The village, which the man—a stern-faced elder named Kaelen—called Oakhaven, felt smaller once Hyun Joo was inside its borders. Up close, the "sturdy" buildings were revealed to be ancient, timber-framed structures patched with the same river clay Hyun Joo had used on his own shelter. The smell was a thick, overwhelming sensory assault: woodsmoke, the pungent musk of the horn-goats, and the sharp tang of curing hides. To a man who had smelled only damp earth and pine for a year, it was nearly dizzying.
Kaelen led him to a heavy wooden table outside a central longhouse. A small crowd remained at a distance, their eyes lingering on his crude leather vest and the stone knife at his hip. Hyun Joo sat where he was told, his movements deliberate and economical—a habit born from a year where every wasted motion was a wasted calorie.
"You say you lived in the Greenbelt for a year," Kaelen began, sitting opposite him. He set the heavy tool he carried—a broad-headed wood axe—on the table between them. "Alone? Without iron?"
Hyun Joo nodded slowly. He felt the Appraisal talent twitching in the back of his mind, but he suppressed the urge to stare at the axe. "I had a stone I shaped into a knife. And my spear".
"Many go into the Greenbelt," Kaelen said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register. "Few come out. Fewer still come out looking like they've been eating well while the wolves go hungry."
Hyun Joo's 100% Memory Retention sparked, pulling a specific memory of a survivalist explaining how to appear non-threatening while maintaining a position of strength. "I am a patient man," Hyun Joo said, the Aetheris language flowing from his tongue with an effortless, rigged precision. "I learned the rules of the forest before I tried to master it."
Kaelen studied him for a long minute. "Patience is a rare virtue for a man of twenty-one. Most boys your age would have tried to wrestle a bear by the second month and ended up as its bedding."
Hyun Joo offered a small, respectful bow of his head. "I have a proposal. I need clothes that do not smell of smoke and hide. I need a bed that isn't made of moss. I will work for these things".
Kaelen gestured toward a pile of massive, uncut timber near the edge of the village. "The spring floods brought down several ironwood trunks. They're too heavy for the boys to move to the sawpit, and we don't want to tire the goats before the market trek. If you can move them, we'll find you a place in the barn and some old wool."
Moving the ironwood was his first real benchmark. On Earth, he had been a man whose "strength" was limited to carrying groceries up a flight of stairs. Now, as he approached the first log—a behemoth as thick as his chest—he felt the steady swirl of energy beneath his ribs.
He didn't use the points yet. He still had forty available, a hoard of potential he guarded with a miser's obsession. He wanted to know what Str: 20 truly meant.
He crouched, digging his feet into the dirt. He focused on the "thread" of magic, circulating it through his legs and lower back the way he had practiced during his months of meditation. As he heaved, the log groaned. To the watching villagers, it must have looked impossible—a lean, travel-worn youth shifting a weight that usually required a team of three men.
To Hyun Joo, it felt like a heavy burden, but not an insurmountable one. His muscles didn't scream; they hummed. His breathing remained the measured, rhythmic intake he had perfected while running uphill in the forest.
Ping.
System Notification: Strength (Str) progress increased: (20%) -> (22%). Repetitive heavy labor under the influence of Mana circulation is being recorded.
He wiped sweat from his brow, a quiet satisfaction blooming in his chest. Training in the village was more efficient than training in the woods—the goals were clearer, and the rewards were immediate.
By midday, the logs were at the sawpit. By evening, he was sitting in the communal kitchen, draped in a scratchy but clean wool tunic. Before him sat a wooden bowl of thick pottage and a heel of coarse bread.
He picked up a small, dried leaf that had been served as a garnish and focused his intent.
Appraisal Lv. 2: Sun-leaf (Dried): A common culinary herb. Safe to eat. When brewed as a tea, it provides a minor boost to fatigue recovery.
"It works on everything," he whispered to himself.
He spent the next week in a rhythm that mirrored his time in the forest, but with the added complexity of social observation. He volunteered for every grueling task: hauling water from the stream, tilling the rocky soil of the garden patches, and helping the village smith steady heavy plates of iron.
He used these moments to "Appraise" the villagers. He couldn't see their numbers—the system didn't show him a "Status" for others—but at Level 2, the descriptions were revealing.
He looked at the blacksmith, a man with arms like gnarled oak roots.
Appraisal: A seasoned craftsman of Aetheris. His physical strength is honed by decades of labor. He is wary of strangers but respects honest work.
He looked at a passing guard from a neighboring estate who had stopped for water.
Appraisal: A low-tier combatant. He carries the scent of cheap ale and iron. His reflexes are disciplined but slowed by poor constitution.
Hyun Joo realized that while he might not be the strongest man in Aetheris, his 20 in every stat made him an outlier. Most people were specialists; they had strength but lacked agility, or had intelligence but lacked vitality. He was a "completed" human, a balanced tool capable of adapting to any role.
One evening, while sitting by the fire in the barn, he pulled out a small copper coin Kaelen had given him as a "bonus" for the ironwood labor. It was his first piece of currency in this world.
"Aetheris," he said, the name still feeling like a promise of danger.
He closed his eyes and felt the pool of energy inside him. It was thicker now, a reliable reservoir. He had learned that the villagers didn't talk about "Magic Stats." They talked about "The Breath" or "The Flow." Only the wealthy and the learned—the scholars and mages he had yet to meet—treated it as a science.
He opened his status window one last time before sleep.
Available points: 40 Str: 21 (earned through the timber labor) Agi: 20 Int: 20 Dex: 20 Chr: 20 Vit: 20 Mag: 20
He hadn't spent a single point. He was saving them for the "dangers" the welcome message had promised.
"Tomorrow," he told himself, "I ask about the road to the capital."
He lay back on the straw, which felt like silk compared to his moss bed, and for the first time in either of his lives, Kim Hyun Joo didn't feel jealous of anyone. He was the one with the hidden points. He was the one with the perfect memory. He was the one who knew the rules.