[The next morning]
Beom Seok's eyelids fluttered open, the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room stabbing at his senses. For a moment, he froze, disoriented.
The sterile smell of antiseptic filled his nose, and the white walls seemed impossibly bright. He tried to recall the events from the day before, but his memory felt fragmented—like trying to grasp smoke with bare hands.
"My memory… it's a mess," he muttered, rubbing his temples. Every detail of defeating the fallen divine snake eluded him, slipping away the harder he tried to hold on.
Then, a cold, digital voice pierced the haze.
Beom Seok's brow furrowed. "Level ten? Nine levels… at once?" He leaned back against the pillow, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. A smile tugged at his lips despite the confusion.
He tapped the system window to check his status, eyes scanning the familiar interface.
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Available distribution points: 4
Coin: 1000
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Beom Seok exhaled slowly, a mix of satisfaction and bewilderment washing over him. "So… that's why I feel… different." His fingers hovered over the screen as he clicked the system shop button.
A blinding cascade of items appeared, stretching infinitely in all directions. Legendary swords, enchanted armor, bizarre potions that glimmered unnaturally, and mysterious artifacts—none of which he had ever heard of—filled the virtual shelves. Beom Seok scrolled through, eyes widening as he noted the price tags.
"1 million gold coins… 10 million… what kind of joke is this?" He leaned back in the bed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Even with his newly acquired coins, he wouldn't be able to afford so much as a basic item. Shaking his head, he closed the system window, deciding it could wait.
Beom Seok stretched his arms, the muscles in his body feeling taut yet invigorated from his rapid growth. As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, a sudden commotion outside caught his attention. Voices shouting, cameras clicking, and the unmistakable murmur of a crowd.
Curious, he shuffled over to the window and drew the curtain aside.
A sea of people sprawled across the hospital grounds. Photographers pushed cameras toward the sky, reporters shouted questions at anyone who would listen, and a few had even brought tents, as if planning to camp out indefinitely.
"This… this is madness," Beom Seok muttered, his heart starting to pound. Then, his eyes locked on the moment that would seal his disbelief—paparazzi spotting him at the window.
The shutters clicked relentlessly, the lens flashes assaulting his vision. Questions shouted at him from all angles, incomprehensible in their urgency.
Beom Seok recoiled, stepping back. His mind raced.
"Are… are those people here for me?" he whispered, disbelief written across his face. The realization settled like ice in his stomach—he hadn't just cleared a dungeon. He had made the world notice him, and the world wasn't about to look away.
For the first time since arriving in this new reality, Beom Seok understood: survival wasn't just about power anymore. It was about attention, reputation, and being ready for everything that fame—and danger—would bring.