## The Shadow Multiverse: Chapter 2 – Bandits Are Basically Just Walking Bonus Stages
It's been about ten years since my rebirth under the watchful guidance of the **Atomic Core** system.
Magic is incredible. With it, I can perform feats far beyond any human limits. Crushing rocks? Easy. Running twice as fast as a horse? No problem. Jumping higher than houses? You bet.
But the legendary Taepodong (Taepodong: a North Korean intercontinental ballistic missile) remains beyond my reach. No matter how much magic boosts my physical resistance, Earth's most devastating weapons are a different beast entirely. Sometimes, I consider giving up on surpassing it, since there is none here. But what kind of power in the shadows compromises on standards? None, absolutely none.
So I continue striving for a body that can withstand even a Taepodong. To that end, I devote myself to research and training. Recently, a new possibility surfaced in my mind, and I've begun experimenting on it.
By the way, the family I was born into is a noble house known for generations of magic swordsmen—knights who strengthen themselves with magic. I was raised as the heir, but they treated me like any other apprentice swordsman (apprentice swordsman: a trainee learning swordsmanship).
Powers in shadows reveal their true strength only to those and where they choose. I still hold back, but the training here isn't wasted. It's a chance to study this world's magic-infused fighting styles and review my own.
Fighting techniques from my previous life were far more polished and rational. Real martial arts get improved through cross-school exchange, elimination of useless moves, and refinement—a melting pot that moves styles toward perfection.
Here, techniques stay confined to schools or regions. Disciples (disciples: students or followers) keep secrets, and with no media or travel, no polishing or selection happens. The result: crude techniques.
Still, fighting here is different—because of magic.
People's physical abilities are on another level with magic. They lift others with one hand, jump out of holds by flexing abs, and throw opponents with kicks. Grappling techniques (grappling: fighting involving holds and locks) are useless.
Fighters choose their engagement distance—*maai* (maai: the engagement distance in combat factoring in timing and angle)—very differently. *Maai* is the heart of combat; it's more than physical space, encompassing timing, angle, and rhythm to gain advantage.
I struggled to find my *maai* here. Fighters start dueling at five meters—a distance I initially accepted as "their style" until I realized it stems from weak defense, making fights bland dash-in, dash-out affairs.
For me, five or one hundred meters is irrelevant if it prevents effective attacks. Proper fighting relies on subtle movements—half-steps, tilts, shifts that win or lose positional advantage.
Once I adjusted my *maai* using **Atomic Core**'s help, fighting became much easier.
My daily life involves training with only my older sister and dad—dad teaches us; sister, two years older and likely the true heir, beats me regularly. In this magic world, girls can become incredibly strong and lead families. So I play the unremarkable "Mob A" (Mob A: an insignificant or generic character), masking my true prowess.
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My daytime is filled with noble duties; personal training happens after midnight. Utilizing meditation and magic's recovery aided by **Atomic Core**, I've optimized my sleep to be short but effective.
Tonight, I'll test my newest invention: the Slime Bodysuit.
Magic enhances weapons but suffers massive energy loss—only about 10% of mana poured into iron swords translates to power, and even high-grade mithril blades reach 50%.
Slimes, magical beings of liquid magic, have nearly 99% magic conductivity. I harvested thousands of slime cores, using **Atomic Core** guidance to synthesize a black, silent, flexible, and supportive bodysuit with formidable defense.
Wearing it, I resemble the dark villains of detective manga—ideal for my shadow work.
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I reach the abandoned village where a bandit gang recently raided a merchant caravan and now feasts by torchlight.
Perfect targets.
I ignore stealth; real practice demands confrontation.
"Hyaha~! Bring out all your money and valuables!!"
I'm ten, but a nightmare to them. My slime sword unfurls—Handy Function 1: extendable blade. Handy Function 2: hidden ice-pick from my toes. Bandits fall, and soon only Boss A remains.
He calls on "Royal Capital Bushin Style" (Royal Capital Bushin Style: fictional sword style), but it fails against my suit. I let **Atomic Core** scan and analyze him for later.
Finally, I end the fight with a precise toe sword kick.
Loot gathered, merchant justice done—five million Zeny (Zeny: currency roughly like Japanese yen) to fund my shadow ambitions.
Then I see a cage with a twitching lump inside—demon possession (demon possession: a condition where a human is overtaken by a demonic entity, causing decay and madness). The Church's "purifications" are brutal genocides hidden as protection.
I can't sell it, but I will put it to rest.
When I summon my slime sword through the cage bars, I sense an enormous magical presence—far beyond mine.
A strange fluctuation—magic deviation (magic deviation: unstable, dangerous overflow of magical energy).
I once suffered magic deviation myself. Had I failed, I'd be this creature.
Magic twists the body. I once considered inducing controlled magic deviation to condition myself, but it's too risky.
Now, with this lump, I can safely experiment.
"This meat... can be of use."
I extend my hand, channelling magic through **Atomic Core** into the creature.
A system message interrupts:
> **Atomic Core Mission:**
> Stabilize and save the subject.
>
> **Reward:** The subject becomes utterly loyal and will believe every word you say.
A grin forms. An obedient ally born of magic deviation—what better asset for an Eminence in Shadow?
With the System guiding me, this experiment is not just power—it's the forging of bonds that cross realities.