Kim Geon held the suit in his hands and asked,
“Is this... my partner item?”
“Yes. Normally, it takes this form as a sphere, and I’ve decided to call it a Suit Ball,” Su-ho replied.
“Suit Ball?”
“Yes. For now, try checking the item information,” Su-ho suggested.
Following his advice, Kim Geon examined the information about the suit. The moment he read the second line, his eyes widened in shock.
“W-wait a minute. This... this is an S-rank item!”
“Yes, which is why it was hard to obtain. It’s a very rare item.”
“W-why would you give me something so precious?”
“I promised, didn’t I? I told you I’d find you a job. I want you to work as a Hunter, and there’s nothing better suited to you than this. So, why don’t you try it on?”
“This?”
“Yes. The item information says it’s compatible with your possession ability. Using it is simple—possess the suit just like you would possess your brother’s body. Once you do, everything else will come naturally.”
“...Naturally?”
Kim Geon hesitated for a moment, fidgeting with the Suit Ball in his hands before finally nodding as if he had made up his mind.
“Understood.”
After a brief pause, Kim Geon placed the Suit Ball on the empty bed and used his possession ability. His body visibly relaxed as the Suit Ball began to glow, signaling a successful possession.
Su-ho quietly observed as the ball started to change.
And soon, it began to move.
The Suit Ball expanded, forming a human-like shape reminiscent of clay spreading out. Gradually, the shape took on the appearance of an assassin with a classic, almost retro design. However, it remained a monochromatic clay figure with a blackish-purple hue, lacking any real details.
Finally—
Flash!
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A bright yellow light radiated from its eyes, and Kim Geon’s consciousness successfully settled into the suit. At that moment, the mannequin-like stiffness of the suit disappeared, and it began to move fluidly, like a real human body.
“...”
Seated within the suit, Kim Geon began to move his hands cautiously, examining them as if to confirm they were real. Slowly, he clenched his fists, marveling at the smooth and natural motion.
“Hunter...,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion, so overwhelmed that tears seemed to gather at the edges of his words.
Su-ho smiled. “How does it feel?”
“It’s... amazing. It feels like it’s my own body.”
“I’m glad you’re satisfied.”
“This is more than satisfaction. I’m so moved I could cry...,” Kim Geon admitted.
He was sincere. Until now, he had lived with the guilt of borrowing his brother’s body. But now, with this suit, he could enjoy freedom without burdening his brother.
Su-ho continued, “If it feels that good already, then you’ll be glad to know there are two modes in the suit. Have you discovered them yet?”
“Yes, there’s a first-person mode and a third-person mode.”
“You’re in first-person mode now, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Try switching to third-person mode.”
“Third-person... mode? Oh, oh!”
The moment Kim Geon switched to third-person mode, his surprise deepened. The reason was simple. While first-person mode felt similar to his usual possession ability, third-person mode presented a control interface eerily familiar to him.
“This... This is... Ops, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s similar to the Ops control UI,” Su-ho confirmed.
And it truly was.
In third-person mode, Kim Geon’s perspective shifted. He wasn’t just controlling a body anymore; he was a “player,” observing and commanding the suit as if it were a character in a video game—specifically, in Over Strike, a game he knew all too well.
“That’s why I had to get the Tri-Core Device,” Su-ho explained. “The third-person mode of the Meta Suit adapts to the user’s most familiar control environment. I was certain that for you, it would mimic the Over Strike system.”
“This... This can’t be real....”
“See for yourself. I’m sure it even includes a keyboard and mouse setup. And look at the suit’s design—it’s modeled after your main character from Over Strike, isn’t it? The assassin, ‘Kenji’?”
“Y-yes. When it asked me to imagine a familiar form, I instinctively thought of Kenji....”
“I bet it even replicates Kenji’s basic skills and movements. Maybe not the special effects, but the motions should be identical. Try it out.”
At Su-ho’s encouragement, Kim Geon began controlling the suit, fully immersing himself in the familiar mechanics.
And sure enough, Kenji’s movements—fluid and precise—came to life through the suit. It was a flawless recreation of the assassin’s iconic playstyle, leveraging shortcuts and commands that only someone with Kim Geon’s intimate knowledge of the character could execute.
“Kenji truly is unparalleled. As someone who used to play Over Strike, seeing Kenji in real life feels nostalgic,” Su-ho remarked.
“Haha... It’s like a dream. It feels exactly like playing Ops, but my character is moving in the real world....”
“You realize, right? Kenji is just the beginning. You can transform into any character—or anything, for that matter. Want to give it a try? You know how, don’t you?”
“Yes, give me a moment.”
Kim Geon experimented with the suit’s transformation ability. Moments later, the suit shifted, and standing before Su-ho was an exact copy of himself.
“Did you do this on purpose?” Su-ho chuckled, amused.
“Haha, well, you’re right in front of me, so it was easy to replicate your appearance. I hope you’re not offended.”
“Not at all. In fact, I was going to suggest you try mimicking me at some point. However, you haven’t quite figured out how to replicate colors yet, have you?”
“Give me another moment.”
Kim Geon adjusted the suit further, and soon, the blackish-purple hue disappeared, replaced by a perfect replication of Su-ho, down to the last detail.
“How does it look?” Kim Geon asked.
“Perfect. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I had a twin,” Su-ho replied, handing him a mirror.
“Wow...” Kim Geon muttered in awe.
“Now that you’re familiar with the controls, let’s move on to business. I’d like to hire you, Kim Geon.”
“Hire me? You mean, personally?”
“Yes, that’s why I got you this partner item.”
With the Meta Suit, Kim Geon was arguably one of the most versatile operators Su-ho knew. He could adapt to any role—damage, defense, or assassination—thanks to the suit’s ability to change forms and its lack of traceable biological signatures like fingerprints or hair.
Su-ho continued, “Of course, the employment would be unofficial. As you know, I’m currently a civil servant. First, I’ll help you register with Nexus, and then I’ll contract your services through them. What do you think?”
“You’re serious? How could someone like me possibly help you...?”
“You’d be a great help. As someone committed to ending the Gate crisis, I’m always in need of capable people. And rest assured, the pay will be more than satisfactory. Additionally...” Su-ho glanced at Kim Geon’s bedridden brother, Kim Gwon. “When my healing abilities advance enough, I’ll ensure your brother is the first person I heal.”
Kim Geon’s eyes widened.
“My brother... He can be healed?”
“Modern medicine can’t help him, but a healer with transcendent abilities could.”
“I searched everywhere for someone like that, but even the best healers couldn’t cure coma patients...”
“They were using the wrong methods. Just like diseases require specific treatments, healers have different skills suited for various conditions.”
It wasn’t a lie. A saint in Russia, Isabella, had once successfully healed a vegetative patient.
‘I just need to replicate her method.’
Shaken by Su-ho’s words, Kim Geon took a moment to gather himself before answering firmly.
“If you hire me, I’ll give it my all.”
“Great. Then let’s start by heading to Nexus Academy for your registration test.”
“Test? How long will it take? I can’t leave my brother unattended for too long...”
At that moment, the doorbell rang. Su-ho smiled.
“It’s the helpers I called to take care of your brother while you’re away. Let’s get going.”
Together, they left for the Nexus Academy.