The World Is Vast (1)
Thanks to the Heavenly Demon’s non-explanation explanation, the forum users finally reached a collective epiphany.
In the end, it made no practical difference whether she was genuine or fake. As they had always done, roasting her merrily was all that mattered. Of course, the Heavenly Demon was a fixed handle with a mental fortitude resilient enough to shrug off ordinary insults and provocations, leading the user base to conclude that they would strictly maintain the sacred boundary between reality and the forum.
She even managed to hook me for a brief second. You really can’t underestimate forum veterans when it counts.
The Heavenly Demon had frequented the Gallery for an extraordinarily long time. Her archaic tone might smell of camphor and dust, but her forum experience ran bone-deep. Hadn't I hurled profanities with full confidence when a scammer tried to hustle me before? On this board, where shameless desire masqueraded as honesty, her response had been entirely par for the course.
Now all that’s left is watching how the Blood Cult freaks out.
Glancing at the upvote count rapidly climbing on the Heavenly Demon’s thread, I backed out to the main index. The forum was in absolute shambles over her clarification. While I was curious about the Blood Cult’s reaction, sorting through the sheer flood of spam was nearly impossible. Even if a post claiming affiliation popped up, there was no telling if it was authentic or just a troll.
Well, if there’s another lunatic like Geumjang around, they’ll probably post something sooner or later.
Until then, I had work to do. Let the outside world manage outside problems.
I browsed the board for another minute or two, preparing to log off—
—right after I saved this piece of art.
Glancing surreptitiously over my shoulder to make sure no one was looking, I downloaded the picture and closed the Gallery.
Now it was time to get back to labor. Ggobongi had spent hours sawing logs, so we needed to trim and finish them.
Once we wrap this up, we can finally start erecting the bridge.
It had already been two days since Ggobongi joined the workforce. As an employee, he displayed astounding efficiency. Even with his mana sealed away, his raw physical constitution made him a powerhouse built for grueling heavy labor. Thanks to that, cutting and planing the timber—a process I assumed would drag on for several days—was finished in under three.
"Ggobongi. We’re going to build a bridge with these. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"……."
"I'll take your silence as a yes. Look here."
With the lumber prepped, construction was on the docket. I laid out the mechanics of the Da Vinci bridge, presenting the miniature scale model I had assembled earlier. Honestly, the self-supporting interlocking design was simple enough that anyone could grasp it just by observing the joints. While Ggobongi's species gave me slight pause, he was sharp enough to pick up human speech, so spatial reasoning shouldn't be an issue.
"If you get the gist of it, try building one yourself."
I handed him a bundle of trimmed twigs for a trial run. Ggobongi pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his snout and began stacking them carefully, following my demonstration. Though he hesitated at first while feeling out the balance, his rhythm steadily quickened. Before long, he completed the reciprocal arch far faster than I had on my first attempt.
"Dunnit."
"Oh……."
Muttering his rough approximation of 'done,' Ggobongi presented the miniature bridge. From the look of the neat interlocks, he had grasped the concept flawlessly. Most satisfying.
"You've got it down, right? Now we’re assembling this over the river."
"……."
"The river is right up there. Where I catch fish. You know the spot, don't you?"
Since he clearly understood, it was time to haul the heavy logs up the slope. I gestured for him to grab an end, and together we started lugging the timber. Anyone who has ever carried fresh logs knows that wood possesses staggering mass on its own. Even though these had been sawed down and planed, timber was still timber. Backed by my eel diet and circulating mana, my personal limit was carrying a handful of beams at a time.
Ggobongi really is built like a siege engine.
Yet here he was, hauling an equal number of massive timbers purely on natural brute muscle, completely stripped of mana. I had always known his physical baseline was monstrous, but seeing him match my magically reinforced frame was humbling. To survive in the lethal crucible of the Forest of the Four Seasons, his body must have evolved far beyond ordinary parameters. Being a gorilla certainly didn't hurt either.
Once we transferred the bulk of the lumber near the riverbank, I scouted along the edge to identify an optimal build site. Naturally, we needed a spot where the span was as narrow as possible and the current ran gentle. While I had measured the river width in advance and cut the beams accordingly, you never knew what variables might emerge.
By the way, across the river today is a mountain range.
A sheer, dizzying precipice dropped straight down into the chasm. Beyond that jagged cliff face, endless peaks loomed through thick veils of swirling fog or clouds. It was an undeniably breathtaking panorama, yet I had zero desire to set foot there. The goal was to finish the job quickly and head back.
First, gotta check if those golden frogs are lurking.
I dipped my fingers into the cool flow. Normally, those carnivorous frogs would have bolted to the surface by now. But the water remained undisturbed. The weather had warmed considerably, so were they still locked in hibernation? Or had they migrated to another reach of the river? Whatever the reason, their absence suited me fine.
Signaling Ggobongi that it was time to build, we began slotting the heavy notched logs into place.
"No, not there. Set it on top of this crossbeam."
"Oo?"
"Yeah, right there. Drop it right into the groove."
Because Ggobongi followed instructions with uncanny precision, progress surged ahead. Had I attempted this alone, wrangling these beams into place would have taken days. Providing him with Inedia Pills was proving to be a brilliant investment. To the beasts dwelling in this deadly forest, those nutrient pills seemed to register like irresistible gourmet chocolate.
"Let's see. The length needs... just one more interlocking set, and we're across. Almost there."
"Hoo-woo."
"Hang in there even if it's annoying. We'll grab a snack as soon as this is locked in."
Before long, the reciprocal frame reached its full length. Still, completing the frame on our bank was only half the battle. We had to push and guide the far end across the churning water until it seated firmly on the opposing shore.
Better tie a safety line around my waist just in case.
Given the violent rapids below, preparing for a slip was mandatory. Anchoring a sturdy rope around the trunk of a nearby tree, I gripped the leading edge of the structure and edged forward step by careful step. Behind me, Ggobongi braced the base with all his might, ensuring the arch wouldn't shudder or collapse.
Ah... should I have lashed every single joint with rope beforehand?
Or at least poured a dollop of cement over the major anchor points. Why did brilliant hindsight always strike when you were already teetering over a drop? Swallowing my silent grumbling, I focused on maintaining my center of gravity until the far edge made solid contact with the opposite bank. Thanks to the reinforced boots the dwarf had provided, my footing held rock-solid without a single skid.
"Phew!"
The moment the far end seated securely into the rocky earth, I scrambled back across the spans to our shore. The Da Vinci bridge stood complete. All that remained was laying down flat planks along the top to form a walkable deck. Though technically a temporary military bridge, the design excelled at distributing heavy loads, so minor finishing touches were all it needed. With cement on hand, I could even turn it into a permanent thoroughfare later.
According to Passing Dwarf, proper blacksmithing was rarely a solo endeavor. One needed the formal title of 'Master Craftsman' to comfortably forge high-end gear alone; prior to that threshold, smiths almost universally operated in teams of two or more.
Well, maybe someday.
Since smithing wasn't an urgent priority, I pocketed the advice for later. If we ever tried our hand at metalworking, crafting a sturdy pickaxe would come first. Furthermore, attempting coordinated smithing without proper verbal communication would be an exercise in pure frustration.
I really do need to teach Ggobongi human speech.
Working alongside him had reinforced just how maddening a communication barrier could be. It would be one thing if he were a mute beast, but the fact that he possessed the vocal apparatus to form words made the silence twice as grating. My original plan had been to chatter at him until he picked it up through sheer exposure, but...
He’s way too competent to leave uneducated.
The past three days had laid his sheer talent bare. Leaving him as a brainless grunt was an absolute waste of potential. It became obvious why the Blood Demon had bothered teaching him martial arts in the first place. While Ggobongi might not be an omniscient genius who heard one word and understood ten, he was the type who mastered that one lesson with absolute clarity. Considering how many humans couldn't even grasp the single thing you showed them, he was prime apprentice material.
"All right, Ggobongi. Look at me."
"?"
"If we’re going to live and work smoothly from now on, I need to know when you're uncomfortable. That means we have to understand each other."
The moment the word 'uncomfortable' left my lips, my eyes fell on the suppressor collar wrapped around his neck. A twinge of conscience? Don't make me laugh. This guy tried to decapitate me first. Completely devoid of guilt, I carried on.
"You've heard me talking all this time, right? Try repeating whatever word stuck with you."
"……."
I wasn't sure if he grasped the prompt, but it was worth an attempt. I gestured emphatically, pairing simple spoken cues with exaggerated body language. Eventually, Ggobongi seemed to register my intent and nodded slowly. He pondered for a long moment, furrowing his brow in deep concentration, before parting his leathery lips.
"Shi... bal."
"……?"
"Oo-woo. Shi-bal."
"Whoa, hold on a second."
It was a shockingly rich, perfectly accented Korean curse. Stunned disbelief washed over me. Of all the thousands of words I had spoken in front of him, why in the world did he pick up that one? Did the punchy plosives make it easier to mimic? Granted, people always said profanities were the first thing anyone learned in a foreign language, and heaven knew I had grumbled plenty under my breath while working.
"Why start with that garbage? Don't you know anything else?"
"Ggobongi."
"That's your name. From now on, when I ask you a question, you answer with 'Yes.' Got it?"
I resolved to drill basic manners into him immediately. Yet barely a second later—
"Fuck off."
"You crazy monkey bastard! Where the hell did you learn to say that?!"
"You."
"I'm gonna lose my goddamn mind, I swear."
The road ahead was looking painfully long.
Around the time Grylls began his reluctant career as a Korean language tutor, the Central Plains and the Gallery were reeling from the fallout of the Blood Cult's resurgence.
Even though an 'incidentally' passing Heavenly Demon had eradicated the Blood Cult elder, the terrifying reality remained: their operations were officially back underway. The elder generation, who carried living memories of the Blood Cult’s historical horrors, trembled in dread, while the younger generation suddenly found themselves slapped awake to a mortal threat. Geumjang’s sheer martial prowess had proven to be on a level that even veteran masters could scarcely contest. The fact that the Heavenly Demon had personally executed him was a blessing, but consensus held that more monsters of his caliber were undoubtedly lurking in the shadows.
Aside from the Heavenly Demon's public standing reaching unprecedented heights, vigilance against the Blood Cult surged across every sector of the martial world.
Amidst this continental tension, the surviving remnants of the Blood Cult gathered at the 'Holy Land' Geumjang had referenced were currently embroiled in a fierce conclave...
"We must naturally install the Great Black ape as the Supreme Successor!"
"Preposterous! How do you expect to tame a beast that already commands an entire troop of its own? Taking the white-furred ape makes far more sense!"
"Wait a moment. Why are we talking about making a gorilla our sacred successor in the first place...?"
"Silence! We are holding a grave and solemn council!"
"……."
...conducting an unhinged, dead-serious clown debate of cosmic proportions.