Intercontinental Sea — Somewhere in the ocean
Narval vessel, halted
The Narval had stopped.The silence was absolute, barely broken by the metallic creak of the vessel and the murmur of the ocean.In the end, I decided to gamble on going out. To gamble, once again, with my life.
Not before searching for specialized underwater combat weapons around the Narval.
After all, I was now just a level 9 NPC. About to face monsters and marine creatures that surely had levels higher than mine.
I finally found something inside the technical compartment: I grabbed a weapon similar to an underwater shotgun, with such an advanced design that I didn't even know how to use it or how to load it.
I had to ask Gideon for a quick instruction, and he explained how to remove the safety.Nothing more. Enough not to die in the first thirty seconds.
That was when I activated a basic skill and left the vessel.
The darkness was crushing.
Everything was so dark it instilled fear in me.
The cold water bit into every muscle.
I felt I could no longer move like I did in Atlantis.
I no longer moved with the same lightness as before.
I was witnessing how important stats are for movement—but now my reduced stats were a tangible curse.
But thanks to Transcendental Eyes, my vision adapted to the blackness, revealing shadows moving around me.
And at first glance, I saw just how many creatures were lurking in the distance.
Enormous creatures. Glowing eyes. Jaws flashing with curved teeth.The ocean... was watching me.
That was when I thought of Gideon as a contingency plan. If he controlled the Narval, he could not only protect me but also illuminate my surroundings.
—Gideon —I murmured—, activate the floodlights.
The Narval's light pierced the gloom, and dozens of colossal shapes fled into the bubbles and darkness.
Many fish fled, far larger than me.
My breathing grew uneven. I was nervous as the silence returned, but instinct kept screaming danger.
I felt hunger was killing me. Every fish that crossed my path was a temptation.
If it was close enough, I aimed and fired.
But because of my desperation, I always missed.
The recoil of the weapon propelled me backward each time.
Due to the immense force the weapon exerted on my weak body. Like I was a ragdoll.
My desperation and hunger clouded my judgment.
I was close to losing my mind.
Until I finally managed to hit a gigantic fish. A massive beast, almost translucent, bleeding from the enormous wound I had inflicted.
It bled out quickly, and I began swimming toward the corpse before it sank into the abyss.
I didn't think.
I didn't reason.
I didn't question.
I was truly desperate to eat.
And without thinking twice, I proceeded to devour it raw.
I felt my taste buds savor the texture of the flesh.
I was completely focused on eating with desperation.
My mind shut down, my body took control, and for a moment, one of the last thoughts that crossed my mind was that I was going to die devouring cold, salted flesh.
And then, like lightning, I remembered.
20 years ago
New Orleans, on Brandom Murphy's property
The Louisiana sun fell like lead over the mansion's backyard. The place was immense: immaculate grass, magnolias holding their warm scent in the air, and a small white gazebo where a guitar and two glasses of lemonade rested.
A few meters away, over a patch of bare earth left specifically for training, Brian panted with his hands on his knees, his body trembling. Bramdon stood in front of him, arms crossed, linen shirt open at the chest.
He stood firm, arms crossed, stern but never cruel gaze. Breathing with an impossible calm for someone his age.
Bramdon Murphy:—"Move forward, move forward!... Nothing shapes a man more than pain. Move forward, Brian!" —his voice rang out deep, firm, without a trace of doubt.
Brian took a step. Hesitated. Took another. Finally collapsed to his knees, panting as if he had carried the entire world.
—Old man... I can't anymore —he let out, with a mix of shame and desperation.
Bramdon crouched down to his level. His blue eyes, darkened by years of loss, watched him without wavering.
Bramdon Murphy:—"Look at me, son, look at me... No one can help you, because no one understands your chaos better than you do."
Brian clenched his fists against the dirt. His jaw trembled.
—But grandpa, I'm only five years old! —he shouted, and for a moment his voice broke.
The old man didn't look away; he didn't shield him from reality. But he didn't abandon him in it either.
Bramdon Murphy: —"You are a genius. You learned to speak before turning one, didn't you? You learned what life is when you lost your friend at three... Don't you remember your actions from a week ago?"
The child swallowed.
—Please... don't remind me. I don't want to remember Spike —he whispered.
Bramdon Murphy: —"Brian, look at me... I know I'm being extreme with you, I know it hurts... But the talent you have, without discipline, without strict codes, and without clarity, can destroy you."
Brian shook his head.
—But Dr. Lin said she can help me —the child objected, searching for an anchor.
Bramdon inhaled deeply, like someone preparing for a harsh truth.
Bramdon Murphy: —"Child, you must understand... the gifted cannot receive normal therapy, because they are not common." —He placed a large hand on the small shoulder—"So listen to me: your childhood hasn't been easy as it is, so you must learn to metabolize pain."
Brian closed his eyes. He tried to hold back a sob. Failed.
—I can't.
Bramdon Murphy: —"Of course you can! You are a Murphy.You are my great-grandson. Just focus."
A thick silence followed.
Then Brian nodded, with the fragile but genuine determination of a child who decides to grow too soon.
—Alright... I'll do it.
The old man smiled, just a slight curve of pride barely crossing Bramdon's face:
Bramdon Murphy: —"Good" —he said, standing up—. "We'll begin guitar lessons."
Brian wiped sweat from his forearm, then looked at him with sincere doubt.
—Old man... can I ask you something?
Bramdon Murphy: —Of course.
—Why do you try so hard with me?
The wind gently stirred the magnolia branches. For the first time, the old man didn't respond immediately.
He looked toward the interior of the mansion, where in a corner stood the family photographs, worn, showing lives that were no longer there.
When he looked back at the boy, his voice was lower, more human:
Bramdon Murphy: —"Because you are my family... and because of what I see in you, Brian...2 —he placed his hand on the boy's chest—. "Life is long, and nothing in it returns as often as pain. I want you to be a man in the midst of affliction."
—Why?
Bramdon Murphy: —"Because a human who has never suffered cannot be empathetic without being false. But one who knows pain can see both darkness and light... and still choose the light. That is the kind of man you must become."
The boy lowered his gaze, thoughtful.
Chewing on the idea with more maturity than he should have:
—Then... what is God to you, grandpa?
Bramdon exhaled, not like a religious man, but like someone who had thought that answer a thousand times:
Bramdon Murphy: —"He is the being who suffers the most, yet has the power not to..." —he locked eyes with Brian—. "He is more human than us, because we become corrupted. He is Good, and good does not change. That is why Scripture says He is Holy."
Brian raised an eyebrow and frowned with slight childish annoyance.
—Again with those dogmas?
Bramdon smiled with that tired gesture of his, a mix of patience and wisdom:
Bramdon Murphy: —"It's not about dogma" —the old man corrected—. "It's about honesty, intellectual humility, and common sense... If you are honest, you will seek the truth. If you are humble, you accept that you cannot explain everything. And if you have common sense, you won't be easily deceived."
He gave him two light pats on the shoulder.
Bramdon Murphy: —"Enough questions. Let's go to the gazebo. The guitar is waiting for us."
The boy followed him in silence.
He just took a deep breath, looked at the dirt path, and took another step.
Firmer than the last.
And as the sun went down,
the summer of New Orleans saw the birth of a man, but also the fading sparks of the little childhood he had left—
and that, in a fewyears,
he would never recover.
Back to the present:
Brian ignored the fact that the Brundiak's blood was attracting the attention of other marine predators, far more dangerous than he could imagine.
I ate until my hunger was satisfied.
The last metallic taste I felt was what brought me back to reality.I had devoured the entire body of the fish. Organs, blood, everything.
But when my senses and reasoning returned—
I looked around. I was in the middle of a dark and unknown ocean.
I forced myself to breathe.
I remembered the old man.I remembered what he used to say.
"Face life with the only thing you control—your attitude... because the best or worst of it cannot be controlled or predicted."
Remembering his words made me realize I had behaved like a damn beast.
Disgusted with myself, but puzzled because I felt no stomach pain.
I asked Quincy about it:
—Quincy —I murmured—, why didn't my body reject the raw meat?
[Haa (눈‸눈)... Master, the basic skill «Dimensional Adaptation» allows you to survive... just now you were in a situation where if you didn't eat, you would collapse. Although I must clarify that you will feel it once the skill deactivates.]
—Understood. —I swallowed—. Thank you.
I began swimming back to the Narval.
Then, in front of me, something moved:a small squid, about the size of my forearm.
It swam before me, almost in a peaceful manner.
In fact, it looked harmless, floating in the current, its skin bioluminescent.
Its status window read:[Devir Squid – Level 54]
Fifty-four.And me, a level nine NPC.
But it looked so... calm and vulnerable.
That I wanted to pet it.
I extended my hand to touch it.
The mistake was immediate.
It lunged at me.
The creature targeted my face.
Its tentacles clung tightly, covering my vision.
I saw how its suckers tore the skin of my cheeks.
While I felt its beak shredding my nose.The pain was unbearable.
I tried to scream, but my voice couldn't escape.
Quickly, I grabbed the shotgun, turned it toward my own face, and fired.The impact threw me backward.The squid exploded. I had killed it.
But its tentacles remained clinging to my face.
So I had to rip them off, even if it disfigured me further.
I screamed from the indescribable pain.
I saw my blood pouring from my face.
But now it was red, completely human.
It was the final blow of reality.
And I understood; my blue blood had been the result of the ridiculous amounts of mana in my body.
I checked my status window.
I looked at my vitality bar: 580/1080 HP.
This was the final nail in the coffin of reality.
In my current state, I was no longer a match for high-level enemies.
But above all... I was no match for anything.Every creature in this ocean could kill me.
I no longer had the luxury of underestimating any level above mine.
That meant I could die at any moment if I wasn't careful from now on.
I decided to swim back to the Narval faster, out of fear of dying.
I wanted to avoid any other danger, but—
My pupils dilated in terror.
A damn school of those damn squids was approaching from below.
I swam with more desperation.
But one of them latched onto my leg.Its suckers tore into me, its beak shredding me.
The pain I felt was extreme.
Even so, I tried to reach the Narval with more determination.
I didn't want to die in such a pathetic way.
It was then, in my desperation and fear of dying, that I shouted:
—Gideon, do something!!
The Narval opened fire; energy projectiles tore through the water like blue lightning.I managed to free my leg by firing point-blank, but the damage kept accumulating.With what little I had left, I swam to the vessel.I entered gasping, trembling, bleeding.Alive. Barely.
I had managed to survive that terrifying experience.
Gideon, controlling the vessel, managed to collect the corpses of those water demons.
Once inside the ship, I ran looking for a mirror. I truly feared I had been disfigured by the attack of those beasts.
When I finally found one, to assess the extent of my injuries—
I witnessed something incredible.
My wounds were regenerating. Slowly, but clearly healing on their own.
I stared, fascinated.
—This... —I whispered—. This isn't normal.
I was genuinely amazed.
"How is this phenomenon possible?"
That was when I remembered I was still using and receiving the effect of the basic skill «Dimensional Adaptation».
Once the wounds on my face healed,
I finally checked how long I had used the basic skill, and it was a surprising 40 minutes in total.
When I deactivated it, I already knew what was coming.
[Master, I advise you to proceed to eat something again, so your vitality increases and the effects of the penalty won't affect you as much.]
I took a deep breath and asked Quincy:
—Can I recover HP by eating?
And before she answered, my mind drifted:
"At that moment I had the appearance of a child... But I was no longer a child."
"Not even this body belongs to me. And still, I have no childhood."
"The ocean and this damn world... are they trying to teach me another lesson?"