## Chapter 1: Remaining Within the Limits of Being Human Means You Would Be Vaporized By a Taepodong
Ever since my earliest memories—before I even understood such things as fate or destiny—one desire pulsed at the core of my being: to become a power in the shadows.
Not a hero basking in the spotlight. Not a villain seeking fame. I wanted the type of figure who shapes civilizations from behind the curtain—a name spoken only in hushed tones, if at all.
Why? Maybe it was the anime. The manga. The obsession with stories where the real mastermind draws invisible lines between empires while the world remains oblivious. Who knows. Maybe it was just me.
But for me, the ordinary idolization of heroes was never enough. I didn't outgrow my fantasy—I descended deeper. I trained relentlessly in martial arts, boxed, studied kendo, dabbled in every art imaginable. Not so people would notice. Especially not for that. My aim was to master everything necessary by the time my real "role" began. At school, I played the forgettable mob character, harmless and unremarkable. In secret, I prepared myself to be worthy of an existence beyond that—the Eminence in Shadow.
Of course, there was a limit to what my humanity could offer. No matter my dedication, my strength, my skill—faced with modern weaponry, even I would be vaporized. The System kept a quiet tally of my power, always with a faint sense of irony.
I realized that no amount of muscle would let me withstand a missile. That wasn't the strength I needed.
Magic, mana, qi, aura—whatever it took. If I had to go beyond the limits of humankind, I would do it. I meditated, fasted, trained in forests, sought spirits, invoked names older than memory, even as the System's faint, teasing notifications occasionally danced at the edge of my exhausted mind: "Achievement unlocked: Relentless Delusion."
At first, I chalked it up to the effects of concussion, or madness from pushing myself to the edge. But the System began guiding me, quietly rewarding every escalation, every impossible ritual.
My vision blurred after another night of training under the stars. Flickers of light, a data-chime so faint I almost missed it. "Progress: 13% Multiversal Synchronization." I stumbled toward the brightness like a moth, convinced I had finally found it—magic itself, or perhaps a door. Maybe this was it: the thin place between one reality and the next.
A flash, a crash—two dazzling headlights and time turned white. The System was suddenly crystal-clear: "Critical failure. External interference detected. Initiating transfer protocol."
And then darkness.