Choose the correct course of action when you’re sitting at a dining table, browsing a gallery, and suddenly get hit in the back of the head with a boomerang.
Had Agnes been a ‘sang-yeoja’ (TL Note: A Korean slang term for a strong, assertive woman), a one-two punch would have instantly initiated a UFC match, but she was a woman brimming with feminine hormones.
In that moment, a surge of emotion overwhelmed her, and tears of injustice welled up.
‘Why did I deserve to be struck from behind?’
“What do you think you’re doing? How dare you just smack someone in the back of the head without warning?”
“I’m the one who got hit hard in the back of the head, you wench.”
Crisella, whose thoughts had been consumed by the newbie all day.
She had gone to sleep, only to wake up and find the newbie had tossed aside the boomerang and was now using a yo-yo.
To make matters worse, Agnes was overtly flirting, asking, “Shall I teach you how to use a yo-yo?”
The situation was far too disastrous to calmly suggest hearing their side of the story.
To draw a romantic analogy, it was akin to walking in on your boyfriend and your friend naked and embracing on a bed, then attempting to initiate a conversation with, “Could you perhaps explain what just happened?”
Agnes, for her part, felt equally wronged.
‘I didn’t force the newbie to use a yo-yo; they were the one who brought it out first, exuding a suggestive aura and tempting me!’
‘And you dare strike me in the back of the head without even hearing my explanation?’
‘The more she dwelled on it, the hotter her temper flared.’
Her anger escalated in a gradual crescendo, and the temperature in her head steadily rose.
Ultimately, she pulled out her yo-yo.
This signaled her readiness for battle.
“I’ve been bored lately, and you’re just what I needed. I’ll tie you up tightly with string and hang you from the top of the city gate.”
“Are you glaring at the Commander-in-Chief from atop the ramparts? Are you an undead spy? Perhaps I should send you to the interrogation chamber.”
Thus began the grand showdown between two of the continent’s Ten Greats.
Bang!
One wielded a boomerang, the other a yo-yo, yet both were such formidable masters that their clash sounded akin to two tank divisions engaging in battle.
Parts of the fortress wall crumbled, and alarm bells rang out from all directions.
Soldiers rushed in en masse.
“What’s happening!”
“Is it an attack?”
“It’s the Ten Greats! A battle between the Ten Greats!”
“Don’t come any closer! You’ll be cut by the spiderwebs!”
Crisella shouted a warning at the top of her lungs.
The area around the dining hall was already completely enveloped by a barrier woven from yo-yo strings.
Should any soldiers with inferior qi cultivation approach, they would undoubtedly be sliced into ham.
“You crazy b*tch! Are you casting deadly techniques inside the fortress?”
“Who was it that plucked the whiskers from a sleeping lion’s nose?”
“Not a lion, more like a stray cat!”
Agnes was not affiliated with the Guardians.
She was simply visiting as an acquaintance of the Commander-in-Chief.
Agnes called herself an adventurer, though, to put it less kindly, she was essentially a jobless bum.
Crisella had long harbored a slight disapproval of Agnes, who possessed immense power yet refused to dedicate herself to humanity.
“How long will you live so aimlessly? You’re twenty-five; it’s time to settle down and get a proper job!”
“Where else would you find a job as proper as an adventurer’s? Are your brains rotting away from being stuck in the North, constantly clearing out corpses?”
The soldiers were utterly bewildered.
Crisella, who had graduated at the top of her academy class, followed an elite path, and achieved endless promotions to become the Commander-in-Chief of the Guardians.
And Agnes, who had graduated second in the same class, successfully completed countless adventures, and proudly earned her place among the Ten Greats.
No one had expected these two to bicker and fight each other in such a manner.
Twenty-five-year-olds shouldn’t be fighting like this.
It was as if they had reverted to their fifteen-year-old selves, back when they first met at the academy.
Rumble!
As Crisella stirred Agnes’s barrier with a boomerang enhanced by her internal energy, it wasn’t the boomerang or the yo-yo strings that broke, but the fortress itself.
Due to the strings tied to its pillars, the fortress’s columns were collapsing.
“Commander! This fight must stop! The entire wall will collapse!”
“Oh, it seems you have much to protect, don’t you? I, however, am free.”
“Shall I make you a wanted criminal? You know how grave a crime it is to destroy a Guardian’s fortress, right?”
“I merely tied the strings. You’re the one pulling them and causing the collapse.”
“Save those pathetic excuses for the courtroom!”
The soldiers, not daring to intervene, could only watch as the fortress slowly crumbled.
Indeed, witnessing the battle of the continent’s strongest warriors seemed to broaden their horizons and elevate their martial arts understanding, even if they were merely spectators.
Their workplace, however, was collapsing.
“This reminds me of our academy days.”
“In the end, I was the top graduate from the academy!”
“That was only because of your written scores! I performed better in practicals!”
“Is being a blockhead something to be proud of?”
Indeed.
Martial artists, at their core, are not unlike thugs.
It’s a miracle if they follow a sensible path and become something like a soldier, as Crisella did.
One should be grateful if they don’t fall into a darker route and become an assassin.
Crisella and Agnes continued their battle for nearly half a day, leaving the fortress walls severely damaged.
The rampart, which had admirably withstood undead assaults for millennia, was now shattered by the antics of two humans.
Fortunately, nothing worse occurred, as the undead commanders who witnessed their battle dared not order an assault.
Having fought from morning until evening, the two finally ceased their battle once hunger began to set in.
Agnes wiped a liquid from her forehead with her arm and spoke.
“It feels refreshing to have worked up such a sweat after so long.”
“That’s not sweat; it’s blood.”
Corrected on the fact, Agnes pointed to Crisella’s mouth.
“And you? One would think you’re having a period through your mouth. Wipe your chin.”
“Ugh. Of all the comparisons. You filthy wretch.”
A faint smile touched both their lips.
‘Once the fight ends, friends they become!’
Of course, they had been friends all along.
Engaging in an equal battle with a worthy rival, shedding some sweat and drawing a little blood, had refreshingly dissipated all their accumulated stress.
Feeling much better, the two went to dinner together.
In reality, as Commander-in-Chief, Crisella had no direct involvement with menial labor.
It was the soldiers who would have to repair the ruined fortress.
Tears began to stream from the soldiers’ eyes.
****
The two, slightly tipsy from drinks during their dinner, finally reached a dramatic resolution.
They had made a dramatic compromise, confessing that they both liked the newbie and agreeing to teach them equally, splitting the time.
–Sorry, I’m tired of boomerangs and yo-yos now.
–Whips are more fun these days.
In that short time, the newbie’s interest had waned, and they were already moving on to find a new “victim.”
“Damn it, they used my support and then dumped me!”
“You got played!”
A few days later, the Martial God newbie was bestowed the honorable title of ‘Gimugael Meokbeonam’ (TL Note: A Korean slang term from ‘Gimugael Gallery’ meaning ‘one who uses and abandons’ for personal gain) by the Gimugael Gallery users.
****
‘Meokbeonam, huh.’
‘The nuance of that word is quite something.’
‘I enjoyed it, and you all enjoyed it. Isn’t that enough?’
Truthfully, I had never been able to consistently delve deep into one thing.
While I could easily perform above average at anything I tried, nothing ever truly captivated me.
I lacked the persistence and tenacity to stick with a single endeavor.
For instance, in a fighting game with 150 diverse heroes, I couldn’t commit to consistently mastering one; I’d switch heroes every three matches.
My inability to study consistently meant I got into a university within Seoul, but not one considered top-tier.
My future remained quite ambiguous, with no clear path in sight.
Perhaps a future awaited me where I’d acquire whatever certifications I could, take any job I landed, and then endure a small, shitty company as if being tortured?
‘Should I try acting?’
Now, however, I’m confident I could live quite well just by relying on this face alone.
‘My aptitude.’
‘It seems to suit me quite well, doesn’t it?’
My time spent lurking in the Gimugael Gallery these past few days made me realize I quite enjoy people’s attention, more than I’d thought.
Perhaps I hadn’t realized it before because I’d never received so much attention.
Isn’t the quality of an attention-seeker (TL Note: ‘Gwanjong’ is a Korean slang term for someone who craves attention) simply another way of expressing the quality of a star?
[Compensation demanded from the Meokbeonam] This Meokbeonam newbie is truly ridiculous lolol
:To think they’d even take the internal energy cultivation technique and run lolol
It’s as hard as plucking a star from the sky to get a proper cultivation technique.
Most are tied to sects or organizations, making sharing inherently impossible.
And they just took something so precious and ran? lololol
–Didn’t take and run.
–Just temporarily put it on the back burner.
–That’s exactly ‘meokbeo,’ you damn bastard.
‘Honestly, this is why the Gimugael Gallery users are such a problem.’
‘First, they claimed that when they offered gifts, it wasn’t out of ill intent, but merely a gesture of goodwill, like a ‘somae neoki’ (TL Note: A Korean term for subtly slipping a gift into someone’s sleeve).’
‘But now, just because I picked up a different weapon, they’re screaming about being “meokbeo-ed” and all sorts of things.’
‘Come on, don’t make the newbie out to be some weirdo.’
‘We still have our memories.’
‘Our time together was precious.’
‘Isn’t that enough?’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘Huh?’
‘I should probably lie low for a while.’
Lately, there have been unsettling movements in the Gimugael Gallery.
Specifically, attempts to uncover my identity and whereabouts are constantly being detected.
Fortunately, I haven’t leaked any clues, not even a single verification photo, let alone a hint that I’m from Earth.
The chances of them finding me are infinitesimally close to zero, yet if I continue to frequent the gallery, I might inadvertently reveal something.
Let’s wait until the ‘Meokbeonam’ nickname fades and the gallery users’ anger cools down.
“Hey! Are you really going to go out dressed like that?”
As I sat leisurely on my bed, gathering the qi within my body, an uninvited intruder burst into my sanctuary and began to criticize my attire.
“What does it matter? I’ll just cover it with my padded jacket anyway.”
It was still cold January.
My logic dictated that since any outfit would ultimately be hidden by a padded jacket, there was no need to care about what was worn underneath.
Besides, I wasn’t wearing pajamas; I had on a perfectly respectable tracksuit, making it entirely suitable as outerwear.
“I’d be too embarrassed to be seen with you like that. I can’t let you.”
“Oh, this wench?”
My younger sister suddenly pounced on me, stripping off all my clothes.
I momentarily considered resisting but then gave up, fearing I might accidentally break her bones if I misjudged my strength.
‘She’s too scrawny for her own good.’
“Mom gave birth to you so beautifully; dressing like that is a crime, a crime!”
‘It wasn’t Mom who made me beautiful, but the Martial God’s Bone Cleansing and Body Transformation, wasn’t it?’
‘The son Mom gave birth to was just an ordinary-looking commoner.’
“Should I take wearing a mini-skirt in this weather as an assassination attempt against me?”
“Fashion always demands sacrifice.”
‘Why do you get to decide my sacrifices?’
Thus, forcibly transformed into a woman meticulously dressed for an outing, I gazed into the mirror and nodded.
“I don’t know who that person is, but they’re truly beautiful. Should I try to get their number?”
“If you’re going to use that face so carelessly, just give it to me.”
“If you cultivate internal energy for three thousand years and reach the Martial God’s realm, you might attain this level of beauty. Always strive for improvement.”
“That’s not funny at all.”
‘It wasn’t a joke.’
‘I was giving advice with 100% sincerity.’
Having been kidnapped by my mother and sister to the hypermarket, I made a dramatic escape upon meeting Young-soo.
“I’ll hang out with them for a bit, then rejoin you!”
“Have a great date!”
“Right. Right.”
‘Getting flustered and exclaiming, ‘We’re not like that!’ here would be amateurish.’
‘What kind of third-rate rom-com reaction is that? It makes no sense.’
‘After all, ‘date’ is a word that can be used not only between lovers but also with family, and probably even friends.’
‘So I said it casually, but why is this bastard stunned?’
I chanted a prayer towards the stone-like figure, who had been frozen for over ten seconds without even blinking.
‘Namu Amita Bul, Gwanseeum Bosal (TL Note: Korean Buddhist chants), may you be reborn in the Pure Land.’
