Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: The Arcade Overlord
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The interest that had slightly faded after that one wing display exploded back in full force.
And I got banned from entering the Hunter Association.
Strictly speaking, it was a protective measure.
For the time being, until public interest cooled off a bit, I was to work from home—not at the Association, but at my house.
The major news outlets aired apology segments at their openings and closings, and published 5,700-character front-page apology statements admitting their mistakes.
On top of that, with tax audits keeping them busy, small-time influencers, streamers, and even regular folks swarmed the Association.
Drones flying despite restrictions, protests demanding the Saintess appear—the area in front of the Association was packed to the brim.
Man, don't these people have anything better to do?
I couldn't figure out what they thought they'd accomplish by seeing me.
But even if I did show up, wouldn't it just cause even more chaos?
Just tilting my head in the mirror unleashed a flood of cuteness from my appearance.
No, seriously.
This wasn't just post-shower glow—it was objectively true.
My silver hair, now even more vibrant from the water,
long eyelashes, perky nose, moist lips.
Especially my skin—it was so impossibly flawless, like pressing it would make water seep out.
Of course, I'd poked my cheek to confirm no water came out.
Anyway, objectively speaking, my looks were on another level.
Association staff I occasionally ran into, and even Cheon I-ryeong and Seol A-yoon whom I saw all the time, would stare at me blankly. It was terrifying.
If someone like me showed her face to the public?
Wouldn't that shady cult religion just boom overnight?
And so, today I decided to become a spy.
Not really a spy, but like the illusion magic Kim A-ram had used on me, I planned to alter my appearance and head out for some fun.
It felt like layering on colors.
As long as it wasn't infused with some specific energy—just plain color—freely switching mana paints was a breeze.
I painted my hair with a jet-black brush,
clumped mana over my face to blur my features.
"Ooh—"
Ebony hair, a face that seemed pretty at a glance but hazy enough not to stick in memory. Complete.
So that's how it's done.
Illusion magic pairs perfectly with my class.
No mana drain either—just a snap, and transformed.
Heh heh, alright then. Time to head out.
"Seol-a, wings."
"Pwing!"
Pristine white wings unfurled in a dazzling display.
And Camouflage.
Going invisible and flapping up, the residential area shrank into view in an instant.
My skirt fluttering in the wind was a bit annoying, but invisible, so probably fine.
I easily shook off the Association staff waiting around my house for protection and landed in a distant alley.
A gust scattered flyers and such.
The moment I touched down, I retracted my wings and dropped Camouflage, leaning against the wall for now.
...Scary.
I'd felt it bungie jumping too, but heights are terrifying.
Even with wings, that dizzying vertigo wasn't easy to get used to. Gotta practice flying more to adapt.
Once my shaky legs calmed, I stepped out of the alley, and the bustling crowd lifted my spirits right away.
This is it.
I hate long waits in crowds, but that packed, lively vibe is what makes it fun.
Spot a crowd, check out whatever event's going on; easy to pick good eats. Though sometimes you get duds.
Wandering the streets with three tanghulus in hand, I spotted a crowd gathered inside an arcade.
Some event going on?
Man, arcades in forever.
I slipped into the crowd surrounding the machine amid the familiar beeps and boops.
Iron Fighter.
The fighting game everyone thinks of first.
But it's in every arcade, so no reason for this big a crowd.
Maybe one or two onlookers for a match? But here, over ten people were staring holes through the screen.
...148 wins?
The guy getting pummeled by his opponent was gnawing his lip hard.
His play as the undefeated king mixed fundamentals and tricks perfectly, disrupting the flow.
Hoo, not bad.
This level—Gangdong's overlord, worthy of matching me?
Having once been obsessed with it, I considered myself an Iron Fighter master.
Never entered official tourneys, but a neighborhood kid with a lower win rate than me took runner-up.
Confident, I exchanged for 500 won coins and joined the line.
"What're you doing, kid? Don't waste money—go play spot the difference over there."
"Think those tiny hands can pull off combos?"
I ignored the losers mocking me and waited for the coins ahead to vanish.
Finally, my turn.
Against his rapid-hit main, I picked a heavy-hitter.
The match started, and as expected, he rushed with fast initiative.
But having memorized the frames, I countered before his attacks extended.
Light straights slipped in, heavies got guarded.
Frustrated, he whiffed a big-frame move—I parried slightly and slammed a fist into his solar plexus.
Half health gone in a flash.
First solid hit threw him off.
His checks ramped up with tricky attacks.
But knowing them coming strips the trick.
My fingers danced, launching him airborne for a full combo, wiping the rest.
1 win.
The proud display over my health bar made the guys around gasp.
"Holy crap, she broke the streak!"
"How'd she react to that?"
"Chills. Even seeing the inputs, no clue how to dodge."
I flashed a victor's relaxed smile and eyed the guy who'd suggested spot the difference.
Tsk tsk.
Pointing at it, he slunk off with a teary face to hunt differences.
As I savored the moment, an insert coin clinked from the stunned opponent.
Hoo, that character this time?
Thinking matchup lost it, he picked a sneaky long-reach specialist.
But was that even an issue?
Round 1 ended with him eating hits, unable to use his reach, and losing.
Round 2.
But I let go of the joystick.
Sneaky crap after all that?
Aah, got it. Your level.
I stood after Round 1 win.
No point dragging it when I'd win anyway.
He whacked my still character a few times, puzzled, then saw me leave—a thud echoed.
Gonna break the cabinet.
Grinning without looking back as I headed out, two thug-looking guys blocked me.
"Hey, you're good. Wanna hang with us?"
"Middle schooler? Not elementary, right? Come with big bros to Konoha or a board game cafe?"
...Crazy bastards?
They looked a solid ten years older.
No reply, just shook my head at their gross visuals and sidestepped— they blocked again.
Ugh, annoying—
"You two, beat it."
"What?"
A gruff voice made them squint.
A huge shadow loomed over them.
"Mister, mind your own... Hey, movie time's up."
"Yeah, let's go."
Pale at the bearish brute's bulk, they muttered excuses and fled.
But seriously, what guy's that massive?
Face flushed beet red too, turning his rugged features demonic.
...Wait, familiar.
Busan's Baek Mun-hyuk?
Yep, definitely him.
Manhae Guild Master, S-Rank Hunter.
Why's Baek Mun-hyuk in an arcade? Wasn't in the crowd?
His rolling eyes, the half-smashed joystick on the pitiful cabinet.
No way—the guy I just toyed with?
...Dizzying.
Whatever an S-Rank from Busan was doing in a Seoul arcade, I'd messed up big.
Mouthed off hard to an S-Rank.
Surely he won't hit someone this fragile-looking?
My wrist's Moon Spirit would block, but not sure against full S-Rank power.
Tch, Camouflage and bail?
"You, one more round."
His rumbling voice seethed with frustration from the loss.
But I had to speak up.
"Won't change even if we do more."
"...What?!"
But seriously.
Random select, I'd still beat Baek Mun-hyuk.
Going easy's taboo in competition.
Problem: he was trembling with rage.
Might force me into dozens of rounds?
Ruining my precious outing.
"Hey! You can't just smash the machine and leave!"
The arcade grandpa burst out, jabbing his cane at Baek Mun-hyuk.
"I'll pay for it."
"What? You wrecked my business and act shameless? Know how much this costs?!"
"I said I got it! But right now— Huh?"
While grandpa and Baek Mun-hyuk bickered, I slipped into the crowd and vanished with Camouflage.
Then his booming voice toward the masses.
"You, the hunter who messed with her face. Next time, you won't escape!"
Damn, psycho.