Hunting time. 1

School.

Bok-soon, who had visited the teachers' office, sat hunched over as if she were a criminal.

A young female teacher watching her sighed.

It was a sigh laced not with pity, but with pathetic disdain.

"Look, Mother. You need to send Young-jin to school soon. It's already been two weeks."

"Yes. I'm sorry. I've been looking for him too, but this kid just left a letter and went off somewhere. He doesn't even have anywhere to go, so I don't know where he's wandering around."

Bok-soon's eyes reddened. Then, with the desperation of someone clutching at straws, she opened her mouth again.

"Is there perhaps anyone in his class he's in contact with? Or maybe somewhere he might go? If you know of any place, Teacher..."

"No, how would I know that? You should be the one who knows Young-jin's business best, Mother."

The teacher, looking at her as if she were pathetic, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pulled out a paper and pushed it in front of Bok-soon.

At the top of the paper, it read 'Voluntary Withdrawal Form'.

Seeing the form, Bok-soon was struck with fear and asked.

"Th-this, what is this?"

"If he keeps missing school like this, it's not good for Young-jin either. If he gets expelled like this, it'll leave a red mark on his school records. It might be better to just withdraw voluntarily. It looks cleaner on paper."

And she didn't bother to mention that it would also be good for her own career as a teacher, as it wouldn't leave a stain.

"T-Teacher. No, please, just give him one more chance. My child needs to at least graduate high school. Please help me."

Bok-soon pleaded.

"I want to help you too, but if the unexcused absences get too long, there's nothing I can do. This is all for Young-jin's sake. Try to find Young-jin by next week, and if you can't, it's better to process it as a voluntary withdrawal, so think it over carefully."

"Teacher. Please, just forgive him once."

"I... I have to go to class."

Leaving the pleading Bok-soon behind, the teacher picked up her teaching materials and stood up.

Her heart burnt to a crisp, Bok-soon sat there powerlessly for a while, holding the voluntary withdrawal form.

A motel district near Guro-dong.

The alleys, packed like an anthill with gosiwons, inns, and unmanned motels, gave off a gloomy atmosphere even in broad daylight.

I walked through those alleys with a baseball cap pulled low.

And I entered a familiar, run-down arcade located on the roadside.

I exchanged coins and sat in front of a Tekken machine.

As I played a few rounds with a stack of 500-won coins next to the buttons, I slowly began to feel the gaze I had been waiting for.

After repeating this a few times, I could now sense it instinctively.

Ttididi.

I lost.

I gathered the coins, put them in my pocket, got up, and walked into the bathroom located at the back of the arcade.

I walked toward the wall and loosened up my body, looking at the tiles stained with water scale.

Shoulders, wrists, ankles.

I put my left hand back into my pocket.

A moment later, the bathroom door opened and closed.

Click. The sound of the door locking echoed.

There was the sound of footsteps on the wet floor.

Chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk.

A rough hand landed on my shoulder as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I stood facing the wall. And it pressed down heavily.

A growling voice reached my ears.

"Fuck. Did you run away from home? What are you doing here alone?"

I turned my head, and sure enough, his expression was nasty.

Usually, the guy with the nastiest look in the group steps up first. I'm used to it now.

He's about 180cm tall. His hands are thick, too; if he made a fist, it would be quite heavy.

"Did you leave home?"

"Ah. No. It's not that."

I put on a scared expression.

And with my head bowed, I dove into his chest.

Just as I imagined the sneer on his face, I kicked his shin with all my might using the toe of my boot.

Snap! Ugh!

A short, low scream.

The greater the pain, the shorter and quieter the sound.

I kicked him hard enough to break it, so that makes sense.

I pulled out my left hand and drove it into the staggering guy's jaw.

Even in his pain, because he pulled his body back, only my ring and pinky fingers made contact.

But since it's a fist wearing brass knuckles, even a graze is enough.

This time, a right low kick toward the staggering guy.

Following the rotation of my waist, the boot swung like a whip and slammed into his calf.

Thwack.

My Strength stat, having already finished 3 hunts, is 8.

8 is the level of an average adult male.

Plus, I'm wearing boots, so that's enough.

His body lost balance and collapsed.

I took off the knuckles and flexed my fingers, which were covered in cotton work gloves.

"Let's see how long you last this time."

The guy blocking the bathroom door spat on the floor.

The saliva that dripped from his mouth hit the floor with a plop.

"Ah, fucking bastard. I'm craving a cigarette, but it's taking forever. Are they taking a shit together or something?"

The guy with a scar near his eye was looking around with both hands in his pockets. He was planning to chase away anyone who might come this way.

For a moment.

Click.

The sound of the bathroom lock unlocking.

"Taking fucking forever. Hey."

He was about to curse in his face, but the guy who was supposed to come out didn't.

The scarred guy opened the bathroom door and went in, spewing curses.

"Ah, you fucking idiot. What the hell are you doing..."

The sight through the open door choked off the words he was about to say.

The guy from the gang was collapsed, leaning his back against the tile wall on the opposite side.

His face was a bloody mess.

"Fuck. What the! Hey!"

The panicked guy ran over and shook the fallen guy to wake him up.

But he didn't wake up easily.

His face was completely swollen, and his arms and legs were bent in strange directions.

"Hey. Wake up!"

The guy was too busy shaking the fallen guy's body to notice ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the toilet stall door opening behind him.

A moment later, the sound of the bathroom door lock turning.

Click.

The movements of the guy checking the fallen one finally stopped.

Goosebumps rose up his spine.

The scarred guy slowly stood up and turned around to see a guy with his face covered by a baseball cap.

The guy he had followed to rob was standing there perfectly fine.

He was wearing cotton work gloves on both hands.

They were gloves with red-coated palms, but strangely, the back of the hands was also red.

If you looked closely, it was a dark, blood-red color.

The cap pulled deep over his face covered everything below his nose, but I could see the corners of his mouth rising.

He was cracking his knuckles and walking toward him slowly.

Smack! Smack!

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

A stinging palm hit my back repeatedly.

"Ah! Ouch! It hurts! Omma. I was wrong! I won't do it again."

"You little brat. Is it right to just leave a single letter and run away from home! Do you know! How much! Omma! Worried! You little brat!"

Smack. Smack.

I couldn't bring myself to dodge the palm swinging with reddened eyes.

Complaining that it hurt, saying I was wrong, I took a back-smashing for a long time.

After the nagging and the back-smashing, Omma, perhaps feeling a bit relieved, went to the kitchen.

And soon, she brought out a meal table with freshly cooked rice and kimchi stew.

Even though she kept saying her heart was bursting and she couldn't live because of me, seeing that she even grilled Spam and ham—which she used to tell me not to eat because it's bad for my health—it seems she's quite happy I'm back.

In the past, I would have just been busy wolfing it down without knowing any of that, but now, I could see the deep emotions entangled behind the side dishes served.

Only after polishing off two bowls of heaping rice could I leave the table, and I came back into my room and sat down alone.

I took out the notebook I had tucked between the bookshelves and opened it.

I looked at the paper with the title 'Living Life Round 2' written on it.

Behind it, I organized what had happened so far.

I returned to when I was 19.

With game-like abilities.

After forcing Ma Dong-su into Submission, I decided to get stronger first.

I wandered the streets for two weeks, leaving only a note saying I had something I absolutely had to do.

And I fought with guys who picked fights while I walked the streets.

There were guys I couldn't force into Submission until the end, and there were times I got beaten up and ran away.

But to protect myself and my family, I had to get stronger.

And eventually, I succeeded in 4 hunts.

When I first regressed, I thought just making a lot of money would be enough, but that's not enough.

If someone picks a fight, you break them, smash them, and move on.

It would be impossible for a clueless high school student, but it's possible now.

No, if not now, it's absolutely impossible.

Now is the only chance.

This is finally the chance to live exactly as I please.

Now, I open the status window familiarly.

[Achievement Unlocked: Complete Submission (5/5)]

[Status Window : Apprentice]

I walked over and stood in front of the mirror.

The person reflected in the mirror was me, yet it felt like it wasn't.

Seeing myself after two weeks, I had a balanced body with muscles I hadn't seen before.

It seems I've grown 2-3cm taller, too.

It's not huge, but my body has become solid like a wrestler's.

I raised my guard while looking in the mirror.

I slowly continued shadow boxing.

I threw a jab, then a straight.

A hook swung, and an uppercut flew.

Swish, swish, swish, swish, swish.

Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo.

Sweat droplets erupted all over my body.

My body slowly heated up, and a sensation of heat rose above my skin like a haze.

And the pleasure of that heat cooling down with the sweat droplets rising all over my body.

I lived without even knowing things like this in the past.

I see my flushed face reflected in the mirror.

My white skin has turned bronze in just a few days.

I went back to the desk and scribbled a few words.

I put down the ballpoint pen and picked up the sports bag placed on the floor.

Opening the door, I shouted toward Omma.

"Omma. I'm going to go work out."

The room where I disappeared.

Only the open notebook is left on the desk.

A line was added there.