"Huh? A newcomer?"
"As expected, it seems there's no limit to how many of us there can be. Welcome, newbie!"
Two figures, each looking exactly like Su Mo but dressed differently, had spotted him and were now casually greeting him.
To most people, suddenly encountering others who look exactly like oneself would be unsettling, even terrifying.
But not Su Mo.
Instead of backing away, he calmly walked up to them.
"You guys are...?"
He was just about to ask, confusion furrowing his brow, when another person stepped forward—a young man dressed in a red-and-white uniform that looked strangely familiar, though Su Mo couldn't quite place it.
The youth clapped a hand on Su Mo's shoulder and said, "Explaining everything would be too much trouble. This way's a lot faster."
His outfit looked like something from a sci-fi special forces unit—white base with red stripes. And the moment his hand touched Su Mo's shoulder, something clicked.
Suddenly, Su Mo felt as if he had experienced a revelation.
A rush of mysterious information surged into his mind—not like something being downloaded from outside, but more like a long-dormant memory awakening from deep within. And just like that, he understood everything.
"So that's it… This is my golden finger!"
Su Mo finally realized what was going on.
"I knew it. Crossing into another world without a cheat would just be cruel!"
"Though honestly, my life wasn't that bad even without one…"
He'd just been running a humble street stall, earning enough each day to go home and cuddle with a certain blue-ribboned goddess.
Honestly, even that was a pretty satisfying life.
Of course, having a cheat power was even better.
Thanks to the flood of knowledge in his head, Su Mo now understood who these two lookalikes were.
They weren't doppelgängers. They were him.
Somehow, when he originally crossed over, it hadn't been to a single world—but to countless different worlds.
And each version of him in those worlds? Still the same Su Mo.
One is all, and all is one.
The exact mechanism was unclear. Maybe, as quantum mechanics might suggest, each version was just a different possibility from the same probability cloud. Or maybe, according to relativity, they were Su Mo from different timelines, each existing independently—somehow converging in this strange foggy space.
The "how" didn't matter.
What mattered was this place—the Fog Space.
A nexus point, where all the countless Su Mos from different worlds could meet.
Here, they could talk to each other, compare notes…
And more importantly?
They could share power.
Whether it was supernatural abilities, magic, physical enhancements, swordsmanship, spiritual energy—even things like cooking or singing skills—everything could be shared.
No conflicts. No rejections. Total synchronization.
Well—everything except their memories.
Each Su Mo remained mentally independent. But when it came to strength?
They were one.
Everyone's memories—those weren't shared.
Only information related to their abilities could be transferred between them.
As for what each version of Su Mo had personally gone through, what they said each day, what they saw and felt—those memories remained completely private.
Most likely, this was a built-in safeguard, a mechanism to protect each person's privacy.
Though really—can it even be called "invasion of privacy" if you're invading your own?
Still, Su Mo appreciated this little feature.
Because the loli goddess Hestia—his Hestia—was something sacred. Something uniquely his. Even the other versions of himself had no right to witness those memories.
Of course, this also meant he couldn't see their personal experiences either.
But that was fine. More than fair, actually.
As long as the power was shared—that was enough.
Nodding in satisfaction, Su Mo was just about to take a moment to feel out the newly awakened strength within his body, when another version of him spoke up.
"So… what kind of world did you end up in?"
This Su Mo was dressed in modern-day casual clothes and looked a bit puzzled as he addressed him.
"I mean, after linking with you, I didn't notice any real power transfer. It's like you're just… a normal guy?"
"I mean, I'm not super powerful either," he added. "But judging by your outfit, the world you landed in shouldn't have been some ordinary setting, right?"
And he wasn't wrong.
Su Mo's current getup had a definite fantasy-adventurer vibe. Light armor, compact weapons—his appearance screamed "combat-ready."
Clearly not someone from a peaceful, mundane world.
So the casual-clothes Su Mo couldn't help but wonder—why did it feel like the guy was just a civilian?
To this question, Su Mo—the one from the DanMachi universe—just smiled. A knowing, mysterious kind of smile.
"Think about it. Really think about it."
"There's definitely a difference."
"Hmm…"
The other two fell silent.
They closed their eyes and focused, diving deep into themselves, trying to perceive even the faintest shift in their abilities.
After a while, the modern-clothes Su Mo gave up with a shrug.
"Nothing. I feel exactly the same."
But the one wearing the red-and-white special forces uniform suddenly opened his eyes, blinking in realization.
"Wait—I think I found it!"
His voice rang out with surprise and excitement.
"What is it? Some deeply buried talent?" asked the one in casual clothes, immediately intrigued.
"Or maybe some rare, never-before-seen ability?"
He couldn't stop himself from guessing.
But the expression on the red-and-white uniform Su Mo's face turned… complicated.
"Not quite," he replied. "The only thing I noticed is…"
He paused.
"My fried rice technique seems to have gotten a lot better."
"...."
"....."
For a moment, the entire plaza went dead silent.
The two other Su Mos stared at the version from the DanMachi world with blank, speechless expressions.
"…So that's it? That's the power we got from you?"
"And what's wrong with that?" the fantasy Su Mo responded, dead serious.
"This is the Su Family's legendary fried rice technique!"
"Legendary?" the one in the red-and-white combat uniform raised an eyebrow, his voice tinged with doubt.
"Since when did our family have a legendary cooking technique?"
"Well of course you wouldn't know," the fantasy Su Mo replied with pride. "Because it's a secret! Passed down through the generations!"
The Su Mo in casual clothes suddenly turned gloomy, his expression darkening.
"…Secret, my ass," he muttered. "You mean that fried rice recipe we googled back in college? From some cooking blog?"
"You literally taught yourself by watching YouTube tutorials!"
He couldn't help but grumble as he remembered how it all started years ago.
"Don't go calling that 'ancestral technique.' You're embarrassing us…"