Path to prosperity a lit.., p.2
Path to Prosperity: A LitRPG Adventure, page 2
The memory stopped short, just as it had that day. Percy had never learned what Old Greg meant to say.
“Wait a moment.” Percy’s eyes widened. “Ego. That’s it!”
He remembered the old man’s lessons about natural Awakenings. While uncommon, they weren’t rare—let alone dangerous. But the birth of an Ego was different. It was dangerous and the sole reason Awakening Stones were so valuable—or so Greg had once mentioned.
He’d never understood why Old Greg would keep an Awakening Stone if it was expensive. They might never have needed much coin, but the stone was clearly worth more than the crumbling hut they called home. Plus, considering how often Greg had said that Egos were more common among nobles and that the chances of a commoner awakening and surviving an Ego’s birth were close to zero, Percy had always struggled to understand why Greg thought they needed one.
Well, not anymore.
Now, it all made sense. Having gone through it himself, Percy finally understood.
The Awakening Stone had never been for Old Greg. Percy himself had been the one in need of the Awakening Stone.
His… Ego had manifested. Or had it?
Percy heaved his drained body from the squeaking bed and stretched. His body felt sore, but that wasn’t surprising. Yesterday’s hunt had kept him running through the forest for most of the day. Other than that, Percy felt the same as always.
Where was the mana? He should be able to feel it. It was supposed to course through his veins and strengthen him. But there was no significant surge of power, and access to mana was still missing.
That was odd. It wasn’t something Old Greg had taught him. Percy had learned so much from the old man and probably forgotten more than he cared to admit. But the crucial lessons were still etched in his mind.
Those lessons were also why Percy dismissed his doubts and focused entirely on the situation ahead—or rather, the object before him.
A vibrant golden coin hovered in the air.
Percy cocked an eyebrow, observing it intently as it rotated slowly around its axis.
“So… you’re my Ego?”
A freezing chill swept through him as his eyes landed on the coin’s backside. The crimson-glowing eyes of a devious face stared back at him, grimacing wildly.
“Well… If that’s not interesting, I don’t know what is…”
2
EGO
His home was small and simple. There were a pair of nightstands and two small, creaking beds. Both sides of the room held an extra set of clothing, though the sets were far from new. They had been cut and ripped dozens of times, then sewn back together and patched with leather from their hunts. Still, Percy often wondered how much longer the clothes would last.
A workbench sat in the corner, holding some tools: makeshift daggers, a bow with arrows, and other hunting essentials. Percy’s eyes landed on a small pouch filled with coins, and he smiled wryly. It wasn’t much, but to him, it was all he needed—until now.
After burying Old Greg, this whole place felt foreign, as if the warmth and familiarity it once held had been stripped away, leaving behind only a hollow shell.
That coin levitating before him, on the other hand? It sent chills down his spine, but he knew it was part of him. Percy had no doubt about that.
The golden coin was still spinning, accelerating steadily until the chill-inducing grimace on its surface was all Percy could see.
“Come to me, my little disgusting Ego,” Percy murmured, ignoring his churning stomach as he reached out. His fingers coiled around the coin, tightening until it came to a sudden halt.
He pulled back and opened his hand to study his Ego, but the palm was empty. All that remained was a faint, barely noticeable sting.
Where did it go—Oh… Ohhh!
Suddenly, a torrent of information flooded his mind, overwhelming his thoughts and shoving his doubts aside. His eyes ached as though seared with hundreds of tiny needles. The pain subsided within seconds, but Percy was too absorbed in the changes to notice. His focus lingered on a small symbol that had appeared in the corner of his vision: the golden coin—his Ego.
“That is interesting,” he murmured.
Old Greg had never spoken fondly of Egos, but Percy recollected dozens of lessons related to them. If his memory served him correctly, the manifestation of an Icon in the corner of one’s vision was common. Then again, Percy didn’t consider his memories to be the most reliable source when it came to Old Greg’s lessons—especially the boring ones he hadn’t bothered listening to. He regretted that now.
Thankfully, the streams of information entering his mind appeared far more reliable than his fragmented recollections. The knowledge settled neatly in Percy’s head, easy to access and seemingly impossible to forget.
After reading snippets of the information streams, Percy focused on the Icon in the corner of his vision. A dark blue screen with intricate letters flashed before his eyes.
『Percy』
[Ego—Coin of Prosperity][Tier][Mortal-0]
[Empty]
“Even the Messenger is telling me I have no family,” Percy mumbled. He should have expected this, but seeing it spelled out so plainly felt odd nonetheless.
He no longer cared. Family wasn’t something he needed anymore.
Old Greg raised me better than any parent could!
He was satisfied with how he had turned out—or at least, he tried to believe that. Everything might have been perfect if the old man hadn’t died. But now, there was no one left to tell him if he was doing enough… or what he should even do.
“What now?” Percy muttered. He had to decide for himself. There was no one to guide him anymore. But what was he supposed to do?
He had an Ego, but there was a problem with his access to mana. How was he supposed to grow stronger without mana to strengthen him? It made little sense, just like his tier being at Mortal-0.
Percy sat back down on the squeaking bed, a groan of frustration escaping his lips.
From what he knew, a Gifted’s tier always began at Mortal-1—the lowest rank that granted access to mana.
Was that why he couldn’t sense mana coursing through him? Because his rank was too low? Percy’s understanding of the ranks was simple: as long as his rank increased, he would gain access to more mana, which would strengthen his body and elevate his natural power to levels ordinary people could never attain.
But what if his rank was too low to access mana even after Awakening?
Is that what happened to me?
Percy wondered.
Considering this possibility, he decided that reviewing the newly imprinted information was the best course of action. It showed him what his Ego could do and hinted at what might be possible in the future.
“Soo… what can I do with you?” he murmured, thinking about his Ego as suggested in the information streams.
To his surprise, a new dark blue screen appeared before him.
『Coin of Prosperity』Prosperity: 0
➛Consume
There wasn’t a detailed description outlining the Coin of Prosperity’s abilities, the meaning of Prosperity, or the function of [Consume]. But that didn’t matter. After all, another stream of information soon entered his mind, engraving everything he needed to know about using his Ego.
The confusion tormenting him faded as understanding dawned. A moment later, Percy activated [Consume] as laid out in the information stream.
Percy’s vision changed as [Consume]’s power activated. Various objects scattered throughout the room appeared different; a faint blue hue enveloped them. He focused intently on the hues and staggered back in surprise as several screens materialized above them.
[Makeshift Dagger—Average Quality—33 Prosperity.]
[Bow—Trash Quality—14 Prosperity.]
[Leather Pouch—Low Quality—1 Prosperity.]
[55x Copper Coins—Ordinary—55 Prosperity.]
…
His head darted left and right, his eyes bulging as more screens appeared. Even his clothes were shrouded in a dimly glowing hue. He turned and rushed outside, his gaze falling on the nearest shrub. It didn’t glow.
He sighed in relief.
“The information streams were correct,” Percy noted. Those shrubs and trees around the hut didn’t belong to him, so they weren’t shrouded in a hue.
His eyes drifted to the wooden hut, which wasn’t shrouded either. “That… I don’t understand.”
Apparently, he was supposed to be able to [Consume] everything he owned. The devoured objects should transform into Prosperity points, which could then be used somehow—at least, that was what the information streams taught Percy.
As for why the wooden hut wasn’t considered one of his belongings, he had no idea. If it had belonged to Old Greg, Percy would have had nothing in his possession to [Consume]. But that was not the case. Almost everything, including the old man’s bed, bow, and clothes, could be devoured by his Ego.
To test his theory, Percy returned inside. He reached for Old Greg’s clothes but halted. Instead, he walked over to the workbench and grasped one of his tools. Percy triggered [Consume] again, seeking distraction from the thoughts lingering in his mind.
Whether that was the mistake or something else, he would probably never find out. As he touched the tool, something stirred inside him. A cracking noise reverberated through the wooden hut before something burst from his palm. Percy struggled to put things into words because everything happened so fast. All he could see were darkness and rows of teeth.
A moment later, Percy’s mind turned blank, and the world around him went dark.
When everything returned to normal, Percy found himself on the ground. The tool resting in his hand was no more. Instead, he faced a new dark blue screen.
[Goods worth 151 Prosperity have been consumed.]
Something had gone wrong—terribly wrong. Percy was certain the tool was worth six Prosperity, yet the screen displayed an absurd number. His heart pounded as a cold sweat broke over his skin, the memory of those dark, toothy rows flashing vividly in his mind.
“Fuck me,” he cursed as doubts took root.
He stared at his hand, but nothing pounced at him, no matter how long he waited. There wasn’t even lingering pain—something he’d expected after the resounding cracking.
He swallowed hard and got up, his lips pressed together. Percy sighed deeply, realizing his doubt had been correct. [Consume] had not only devoured one of his tools, it had taken everything.
There was no sign of the leather pouch or the copper coins. Percy couldn’t find his bow, the quiver with arrows, or the makeshift dagger. Not even the broken nightstand, tattered clothes, or his tools had been spared. Even his bed was gone.
Most of his belongings were worn, broken, or torn, but each held meaning to Percy. He couldn’t believe they were gone, especially Old Greg’s clothes. The black thing had consumed them as well, leaving him with an empty wooden hut that didn’t seem to belong to… anyone.
Percy clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm, though his chest tightened and his heart hammered as if it was about to break. He had not only lost the old man today but also everything else. Only the clothes he was wearing remained. Losing the old man’s clothes was bad, but clothes were just that. Keeping them wouldn’t resurrect Old Greg. As long as he kept the old man in his heart, everything would be all right.
He had other pressing issues to take care of. The lack of coins was one thing. There was no need to pay rent for the wooden hut since it wasn’t part of the nearest settlement. However, hunting had become increasingly difficult—and dangerous—in the last few months. This forest wasn’t the same anymore. The monsters had grown stronger, forcing him to move more cautiously. Each hunt was riskier than the last, and his dwindling returns showed how dangerous things had become for an ordinary hunter.
After all, he was just an ordinary young man trying to hunt monsters strengthened by mana.
That was why he’d considered traveling to the nearest town to buy food and medicine when Old Greg fell ill. He couldn’t take care of Old Greg while being out all day trying his luck in the forest.
Now, Old Greg was dead, and his great fortune of copper coins was no longer with him.
Percy considered it a small mercy that he wasn’t given any more time to sulk. Another notification popped up.
[Your tier increased by one rank.]
As his eyes drifted across the notification’s intricate letters, Percy felt something shift within him.
He could breathe easier, his heart stopped racing irregularly, and the soreness that gripped his body began to fade. It was as if his body decided to relax before opening itself to welcome something foreign. His hair stood on end, and the urge to flee briefly crossed his mind. But he stayed in the hut, allowing an unknown force to enter his body freely. It felt strange, but maybe this was how it should be.
A fresh breeze—or was it a stream?—entered his body and coursed through him. It washed away exhaustion and left Percy feeling reinvigorated.
That’s it. That’s how it’s supposed to be!
A bright smile blossomed on his lips.
So that’s how mana feels? Like a cold, prickly gust?
It felt incredible to finally experience mana, to finally understand what Old Greg had praised so often. Advancing his tier wasn’t just a surprise—it was a relief. He was finally on equal footing with other Gifted at their awakening. At least, he hoped he was.
Suddenly, a loud rumbling echoed through the wooden hut. Percy’s stomach growled loudly.
“That’s going to be an issue,” he mumbled, tapping his roaring stomach as he turned toward the door. The early morning sunlight streamed through the hut’s small window, illuminating the sparse interior—not that there was much left to illuminate. His hunting tools were gone, and he was penniless.
Increasing his tier didn’t seem to be very nourishing. If anything, gaining access to mana might have been the reason he was this hungry in the first place.
“Eating Prosperity would be nice,” he joked, casting [Consume] on Prosperity on a whim.
He had 151 Prosperity points available. Surely, they had to be useful for something, whether earning coins or improving his odds against the forest’s monsters.
How annoying, Percy grumbled inwardly.
There was a small problem with his Ego. The information streams had been helpful, but they only revealed how to perform the most basic tasks with his newfound power. The theory seemed etched into his mind, leaving him to experiment with the practical side.
His first use of [Consume] had made that painfully clear. It worked as described, but the process was far from straightforward. If it weren’t, Percy would never have let his Ego devour his hunting tools in the first place.
As he activated [Consume], silverish-golden threads materialized around him, shimmering faintly in the air. He blinked, momentarily stunned, his eyes following the threads as they emerged. They appeared to connect to his belongings, including his clothes. No—there were even more threads.
His gaze drifted back to the small window overlooking Old Greg’s grave. It had happened several times in the last few minutes—glancing toward the grave, hoping for one final piece of guidance from the old man.
Percy’s eyes landed on the worn shovel, noticing the silverish-golden threads connecting to it.
“The threads are thicker,” he observed, his mind racing as he stepped outside.
Approaching the grave, Percy reached for that shovel—the only tool he had left. The threads connected to his clothes were hair-thin and seemed incredibly fragile. He didn’t dare touch them, fearing they might snap. The shovel, however, was different. He grasped it firmly, his fingers brushing the thread linked to the shovel’s head.
[Iron Shovel’s head has been enhanced. 50 Prosperity has been deducted.]
Percy winced as his Prosperity points dropped to 101. His heart ached at the realization that a third of his resources had been drained to upgrade an old shovel.
Still, he pushed aside his displeasure, ignoring the churning in his empty stomach, and focused on the changes to this shovel instead.
The silverish-golden thread connected to the shovel’s head now enveloped it entirely, flashing several times. Percy shut his eyes, groaning, but quickly reopened them to inspect the transformation.
The once-brittle edges of the shovel’s head appeared fortified, almost new. It looked as though a master blacksmith had replaced the old, worn iron with something far superior. Only the same half-rotten wooden shaft betrayed its age.
A shudder ran down Percy’s spine. Had he done that with his Ego?
That’s amazing!
Eyes glued to the shovel’s head, Percy picked a spot on the ground and thrust his shovel into the soil. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but the blade sliced through the dirt effortlessly. There was no resistance until the iron head was fully submerged.
“Amazing!” he exclaimed, pulling his shovel free.
The wooden shaft creaked and cracked, but Percy merely smiled. He used [Consume] on Prosperity again, watching as another handful of thin, silverish-golden threads appeared.
This time, he picked one of the threads connected to the wooden shaft.
[Iron Shovel’s durability has been enhanced. 30 Prosperity has been deducted.]
Another shiver ran through Percy as the threads coiled around the wooden shaft. His skin prickled, his breath hitched—and then, with a burst of light, it was done. When the light faded, the wooden shaft appeared transformed. It looked reinforced, almost new, though faint cracks and imperfections remained.
The earlier disappointment evaporated. More than half of his Prosperity points were gone, but the revelation of his Ego’s potential was definitely worth the cost.
His heart raced with excitement, and for the first time that morning, Percy felt a spark of hope for the future.
3
HUNT
Percy’s stomach roared relentlessly, dampening his excitement.
