[Name: Sultan]
[race: human(G0)]
[Integer: 0 (9 out of 100)]
[Prizes: none]
[Medals: none]
[Special attributes ]
[Chooser, Nine-born, touched by 0.]
[General attributes:]
[Force: 0]
[]agility: 0
[Constitution: 0]
[Cognition: 0]
[Will: 0]
[Noumenon number:]
[The perfect nine]
[Number traits:]
[Positive trait: the perfect cut.]
[Negative trait: shield of belief.]
[Soul: Parting edge]
[Soul state: awakened]
[Soul grade: 0]
[Soul rank: eternal ]
[Soul trait: living blade]
for the hundredth time, Sultan had read the ethereal, glimmering symbols, and For the umpteenth time, they never failed to amaze him or grow old.
He should be used to glowing screens appearing in front of his eyes by now, shouldn't he?
Yet it was a completely novel experience.
To begin with, Sultan had just acquired RLISYS only two days ago, yet even if he had it for years, it wouldn't have changed a thing.
Because simply, comparing RLISYS's experience to the one provided by the Host, as the Citizens called it, was like comparing the light of a small flickering candle to a blazing, blinding sun.
For once, while the interface of RLISYS is quite realistic, it is still unmistakably artificial. much like how a painting would appear artificial when placed next to real imagery.
The Host's interface, meanwhile, gave the impression of being a fundamental part of the world. It felt as though it had always been there, with Sultan merely being gently guided to notice it whenever he said status.
Second, whenever Sultan mentally recalled RLISYS, a blue, squarish portal would dominate most of his vision, obscuring his ability to perceive anything else.
In contrast, the Host's interface appeared without clear boundaries. Its symbols seemed to write themselves in mid-air, as if they subtly bent the surrounding reality to exist there. Unlike RLISYS, it didn't obscure anything; instead, it seemed to create more space for itself to manifest, no matter how crazy that might sound.
And all of that is just scratching the surface.
"Because what those symbols convey was another mind-boggling aspect entirely on its own."
And he was not even referring to the fact that, despite never having seen them once in his life, he could inexplicably comprehend each and every one of them.
Sultan, of course, had no idea what most of this status represents. For instance, he doesn't fully grasp what the part labeled "integer" conveys. Sultan understands that an integer refers to whole numbers without fractions, but what does it mean for it to be zero? Is it better for the number to be larger or smaller?
Some other sections, however, are easier to deduce. The attributes section, for example.
The Citizen claimed that any increase in those, particularly the general ones, would result in a noticeable improvement in his physical abilities.
Finally, the most inconceivable of them all, traits.
Upon asking the Citizen about them, the reply was outlandish, to say the least.
They stated that, much like his body has inherent physical characteristics from birth, his soul similarly carries distinct Traits, which had simply been inactive until the Host helped to awaken them.
Focusing on the last part, the symbols squirmed and wiggled like worms in the air, then shifted to view the next:
Soul trait: living blade.
Your soul is cursed by being a living blade, and any blade in your hand is blissed by living.
"so… you're alive, buddy?" Sultan Said, throwing the knife in his hand into the air and then catching it, an astonishing feat, if he says so himself, given how dark it is.
'what nonsense?'
Still…, deep down, Sultan can't refute what the Host has declared. Since waking from that strange dream, he had had a gut feeling that his knife is somehow different. Not that it started talking to him or moving on its own.
No, the oddity was much subtler.
Sultan had found himself, more than once, forgetting he's even holding the knife, taking its presence in his hand for granted as though he was born attached to it. Even more unsettling, when he focused directly on it, he got the scary sensation that he can't tell where his fingers end and where the knife's body begins.
**"And then there was still that perfect number with its positive and negative traits.
Positive trait: perfect cut.
You wield the power of absolute separation.
Nothing is between the sides of your blade.
Negative trait: Shield of Belief.
Only belief can shield the world from your wicked cut. For you, it is the fire that burns yet formless for you to sever, the rust that dols your blade, And the weight you find hardest to bear.
Sultan hadn't asked the Citizen about those ones.
Why should he?
The Psycho, after all, didn't seem capable of viewing his status, despite their RLISYS connection.
And The best Sultan could describe the Citizen was that they are far from trustworthy.
So, it would be exceptionally foolish to reveal every piece of information to them. Even though Sultan had no way to discern what's important and what's not, the perfect number was just one of the parts he skipped when reading his status per the Citizen's request.
The gears in Sultan's mind churned and turned in overdrive as he navigated through the gloomy, chilly passages. Deductions and assumptions clashed against each other, proving one another in a moment, rejecting the next. Plans were formed, discarded, and then resurfaced, only to be remade again.
Sultan calculated his next steps carefully, reflecting on how all of this would shape his life moving forward.
He remained trudging in this state for about an hour, only emerging from his trance when a intimate, fizzy sound grated on the edge of his hearing.
This time, however, he didn't put his tail between his legs. Instead, Sultan stood rooted in place, playing the fool.
Slowly, the buzzing advanced on his location bit by bit, yet he wasn't fazed in the slightest, valiantly waiting for his enemies to approach.
Shortly after, they reached him.
a group of five or six bees hovering directly in front of his face. Sultan... didn't dare to move an inch or even breathe a single drop of air.
They remained like this for a while before the insects resumed their progress, seemingly oblivious to Sultan's presence.
Sultan gasped, greedily sucking air into his lungs as the buzzing sound grew distant.
'this time was longer than usual'
'is it wearing of?'
Sultan had found a simple, sticky way to shield himself from the creatures' detection.
It was all thanks to the last harrowing encounter with the horrible insects.
Stumbling into the honey chamber had proven to be simultaneously a curse and a blessing.
A curse, because he still suffered from the parting gift of the hateful creature that had managed to wound him.
'Couldn't the bug just die without making a fuss about it'"
Alas, he couldn't ask for too much.
Truthfully, Sultan had gotten the better end of their exchange, not just for surviving while the small beast has perished.
Because As luck would have it, having chosen to hide in there was also a blessing in disguise. Not only did the honey feed him and provide the chance for some much-needed rest to continue his journey, it also offered a way to evade the watchful eyes of the enormous bees.
Since this deadly and cruel ordeal began, Sultan said more than once that he would pay a limb to decipher the way by which the wrathful bugs always managed to detect him.
He had no wings to buzz, after all.
and no matter how cautious or sneaky he was, they always seemed to track him down effortlessly.
In the end, Sultan got exactly what he bargained for in the form of the honey, which had rendered his left hand mostly useless to obtain.
After taking the risk and performing some dangerous trials, Sultan learned that they never needed to see or hear him to distinguish his present. Instead, they relied on the heat radiating from his body.
The odious things perceived their bray through heat vision.
And here comes the role of The honey, bless those murderous bees who made it. Sultan discovered that the sticky substance possessed a unique quality: it could highly reduce the heat emanating from living bodies.
That's why he had adopted an unusual approach to disguise himself. He coated himself from head to toe in the sticky, sweet-smelling honey.
And Whenever he caught the faint sound of buzzing in the distance, Sultan would blend into the wall, motionless, playing the part of a lifeless surface.
Each time, the oblivious creature would pass him by, none the wiser to his presence.
Except this last time, they lingered before him far more than they should have.
Sultan presumed that is because the potency of his cover had started to subside, resulting in a leakage of heat from his body.
Oddly enough, upon realizing that, he wasn't worried in the slightest. On the contrary, he strode with great vigor, humming a joyful melody all the while.
The reason, Sultan was on the verge of reaching his home.