Author’s Note
Hey everyone!
Thanks for giving The Upgrade Gamer a chance.
This is the first story I’ve ever published, and I’m excited to finally share Traise’s journey with you.
I’ve spent a lot of time building this world, its mysteries, and the challenges waiting ahead, and I hope you’ll enjoy exploring them alongside him.
Whether you’re here for the progression, adventure, companions, or simply to see what happens next, I’m grateful you’re along for the ride.
Feel free to share your thoughts, theories, and feedback as the story unfolds—I love hearing from readers.
Now, let’s begin the adventure!
— GamerPops
An Infernal Colossus towered over the collapsing dungeon chamber, molten lava glowing through the vast cracks that webbed across its stone body.
Every thunderous step sent tremors racing through the arena, shaking loose debris from the ceiling and scattering rock fragments across the battlefield.
Most players would have been overwhelmed by the chaos.
Traise barely noticed it.
His attention remained fixed on the boss itself.
He watched every movement, every subtle shift in posture, every fraction of a second that hinted at what would come next.
The Infernal Colossus wasn’t unpredictable.
It only appeared that way to players seeing the fight for the first time.
To Traise, it was a pattern.
His fingers moved across the keyboard and mouse with practiced precision as his character slipped just beyond the edge of a sweeping attack.
The colossal stone arm crashed into the ground where he had been standing moments earlier, sending molten rock spraying across the chamber.
Before the animation had fully completed, he was already moving.
Damage numbers erupted across the screen.
A series of attacks chained together seamlessly as he pressed the advantage.
The Colossus staggered beneath the assault before recovering and raising both arms toward the ceiling.
Lava surged through the glowing cracks along its body.
Traise didn’t hesitate.
He had seen this attack hundreds of times.
Flames burst from the arena floor in unpredictable patterns, transforming sections of the battlefield into rivers of molten death.
Players unfamiliar with the encounter often panicked here, losing track of positioning while trying to avoid the eruptions.
Traise moved through the chaos almost automatically.
Years of repetition had burned the encounter into memory.
Every dodge, every reposition, every attack window felt less like a decision and more like instinct.
The fight wasn’t easy.
It had stopped being difficult long ago.
The Infernal Colossus completed another attack before briefly exposing its core.
There.
Traise immediately acted.
His character surged forward, abilities activating in rapid succession as the vulnerable opening appeared.
The boss’s health bar dropped another percentage point while warning effects flashed across the edges of the screen.
The Colossus staggered.
Most players would have seen nothing more than a visual cue signaling the next phase of the fight.
To Traise, it was confirmation that everything had unfolded exactly as expected.
The boss’s health dropped into its final sliver while the dungeon collapsed around it.
Molten cracks spread rapidly across its enormous frame, glowing brighter with each passing second as chunks of stone armor broke away and crashed into the arena below.
The entire chamber seemed moments away from destruction, yet Traise’s focus never left the screen.
This was the opening he had spent weeks learning to recognize.
Every failed attempt.
Every adjustment.
Every mistake had led to this moment.
Timing, positioning, and execution finally aligned as his character surged forward for the finishing strike.
If the attack landed, he would accomplish something the entire server believed was impossible.
Soloing the final boss of Ashen Veil Online.
His grip tightened around the mouse as the distance closed.
The Infernal Colossus struggled to recover, molten energy spilling from the fractures covering its body while its remaining health dwindled toward nothing.
One more hit was all it would take.
Traise moved in for the final attack.
That’s when the screen instantly went black.
…..
Traise didn’t move at first.
His hands hovered over the keyboard as the silence settled in, the steady hum of his computer dying along with everything else.
No lights, no sound—just darkness pressing in around him.
He leaned back slowly, staring at the dead monitor as the realization settled in.
A power outage of all things, and right at the end.
And he had been seconds away from victory….
Of course, something like this would happen now.
“Seriously…” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face as the frustration got to him.
It wasn’t just about losing the fight at a crucial moment, it was about being pulled out of the only place where things made sense, his online games.
“I know I was a little late on the utilities, but they can’t just kill the power like that.”
While distracted by the loss of his record and electricity, an odd smell reached his nose.
He frowned, shifting slightly as he sniffed the air again.
At first, it was faint, easy to ignore, but it grew stronger with each breath until it became impossible to miss.
Smoke.
He pushed himself to his feet, scanning the room as he turned, his gaze moving from one corner to another as he searched for the source.
The apartment around him was dim and cluttered, trash littered the counters, dishes lay stacked unevenly in the sink, and food boxes surrounded his desk.
He had gamed for two straight days without sleep while trying to break the boss record, so his apartment was still a mess.
Following his nose, he reached the balcony door and pulled it open slightly, then froze as a burst of orange light flared from the neighboring unit.
“Oh no….”
The glow flared suddenly along the edge of his vision, and when he turned, the neighboring balcony was already engulfed, flames rolling over the railing with nothing to stop them.
There was no divider between the units, no barrier at all—just open space—and he watched, frozen, as the fire stretched toward him, heat rushing across the gap faster than he could process.
A burst of embers carried over in the rising heat as some trash bags and a wooden chair on his balcony caught fire.
For a split second, he didn’t understand what he was seeing—just a flicker of orange, small, almost harmless—until it spread, crawling across the surface of the trash bag near the door.
The plastic warped instantly, shrinking in on itself as the flame took hold.
“Wait—”
The heat surged.
He flinched back instinctively, his foot slipping as he stumbled away from the balcony, falling backward as he tumbled into the apartment through the open door behind him.
For a moment, everything blurred together—light, heat, smoke.
Then the carpet caught fire, spreading from the balcony.
“Crap… where’s that fire extinguisher…” he muttered, stumbling through the apartment in the dark.
Panicking as he couldn’t see anything, he grabbed his jacket before rushing out into the hallway.
Smoke drifted along the ceiling as voices echoed from below, doors slamming open as people flooded toward the stairs.
He followed without thinking, moving faster than he had in a long time as he pushed downward and out.
By the time he reached the street, his lungs burned from inhaling smoke.
He stumbled onto the sidewalk, coughing as he bent forward slightly, trying to catch his breath.
The building behind him glowed with firelight as people gathered nearby, voices rising in panic and screaming for help.
He straightened slowly, glancing around as irritation crept back in, mixing with the adrenaline.
“Where are the fire trucks when you need them…?” he muttered, scanning the street.
Shouldn’t they already be here?
He shifted his weight, still scanning the street for any sign of flashing lights.
His foot caught on the edge of the curb as he stepped back, throwing him off balance.
Before he could recover, his foot slipped as his body tilted backward into the street.
As he fell, bright red and white lights from an emergency vehicle suddenly filled his vision, flashing rapidly as they were just feet from him and getting closer.
I just wanted to finish my game…
The vehicle’s horn could be heard as the sound of tires and brakes sounded out.
And then, it all went black.
…
There was no pain.
No sound.
Just nothingness.
Then—
White.
Endless, empty white stretched in every direction as his awareness returned.
There was no ground, no sky, no sense of direction at all, just a vast, featureless space surrounding him.
“…Am I dead?”
The white space trembled faintly as if something enormous had turned its attention toward him before the answer appeared on a small screen.
[Yes.]
“Wait, who are you?” he asked with confusion.
[You have been chosen to have a second chance at life.]
[Are you brave enough to test your luck?]
Traise stared at the text, his brow furrowing slightly as he thought about it.
“…Second chance?” he repeated quietly.
“You mean like an extra life in games?” His voice echoed strangely in the empty space.
There was no response from the box in front of him.
For a moment, he hesitated.
Then he let out a short sigh, his love of games winning out against his caution.
“…Yeah. Why not. It can’t be worse than my last life.”
The moment he agreed, the space in front of him exploded with colors as a list of names appeared on the screen.
[Random System Assignment in progress…]
System?
Lines of text began scrolling rapidly, faster than he could read, system names flashing one after another in an overwhelming cascade.
The speed increased, the names stretching into streaks of light as the selection spun faster and faster, too quick for him to follow.
The motion became overwhelming, a continuous blur that felt like it lasted far longer than it should have, as if the wheel would never stop.
Then, gradually, the movement began to drag, each rotation growing heavier than the last until individual names started to come back into focus.
It slowed.
And slowed.
Until…
[Congratulations! You have been awarded the Support System]
He stared at it.
Silence settled around him again.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Traise stared at the words.
Support.
His jaw tightened.
His entire life, he had watched other people move forward while he stayed stuck behind a screen.
Games had been the only place where improvement felt real.
Grind long enough, learn the mechanics, and eventually you become stronger.
Support wasn’t strength.
Support meant standing behind someone else while they carried the fight.
He was done with that.
He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
“Support?” he muttered.
“No. Not happening.”
His expression hardened as he looked back at the screen.
“I’m not playing support. I’m done sitting in the background while everyone else gets stronger.”
He crossed his arms, his gaze lifting slightly as if addressing something beyond the empty white space.
“If this is supposed to be a system, then at least make it make sense. I know how this works. You grind, you level, you get stronger. That’s it.”
His voice steadied.
“If this were a real game… I’d be on the front line.”
A faint grin pulled at the corner of his mouth.
“I’d be the strongest.”
The space flickered.
[Are you sure?]
Traise let out a short breath, a faint smirk forming despite everything.
“Yeah,” he said simply.
“I’ll figure it out.”
[Processing…]
[Request Approved]
[Modifying System]
[Error…. ]
[System corruption detected due to incompatibility…]
[Attempting to Restore System Integrity…]
[Modification Complete]
[Warning: Core synchronization unstable]
[Unknown deviations detected]
[New System may still be incomplete…]
[Do you wish to proceed?]
He didn’t hesitate.
“I accept.”
The screen in front of him distorted, rippling as if something inside of it had been rewritten.
The system interface shifted, stabilizing into something new.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
[Verification confirmed.]
[Welcome to The Upgrade System]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
After that, Traise disappeared from the world of white.
…
[Curious… that one’s request broke the system.]
[You allowed it.]
[A request was made. It was within bounds.]
[That was not within bounds.]
[The system adapted.]
[It failed.]
[Not entirely.]
[A flawed System, then?]
[That is yet to be determined.]
[And yet you let it pass?]
[For now.]
[That’s a waste of system resources.]
[There is little difference, at this stage. We require stability for what is approaching.]
[And the flawed corruption that was caused?]
[Corrections for future systems are already underway.]