The dizziness from teleportation hadn't fully faded when Kiriya found himself standing in a bustling plaza.
Beneath his feet stretched a road paved with bluestone, with stubborn weeds growing between the cracks.
All around, the air buzzed with the chatter of players, the rhythmic clang of an NPC blacksmith's hammer, and even the faint, warm aroma of bread drifting from a nearby bakery—Mind Gear's five-sense simulation was so frighteningly precise it almost made him forget this was a virtual world.
This was EAO's starter village: Green Town.
Low wooden houses lined the streets, their eaves hung with faded signs—"General Store," "Weapon Shop"—scrawled in crooked handwriting.
Most players wore the same gray leather armor as him, gripping their starter weapons, clustering in small groups before the bulletin board, debating quests like "Eliminate 10 Forest Wolves" or "Collect 5 Goblin Claws."
"The realism's… kind of over the top."
Kiriya lowered his gaze to his own hands, feeling the rough grain of the leather armor against his fingertips.
Lifting his eyes, he swept over the crowd—most faces lit with curiosity or excitement, while a handful had already rushed toward the town gates, clearly veterans of many games.
But at that moment, his attention wasn't on quests at all.
With a thought, a familiar surge of magic stirred within him.
"Clone Summon."
As his MP dropped by 100 (800 → 700), two pale-blue motes of light burst into being at his sides.
When the glow faded, two identical figures stood where the lights had been—same black hair, same dark-gray eyes, same grip on the sword hilt, down to the subtle tension in the knuckles.
The only difference was the faintly transparent haze clinging to their outlines, like they were shrouded in mist.
"Different from the mirror phantoms."
Kiriya circled them, hawk-eyed. The phantoms in the secret realm had been cold and hostile, but these… these felt more like extensions of his own body. The connection between them was clear and alive.
He raised his right hand—both clones mirrored the motion exactly. He took two steps forward—they followed in perfect lockstep, maintaining a half-meter distance, as if tied to him by invisible threads.
"High sync rate."
Nodding in satisfaction, he drew his black-iron sword and slashed at the air.
"Phantom Thrust!"
Vmm—
The instant the blade cut through the air, the two clones attacked in unison. Three black arcs flashed together, their trajectories perfectly aligned, even the sway of their coats from the sword wind identical.
"Not simple mimicry—total synchronization."
Kiriya's eyes lit up. This meant he could control three "selves" at once, forcing enemies to face triple the blade threat.
A few nearby players noticed the commotion, glancing over.
"What skill is that? Clone summon?"
"Never seen it before… which class is that from?"
"Looks like a swordsman, but swordsmen don't start with clone skills…"
He ignored the whispers, his mind consumed by the urge to explore this new class further. With a swipe through his virtual menu, he pulled up the skill's details:
[Clone Summon]
Cost: 100 MP
Effect: Summons 2 clones that inherit 50% of the caster's ATK and DEF. Can synchronize basic skills (Phantom Thrust, Blink Step).
Duration: 30 seconds
Cooldown: 60 seconds
Special Interaction: The caster may swap positions with any clone (no additional cost; shares cooldown with Blink Step).
"Fifty percent stats… lasts thirty seconds…"
His gaze was fixed on Special Interaction.
Swap positions…?
He focused on the left-hand clone and thought, Switch.
No chant, no delay.
The scene blurred, as though ink had been dropped into water, and cleared in the next instant. Kiriya was now standing where the left clone had been, while a fading afterimage lingered at his original spot.
"—!"
He instinctively took a step back, heart pounding at the sudden displacement. The swap was almost instant—faster and subtler than Blink Step.
"This is the real key."
If the clones' synchronized attacks were his "quantity" advantage, then this seamless position switch was a qualitative leap. In battle, he could have a clone draw enemy attention while he flanked from behind; use a clone as a decoy to absorb a lethal blow; or chain swaps mid-movement to make himself impossible to track.
"The core of the Phantom style… is deception."
His lips curved into a confident smile. Ordinary swordsmen relied on strength and speed; his edge was chaos—creating an illusory web, then tearing it open with a killing strike.
To test further, he summoned two more clones.
"Blink Step!"
The three figures blinked five meters to the right, each appearing at a different point, forming a perfect equilateral triangle.
"Phantom Thrust!"
Three blades stabbed toward the same point in space, their arcs meeting with a soft hum.
"Switch!"
In a fluid chain, positions swapped—the real Kiriya now at the far left, the rightmost clone taking his former place. The movement was seamless, almost like the three of them were dancing.
A crowd had gathered by now.
"Holy crap, that's insane!"
"Hidden class? It has to be—no normal skill's like that."
"Hey, bro, team up? We need a DPS!"
A battleaxe-wielding Berserker squeezed to the front, grinning.
"Hey, my name's Brock, level 2. Let's go farm wolves together—super fast XP!"
Kiriya glanced at him and said flatly: "No, thank you."
He wasn't interested in teaming up—working with strangers would slow his testing, not to mention expose the Phantom Swordsman's secret.
Brock froze, surprised at the blunt refusal, his smile dimming.
"Come on, man, don't be so cold—team grinding's fastest in starter towns…"
Kiriya ignored him and headed for the west gate. He needed a quieter spot to test the final function—damage mitigation.
Outside, the forest was thick with green, sunlight dappling the ground through the canopy.
Level 1 Forest Wolves prowled between the trees, occasionally letting out low howls—the bread-and-butter prey of beginners.
Kiriya didn't attack right away. Instead, he summoned two clones and stepped into a wolf's line of sight.
"Grrr—!"
The wolf lunged, eyes locking onto the foremost "Kiriya" (actually a clone), claws gleaming.
"Now!"
He let the attack land.
-55!
The clone's HP (50% of his own, i.e., 600) dropped by 55; his own HP (1200/1200) stayed intact.
"…Not shared?"
When the wolf leapt again, he swapped with the target clone just before impact.
-58!
This time, his HP decreased, while the clone's remained untouched.
"Got it. Damage only transfers if I'm in the clone's position at the moment of impact. Otherwise, they take it alone."
It was a clever mechanic—he could let clones absorb most hits, only swapping in to "catch" attacks strategically. His survivability skyrocketed.
"Test complete."
He struck without hesitation.
"Phantom Thrust!"
Three blades pierced from left, center, and right. The wolf froze in confusion, unable to tell which was real—too late.
-144! (Main body, 120% Phys)
-72! (Clone A, 50% × 120%)
-72! (Clone B, same)
The combined -288 damage erased the wolf's ~250 HP instantly. Its body shuddered, dissolved into white light, leaving behind a few copper coins and some wolf meat.
[EXP Gained: 50]
[Level: 1 (50/100)]
"Good efficiency."
One kill, half a level's worth of EXP. Level 10 wouldn't take long.
He pressed deeper into the woods, clones pulling aggro while he flanked, splitting targets in multi-wolf packs; using Flash Step to disengage, then swapping back into the fray.
A tactical system was taking shape—built on deception and sudden, lethal strikes.
As the sun dipped low, the light through the leaves grew long and golden.
When the 30th wolf fell, a golden glow enveloped him—
[Level Up → 2]
[HP: 1300/1300]
[MP: 850/850]
"Time to resupply."
His MP bar was nearly dry—clone spam and skill chains were costly. Turning back toward Green Town, his clones dissolved into motes of light, leaving only faint ripples of magic in the air.
Passing the bulletin board, his eyes caught a fresh system alert in bold red:
[Warning: Recent player reports indicate malicious interference in the Level 15 Boss "Blood fang Boar King" zone, including kill-stealing and attacks on low-level players. Please exercise caution and seek NPC guard assistance if necessary.]
"Boss thieves?"
He raised an eyebrow. Every game had its rule-breakers. He'd have ignored it—except the marked zone happened to lie right along his planned leveling route.
"…Troublesome."
But his pace never slowed.
After all, for a player like him, trouble often meant one thing:
A more interesting challenge.