Chapter 58: The Cost of Obsession
I barely registered the passage of time. Days blurred together into a singular rhythm—wake up, absorb knowledge, test my understanding, repeat. The world outside my office ceased to exist. No distractions. No breaks beyond the bare minimum required to stay functional. Just me, the endless sea of information, and the quiet hum of the desk lamp casting flickering shadows over the fortress of books and scattered notes that had taken over my workspace.
At first, I only focused on the fundamentals: orbital mechanics, zero-gravity physics, life support systems—each concept carefully broken down, internalized piece by piece. But as the days passed, my hunger for mastery grew insatiable. It wasn't enough to just understand these principles. I had to live them. Every page I turned had to offer something new, something deeper. I found myself drawn into advanced navigation techniques, emergency spacecraft repairs, the intricacies of long-term space habitation. Equations and schematics danced behind my eyes even when I closed them, my thoughts constantly running calculations, testing scenarios.
Every concept had to be absorbed, dissected, understood on an instinctive level. Every skill had to become second nature. Because in space, there were no second chances. And failure—no matter how small—was never an option.
My Absorb ability made things easier—far easier than any normal person could manage. Every book I consumed turned into raw knowledge, neatly stored in my mind, like downloading data into a machine. Formulas became effortless. Engineering schematics turned into instinct. Theoretical physics felt as natural as breathing.
But it wasn't enough.
I needed practical skills too.
Which meant using Copy.
During the few moments I left my office, I roamed the library's halls, observing students, researchers, engineers—anyone with useful skills. I copied what I needed, but only sparingly. Too much would raise suspicion. If I pulled up to an evaluation and they saw me with 10 skills ranging from level 4-5 , as a C-Rank astronaut, questions would be asked.
So I was careful. Calculated. I picked my targets wisely, ensuring a slow, believable progression.
Over time, I was acquiring good skills and improving previous one's as well:
Zero-Gravity Maneuvering (Lv. 4) – Improves movement and coordination in microgravity environments, ensuring efficiency when performing tasks in space.