Balance Catch (1)
01.
Great Swordsman creator Gale<>
"…Not bad."
Having skimmed the community reactions after yesterday's first stream, I broke into a satisfied smile.
The Speed Swordsman—troll king, total trash build, garbage sword—seemed to be slowly shedding its bad rep, day by day.
Probably thanks to that 1v1 win over the tanking spearman. Even the diehard skeptics had watched live as I melted an OP class in 30 seconds flat. No way they weren't intrigued now.
Sure enough, posts asking for Speed Swordsman info were popping up left and right.
…As someone teaching it, I couldn't have been prouder.
Yesterday was just items and skills after the duel, but next stream, time for the real deal: controls, practice tips, the works.
Probably what everyone was waiting for most.
Anyone who'd even tried Speed Swordsman griped about the controls being impossible. Pros ditched it because they couldn't keep up with the speed.
Finally, time to unleash the tips and research from hundreds, thousands of normal games and AI customs.
Just watch a stream, practice a bit, get the feel—and soon, ranking prospects racking up wins left and right.
Speed Swordsman mains chirping about their victories? Hell yeah, got me hyped just thinking about it.
Bring on the Speed Swordsman era.
02.
Chirp chirp.
Morning birdsong and sunlight streaming through the window herald another new day.
"Hnnng…"
I chuck my phone—still open to the community—across the room, haul myself out of bed, and stretch long and hard. Stiff muscles from overnight unknot, sending a refreshing wave through my body.
Then, with my own two legs, I slide off the bed and shuffle to the sink. Not in Legend Frontier, but reality. My legs. For real.
"……."
Savoring the smooth-rough texture of the wooden floor, I toddle along like a turtle.
Toddle… maybe the biggest miracle I could pull off right now.
"Not bad."
I sip from my water glass, smiling. It didn't look half bad, this miracle.
Me, moving forward on my own. The greatest blessing for the current me.
"Phew…"
…I gaze out the window at the endless blue sky.
No stream today.
Streaming's a real stamina drain.
And way too many viewers for a traumatized newbie—thousands on debut. Overwhelming.
Didn't notice while hyped on the duel and explaining Speed Swordsman, but post-stream fatigue hit like a truck.
Need breaks in between. How often to schedule? Mountains of stuff to figure out.
"Stuff to…"
My mind drifts to "mountains of stuff," and unconsciously, I look down.
There, hidden in the baggy sleeve: small, pale hands.
"Ugh…"
Seeing my hands—Gale's hands—I sigh deeply, face falling. Game and streams had distracted me, but the ignored issues came flooding back.
"Gotta buy clothes…"
Women's clothes, no less.
Paralyzed lower half or not, I'd been a grown man before. Those old clothes wouldn't fit tiny Gale.
For now, rubber-banded gym pants on max tight, oversized hoodie as "oversized fit"—but couldn't live in this forever.
Too uncomfortable, pants threatening to slip any second.
At least snag a few women's outfits…
"……."
Gaze drops further, past the loose pajama tee: bare white skin, flat chest in full view. Headache intensifies.
"Bra too, huh…"
Gale's a girl, so new underwear mandatory.
Girls wear bras. And me? No girlfriend ever, no bras around.
Couldn't exactly inherit Mom's—RIP anyway. Size probably off.
"Size…?"
Couldn't even gauge this chest size.
One thing sure: minimized it at creation for aerodynamics. Definitely not big.
"Cliff."
My take on Gale's chest.
At first, curiosity had me poking around this new body, but the chest? Felt wrong even looking.
Face, hips—stunning even to me. Chest? Hard to describe.
Manga/anime protags in my shoes grope and gush. My hands? Nowhere to go.
…Nah, better than sudden heavy weights messing up daily life.
Yeah. Definitely.
"…Time to head out."
Anyway, rest day with errands. Got miracle legs—waste 'em cooped up?
Clothes sorted, poke around town. ID still lists old male me, other issues linger… but nothing I could fix now.
"Downtown better…?"
Two subway stops away: proper bustling downtown. Trauma blocks subways still, so walk it is—but walking's what I craved. No downside.
Hoodie hood blocked too much view, so baseball cap today. Barehead? Embarrassing—hair a total mess.
New women's shampoo too?
"Phew…"
Hoodie, track pants, baseball cap.
Bearing deep worries and jitters, I set out on outing three: after VR cafe and mall.
03.
Never been big on sweets.
Loved spicy and sour, but sweet or greasy? Quick to tire, never sought 'em out.
But tastes changed with the body? Passing a crepe stand, I couldn't ignore it. Feet wouldn't budge.
…Why does it look so good?
Honey and syrup dripping from the display crepe—mouth waters against my will.
Sweet chocolate and fruit…
Brain races: Imagine that heavenly bite—go order and devour!
…Should I?
Instinct wins. Haven't had crepes in forever—maybe first ever. I push open the door.
Ding-a-ling.
"Welcome!"
Bell jingles, clerk greets brightly.
—Whoa, insane…
—Damn…
"Ugh…"
Trauma? Feels like every eye in the cafe snaps to me, whispers aimed my way. Uncomfortable.
Fine for virtual me, SION, on stream. But real me, Park Sion? Not welcome.
No way anyone's staring…
But I shake my head.
Yeah, just paranoia. No wheelchair now, no old puffy body.
People aren't that nosy. Not like I'm an idol. Gazes and murmurs? Trauma illusion, probably.
No overconfidence.
…If real, blame Gale's silver hair. Rare in Korea. Dye it later?
"Phew…"
Self-hypnosis: ignore it. Lining up at the counter, waiting to order—
—Dude, looks exactly like her.
—Real life can produce that face…
More whispers.
—Gale? Identical.
—Say hi?
"Eh."
This time, couldn't brush off easy.
The world spun.