The translucent blue interface glowed softly against the dark, smoke-filled background of the ruined Gwangbuku street. Minsoo was still tentatively tapping the air in front of her face, her fingers passing right through the light as she tried to comprehend the physical reality of a digital projection that only her own eyes could see.
"Oppa, my screen says my strength is only 3," she whispered, her voice tight with a rising wave of anxiety. "And it says my class is 'Civilian'. Is that bad? What are your numbers? Are they higher than mine?"
"Don't worry about the baseline numbers right now," I told her, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on my own floating screen. "The system scales human parameters based on your physical condition prior to initialization. Since we were medical students and spent most of our time sitting at desks, cramming for exams, or standing in quiet labs, our physical baselines are naturally low. The world didn't expect us to fight. But the past doesn't matter anymore. The important part is how we deal with what we have."
I looked down at the bottom of my screen, where the number jumped out at me.
[Unused Stat Points: 20]
In my previous life, the moment anyone saw unallocated points, they immediately dumped them into whatever stat made them feel safer. I had done the exact same thing back then—panicking and spreading my points evenly across all parameters just to make the numbers go up. It was a classic beginner's trap.
This time, I didn't touch them. I deliberately closed the allocation sub-menu, leaving the full pool of 20 points completely untouched.
Holding onto unallocated stat points was a high-level strategy that very few understood during the early days of the Tutorial. In the System, allocating points caused an instant biological reset—it could forcibly mend torn muscles, flush out fatigue, and provide a sudden burst of adrenaline mid-combat. More importantly, certain hidden classes and legendary-grade items required very specific, exact stat thresholds to unlock or equip. If I spent these points now on raw power, I might fall short of the strict requirements needed to claim the prize
Holding onto unallocated stat points was a high-level strategy that very few understood during the early days of the Tutorial. In the System, allocating points caused an instant biological reset—it could forcibly mend torn muscles, flush out fatigue, and provide a sudden burst of adrenaline mid-combat. More importantly, certain hidden classes and legendary-grade items required very specific, exact stat thresholds to unlock or equip. If I spent these points now on raw power, I might fall short of the strict requirements needed to claim the prize ahead.
As I stared at the blinking notification, memories from my past life flooded my mind. I remembered the exact details of the hidden item waiting at the central plaza. It was called the Dragon's Eyes.
In its base form, it actually spawned as a meager D-Rank item. On paper, most high-level players in the future would have overlooked it based on that initial rank alone. But they didn't know its secret. The Dragon's Eyes was a rare, highly coveted Evolution-Type item. It possessed the terrifying ability to break past its natural limits, but to unlock its true, legendary potential, the user had to force the item to absorb the remnants of incredibly strong monsters.
The fake Hero had fed it constantly in the old timeline, turning it into a divine artifact that granted him absolute authority over battlefield perception.
A D-Rank item that can grow to challenge the gods, I thought, a thrill of anticipation running through my veins. I need to save every single stat point until I have it in my possession, just in case its baseline attunement requires a specific distribution.
"Listen to me carefully, Minsoo," I said
turning my gaze to her trembling form, shaking off the memory. "You should have received 4 stat points for surviving the first wave and assisting with those kills. Open your window. Put all 4 of them directly into Agility."
"Agility? Not Strength?" She tilted her head, confused. "If more monsters come, shouldn't I try to hit them harder?"
"Strength won't matter if you aren't fast enough to dodge a ghoul's bite," I explained, scanning the dark shadows stretching beneath the shattered storefronts. "In the first week of the Tutorial, evasion is your best defense. If a monster grabs hold of you, raw strength won't save you from a pack infection or being dragged to the ground. Speed
will keep you out of their reach. It will keep you alive. Do it now."
She swallowed hard and nodded hesitantly. Her fingers moved through the air, tapping the translucent interface as she confirmed the command. A sharp breath escaped her lips a second later as her body adjusted to the sudden neurological enhancement.
"Wow," she murmured, shifting her footing on the glass-strewn pavement. "My legs... they feel entirely different. Lighter. Like I could sprint down the whole block without getting tired."
Good. Keep that iron bar ready and stay focused. The system doesn't give players a long grace period during these forty days. The next wave will be harder."
I turned my head toward the north transit plaza. The air coming from that direction was growing perceptibly colder, a distinct, suffocating pressure building in the atmosphere that normal human senses wouldn't notice until it was too late. Even without upgrading my Aura yet, my twenty years of ingrained combat instincts could easily recognize the shifting density of mana in the air.
The fake Hero would be arriving at that plaza within the hour, guided by his own panic and the general flow of fleeing citizens trying to escape the narrow alleyways. If I wanted to claim the Dragon's Eyes before he could ever lay a finger on them, I needed to reach the core coordinates before the crowd turned that intersection into a chaotic war zone.
"Where are we going now, Oppa?" Minsoo asked, stepping over the ashes of a dissolved ghoul to stay close my shoulder.
"The central transit plaza," I said, my gaze locked onto the dark horizon of Gwangbuku as I tightened my grip on the steel bar. "We have an appointment to steal a miracle."