Chapter 20: Attribute Status Increase Below D Level—
“That’s about it,” I replied lightly. “Oh, should I return your pan now, or after you get back from the amusement park with Peter?”
I deliberately shifted the conversation to something more casual. Talking about ordinary, everyday matters felt far safer than letting the silence stretch into something heavier—something that might force us to confront what neither of us was ready to address.
“Later is fine. Well then, see you later, Dante,” May answered.
May gently clasped Peter’s hand, her fingers wrapping around his small palm with effortless warmth. The gesture was instinctively maternal—natural, protective, and full of quiet care. Peter walked beside her in tiny, eager steps, almost bouncing with excitement as if he could barely contain himself. At one point, he even turned back and gave me a quick little wave before spinning forward again, tugging May along slightly faster toward the road.
I remained where I stood, watching their backs gradually grow smaller in the soft morning light.
“It seems May still remembers what happened last night when I unconsciously patted her head… haah, why did I do something that foolish? Did my old habits really follow me into this world?” I muttered under my breath.
My voice was nearly swallowed by the stillness of the morning. A thin yet unmistakable trace of embarrassment scraped against my chest, making my breathing feel slightly heavier than it should have been. The memory of that brief touch replayed itself in my mind—too familiar, too spontaneous. It had been a reflex, something ingrained from a different life. I let out a long sigh, trying to dispel the image, though the lingering awkwardness clung stubbornly to me.
Turning away, I stepped back into the house. The door closed softly behind me, cutting off the faint sounds from outside and sealing me inside the quiet simplicity of the room. Morning sunlight streamed through the living room window, casting slender golden lines across the wooden floor.
Without wasting time, I headed straight to the bathroom.
Cold water from the shower struck my skin, making me flinch for a split second before my body adjusted. The refreshing sensation slowly washed away the sweat and fatigue from my earlier training session. Droplets ran from my hair down to my shoulders, then fell onto the tiled floor with a soft, rhythmic sound.
It felt as though the water was rinsing more than just my body—it was clearing the slight clutter in my mind as well.
After finishing, I put on a light brown T-shirt and dark bluish-black shorts. The clothes were simple and comfortable, loose enough to move freely. The fabric still felt cool against my freshly dried skin, sending a faint chill that quickly faded into comfort.
I then made my way to the kitchen.
With movements born from habit, I set rice to cook and fried an egg. The oil sizzled gently as the egg touched the pan, the white spreading and solidifying while the yolk remained intact at the center. The aroma of cooking egg filled my small kitchen—simple, warm, and for some reason, always capable of bringing a quiet sense of peace.
The earlier sharp hiss of oil gradually softened, replaced by the savory scent that teased my appetite. Thin steam rose from the freshly cooked rice, faintly misting the cool morning air.
I sat down and began to eat.
Each bite filled the hollow space in my stomach, restoring the energy I had spent earlier. There was no luxurious side dish, no complicated seasoning—just warm rice and a fried egg. Yet it was precisely that simplicity that made it comforting.
When I finished, I took a glass of water and drank until my thirst faded. The cool liquid slid down my throat, leaving behind a soothing freshness.
With my stomach full and my body feeling lighter, I leaned back for a moment before finally calling out to the System.
“Spiderman System! Open daily missions!” I said firmly.
My voice sounded steady, like someone ready to receive a report. A faint sense of curiosity stirred within me, mixed with quiet anticipation. It felt like waiting for the results of a match I was confident I had won—only the reward remained to be revealed.
In front of me, blue holographic text materialized in midair. Its translucent glow shimmered softly, the letters neatly arranged and perfectly clear as they floated silently before my eyes.
[Daily Mission: Perform 1000 Push-Ups, 1000 Sit-Ups, 1000 Squat Jumps, Run 1000 Meters 10 Times]
[Completion Condition: Push-Ups: 1000/1000. Sit-Ups: 1000/1000. Squat Jumps: 1000/1000. 1000-Meter Run: 10/10]
[Reward: Attribute Status Enhancement Below Level D---]
[Mission Status: Completed]
I read each line slowly, making sure not a single number was overlooked. Everything had been fulfilled. There were no shortages. No mistakes.
My brow furrowed slightly.
The listed reward sounded tempting, yet it also felt vague. “Attribute Status Enhancement Below Level D---.” The sentence was too broad, too ambiguous, like a promise wrapped in fog.
“But how do I use the Attribute Status Enhancement?” I asked, confusion lacing my voice.
Although the system looked advanced and futuristic, its explanations were often frustratingly brief. It never truly provided additional guidance unless I asked directly. It felt like using a smart device that only responded to precise keywords—nothing more, nothing less. No initiative. No hints.
The hologram flickered softly before a new line appeared.
[You only need to select the attribute you wish to enhance]
“I see…!” I muttered under my breath, barely louder than a whisper, as my fingers moved to open the status screen.
My voice echoed faintly within the narrow room, illuminated only by the dim glow of a desk lamp. The shadows of simple furniture—a metal-framed bed, an old wooden wardrobe, and thin curtains swaying gently in the night breeze—stretched faintly along the walls. The air felt cold against my skin, yet my palms were damp with a thin layer of sweat.
My heartbeat quickened, as if something was about to erupt from behind the holographic interface slowly forming before me. A soft bluish light radiated outward, cutting through the darkness of the room with a cold, unfamiliar glow.
[Spiderman System]
[Name: Dante Arashi]
[Earth: 76]
[Strength: E+]
[Speed: E+]
[Endurance: E+]
[Agility: E++]
[Reflexes: E++]
[Intelligence: E] (+)
[Skills: Bio-Electrostatic Adhesion: 2 (0/1000). Organic Webbing: 2 (9/1000). Spider-Sense: 0 (0/10). Accelerated Healing Factor: 1 (49/100). Enhanced Immunity: 0 (0/10). Superhuman Balance: 1 (83/100).]
The text shimmered like a digital panel from a science fiction film, rows of glowing letters and numbers radiating faint light. They remained steady, yet somehow felt alive, as if quietly observing me in return.
The transparent screen hovered at chest level, close enough that I could see my own reflection on its surface—my face paler than usual, faint dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, and a lingering confusion that had not fully faded since I woke up in this world.
“Spiderman System… what exactly are you? And why is Intelligence the only attribute that can be enhanced?” I asked, staring sharply at the rows of status values.
My eyebrows drew together, lips parting slightly as irritation began creeping up from my chest. It felt like standing before a great opportunity, yet being unable to grasp it. The dissatisfaction came suddenly, pricking at my thoughts like an unanswered question demanding clarity.
A few seconds later, new text materialized on the screen, its letters arranged neatly and without emotion.
[One Attribute Status Enhancement Below Level D--- is required for an E attribute to reach E+. Two Attribute Status Enhancements Below Level D--- are required for E+ to reach E++. Three Attribute Status Enhancements Below Level D--- are required for E++ to reach E+++. After that, a far superior Attribute Status Enhancement is required.]
The system’s voice echoed flatly inside my mind—monotone, mechanical, devoid of empathy. The explanation was long and rigid, like reading a user manual that did not care whether its reader understood or not.
“…Why didn’t you say that yesterday?” I grumbled, my annoyance now more audible in the silent room. “If you had, I could’ve obtained two Attribute Status Enhancements Below Level D--- from yesterday’s daily mission! Ah… right. I forgot—you’re not exactly responsive. Damn it.”
I let out a long breath and lightly smacked my forehead. It felt like scolding a virtual assistant that deliberately chose silence when crucial information was needed. My shoulders felt heavy—not from physical exhaustion, but from the late-arriving sting of regret.