Northern opened his eyes in the body of his clone, his mind foggy, breath shallow.
A slow dizziness spun behind his eyes as he propped himself up, leaning against the bedframe resting on the wall. He sat there for a few seconds, letting his body catch up with his mind.
Then he looked down, eyes narrowing in silent scrutiny.
"Hmm… so it really was possible…"
Right before his real body succumbed to the strain—on the brink of blacking out—Northern had acted on a wild idea: switching bodies.
It was a gamble. But it worked.
Resting might've been tempting. He hadn't tasted solitude in days, hadn't even paused to let himself breathe. But rest wasn't a luxury he could afford. Not today.
Dawn was breaking.
The final day of the Milhwa Festival had arrived.
And ahead of him: three distinct team battles. That was, of course, assuming he won each one.
But to Northern, that wasn't even a question.
