Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Movement (2)
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《Movement》 - (2)
01.
Yeah, that day had been another one where the rain drizzled down just like this.
Fifteen years old. The day he'd turned into a sandbag under the guise of "play," his whole body covered in bruises.
Praying that his mom at home would be too busy to notice the wounds on his body, he'd dragged himself listlessly along the asphalt.
On his way home from school, barely shielding his torso with a cheap plastic umbrella, trudging along powerlessly—that was the day Jihun happened to cross paths with the Sad Clown "Perolln."
...The month had turned anew, and as always, the promotional posters for Season Off Fantasy had been replaced with fresh ones.
As if bewitched by something, Jihun stopped in his tracks and closely examined the poster plastered on the shop wall.
There, no longer the September stage boss "Morbar," but the new stage boss for October—"Perolln"—stood in its place.
Perolln, who always grinned wide open despite bearing the epithet "Sad Clown." To Jihun, that clown felt nothing but resentful.
He couldn't even remember the last time he'd smiled himself, yet here was this guy always smirking, tagged with "Sad Clown." What a ridiculous moniker.
A Happy Clown or Mad Clown would suit him better.
—Annoying bastard.
—A stage boss living the good life, smirking away without a care in the world. Doesn't even know how lucky he is. What a smug prick.
That was Jihun's thought—until that night, when he learned of Perolln's lore: a curse that prevented him from ever expressing his true emotions or thoughts.
—Perolln...
Right after realizing that detail, Jihun started feeling like he'd run into an old friend.
...Sure, someone might ask why he was so overly invested in a mere game character, but it was like encountering a doppelganger—an instinctive pull from their rare shared traits that gripped his heart.
Jihun himself, who could never show outwardly the torments he endured at school, all to avoid burdening his single mother even more.
The Sad Clown Perolln, shackled by an unbreakable curse that sealed away any outward expression of emotion.
Jihun was always crying,
and Perolln was always smiling.
They couldn't have been more different, yet at the same time, more alike.
The one being in this world who understood him, his one and only friend in this world—that was Season Off Fantasy's October stage boss, the Sad Clown Perolln.
It was only natural to want to know more about a close friend, nay, his other half.
So while others obsessed over different stage bosses, Jihun alone researched Perolln, conversing with the figure on the poster.
As time passed, as more bruises etched themselves onto his body one by one, he grew ever closer to Perolln.
...Thinking back on it that way, even if he was called the weakest stage boss, Jihun turning into Perolln felt almost like a blessing.
Because his smile and Jihun's tears had merged, finally birthing the true "Sad Clown."
Thus, now as Perolln, Jihun was confident he could wield this Sad Clown's powers better than anyone else in Korea.
And he had no intention of letting that strength, those abilities, go to waste.
"..."
...A stage boss's physical prowess far exceeded imagination. Even after leaping from an apartment over ten stories high, Jihun's—no, Perolln's—body was utterly unscathed.
"Good."
Confirming not a single scratch on his body, Perolln immediately activated his passive. Gripping the scythe tightly with both hands, his form began to fade into transparency.
Like the invisible man from the movies, he melted completely into the dark night sky.
...Perolln's alpha and omega, his passive skill "Clown's Prank."
As long as he wasn't struck by a skill, it rendered Perolln infinitely transparent. The drawback was that it required holding the scythe with both hands to maintain, but since Perolln's scythe was so enormous it could only be wielded two-handed anyway, it wasn't a major flaw.
Moreover, unlike an assassin's stealth, this "Clown's Prank" invisibility was utterly colorless, odorless, with not even a shadow flicker. Unaffected by weather, no meteorologist could summon rain to reveal his position with water droplets.
However, it had a fatal weakness: in raids, bringing along a "Beast," "Scientist," or "Thief" who could detect Perolln's invisibility would dispel it instantly.
Despite being such a defining passive for Perolln, its clear countermeasures meant he could never shake the label of weakest stage boss.
...But conversely, if none of the enemies had a class that could detect him, catching Perolln was practically impossible.
And unlike the game's overt battles, for the ambush and assassination Jihun now planned, this passive would shine even brighter.
"......"
Thus, cloaked in perfect invisibility, Jihun sped toward his target.
The person and place to fire the opening shot of his long journey of vengeance were already set in stone, so he moved without hesitation.
...At the outermost edge of the apartment complex, a playground few people visited. That dank spot had long ago become a delinquents' hideout.
Where children's laughter had given way to curses and cigarette smoke, it was commonly called "Red Turf," a frequent haunt for those who'd enslaved Jihun.
It was 1 a.m. now.
Normally forbidden to students, but things were different. Most of them had become more than human—players, they called them.
The government strictly banned players under 17 from frontline monster combat, assigning them only to patrol safe zones.
But these rule-breakers from school weren't about to diligently perform unglamorous duties.
In Jihun's mind, at least one of them was surely smoking at that "Red Turf" right now.
—Fuck, I'm way past the level of wasting time here.
"...!!"
And Jihun's hunch was spot on. A male player, customized with elf features, sat on the playground bench, puffing away on a cigarette.
...That cigarette grip, that obnoxious customization. No doubt, one of the hated bastards who'd beaten Jihun senseless with a wooden bat. Absolutely.
"Found you."
Jihun halted.
Facing them now as Perolln for the first time. Normally, the conditioned fear, their curses and cold glares would crush him, but now? Not a shred of terror.
Only now, with the world turned upside down, could Jihun finally look them straight in the eye.
Finally clench his fist at them.
Finally muster the courage to express his emotions outward.
"Wait up. I'm coming now."
He muttered as he hefted his massive scythe.
How many years had it been? He realized he was smiling—genuinely.
And before long,
under the gloomy night sky, a horrific scream echoed out.
02.
"That fucking retard Sol-sol."
China, Beijing. A man sat cross-legged atop the corpse of a massive Dark Wyvern, muttering as he glared at his smartphone screen and spat curses.
"Ace taking on Selverion? Is that bitch insane?"
With his striking fiery red ponytail, he scowled deeply, radiating displeasure. The screen showed the headline: "Korea's Ace Guild Fails to Subjugate Selverion."
...Wang Cheon-ho, guild master of the world rank 2 guild, China's Imperial Dragon Fortress, began mocking Korea's Ace Guild and its leader "Sol-sol" without restraint.
"Getting her ass handed to her by Legend, now she's lost her mind? Seoul's not even cleared yet, and she tries a subjugation?"
Sol-sol and Ace Guild, who had lost their power and prestige after defeat to Flame Mage Han Yeon-hwa's Legend. For them to challenge the docile Selverion anyway? Wang Cheon-ho couldn't fathom it.
Even China's smaller administrative districts weren't fully reclaimed, so the capital region Ace was handling was likely still embroiled in battles everywhere.
It hadn't even been a week since the incident began, and with their own key cities unrestored, raiding the Frost of Ruin Selverion? Against a non-rampaging, stationary one at that?
Did they think she could resurrect or something?
"...Idiots."
Wang Cheon-ho smirked and turned off his phone screen. Fitting words for fools who couldn't grasp the gap between game and reality.
"Alliance Leader."
"Yeah...?"
Then, as he rested atop the wyvern corpse, Imperial Dragon Fortress's vice guild master "Seo-rin" approached cautiously.
Rank 1 spear user on the China server, she asked in her usual haughty tone,
"Did you see the news?"
"Of course. That moron Sol-sol, unbelievable."
Selverion appearing in Korea, and Ace getting wrecked trying to take her down. Nodding at Seo-rin's question about the shocking scoop, Wang Cheon-ho replied.
"They should've been more cautious, those idiots."
It had only been a week; many who suddenly gained power hadn't internalized it yet. But this was stark reality.
Not a virtual world with revives, auto-aim, and pain reduction.
Guild morale, new habits and combat styles in stage bosses, public opinion, resources, equipment, support from modern 21st-century weaponry, and the realistic feasibility of successfully clearing it—there were endless factors, and reckless moves only invited death.
"Well, against Selverion, Ace wouldn't have won no matter what."
...But against the God of Ruin Selverion, Ace stood no chance alone. Unless they carpet-bombed with nukes—but even that was practically impossible.
"...Alliance Leader."
"Yeah?"
"What will you do?"
Seo-rin asked again. At her query about handling Korea's Selverion, Wang Cheon-ho scratched his head.
"Hm, well?"
Surely, Selverion's emergence wasn't trivial. Not in some African backwater, but right next door in Korea.
Everything had that 0.00001% chance.
Selverion could decide to conquer the world, wipe out Korea, then target China next—or Korea might recruit her as asymmetric power for international politics.
Of course, with newfound intelligence, she might stay put forever, but her time-bomb nature remained unchanged.
"Gotta deal with it."
...Wang Cheon-ho didn't like having a time bomb next door.
Even if Selverion was docile now, no one could guarantee it'd last until Earth's end.
"I never leave monster scum alone. Especially stage bosses."
He stood, gesturing dramatically at the surroundings for Seo-rin. Her expanded view revealed countless corpses, lakes of dark blood, and mangled monster remains.
"...Selverion's too dangerous to leave be indefinitely. She'll need subjugating someday."
"..."
"Besides, we're not like puny Ace, right?"
Wang Cheon-ho winked at Seo-rin.
As he said, Imperial Dragon Fortress dwarfed Korea's Ace.
Member count alone surpassed world #1 "Night Head," and with numbers came top-tier talent aplenty.
A prestigious guild since server launch, perennial top ranks in PVP Colosseum—that was Imperial Dragon Fortress.
"Even against Selverion, with thorough prep and planning, our guild has a shot."
And why Seo-rin called him "Alliance Leader" over "Guild Master"? Because Imperial Dragon Fortress commanded satellite and allied guilds galore.
Rally them all, and tens of thousands—far beyond the 3,000 Selverion had crushed—would muster under him.
Syncing schedules was tough, and "World's End" couldn't hold ten-thousands in-game.
But now reality reigned, battlefields unbound by "World's End"—modern 21st century with no limits. Assembling everyone for a raid? Very feasible.
"...If 3,000 wasn't enough, gather 10,000, 20,000 and charge."
Confirmed fact: 3,000 couldn't beat Selverion. So mass even more players—vastly more—and try again.
"Of course, borrow hands from Night Head, beg Korea's gov for airstrikes too."
Plus terrain tactics, other rankers' aid, global barrages—Selverion would crumble, he was certain.
"But not yet, not the time."
Despite his confidence, Wang Cheon-ho gave a wry smile. The rank 2 martial artist wrapped leather straps around his fists and told Seo-rin,
"Gotta put out the fire on my doorstep first."
Not confirmed, but hypothesis: sky rifts spawning monsters favored populous areas.
China's population? A whopping 1.4 billion, world #2. Matching that, countless rifts tore open nationwide—they'd sealed barely a tenth.
Meddling abroad now, with Selverion in Korea? Arrogance, delusion, negligence.
Protect what's in front first.
"...Goblins incoming. Prep, Seo-rin."
"Yes, Alliance Leader."
Thus, taking down stage bosses—Selverion—was,
still a distant future prospect.