Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Heading to Work at the Star Gate
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After getting plenty of sleep, my condition was at its absolute peak. Thanks to steadily munching on those songpyeon rice cakes in the meantime, the scars on my body had faded considerably too.
"Hey! Bro, you're here?"
I couldn't help but stare in disbelief at Chang-sik waving enthusiastically like he was thrilled to see me.
"No, seriously—it's not even a workday. Why'd you come in?"
Star Gate employees generally worked three or four days a week. Someone like me showing up every single day was the real abnormality.
"Came to hang out. Got nothing to do and was bored, so figured I'd check out some girls."
"Who the hell comes to their workplace to kill time on a day off...?"
No, seriously—no matter how you sliced it, did this guy have zero options?
Of course, it worked out perfectly for me.
"If you're that bored, help me out a bit."
"Aw, come on, bro. Even if I'm dying of boredom, I don't do manual labor."
"It's nothing big. Just pick up items for me. Cheda."
"Meow!"
I'd been waiting for Cheda to hop up on the break room table before logging into my Killians Six character.
Level 1. Right after creation, I'd rushed straight to a super high-level zone, so the inventory was completely empty—no basic weapon, not even a single potion bottle.
With the default 100 slots, it could hold a whopping 9,900 songpyeon rice cakes.
"See those songpyeon over there? Don't do anything else—just keep picking those up. If the inventory fills, switch to Killians Seven, then Killians Eight."
Chang-sik peered at Cheda's screen—now shifted to its side—and gave me a look of utter disbelief.
"Revenge? Wait, no way, bro. You play this game? Our respectable bro is a lip service grinder...?"
"Just till midnight. 15,000 won per hour."
Normally I wouldn't go this far, but Chuseok was ending in just four hours—no choice.
Having experienced the songpyeon buff these past few days, it was so damn good that I'd go nuts without it.
As always, I clocked in for my shift.
Greeted customers and chased off troublemakers.
Sent home the blackout drunks and calmed any disturbances that cropped up.
'In truth, my own take-home pay is pretty decent.'
Ten million won a month, plus extras.
What folks called a nine-figure salary. Save up hardcore for a few years, and I could afford a proper house, not just a one-room—on par with employees at solid companies.
'But it's not enough.'
Exactly.
Plenty for a cushy life, sure—but way too short for what really mattered.
For playing Revenge!
'On top of that, I need way more ammo than your average player.'
I wasn't just gearing up myself and collecting some toys.
'I have to build a faction.'
Gear for the soldiers. Skills if possible. Upgrade the castle, of course—and fill it with all sorts of goodies.
At my current earnings, there was a hard limit.
'But how? How the hell do I make more money?'
Sure, I was leagues stronger than before—untouchable by old standards—but this strength was useless on Earth.
Military? Police?
Maybe, but neither paid big bucks.
Become a colonel or general? Sure, that'd change things, but starting a military career now to climb that high was pure fantasy.
'Gotta think on it more.'
Midnight hit, and Chang-sik showed up cradling Cheda. Perfect timing—customers had thinned out—so I handed over the promised hourly wage.
"I'll take it, but... damn. Running a game character for cash."
I waved him off with a grin as he chuckled ruefully.
"Thanks for today. Head home already."
But the guy stuck around another two hours till my shift ended.
Quit time before I knew it.
I'd changed and stepped out when he piped up.
"Bro."
"Yeah?"
"Why's a guy like you working a dump like this?"
He must've caught me handling that drunk and jumped to some wild conclusions.
"A dump? What's wrong with this place?"
"Come on, it's a club. Hell, I don't even like the vibe much. Company-wise? Small-time outfit at best. One plus: young crowd."
He whistled lightly as he said it. A woman passing by shot him a dirty look, then whispered to her friend. They burst into giggles and walked off.
'Talk about a total slacker.'
Chang-sik was over 180 cm, pale-skinned, with sharp, even features—a proper heartthrob.
But none of it was natural.
'A body sculpted by biopower.'
An ability mimicking the superhuman strength of mana-free monsters—without directly wielding mana.
Biopower.
It fundamentally involved absorbing mana into every cell to evolve them.
That evolution could go toward hurling tanks, dodging bullets, surviving blasts.
Or toward growing taller, smoother skin, and such.
'He's barely dipped a toe in. No trace of biopower's signature hardening.'
Purely cosmetic training—an ominous choice all around.
Biopower didn't mesh well with other abilities, so he was basically a half-baked powerless normie.
'No wonder everything's a struggle for him.'
On the 34th Earth, where most humans had abilities, lacking any meant hard caps everywhere.
I knew that better than anyone, having started with trash mana aptitude.
'Hell, even in entertainment—where looks are half the battle.'
In showbiz, biopower training was seen as full-body plastic surgery. Better than ugly, sure—but the label stuck.
'Come to think of it, can you evolve biopower in Ardenia?'
But nah, probably not.
Unlike martial arts or magic that arose naturally sans abilities, biopower needed biofactors from an existing practitioner to even start.
"Bro! You listening?"
"Got another job next. Spit it out."
"Man, after I helped you out, this cold shoulder."
"Paid you hourly, didn't I?"
"Sheesh! I got money too, y'know? Anyway, point is—you're working for cash, right?"
"What else?"
"Then listen up, bro."
He dropped his voice low.
"Wanna do a high-paying gig?"
* * *
Clock out from the club, hit the convenience store. Clock out from there, head to the factory.
24-hour grind with zero sleep—while squeezing in Ardenia time too.
Obviously.
In Ardenia, I mostly spent time sleeping.
With my superior physique, half the usual sleep sufficed—but zero shut-eye on Earth left no options.
"Big Hand."
"Yes, sir!"
"Handsome Man."
"Loyalty! At your service!"
I'd rewarded the soldiers who'd risked life and limb against Khan Slasher. Regulars promoted to elites; elites got high-grade gear and skill books.
'Beyond expectations on loyalty. Only right to reward them.'
In a fight where one slash felled knights and shredded dozens of soldiers—without even proper aura control—they hadn't fled. Incredible.
And against a sword master oozing murderous intent?
'Sure, I had strong grip for a border baron—but not "die-for-you" levels.'
Must've been the impression from leading them—feeding, clothing, guiding—on the march.
Time passed.
One day, two. The territory folk settled into homes, unpacked.
One week, two. Elites dungeon-dived to level up when they could.
The folk adapted to castle life.
November already.
Payday.
'Yes!'
First order of business? Obvious.
[Upgrading Excellent Fortress (Rare) to Perfect Fortress City (Heroic)!]
Rumble rumble rumble!
Walls shot up to 40 meters.
Matching a 13-story apartment.
Insanely thick too—top wide as a two-lane road. Roads and stairs so pristine, carriages could climb!
'And it's not just bigger.'
Rare fortresses were solid structures, nothing more.
Heroic ones? Different beast.
Defensive spells etched into walls. Watchtowers and mana cannons dotting the ramparts. Auto-repair burning stockpiled resources!
"Wow. Heroic's this nuts—what's Legendary like?"
But Legendary upgrade? No dice, obviously.
[Upgrade this fortress?]
[Yes (300,000 diamonds). No.]
"No fucking way..."
30 million won.
Unreal. Sure, I'd do it eventually. 30 mil was steep, but for a massive fortress city with legendary features? Bargain.
But regular players?
Dumping this on a single in-game castle?
"Whales are terrifying... And those castles in-game were all bigger. Damn..."
Shaking my head, I reinforced watchtowers and mana cannons. Added six large fountains, installed a daily quest board.
Result?
I was broke.
"Earn in a month, spend in a blink..."
Dazed, I left the keep—and spotted territory folk in the distance.
"Whoa, check those walls! So majestic!"
"Even Festal Castle's aren't this grand."
"Come on! Let's make fields! Peel up the tiles and stack 'em aside!"
"Fountains just popping up—still mind-blowing every time..."
"No more water worries!"
Awestruck but on task as instructed. They pried up the flawless stone tiles blanketing the city, turning the soil beneath into farmland.
'We do need crops.'
This picture-perfect fortress city had a glaring flaw.
No plumbing.
Revenge chased combat and war romance—realism took a backseat. Full-plate armor you couldn't eat in? Exhibit A.
Players didn't need food or water, piss or shit.
Hence no toilets or fields in castles. Why bother?
But this was reality. We ate, we shat.
No facilities? Build 'em.
"Timber!"
Felled trees for materials everywhere, tilled exposed soil. Razed huge parks, drilled under mega-fountains for waterways.
The pristine city grew uglier with every move.
But that ugliness birthed a livable home.
"Impressive."
From the keep's highest point, I overlooked it all. Folks hustling, training fiercely, marching grimly to dungeons.
Just watching filled my chest with fulfillment.
I stood there hours, then murmured softly.
"Log out."
Castle and city vanished. I stood before a towering skyscraper.
"Hey! Bro! Over here!"
Chang-sik waved from the entrance. I glanced at him, then up.
The building read:
The leading channel. Channel One.