Vice Strategist's Triumph and Family Crash
I wondered why he'd come to my house. Surrounded by stares like I was some lunatic, I waited for the Cheonma to speak.
"Strategist."
"Yes, Your Supremacy."
At the Cheonma's words, the Brain scrambled to straighten up.
"What's the success probability of the Vice Military Officer's proposal?"
"There are a few shortcomings, but... I'd estimate over eighty percent."
The Brain wasn't a total idiot—he was giving my plan high marks. Once I fleshed out the big picture with some details, the odds would skyrocket.
I'll spare you the leash. For now, pup.
"And the initial proposal from the Strategist?"
"Th-that... around seventy percent."
No. I needed to revise my assessment. The Brain was an idiot. He couldn't see the future, so he spouted that nonsense, but the real odds were zero. My leash was howling for blood.
"So the Vice Military Officer's plan has a higher chance of success than the Strategist's."
The Brain's face drained white as he blabbered excuses, but the hall's atmosphere had shifted long ago. The fanatics, drunk on madness, were gazing up at me in awe.
In that charged air, the Cheonma spoke calmly. "From this seat's cold perspective, adopting the higher-probability plan makes sense, no?"
The Brain bowed his head at the Cheonma's verdict.
"Vice Military Officer."
"Yes, Your Supremacy."
I straightened up.
"How long until I can review the details of your proposal?"
My idea had official backing from the Cheonma himself. Time to draft the specifics and execute pronto.
"I'm just a lowly Vice Military Officer. Such critical matters belong to the Cheonma Singyo's chief Strategist. With tears in my eyes, I'll yield that honor to him. Doesn't the Strategist need to make amends somehow?"
I flashed a smile at the Brain, who trembled with rage at my backhanded dump. Satisfying as hell. The Cheonma nodded, apparently agreeing the Brain—with his longer tenure—was better suited for the nitty-gritty than a newbie like me.
"Quite right. Though unintentional, the Strategist did show unbecoming conduct as a Cheonma Singyo officer. Discuss with the Vice Military Officer and finalize the full plan within days."
"As you command."
With the Brain's subservient bow, the Cheonma rose from his throne.
"Once the Strategist finishes preparations, the Singyo declares war on the Central Plains martial world."
""Ten thousand years! Ten thousand years! Heaven and earth eternal!!!""
As the Cheonma strode out with dignified steps, cheers and fervor erupted without restraint, boiling the hall to a frenzy.
+++
[Game paused.]
Back in the real world, I blinked awake, instinctively rolling my stiff neck before dumping the points.
Strength: 63
Agility: 63
Vitality: 63
Intelligence: 63
Mana: 64
Technique: +++
Points: 125
Save some over 100 points just in case.
I could've bumped another stat, but what if I needed points for a new skill or some wildcard? Swallowing my tears, I closed the character screen.
Back in the wuxia world, I was knee-deep in making the Brain sweat over the detailed plans. Before things got hectic, I needed some real-world downtime.
The apocalypse world's almost wrapped—bash the cops, claim the whole faction...
The original Tokyo in Apocalypse ended on an open note after the faction war: "And they lived happily ever after." Most of the eroge plot was just banging heroines anyway. With the faction war cut short by my meddling, there wasn't much story left.
Drop off seeds for farming or key supplies, and they'll thrive on their own.
Straightening my thoughts, I opened my inventory and pulled out two small jars.
Cheeky Brain bastard. Almost held out on handing these over.
Inside the jars wriggled two bugs—one blue-glowing, one red—one for customizing that arrogant Kyoto punk in the apocalypse world. Custom-sourced gudok.
Can't just smash him outright—his underlings might rebel. Gotta keep the structure intact.
The Kyoto faction would be my cash cow, so preserving its form was key. Cackling, I stowed the jars back safely.
I'd come back to rest, but reality had business: scouting minerals to sync with Iron Man.
Thanks to max-rank Iron Man, I withstood the Cheonma's pressure.
Even without mineral sync, the skill's output from my perfectly invested body was insane—just pure toughness and hardness yielding this efficiency. Post-sync? No-brainer.
The Academy was in midterms break now. Most hit the field for Gate practicum assignments, but...
Jisu and I already finished ours.
Using Park Jisu's B-rank hunter license, we'd submitted everything early. Perfect for personal downtime.
I fired up my phone and called Park Jisu. She picked up after one ring.
"What're you doing ignoring your hubby?"
She went quiet at my nonsense, then a voice piped up.
"Uh... this is Park Jinyoung, Jisu sis's little bro. Mind if I ask what this is about?"
Clocking the situation from the voice and intro, I smirked.
"Whoa, bro-in-law! Nice to meet ya. I'm Kang San, Jisu's husband. Where's she at?"
"Ah... yeah, about that..."
His knowing tone made me tilt my head.
What the hell did this bitch save me as?
"Sis is in the shower right now. Want me to switch?"
Might as well meet the bro too. "Nah. Can you text the address? I'll swing by and pick her up."
"Sure. I'll send it separately."
He politely grabbed my number, then texted the address. Sounded like the college kid two years younger she'd mentioned.
Her younger sibs are all in school anyway.
I dressed sharp and headed to the parking lot. First time meeting the in-law—gifts were a must.
Thanks for the endless gold, Brain punk.
My inventory brimmed with glittering gold. Straight to the electronics district.
What does a college kid need? A laptop's a slam-dunk score.
Jisu's not the type to drop big cash, so probably hasn't bought one yet.
As sole breadwinner for her sibs, they'd grown up fast—no whining for extras.
Or they could sell it for pocket money.
Park Jisu had the college bro plus two high schoolers—four kids total. Imagining the chaos gave me chills. I bought three laptops and drove over.
No playing favorites...
+++
The address led to a solid middle-class apartment—fit for a family of four.
She said they used to cram in a basement.
Looks like her Association sponsorship went straight to housing. With so many mouths and tight space, priorities made sense.
Parked, headed up via elevator to the door. Noisy racket inside—probably the bro pranking. I pictured Park Jisu flailing in panic.
*Ding-dong.*
Silence hit instantly. Smirking, I rang again.
*Bang! Bang!*
"Open up, you wench!"
Footsteps neared; a lightly dressed Park Jisu flung the door open.
"Wh-what the fuck! You thug. Who said you could show up here?!"
I ignored her blushing, flustered babble and strode inside.
"Where else? Your lord and master's here, you cheeky bitch."
She paled as I shook my head. Giggling, she muttered "wait" and vanished.
Scanning the living room, her bro appeared.
"Hi. Park Jinyoung, Jisu sis's brother—like we talked on the phone."
He grinned, clearly amused by the chaos.
"Hey, bro-in-law! Good to meet ya. Here—housewarming gift."
Spotting the logo on the bag, his eyes lit up.
"Whoa! As handsome as you are generous."
"Damn right. Prime character here."
He bowed repeatedly in thanks. Then, hesitantly:
"If it's not rude... you're Academy cadet Kang San, right?"
My midterms fame had spread, or he'd checked his sis's partner info. Academy couples were community entertainment fodder.
"Want a pic?"
"Heck yeah, I'd be honored."
Social like his sis, he whipped out his phone for selfies. Hunter sis made it a distant dream for him. Total bleed-out service.
We bantered, trash-talking Park Jisu behind her back, when she burst out—properly dressed and rushed.