The mont the information on the technique flowed into Logan’s mind, the system echoed with a soft chi.
[Ding! Detected an origin technique. Do you wish to proceed to absorb knowledge fragnts?]
Without hesitation, he nodded.
Instantly, a flash of green light surfaced atop the crystal, brief and sharp.
Following which, the cracks on the crystal deepened.
Once the cracks spread through the entire crystal and it shattered, the technique would be lost, and one would have to input the knowledge of the technique into another origin crystal.
Shifting his attention to the system, Logan was briefly stunned.
[Spatial Telekenisis (incomplete): By studying the unique properties of the telekenisis origin ability, a mysterious Expert was able to create this technique.]
Logan’s gaze paused on the word ’incomplete’.
’Astra? What’s that about? In the novel, based on what I’d written, the technique showed no traces of being incomplete.’
Astra’s reply ca almost imdiately.
[Based on the System’s database, the information provided is correct.]
Logan frowned.
Not only was it incomplete...
But he didn’t write anything about a mysterious expert comprehending it from studying another origin warrior’s technique.
’What’s going on? It’s almost like this is... a world of its own, where everything has its own backstories and...’ Logan’s thoughts trailed off as he shook his head sharply.
That couldn’t be possible.
This was a novel. He had written it. It couldn’t be a real world.
Running a hand through his hair, knowing he wouldn’t reach any answers anyti soon, Logan pushed the thought aside and refocused on the technique that had flowed into his mind.
Normally, those with telekenisis Origin abilities used sheer willpower to control objects, forcing them to move as they pleased.
However, his was different.
By creating a ’spatial field’ around objects, he could move them freely, guiding them to any location he desired without relying on constant ntal strain.
’This is truly...’ Logan was stunned by how effective the technique was.
He read through the information again, slower this ti. Then he closed his eyes, took a steady breath, and opened them.
This ti, his gaze was calm. Focused. Resolute.
Logan glanced toward the table where the television remote rested and began to move his origin energy.
At the Origin Initiate rank, his energy reserves were limited. At best, he could sustain usage for only a few minutes.
He willed it gently.
It flowed out from his body in thin, invisible threads.
Nothing seed to happen at first, but his origin energy slipped silently through the air, gradually taking on faint spatial attributes.
Origin energy was the fuel that sustained every origin ability.
As it extended outward, Logan felt the remote enter his perception.
Slowly, he shifted his thoughts, careful, deliberate.
The remote twitched.
Then moved.
A thin line of sweat ford along his brow. This wasn’t easy.
He adjusted again, refining the flow.
The remote slid to the side.
Then further.
Feeling a slight grasp over the technique, he adjusted the structure of his origin energy, tightening the spatial field.
The remote lifted.
It hovered.
Then began to move smoothly through the air.
’It’s just like having telekinisis!’ Logan exclaid internally, a faint smile forming.
He guided it again. Then again.
Soon, he was playing with it, weaving it through the parlour, letting it glide, turn, and shift in controlled arcs.
After so ti, he stopped.
That was enough for a first test.
Next ca precision.
Logan focused, narrowing his control, directing the remote toward the buttons.
It was clumsy at first.
His control slipped. The remote jerked.
But gradually, he adapted.
Minute adjustnts. Fine control.
Eventually, he managed to press a button.
Then another.
After that, he moved on to the next phase.
Multiple objects.
An hour passed in a blur.
By the end of it, Logan felt his control weaken. His origin energy thinned, destabilizing.
Then it collapsed.
The remote dropped, hitting the ground with a sharp clatter. A crack split across its surface.
Logan’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he realized he had completely exhausted his origin energy.
’I don’t have any origin stones... so I can only recover by absorbing the ambient origin energy in the air.’
A bitter smile touched his lips.
Still, without hesitation, he sat down, crossing his legs, and entered a ditative state.
He focused.
Slowly, he began drawing in the faint origin energy scattered through the air.
It took over two hours.
By the ti his origin core could no longer absorb any more, Logan opened his eyes.
Clear again.
Ready.
It was ti to continue.
The day passed in this rhythm.
Train. Exhaust. Recover. Repeat.
Logan had nothing else to hold onto, so he threw himself entirely into it.
The sa would have continued into the night.
But the mont the sun dipped below the horizon, and the moon hung cold and distant in the sky, Astra’s voice surfaced in his mind.
[New mission received!]
[Mission Details: Head to the underground fight arena and defeat 10 fighters in a row.]
[Rewards: 50 system points,]
Logan paused.
His control slipped. The remote fell again, striking the ground.
"Huh? Astra, why did I suddenly receive a new mission? And the rewards is so generous?"
[It’s to help you consolidate your strength. And also finally get a feel of what a one on one battle feels like.]
Astra’s reply was smooth. Unshaken.
Logan considered it.
Then nodded.
It made sense.
He needed real combat.
Since arriving in this world, everything he had faced had been far beyond his level.
Monsters. Threats he couldn’t asure.
’This is the perfect chance to retrieve that technique,’ Logan thought, his mind shifting toward the underground fight arena.
Winning ten consecutive matches granted a reward.
A choice.
Any low-rank technique.
It didn’t sound impressive.
But Logan knew better.
Even at that level, so techniques were deceptively powerful.
With that settled, he stood.
His origin energy moved instinctively, smoother now, more refined.
The broken remote stirred.
Fragnts lifted.
Shifted.
Reconnected.
Piece by piece, it reassembled, snapping back into place like a completed puzzle.
By the ti Logan walked toward the bathroom, it floated behind him, steady, controlled, before settling neatly onto the table.
He undressed and stepped into the bathroom.
The water ran.
Minutes later, he stepped out, his skin damp, his hair still wet.
He dried off, then put on the sa clothes.
’I need to get a change of clothes too.’
Stepping outside, he paused briefly, scanning his surroundings.
The street was quiet.
Dim.
Yellow streetlights stretched into the distance, casting long shadows across the road.
An old drunk staggered nearby.
Logan approached.
"Do you know where Valethrone is?"
"Valethrone?" The man slurred, barely conscious. Still, he pointed in a direction.
That was enough.
Logan moved.
He knew the underground fight arena was located there.
He just hadn’t known where to find it.
Before long, he arrived.
The difference was imdiate.
Noise. Light. Movent.
Masks hung on display, offered to those who wished to hide their identities.
Music pulsed faintly.
Figures moved in shadows.
Won danced openly, draped in little more than thin lingerie that left almost nothing to the imagination.
The atmosphere was thick. Heavy.
Tempting.
Dangerous.
Everything was here.
Wealth.
Connections.
And most importantly...
Won.
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