1-4 The Old Man Gets Regenerated

There was no doubt—this system had been made by me.

More precisely, by “the other me.”

It was built in the most convenient way for me to use.

I didn’t know how I’d managed it, but I tried recalling that dream I’d seen in the fog.

The dream where I was fiddling with a computer system.

Maybe inside that fog that crossed worlds, I’d used its energy and built this unconsciously, down in my subconscious domain.

Even when I wasn’t aware of it, my Seventh Sense was always working for me in the background.

Even if there were other people who’d ended up in this strange place, none of them would have something this detailed.

Thanks to the ability I’d always had, I’d managed to stack even more cheat on top of cheat.

It had saved me before too, but this time I was grateful more than ever.

A normal person wouldn’t realize what to do unless someone explicitly told them, “You’re about to cross worlds, so use that energy to build the system you need inside yourself within fifteen minutes!”

And even if they were told, they couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t do it either.

And for people like us who just slipped into a dimensional crack, there wasn’t some kindly god-type being standing around giving instructions.

People who actually experienced reincarnation apparently all say the same thing—across race, gender, religion, nation—that they met something like a god.

But I hadn’t died and reincarnated, so I had no connection to that kind of experience.

Whether that “god” was truly God, or just a shared concept of divinity within humanity’s collective unconscious…

Either way, I could probably keep modifying this system into something even easier to use.

Because it was something “I developed.”

First, I tried imbuing my daypack with “Item Box.”

A settings screen appeared, so I set it to “infinite storage only” and copied it.

When I pulled it out and checked, it had become a proper magic bag.

And even when I copied it again, the copied bag still had the storage function!

Next was “Regeneration.”

It seemed this could be applied to objects inside the Item Box too.

I pulled out an old small portable gas stove—a camping stove I’d used back in the ancient days when I still rode motorcycles—and it turned into a brand-new item.

Amazing.

In this world, you could buy used junk for next to nothing, regenerate it, and sell it for a fortune.

And then mass-produce it by copying, too.

In the back of my mind, I was already calculating what it would mean if I had to live in this world.

I was an old man who’d lived through a bitter life—unlike a young kid, I couldn’t stop thinking about the mundane, practical details that stuck to you like the smell of daily living.

And then it hit me.

Would this work on humans?

I wanted to try it, but testing something unknown on myself was scary.

But I read the help carefully, and it said it worked on humans too.

I tested it on other items, and even on living plants.

A wilted weed nearby straightened up and looked lively again.

What would happen with animals?

Normally you’d do proper animal trials and proceed cautiously.

But there weren’t any animals around.

And for it to be meaningful, it would have to be old or dying.

I wasn’t going to injure an animal myself—that would drag me straight into depression.

Then I decided.

I’d use it.

My Seventh Sense—my inner “power of conviction”—didn’t allow even a trace of anxiety about using Regeneration on myself.

If it was dangerous, I’d understand that clearly.

Especially when my life was at stake, my ability’s accuracy and intensity spiked dramatically—that was one of its defining traits.

If I died, my Seventh Sense died too.

That was probably why.

I knew this was safe.

Not logically—just knew.

I’d unconsciously wished for what I needed, and built the power.

I couldn’t believe I’d built something harmful to myself.

I set the target of “Regeneration” to myself, focused hard, and tapped Regeneration.

Then a terrifying force surged through my entire body.

It felt like I was being wrung out—gyururururu—like everything was being squeezed down.

Like those old hand-cranked laundry wringers, feeding cloth between two rollers until it came out flattened like a rice cracker.

More like:

“Gueeeeeh…”

It felt awful.

I couldn’t help it—I groaned and dropped to all fours.

For a while, all I could do was tremble.

Eventually it eased, and I stood up, swaying.

It felt like my MP level had risen again.

I opened my eyes.

“Oh…”

My body had been perfectly regenerated.

I couldn’t feel any of the problems that had plagued me.

It felt like my body from my twenties—my peak.

Because I’d been “squeezed,” my frame looked clean and sharp.

Up until my twenties, I’d always been lean like this.

My physical peak was probably around twenty-two.

That was exactly what it felt like.

Everything wrong with me had been fixed.

My eyes, my teeth, all my muscles and nerves.

My wrecked body was back to how it used to be—no, maybe even better.

Even my head felt strangely clear.

This was bad—too much “extra” had been restored too.

If only I could return to my original world like this…!

But for now, that seemed unlikely.

Still—this was a fantastic skill.

From the skill descriptions, magic clearly existed here, but I had no way of acquiring healing magic or recovery magic right now.

So having “system restoration” was invaluable.

It was more like complete repair of the body itself.

If this counted as magic, the spell name would probably be something like Repair.

Appraisal, Analysis, and Otherworld Language were all template-level functions.

I should use them often and level them up.

My MP was already Lv7.

About 1.34 billion MP.

It probably wouldn’t increase for a while.

Since there were no actual spells installed on my PC screen, I had no clue whether I could truly “use” this MP.

Still, it said All Attributes, and the MP value was absurd—so if I ever learned magic, I could look forward to it.

Concealment seemed like a skill for hiding this system.

Maybe it had other uses, too.

Since Concealment was active, my magic PC should be invisible to other people.

But did anyone in this world have the ability to see my status through concealment?

I didn’t know what existed here, so I couldn’t allow surprises.

My Seventh Sense had likely adapted to this world and built the magic PC.

But there was no guarantee that no one could interfere with it from the outside.

Just in case, I decided to make more weapons.

First, I created axes in multiple sizes, machetes, shovels, and enlarged copies of outdoor knives for throwing.

I filled a whiskey bottle with gasoline, stuffed cloth in the neck, and made a Molotov cocktail.

The Item Box had a disassembly function.

It also seemed to have synthesis, too—like an alchemy box.

Because transferring contents was a pain, I disassembled a bottle of whiskey into “bottle” and “contents,” then refilled the bottle with gasoline.

Then I used disassembly on a copied car, taking it apart until it was basically back to pre-welded sheet metal.

That was a nasty weapon.

If you dropped that on someone’s head, it would be horrific.

There were heavy components too—engine, automatic transmission, differential, steel wheels, frame…

My SUV weighed about 2.2 tons total—heavy for a passenger vehicle—and it had thick steel plating.

And I could launch things from the Item Box into the air.

Paired with the Radar, dropping something from high up could become a terrifying attack.

If I dumped gasoline from the inventory and tossed in a lit match or lighter, things could get insane.

Maybe Swedish matches would be best—the kind you strike once and they keep burning.

I created a dedicated inventory and set gasoline to auto-copy.

Same as water: I set it so it would generate directly inside its own inventory, and gasoline would do the same.

Either way, I wanted huge amounts of fuel for vehicles.

This was the second day since I’d arrived here.

I’d started to understand it.

Staying here wouldn’t bring me back to Japan.

I knew it.

I understood things like that.

If I stayed here, I’d become a forest-dweller.

Alone.

That was too much.

I had to look for a way back by other means.

And for that, I probably needed to go where people were.

If I went to town, I needed something I could convert into money.

Would gold have value here too?

And then I realized—I still had a luxury watch on my wrist!

It was an automatic.

If you left it off your wrist, it would stop before long.

Young people probably weren’t familiar with that kind of thing.

In my father’s era, everyone used them, and when I was little I’d played with them like toys.

My dad had a domestic brand.

Mine was a flashy nouveau-riche model with a gold and diamond dial.

I’d wanted it for a long time, so I was glad I’d splurged.

When I appraised it, gold did have value here too.

Thank goodness!

I appraised a silver necklace too—it was also clearly a valuable item here, so I copied it.

Long ago, silver used to be worth more than gold.

That’s why words like “bank” exist.

How was it here?

Still—having no ID and no local currency was a brutal problem.

Could I even enter the town?

The magic MAP let me view images of the distant town, but I had no idea about local customs.

I didn’t want to stay in the forest forever, but I also didn’t want to march into town carelessly and get captured and abused.

I also collected rocks and stones.

With my ability, I might be able to extract metal resources from rocks.

Even ordinary rocks contain elements like gold in trace amounts.

If it wasn’t profitable, it wouldn’t be called ore—but…

With my Item Box’s alchemy function and copy ability, even trace amounts could be copied and multiplied.

Worthless rock could become a miraculous ore that produced useful elements.

I could also enlarge-copy rocks and drop them from above, or throw them with Physical Enhancement.

I should also make better bladed weapons.

I did a partial copy of the hunting knife, cut it, then used the tip section as a base and synthesized a new tip from another cut piece.

Somehow I manufactured a large blade with a 46 cm cutting edge.

Then I tried extending it by adding a middle segment as a connector.

That pushed it to 61 cm.

Maybe it looked a bit like a sword now.

This blade was fairly straight, so it was easy to join.

I also made a 1.5× enlarged copy.

That produced a greatsword with a 90 cm blade.

The handle was oversized and awkward, but thanks to Physical Enhancement I could swing it well enough!

I should copy a bunch of these too.

Dropping them from above could skewer enemies, and I could also just throw them repeatedly.

I also processed selected tree branches into spear shafts.

Green wood and dried wood warp differently, but I could adjust even the water content inside the wood through the Item Box.

That was perfect for making properly dried firewood too.

I tested prototypes, selected the ones that fell straight, then copied a lot of them.

While I kept experimenting—swinging weapons, dropping them, trying things—it grew dark.

Another night of camping in another world.

Today, the usually unmotivated me actually put in effort and made it a BBQ.

The savory smell of meat on skewers filled the air.

Meat grilled over charcoal stoked appetite even in a situation this bizarre.

But apparently, it wasn’t only my appetite it stirred.

“That thing” suddenly invaded my world.

A chill shot down my spine and froze everything.

Even with beer in me, my body moved almost on autopilot.

In an instant, I finished Physical Enhancement, shifted sideways, flipped my body—

And rolled away, taking distance in an ugly scramble.

My regenerated body barely made that speed possible.

In my vision, the BBQ grill burst upward in slow motion.

My biological time stretched and expanded.

Damn—this was not good.

My body must have clearly sensed death, triggering this phenomenon.

My Seventh Sense sometimes moved my body on its own.

Lit by a toppled lantern and scattered coals, it floated in the pale glow against a curtain of darkness.

Its form was vivid, and yet unreal—like a movie projected onto a black screen—while still insisting, unmistakably, on being real.

I remembered a monkey-like UMA creature I’d seen around ten years ago.

But the monster that had appeared before me was clearly different.

That thing back then had shown no interest in me.

Its eyes had burned with madness, but that was hunger for mountain food.

This one was different.

It had decided I was prey, and it was waiting for the exact moment to secure me as food.

The distance to death was only about three meters.

Its size—two meters?

Three?

Darkness exaggerated fear and inflated the shape beyond measurement.

What stood there was something that couldn’t be called a bear, a spider, or a monkey—

A true “abomination.”

It stared at me.

Like its body was monstrous, but a face almost human-like sat on it like a mask.

It wasn’t remotely similar to a human face, yet it still felt that way.

This wasn’t an animal merely “looking.”

It looked… intelligent.

That disturbingly vivid white visage triggered pure terror.

It clearly wanted me.

My blood and flesh.

For the first time in my life, I experienced, skin-crawlingly, what it meant to be prey.

I hadn’t consciously noticed it in the moment, but fear must have triggered it—Appraisal activated automatically.