"I wish for all the powers of the most powerful characters in fiction, with no side effects nor debuffs."
He said it with a small smile, imagining the flood of abilities, omnipotence from gods, reality-warping from cosmic entities, immortality from vampires and demons alike. His heart quickened slightly, the calmness of mind keeping it from racing.
The screen flickered again, but this time with a red tint.
[Wish Rejected]
The smile dropped. Fern's brow furrowed, golden eyes narrowing. Rejected? He leaned forward, as if staring harder could intimidate the holographic interface.
"I wish for Infinite Luck."
[Wish Rejected]
A sigh escaped him. Of course. Too overpowered, too abstract. He adjusted, drawing from the fanfics he had once read.
"I wish for a Gamer System."
[Wish Rejected]
"I wish for Instant Mastery."
[Wish Rejected]
"I wish for Infinite Talent."
[Wish Rejected]
By now, frustration crept in, though the abyss's calm tempered it to a mild irritation. He understood the pattern: anything "infinite" or "instant" was off-limits, likely to prevent breaking whatever balance this system enforced. Fine. He would grind it down, extract every drop of power possible. Talent multipliers were common in stories, multiples of normal human potential in learning, growth, adaptation. If infinite was too much, he'd binary-search his way to the maximum.
"I wish for 10000x Talent."
[Wish Rejected]
"I wish for 9998x Talent."
[Wish Rejected]
"I wish for 9997x Talent."
[Wish Rejected]
He continued, voice steady, dropping by one each time.
The abyss stretched around him, timeless, as he persisted. Hours blurred or were they days? Weeks? In the void, time was meaningless, but Fern's determination wasn't.
He spoke methodically, testing the threshold like a programmer debugging code. Each rejection was a data point, narrowing the limit.
"I wish for 9996x Talent." [Rejected]
"I wish for 9995x Talent." [Rejected]
"I wish for 9994x Talent." [Rejected]
"I wish for 9993x Talent." [Rejected]
"I wish for 9992x Talent." [Rejected]
"I wish for 9991x Talent." [Rejected]
"I wish for 9990x Talent." [Rejected]
"I wish for 9989x Talent." [Rejected]
On and on it went. Fern paused only to reflect, wiping occasional tears as a particularly vivid memory surfaced, the hacksaw vibrating through his tibia, blood fountaining across the soldiers' faces. But he pushed on, adamant.
This was his chance to arm himself against whatever world awaited. No giving up. The abyss seemed to watch with fond amusement, its presence a subtle pressure encouraging him.
Down through the thousands: 5000x, rejected; 4000x, rejected; 3000x, still no. He halved his guesses to speed it up, like a game of higher-lower. 2000x? Rejected. 1000x? Rejected. 500x? Rejected. The rejections piled up, but Fern's voice never wavered, his beautiful face set in quiet resolve.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of monotonous wishing—voice echoing into nothingness, screen flickering red each time, he hit the sweet spot.
"I wish for 10x Talent."
The screen paused longer this time, as if considering.
[Wish Granted]
[You have 1 wish left]
"Finally! After so long."
Relief washed over him, a genuine smile breaking through.
10x Talent, it was immense. What took an average person 50 years to master, he could achieve it much faster
A legendary skill requiring 20 years of grueling practice? Leraned easily by him. Combined with the abyss's blessings, his superhuman strength, godlike beauty, magnetic appeal, and unshakeable calm, he was a force.
Learning swordplay, magic, strategy, languages, anything, would come exponentially faster. He was happy, truly, with what he'd wrung from the system.
The abyss hummed around him, still dark and empty. He glanced around, realizing the implication: without using the last wish wisely, he could be trapped here forever, floating in loving but isolating void. The screen waited patiently.
He had to transmigrate. To a new world, a fresh start. But which one? His mind raced through the stories he knew—fantasy realms with dungeons, sci-fi universes with mechs, superhero worlds with powers. He wanted somewhere he could grow, use his talents, perhaps find peace away from wars like the one that had claimed him, but why away? He was tortured because he was powerless but now he had power.
So war he seeked.
He wanted to kill, perhaps it was his way of copeing
With a steady breath, Fern spoke his final wish
"I wish to be transmigrated to..."