Link returned ho with a heavy heart, his mind weighed down by what he had read.
As he walked into the house, he was greeted by the sight of a table full of delicious food.
His parents had clearly been waiting for him for so ti. Even his little brother, Ryan, was already seated at the table, waving his knife and fork in excitent.
"Big brother, co eat with us!"
Link forced a smile and walked over to the table.
Though the al had been specially prepared by his mother, he didn't have much of an appetite. His thoughts were completely preoccupied by that strange and mysterious notebook.
According to what was written inside, his future self had set certain conditions that had to be t in order to unlock the rest of its contents.
Link could understand that logic. Sotis, knowing too much in advance could backfire. So truths, if revealed too early, might interfere with one's judgnt—or even spiral into disaster.
After chanically shoveling a few bites of food into his mouth, Link excused himself with the pretense of needing to review for school and returned to his room.
The notebook had said that the next entry would unlock at exactly midnight.
He checked the clock. There were still three hours to go.
Not wanting to waste ti just staring at the ceiling, Link grabbed a textbook—An Introduction to Spiritual Power—and started flipping through it seriously.
Ti passed without him realizing.
11:59 PM.
Link imdiately set the book aside and pulled the notebook out of his bag.
Just as promised, the next page began to reveal itself before his eyes.
But what he saw next left him utterly stunned.
"You will die at Bill's hands."
...What?
Link stared at the words, completely frozen.
What was his future self trying to say?
Was this so kind of twisted joke?
Suppressing his confusion, Link kept reading.
"Scared you, didn't I? But no—I'm not joking. You must die at Bill's hands. I'll explain the reason soon."
"Tomorrow morning, you'll take part in the Awakening Ritual at school."
"And you, Link, will awaken the most powerful talent humanity has ever known—an UR-rank talent!"
Was... was this real?
Link felt his breath quicken, his chest tightening with excitent.
UR-rank talents—Ultra-Rare. In the two hundred years since humans began awakening spiritual powers, only three people had ever gained one.
And now he was going to be the fourth?
It sounded like a dream.
Almost as if it could read his thoughts, the notebook continued:
"Excited? Of course you are. An UR-rank talent is considered a miracle—even among the moonfolk. Every one of them is heavily protected and guarded."
"The odds of awakening an UR-rank talent? Roughly one in ten billion."
Holy... what!?
One in ten billion?
With the current human population, that probability was unbelievably low.
The fact that humans even had three UR-rank talent holders was already a miracle. Now with him, it'd be four?
Link's mind drifted into fantasy—him standing on the battlefield, unstoppable, devastating enemies left and right—until the next line of text shattered it all:
"Unfortunately, your UR-rank talent... is absolute garbage. In fact, it might be the worst of all known talents. Its na: Death Replication."
Wait, what?
"You've probably already guessed what it does. That's right—you can only copy soone else's talent... after you die."
"But here's the problem—if you're already dead, what good is a copied talent?"
Link's excitent plumted into despair. His fantasy shattered. He flipped the page, hoping for so redemption.
To his surprise, the next page wasn't locked.
"Luckily for you, you also awakened a second talent—an SSS-rank talent: Death Rewind! I'm sure you can guess what that one does."
Link felt like he was riding a rollercoaster of emotions.
But at least this ti, he was going up again.
Death Rewind.
The na said it all. It was a resurrection-type ability. As long as it worked, then Death Replication might not be completely useless.
But if his talents were so powerful, then why did he still have to be killed by Bill?
Did Bill possess so world-breaking ability that had to be acquired at all costs?
To be honest, Link had never had much interaction with Bill. The two of them ca from different worlds entirely.
Bill, the son of a celebrated war hero—General Lannis—was born into prestige and power. A noble by blood. Occasionally, he'd bully soone like Link for fun, but Link had never cared enough to respond.
Now, however, his curiosity about Bill was growing rapidly.
"You've probably guessed it already—Bill's talent is... special. In fact, he's far luckier than you."
"He, too, will awaken an UR-rank talent. Its na: Analyze & Plunder. As long as he can analyze your talent, he can steal it for himself."
"Though UR talents can't be copied between UR holders, your Death Rewind is an exception. After all, who wouldn't want an extra life?"
Link's face darkened.
If Bill managed to steal his Death Rewind... then his Death Replication would beco utterly useless.
That's why his future self had warned him from the very beginning—kill Bill.
Because Bill would never hesitate to kill him for the sake of gaining another powerful ability.
But then... if he had to kill Bill, why die by his hand first?
Almost like it was waiting for the question, the notebook answered:
"I know what you're thinking. Why go to all this trouble? It's because our true goal isn't Analyze & Plunder."
"It's sothing far more important—Bill's SSS-rank talent: Supre Library."
"That's right. You and Bill are the only two humans with double talents."
"Just from the na alone, you can imagine how powerful it is. The Supre Library is far more critical than you realize—it's the cornerstone of our entire early-stage plan."
"Here's the deal—you must die by Bill's hand. And it has to be before he steals your talent."
"Rember this: If Bill successfully steals Death Rewind, you are truly dead. No second chances."
Link felt cold sweat trickle down his back.
This wasn't a strategy—it was a gamble with his life!
If Bill acted a second faster... if he stole Death Rewind before killing him...
It'd all be over.
Was the Supre Library really worth all this?
Couldn't he just avoid Bill?
He slamd the notebook shut, frustration bubbling inside him. Grabbing a soda can, he took a long swig, letting the fizz cool his nerves.
Then he reopened the notebook, this ti with greater focus.
No. He wouldn't have agreed to this unless it was absolutely necessary.
There had to be a reason for walking such a dangerous path. Sothing too big to avoid.
And sure enough, the notebook had more to say.
"Bill must die, because..."
"...he is the traitor."
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