Ding!
[Eugene Larson's Memories 100% Unlocked]
Blood ran down from my eyes, nostrils, and ears as I slowly opened them. Consuming so much information at once was painful—But necessary.
For the first time since I arrived in this world, I felt clarity.
Direction.
Understanding my past made the path forward obvious.The present was no longer confusing. The future… mine to decide.
"I was betrayed by my family," I said, a small secret smile creeping across my face. "And I slaughtered all of them. What crime did I commit?"
[You killed your parents, brother, wife, and children. After your execution by the state military, the heavens gave you another chance to right your wrongs—but you repeated the same sin. Again and again. No matter how many times you were reborn, you always chose that path.]
Hmph.
I pushed my hair back with my palm. The smile on my face widened into something twisted.
Crazed.
The heavens judged me harshly. Forced me to relive betrayal after betrayal. Forced me to choose differently.
But each time, I chose me.
At some point, they changed tactics. They had me reborn decades earlier—before I ever met my wife.
Before the betrayal.
Before the tragedy.
Even then, I still killed my parents. Still killed the woman who hadn't even known me yet.No matter how they twisted the narrative, I made sure the ending stayed the same.
"This is who I am," I chuckled.
Satisfied.
I had committed no sin.
I was a man who gave everything—my career, my blood, my loyalty—to protect my family.
And what did I get in return?
Betrayal.
What did they expect?
That I should spend the rest of my life drowning in regret?
No.
Now I had only one question: Why did the heavens seal my memories?
Were they hoping this world would soften me before I remembered the truth?
Was this their sneaky little way of making me atone for a sin I never committed?
The truth is simple.
The heavens don't control mortals. What we possess is Will—and that's something the heavens fear. Something they can't control.So they punish us when our will doesn't match their plan.
But I knew this wasn't about justice or repentance.
I've walked too many lives.
I've seen how they operate.
"God is dead, and the universe is collapsing. The balance has been shattered, and you have been chosen to be the next Gatekeeper... That is your punishment."
That was what the system told me when I came to this world.
God is dead.
The world is falling apart.
But instead of finding a new god, they chose a Gatekeeper. Since it's a punishment, doesn't that mean the Gatekeeper role isn't something to be admired?
I narrowed my eyes.
"What is a Gatekeeper?" I muttered, rubbing my chin.
"Is it something I should be working toward? Something I should want?"
Funny. I had never thought about it. Not until now. And in all this time, the system had stayed quiet, like a child caught stealing candy.
I smirked.
"I know what to do now."
My gaze shifted to the glowing cluster of messages I'd been ignoring since waking up.
> [Subtask completed]
[+50 EXP]
> [Name] Adam Black
[Level] 2
[Race] Human
[Talent] Gatekeeper
[Talent Tier] SSS-Tier
[Stats]
Strength: 3
Speed: 3
Vitality: 4
Intelligence: 10
[Health Points] 10/40
[Energy Points] 10/20
[Experience Points] 50
[Skill]
Name: Door
Tier: C
Cost: 1
Proficiency: 15%
Technique: Door Post
The last battle had taken its toll and for what?
Fifty experience points?
Still… seeing my intelligence stat jump to ten after regaining my memories?
Now I understand. They wanted to keep me stupid.
"Fuck the heavens."
I placed the cigarette between my lips and took another long drag.
The door suddenly swung open, but I didn't rush to check. I kept staring at the full moon and exhaled a cloud of smoke.
"Ooh?" Pamela's voice rang with playful mischief. "Didn't think sassy girls were your type."
I immediately understood what she meant.
My eyes shifted to Natasha, snoring beneath the sheets, then returned to Pamela.
"When I finally get laid, you'll be the first to know," I said dryly. "For now, I'm still a virgin. I'm sure you've done your research on me."
Pamela flinched at my words.
Maybe it was my tone.
Maybe the look in my eyes.
Either way, I could tell she was spooked.
"Are you okay?" she asked, worried. "You have blood all over your face."
"Oh…"
I'd been too focused on deciphering the system's intentions.
I forgot how badly I got wrecked regaining my memories.
"It's nothing." I wiped my face with the edge of the curtain.
When I finished, I stepped back and stared at the bloodstained fabric.
Expensive. Probably custom-made.
I wondered how the Lord would react to this when he returned.
"So…" I took another drag of my cigarette. "Is this how the government trains its future talents? Kill half, then hope the traumatized survivors find strength through shared tragedy?"
I walked three steps back and sat on the window ledge.
"I'm all ears."
Pamela's frown deepened. As expected, she didn't answer right away. She stepped beside me, gazing out the window at the moon. I could feel her glance shifting from the sky to me, but I didn't look at her.
I exhaled a thick plume of smoke. Then, silence.
Finally, she spoke.
"Talents evolve," Pamela said in a heavy voice. "So ratings don't matter. What matters is capability—physically, mentally, emotionally. That's what we look at."
For a moment, I almost believed she hated what happened today.
"On this expedition, we'll lose more than half," she continued. "But the next trip will cost fewer lives. Our job is to observe—find talents worth investing in. They get resources. The rest are discarded."
I stayed silent, occasionally nodding. She kept sneaking glances at me, probably trying to gauge my reaction.
"Quality over quantity," I muttered.
She nodded.
But something didn't add up.
"If Limitless are the only ones who can fight these monsters," I said slowly, "isn't it foolish to cut our numbers?"
Pamela smiled—like she'd been waiting for that question.
"That would be true… if that were the case."
"It's not?" I raised a brow.
"Partially," she said. "It's classified. I can't say more until you're part of the system."
I let out a long breath.
My brows tightened as I processed her words. Then I turned to face her.
"You've taken a special interest in me. I doubt you explain this much to every student. What do you want?"
Pamela didn't flinch.
"Isn't it obvious?" she smirked. "You have the mind and skill to climb fast. I'm just earning favors early—so I benefit from your success."
Disgustingly honest.
So blunt it bordered on rude.
But I didn't take it personally. I had a feeling her talent played a role in how she spoke.
"I see. That makes sense," I said, almost absently, then stood up.
Pamela instinctively stepped back. I approached, towering over her small frame. We locked eyes and our faces stood just inches apart.
"Since you're officially my benefactor," I said calmly, "I want to know everything you know about this place. And what you plan to do next."