Primordial Awakening: I Breathe Skill Points!-Chapter 46: Dirty Grandpa! (1)

Chapter 46: Dirty Grandpa! (1)
Dingdong!
The doorbell’s chime cut through Zeph’s dreamless sleep like a knife.
His eyes snapped open, body tensing automatically into combat readiness before his conscious mind caught up with reality. Right. Apartment. Sanctuary. Civilization. No one was trying to kill him.
Probably.
He rolled off the mattress with the fluid grace of someone whose AGI stat was 156, crossed the small space in three strides, and checked the peephole.
Nothing.
Just an empty hallway and a small cardboard box sitting on his doorstep.
’Package delivery. Right. That’s a thing that happens in civilized society.’
Zeph opened the door, scooped up the box—surprisingly light for its size—and retreated back inside, locking the door behind him with the three separate mechanisms he’d installed yesterday.
Old habits died hard.
The box was plain brown cardboard with a shipping label from TechHub Express and a delivery timestamp of 6:47 AM.
’They deliver this early? Damn. Efficient.’
He set it on his small table and just... stared at it for a moment.
A grin spread across his face, wide and genuine and maybe slightly manic.
This was it.
His entry point into the VR gaming world.
His path to making money without risking his life or drawing attention or explaining why a Level 35 nobody could fight like an A-rank veteran.
He’d spent three hours last night researching VR headsets, comparing specs, reading reviews, trying to find the sweet spot between "functional" and "won’t completely drain my savings."
The model he’d settled on was the NeuroLink V7—two generations behind the current V9, discontinued last year, but still perfectly serviceable according to the forums. Full neural interface, compatible with all major VR games, decent processing speed.
And most importantly: on clearance sale for 3,999 credits because retailers wanted to move old stock.
He’d hesitated for exactly twelve seconds before hitting "purchase," watching his credit balance drop from 4,460 to 461.
’Worth it,’ he thought, carefully opening the box with the kind of reverence usually reserved for legendary dungeon drops. ’Absolutely worth it.’
Inside, nestled in protective foam, was the headset.
It was sleeker than he’d expected. Matte black composite material that felt smooth and slightly warm to the touch—probably the mana-infused circuitry maintaining optimal temperature. The visor was tinted dark enough that he couldn’t see through it, with subtle blue accents running along the edges.
The whole thing weighed maybe half a kilogram. Light enough to wear for hours without neck strain.
Zeph lifted it carefully, turning it over in his hands, examining every detail with the focus he usually applied to weapon inspection.
No visible damage. Seals intact. Neural interface pads looked pristine.
’Gently used my ass. This looks brand new.’
He set the headset aside and pulled out the instruction manual—a slim digital tablet that activated the moment his fingers touched it.
NeuroLink V7 - Quick Start Guide
Congratulations on your purchase! The NeuroLink V7 represents cutting-edge virtual reality technology, offering full sensory immersion through safe, System-compatible neural interface.
The manual walked through basic setup: charging requirements (4 hours for full charge), neural calibration process (automatic, takes 30 seconds), safety protocols (maximum 8 hour sessions recommended), and emergency disconnect procedures.
Zeph absorbed it all with the same intensity he’d once applied to raid boss mechanics guides.
’Plug it in. Wait for full charge. Put it on. Press power button. Auto-calibration handles the rest. Simple enough.’
He found the charging cable, connected the headset to the wall outlet, and watched the small LED indicator shift from red to amber.
Charging: 0% → Estimated Time: 4 hours
Four hours.
He could wait four hours.
Absolutely.
Definitely.
’This is fine. I’m a patient person. I’ve survived three years in ruins by being patient and tactical. Four hours is nothing.’
Zeph sat down at his table, staring at the charging headset.
Three minutes passed.
’Okay this is torture.’
He forced himself to stand up, to move around, to do something productive while waiting. But his eyes kept drifting back to that amber light, and his mind kept running through all the games he’d researched last night.
Eternal Battlegrounds - The flagship competitive title. 5v5 tactical combat in fantasy settings. Highest prize pools. Most competitive player base.
Sovereign Skies - Aerial combat simulation. Fast-paced, reaction-focused. Smaller but dedicated community.
Nexus Arena - 1v1 dueling game. Pure skill expression. Popular for showing off mechanical prowess.
Each game had different meta, different skill requirements, different competitive scenes.
And he was about to find out which one matched his strengths best.
’I’m doing this for the money,’ he reminded himself firmly. ’For practical income generation. For establishing a cover identity that doesn’t require explaining my combat abilities.’
’The fact that I genuinely love gaming is just... a convenient bonus.’
’This is training. Skill development. Strategic career planning.’
’Not just me desperately wanting to play games again after three years of survival-focused hell.’
’Definitely not that.’
The amber light continued its slow, mocking progress toward green.
Zeph lasted another two minutes before giving up on patience and diving into more game research on his phone.
-----
Four hours and seventeen minutes later:
The LED turned green.
Charging: 100% → Ready for Use
Zeph practically lunged for the headset, years of scavenger reflexes making the movement smooth despite his eagerness.
He carried it to his mattress like it was a holy relic, settling down carefully, headset cradled in his lap.
’Alright. Moment of truth. Let’s see if VR technology in this world lives up to the hype.’
The manual had been clear about positioning: lie flat on your back, place headset securely, ensure neural interface pads make contact with temples and forehead, press power button.
Zeph followed the instructions precisely, adjusting the headset until it fit snugly without being uncomfortable. The interior padding was surprisingly soft, conforming to his skull shape automatically.
The neural interface pads felt cool against his skin—not cold, just noticeably different temperature. Not unpleasant.
He found the power button on the right side of the headset.
Took a deep breath.
’Here we go.’
Pressed it.
-----
The world dissolved.
Not faded. Not transitioned. Just... stopped existing.
One moment he was lying on his mattress in his apartment, feeling the cheap fabric under his back and hearing the distant sounds of F-District waking up.
The next moment he was standing in infinite white space.
Zeph’s breath caught.
’Holy shit.’
It was exactly like his tutorial dungeon. That same perfect, endless white that hurt to look at directly. That same sense of being nowhere and everywhere simultaneously.
But this wasn’t real.
This was virtual.
And he couldn’t tell the difference!
He looked down at his hands—his virtual hands—and they looked *real*. Not rendered. Not approximated. Real. Every detail of his skin texture, every crease in his palm, every slightly-too-long nail that he kept forgetting to trim.
He touched his face.
Felt it.
Actually felt it.
The sensation of his fingertips against his cheek was identical to physical touch. Temperature, texture, pressure—all perfectly replicated.
’This is insane. This is absolutely insane.’
He jumped experimentally.
Felt the muscles in his legs engage. Felt the moment of weightlessness. Felt the impact when he landed.
’Mana-enhanced neural interface. Full sensory replication. This isn’t just visual immersion, it’s *complete* immersion.’
’In my old world, VR was impressive but you could always tell it wasn’t real. Visual lag, limited haptic feedback, movement restrictions.’
’This? This is indistinguishable from reality!’