.
The mechanical voice sounded distorted, almost fearful. "Talents assigned. Please select your starting Class."
A list of standard classes appeared: Warrior, Mage, Rogue, Archer.
Andrew didn't look at them. Instead, he turned his back on the menu and walked toward the corner of the void where the shadows seemed deepest. He knew a secret the developers had buried—a glitch in the tutorial.
He struck the empty air with a precise palm strike. The "wall" of the character room cracked like glass.
"I'm not here to play your game," Andrew said, his voice cold. "I'm here to rewrite it."
Behind the crack was a flickering, white flame—the [Original Spark]. By touching it before selecting a class, he bypassed the standard progression entirely.
[Secret Condition Met: The Path of the Lone Guardian]
[Hidden Hybrid Class Obtained: Spatial Aegis-Blade]
"Would you like to enter the world as 'Andrew'?"
"No," he said, thinking of the sanctuary he would build. "Enter as Paladin."
The white light swallowed him whole.