Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Namgung Sparring (2)
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Worries.
That's right. A person's life is ultimately a cycle of facing worries, resolving them, and then new ones cropping up again.
I began to seriously contemplate this newly arisen worry.
'How strong am I, exactly?'
For starters, it was an absolute fact that I was strong. I remembered the Heavenly Demon's internal energy being around 50,000, but mine clocked in at a whopping 600,000. Simple math put me at the level of twelve Heavenly Demons. Which meant my earlier boss mob analogy wasn't any exaggeration at all.
However, this was the brutal world of murim.
Having a ton of internal energy didn't make your neck immune to a sword, and the 'transcendent arts' you could learn after the Flower Realm had a very low chance—but could still one-shot foes far beyond your own realm.
In other words, the jianghu after the Flower Realm was structured so that no matter how strong you were, you couldn't afford to let your guard down.
"And it's not like I can spam skills like in a game..."
In the game, I'd played by casually unleashing the world's greatest techniques left and right like breathing. But Baek Mo, the 21st-century Earthling, was no such expert.
Even judging purely by physical strength, he'd be a top contender for best in the world, but in terms of martial arts attainment? Not even third-rate.
He was instinctively circulating his internal energy right now without even understanding where it started or how it flowed—his brain had zero grasp on the mechanics.
Not wanting to fight and staying weak were two entirely different issues.
Hmm...
Should I... train?
I plopped down in some alleyway in An-hui and pondered deeply.
Then it hit me like a bolt—a flash of inspiration as my upper dantian cleared.
This time, my concept would be the 'old man honing his sword forms.'
This was the name of the pure white porcelain-like mask I now held in my hands. Wearing it let you summon one of the five saved coordinate presets.
In the game, it was an item for crazy black whales like me who'd amassed so many coordi sets they couldn't manage them anymore. Here, it served as a high-performance disguise mask that perfectly altered not just my face, but my entire appearance.
Needless to say, owning this item marked me as one of those crazy black whales too.
These days, novels reset all your stats and chucked you into the game world, but treatment like this? Definitely black whale tier.
Slipping on the mask, it softened like jelly and soon seeped into my skin.
Closing my eyes, five illusory forms floated before me.
The sight made my chest tighten unexpectedly.
They were all still there.
Every one a preset I'd commissioned at great expense. The result of faithfully dumping half my part-time wage each month. Countless hours of grueling labor endured for the dream of snagging limited-edition coordis flashed through my mind like a panorama.
...Wait a second.
'Why hasn't that one been deleted yet?'
No, pretend I didn't see it.
Desperately ignoring the final illusion—a cool, beauty-mode figure—I turned my gaze to the first one.
This was it. The preset I'd use this time.
A kindly, benevolent old man labeled [2020 Preset_Newbie Hand-Holding Edition], perfect for passing items and tips to new players.
Approaching newbies in the purple-skinned alien form I'd roamed with in my guild always made them bolt for some reason...
Anyway, crafted for approaching others, it looked like a harmless grandpa to anyone— the type who'd just chuckle heartily if neighborhood kids tugged his beard.
With Namgung Serin on edge from prepping for the sparring match, this was the perfect look.
In a secluded alley with no one around, I selected the first preset and activated it. Simple enough.
Close your eyes, point to one of the five forms, think hard this is the one, and done.
It took seconds, and soon my body radiated the aura of an endlessly kindly old man.
"The clothes I had on get stored in the inventory pouch, huh."
Convenient. Barely any different from the game.
But all this happened under reality correction. Impossible phenomena didn't occur. Meaning martial arts and sorcery could replicate it all.
In wuxia tales, forbidden spells even allowed regression—this was well within feasible bounds.
Dragging someone into a game world was absurd from the start anyway.
"Heh heh... even the voice changed. Amazing."
Still not used to this old man's body. I inspected it this way and that, taking a few tentative steps.
Two weeks until the Namgung sparring. Plenty of time to resolve this little worry.
"Where are you off to?"
"...Can't sleep."
It was a chilly autumn night.
The Namgung sparring match was truly just days away now.
Stepping out to swing her sword alone amid her tangled thoughts, Namgung Serin got caught red-handed by her brother Namgung Haejin, who was reading by moonlight. She scratched the back of her head with an awkward smile.
"You're really fired up, huh. Even you get worked up knowing that kid's participating."
"Guess so. Same Three Phoenixes and all."
"Don't let beating the Division Leader shake you too much. I know your heart's a mess right now... but in the end, victory comes down to split-second judgment. Something you could've pulled off too."
Pleasing words. She knew they were sincere. But her mood didn't lift.
Probably because she was doubting herself.
Namgung Haejin fell quiet after that. Namgung Serin silently slipped out the back door.
Everyone was asleep—no noisy training in the family grounds. She'd need a new spot. Luckily, she found one quicker than expected.
An-hui was full of mountains, and scaling a nearby one offered vast plateaus aplenty.
"So pretty."
But this place was more than just a wide plateau.
A smile spread across Namgung Serin's lips.
'As long as I can move, it'll do.'
Surrounded by thickets so no one would come, scented with sweet bamboo, cradling a lake that drank in the moonlight—it had real charm. Hard to imagine a more perfect training spot.
She whipped out a sword and dashed to the lakeside. Looked like she could swing till sunrise today.
But at that moment.
"Heh heh, first time seeing someone come here."
An old man approached, arms full of firewood. He had the vibe of someone who'd lived here for decades. A soft sigh escaped Namgung Serin's lips.
"Ah..."
"What's wrong, miss?"
"It's nothing... I'll be going now."
How to put it? She'd wandered into someone's territory unwittingly and was disappointed. Rude to say.
Swallowing her regret, she turned to leave.
The old man caught her ankle with a gentle tone.
"Miss, I see you're carrying a sword—a martial artist, eh? Nice breeze here, water too—perfect for moving your body. If this old man's bothering you, no helping it, but..."
Her porcelain-pale face blanched.
"No! Not at all. How could you say that, elder?"
He burst into hearty laughter, amused by her flustered whirl back around.
"Just kidding. Rare to see such a good-hearted young person. Your parents must be proud."
"Ah, haha..."
Unlike his purely kind first impression, this elder had a playful streak. Exhausted after a few exchanges, Namgung Serin sank to the ground with a sigh. No energy left to swing her sword.
Gazing at her softly, the old man suddenly picked up a stick from the pile.
"Miss, how many years have you been swinging a sword?"
An out-of-left-field question. Still, Namgung Serin pondered it before answering.
"I picked it up at age seven, so thirteen years now."
"This old man started around five. Still can't put it down."
"Were you a warrior?"
The old man shook his head.
"Not sure. At this age, memories blur. Can't recall if anyone taught me or if I swung alone. But one thing's certain: never forgotten the sword while drawing breath. Care to see this old man's sword?"
A sword wielded longer than her lifetime—maybe even her father's.
Namgung Serin felt curiosity stir. She nodded cautiously.
Whoosh—
The old man's sword swung at once.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoooosh—
Once, twice, thrice.
The blade cleaved the air.
Utterly simple motions.
Just downward chops from above, that sequence repeated.
That was all the old man demonstrated.
Namgung Serin's expression darkened.
Because his realm was higher than expected?
No.
'It's garbage.'
That sword, honed over decades, mocked those long years—it was so abysmal it defied evaluation.