Nagasaki, Japan – One Week Later
The small fishing boat rocked gently on the waves, its wooden hull creaking under the weight of the ocean's rhythm. Jiwon Seo, eight years old and barely alive, lay wrapped in a coarse blanket, his cream-colored hair damp against his forehead. His amber eyes fluttered open, meeting the concerned faces of a middle-aged couple. The man, weathered and broad-shouldered, adjusted the lantern above, while the woman, her dark hair streaked with gray, knelt beside him, her hands gentle as she checked his pulse.
"Daijoubu desu ka?" she asked softly in Japanese, her voice warm but laced with worry. "What's your name, little one?"
'Japanese?' Jiwon realized, despite the dull ache throbbing through his body. His mind churned, a chaotic swirl of memories—Jiwoo's tear-streaked face, the shattering orb, the cold ocean swallowing him. He was alive, somehow, but the weight of his choice settled like a stone in his chest. He wasn't just Jiwon Seo, Jiwoo's twin. He was a transmigrator, a fan who knew Eleceed's story, and he couldn't risk going back. What if his presence changed everything? What if Kayden, the mentor Jiwoo needed, walked away because of him? What if Jiwoo never grew into the hero he was meant to be, always running, always hiding?
"Jiwon…" he croaked, his Japanese halting but passable, a remnant of his past life's heritage. 'What stroke of luck!' he thought bitterly, the irony sharp against the wreckage of his sacrifice.
"My name's Jiwon… I don't… remember much else." The lie tasted like ash, but it was necessary. He couldn't go home, not if it meant endangering Jiwoo's destiny.
The woman's eyes softened, and she glanced at her husband. "Kawaisou… Poor thing," she murmured. "He's so young. Do you think he's alone?"
The man frowned, his weathered face creasing. "We should take him to the authorities. They can find his family."
"No!" Jiwon bolted upright, wincing as pain shot through his small frame. His kinetic energy flickered faintly, a spark of his Awakened power, but he suppressed it. "Please… don't. I don't have anyone. I… I just want to stay with you."
His voice trembled, half from fear, half from the act. Manipulating their kindness felt wrong, but he had to stay hidden—for Jiwoo's sake.
The couple exchanged a heavy look, years of unspoken longing in their eyes. The woman, Hana, touched Jiwon's cheek, her fingers warm against his clammy skin. "We've always wanted a child," she whispered to her husband, Taro. "Maybe… this is fate."
Taro hesitated, then nodded slowly. "If he has nowhere else… we'll take care of him. But we need to be careful. He's not ordinary." His gaze lingered on Jiwon, sensing something beyond the frail boy before them.
Jiwon swallowed, guilt twisting his gut. He was safe, adopted by kind strangers, but every thought of Jiwoo—his selfless, cat-loving brother—felt like a knife. He'd saved Jiwoo, but at what cost? The Eleceed plot had to stay on track. Jiwoo needed to meet Kayden, train, grow strong. Jiwon's presence could ruin it all. So he'd stay here, in Nagasaki, a ghost in his own story, watching from afar.
But deep in his core, a strange hum pulsed, his kinetic energy restless, as if tethered to something beyond the ocean. The SYSTEM, whatever it was, hadn't let him go.
A faint blue screen hovered at the edge of his vision, its edges glitching like static. Invisible to Hana and Taro, it pulsed with cryptic text:
"SYSTEM ACTIVE: KINETIC CORE DETECTED"
Jiwon's breath hitched. A system? How cliché, he thought, a mix of amusement and dread curling in his chest. Was this tied to the orb he'd shattered? To the hum of kinetic energy still thrumming in his veins, restless and wild?
'Now what are you?' he wondered, staring at the screen as the boat swayed toward shore.
=====================================
Nagasaki – Two Weeks Later
The Yamamoto household was modest, tucked in a quiet Nagasaki neighborhood where the sea's salt clung to the air. Jiwon—now called Hiro Yamamoto to avoid suspicion—sat cross-legged on the tatami floor of his new room, a small space with a low wooden table and a window overlooking the harbor. Hana had given him a soft blue yukata, too big for his frail frame, and a stuffed octopus toy she'd found at a market, her eyes bright with hope. Taro, gruff but kind, had carved him a wooden boat, its curves smooth under Jiwon's fingers. Their warmth was a lifeline, but it only deepened his guilt.
He was an intruder, a liar living under their roof, but he couldn't leave. Not yet. Nagasaki was far from Seoul, far from Jiwoo, and that distance was his brother's shield. Jiwon's knowledge of Eleceed was his guide: Jiwoo's story began with solitude, then Kayden's arrival years later. Jiwon's presence could disrupt that delicate balance, could steal the trials that forged Jiwoo into a hero.
'I love you too much to ruin you.' he thought, picturing Jiwoo's amber eyes, his gentle smile. 'You have to be strong without me.'
But Jiwon wasn't idle. His kinetic powers, sharper and more explosive than Jiwoo's pure speed, simmered beneath his skin, harder to control each day. At night, when Hana and Taro slept, he'd sneak to the rocky beach far away from the house where no one can hear him to test his limits. A sprint along the shore, his body a blur, left cracks in the pebbles, his fists glowing with stored energy. A single punch sent a boulder tumbling into the sea, the impact echoing like thunder. Each move amplified his force, but the backlash strained his small body—muscles aching, nosebleeds staining his sleeves.
The blue screen followed him, unyielding. It flickered with prompts:
"UPGRADE KINETIC AMPLIFICATION? Y/N"
"SYNC WITH SYSTEM CORE? Y/N"
Jiwon ignored them, wary of its origins. 'Was it the organization's tech, reborn from the orb's fragments? Or something else, tied to his transmigration? Cliché or not, I'm not your pawn' he thought, swiping the screen away. But its hum matched the pulse in his chest, a reminder that his sacrifice had left ripples he couldn't escape. 'I know it might be stupid to not accept it, but I can't trust this sytem yet.'
Jiwon went back to Yamamoto household and quietly sneaked back to bed.
Morning came and Hana noticed his restlessness. "Hiro, you're so quiet," she said, setting a bowl of miso soup before him. Her Japanese was gentle, and Jiwon pieced together her words, his past-life fluency rusty but improving. "Do you… miss something? Someone?"
Jiwon's spoon paused, his throat tight. "I… don't know," he lied, hating the hurt in her eyes. "Thank you, Hana-san. For everything." He forced a smile, his 8-year-old face soft but strained.
Taro, chopping fish at the counter, grunted. "You're strong, kid. But don't carry it all alone. We're your family now." His words were blunt, but Jiwon felt their weight. Family. Could he let himself belong here, even a little?
That afternoon, Jiwon wandered the Nagasaki streets, his yukata sleeves flapping as he explored. The city was alive—vendors hawking takoyaki, children laughing, the distant chime of a temple bell. His amber eyes scanned for threats, his Eleceed knowledge on high alert. Nagasaki wasn't a hub for Awakened, but minor players existed—rogue fighters, small factions. If the organization tracked him here, he'd need to be ready.
At a quiet park, he sat under a cherry tree, its blossoms long gone. The blue screen reappeared, bolder now:
"WARNING: KINETIC SURGE DETECTED. STABILIZE OR RISK OVERLOAD"
Jiwon's heart raced as his aura flared, unbidden, scattering leaves around him. 'Not now' he thought, clenching his fists. The hum grew louder, and a memory flashed—Jiwoo's voice, "Jiwon, stop! You'll die!"—before fading into static.
A rustle broke his thoughts. A stray kitten, skinny and gray, limped toward him, meowing softly. Jiwon's heart lurched—Jiwoo would've fed it, loved it. He reached out, his small hand trembling, and the kitten nuzzled him. "You're alone too, huh?" he said, his Japanese shaky. "Guess we'll stick together."
He carried the cat home, naming it Neko in his head, a quiet tribute to Jiwoo.
Hana beamed when she saw it, promising to buy food. Taro just shook his head, muttering about strays, but his eyes were soft. For the first time, Jiwon felt a spark of belonging, fragile but real.
But that night, as he lay on his futon, Neko curled beside him, the blue screen glowed brighter:"SYSTEM OBJECTIVE: ASSIMILATE KINETIC CORE OR RISK OF OVERLOADING THAT MAY DAMAGE HOST"
"Overloading = ■□□□□□□□□□"
"Overloading = ■■■□□□□□□□"
"Overloading = ■■■■■■■□□□"
'WHAT??!'
The blue screen suddenly hovered to his face as if telling him to make a choice:
"SYNC WITH SYSTEM CORE? Y/N"
'YES!' he frantically chose. 'Oh shit, what have I done??!! Ughhh! Nevermind! I just hope this isn't the evil organization's trick!'
"SYNCING ABSORBED KINETIC CORE TO HOST'S SYSTEM CORE"
"Syncing Commencing..."
"■□□□□□□□□"
"■■■■□□□□□"
....
'Is it done?' Jiwon sighed with only his haggard breath breaking the silence. 'Well that was anticlimacti-'
But then a sudden burst of pain suddenly hit Jiwon's body as if he had been hit by a truck. The kitten got startled awake and ran to the corner of the room frightened but was concerned for Jiwon.
'Fuck!' he wanted to shout, to scream, to do anything just to relieve the pain he is experiencing now. But he couldnt... No he wouldn't. 'I can't let the Yamamoto's know about any of this!'
He forced himself not to make any noise as to not alert the sleeping couple just across the room.
'I...have..to be...strong' he reminded himself, with the pain still tormenting him. Energy seemingly colliding with something in his chest. 'Is that my core?'
For what feels more than an hour, the pain suddenly decreased. He sat in a meditative position and focused in controlling the rampant energy and tries to assimilate it to his core just like what the system said. 'To hell with this shit!'
After 3 hours of meditating, the pain finally vanished.
'Now, is it finally done??!' He thought.
"■■■■■■■□□"
"■■■■■■■■■"
"Syncing Complete!"
Jiwon's vision swam, his small body slumped against the futon, drenched in sweat. The pain of the SYSTEM syncing with his core had been excruciating, like lightning tearing through his veins, but now it was gone, leaving only a dull ache and a bone-deep exhaustion. His amber eyes, heavy-lidded, lingered on the glowing blue screen hovering before him.
"New System Functions!"
"Character Sheet"
[World]Eleceed
[Character Info]
〔Name〕Seo Ji-Won
〔Age〕8
〔Level〕1 「Exp」■□□□□□□□□□
『HP 350/500』
『MP 300/300』
"Stats"
『ATK』5
『DEF』3
『DEX』10
『INT』7
「Extra Points」0
"Abilities"
●Super Speed
●Kinetic Absorption/Release
The SYSTEM's interface had transformed, no longer cryptic warnings but a game-like character sheet, straight out of the isekai novels he'd read in his past life. Cliché doesn't even begin to cover it, he thought, a weak laugh escaping his parched lips.
Neko, the skinny gray kitten, crept back from the corner, her green eyes wide with concern. She nudged his trembling hand, her soft meow breaking the silence of the Yamamoto household. Jiwon's heart clenched—Jiwoo would've loved her, would've snuck her treats and built her a bed from old blankets.
He forced himself to sit up, his yukata clinging to his damp skin. The room was dark, save for the faint moonlight filtering through the window and the SYSTEM's eerie glow.
The character sheet stared back at him, its stats and abilities laid bare. HP 350/500—his health was low, probably from the syncing and his near-death in the ocean. DEX 10 made sense; his speed and kinetic powers were his strength, even if his 8-year-old body couldn't handle them. ATK 5, DEF 3—he was a glass cannon, all offense and agility, no durability. Kinetic Absorption/Release intrigued him most. He'd felt it on the ship, each movement building energy, amplifying his strikes until the orb shattered. But the backlash had nearly killed him.
'Can I control it better now?' he wondered, flexing his fingers. A faint hum answered, his core pulsing in sync with the SYSTEM.
'Wait… am I freaking out for nothing?' Jiwon's brow furrowed, his past-life instincts kicking in. He'd been paranoid, assuming the SYSTEM was tied to the organization—their creepy scientist, that glowing orb, their "amplification project." But this? This was too… gamey. Too much like the transmigration tropes he knew. What if it's just a cheat? A perk for getting isekai'd into Eleceed?
The thought was almost laughable, but it clicked. The organization's tech was clunky, mechanical, meant to drain powers. This SYSTEM was sleek, intuitive, like it was made for him.
'I've read enough webnovels to know a transmigrator's golden ticket when I see one.'
He let out a soft chuckle, the sound startling Neko. "Sorry, girl," he whispered, his Japanese rusty but improving. "Guess I was overreacting." The fear that had gripped him—visions of masked goons tracking him through the SYSTEM—faded, replaced by cautious relief. If this was his cheat, he'd use it. Not to become some overpowered protagonist, but to grow strong enough to stay hidden, to protect Jiwoo from afar.
The screen flickered, displaying a new prompt:
"MISSION: STABILIZE KINETIC CORE. REWARD: +5 STAT POINT"
Jiwon's eyes narrowed, but this time, he didn't flinch. Okay, SYSTEM, you want me to play? Fine. Stabilizing his core sounded smart—his powers were wild, leaving him with nosebleeds and aching muscles after every test on the beach. A stat point could boost his DEF or ATK, making him less of a glass cannon.
'I'll take every edge I can get.'
"Hiro? You okay?" Hana's voice came through the shoji door, soft but tinged with concern. Jiwon's heart skipped, and he swiped the screen away, its glow vanishing.
He couldn't let them know about his powers. Hana and Taro were kind, but they were human, unaware of the Awakened world. If trouble followed him to Nagasaki, they'd be caught in the crossfire.
"I'm fine, Hana-san!" he called, his voice high but steady. "Just… talking to the cat." Neko tilted her head, as if agreeing, and Jiwon managed a small smile. 'Gotta keep this secret. For their sake, too.'
He eased back onto the futon, Neko curling against his side, her warmth a quiet comfort. The Yamamoto household smelled of sea salt and cedar, the distant hum of waves a constant lullaby. Nagasaki was his refuge, a world apart from Seoul's dangers, but it wasn't home. Home was Jiwoo's laugh, their mother's rice porridge, the strays they'd named together.
Jiwon's throat tightened, but he pushed the tears back. 'I'm not a kid, not really. I know what I have to do.' His past life—binging Eleceed, cheering for Jiwoo's battles—gave him clarity. He'd stay here, as Hiro Yamamoto, a boy who didn't exist in the manhwa's pages, ensuring Jiwoo's story unfolded as it should.
The SYSTEM was his tool now, a cheat to master his kinetic powers. He'd train in secret, on that rocky beach where the cliffs hid his glowing fists. He'd learn to absorb and release energy without breaking himself, to sprint without cracking the ground.
'One day, if Jiwoo needs me, I'll be ready' he vowed, his small hand resting on Neko's fur. But for now, he'd live quietly, blending into Nagasaki's rhythm—school, markets, Taro's fishing trips, Hana's gentle smiles.
Morning light crept through the window, painting the tatami gold. Jiwon's eyes grew heavy, the SYSTEM's glow fading as sleep pulled him under.
'Thanks for the cheat, universe' he thought, a faint smirk on his lips. 'I'll make it count.'
The screen pulsed once, as if acknowledging him, then vanished, leaving only the hum of his core and Neko's soft purrs.