Standing at the Center of the Storm!
Standing in the middle of the corpses I'd finished off, I could already see climbers and management personnel who'd come running the moment word reached them.
"Excuse me—are you the climber who cleared this area?"
From among the onlookers pouring out admiration as they surveyed the scene, one man stepped forward.
A neat, elite-looking figure completely at odds with the carnage around him. At a glance, he was clearly the administrator in charge.
"Ah, yes!"
I'd gotten so carried away that half the surroundings were already in ruins.
"…Do I have to pay for this?"
If they made me cover the damages, climber or not, my life would be bankrupt.
"Oh, heavens, no. You protected the citizens—we could never ask that of you! Truly incredible. To take down this many Red Rock Orcs alone… you must be at least a twentieth-floor climber, yes?"
Orcs have types now, like 31 ice cream flavors?
I blanked for a second at the unfamiliar designation, nodding along while wondering if an orc wasn't just… an orc.
Twentieth floor was high enough to walk with your shoulders squared among other climbers. I hadn't even cleared the first floor yet. So I fudged it.
"Ah, well, more or less…"
"As expected of a high-ranking climber—your strength is on another level!"
I was still flustered by the middle-aged man approaching with sparkling eyes when, far off, the department store doors flew open and my mother came sprinting toward me.
Tears brimming in her eyes, she ran—and I instinctively threw my arms wide and ran to meet her…
"You little brat! These clothes were brand new today and look at them!"
A smack landed square on my back the second I reached her.
I checked my outfit and had to admit she had a point. Covered head to toe in blood, the clothes weren't even fit for recycling.
"Sorry, Mom… I'll go easier next time."
"Forget it… Still—my daughter was so cool!"
She pulled me into a hug. Thankfully, the sight of me tearing monsters to shreds had looked cool in her eyes.
I hugged her back, and the demonic energy still roiling inside me settled as if soothed.
When we finally let go, she inspected every inch of me.
"Aigoo, look at your hands—all scraped up!"
"Come on, a little ointment and they'll be fine~"
"Don't be ridiculous. We're going home, putting medicine on those, and wrapping them in bandages. Understood?"
"Aw, I'm weak to that red antiseptic stuff…!"
We were still facing each other, chattering away, when the representative carefully approached to wrap things up, reading the room.
"Ahem. Climber… would you mind showing me your climber registration card? We'll process the gate disaster resolution reward and handle the orc by-products as well, then transfer everything to your account."
A thousand thoughts flashed through my head at once.
Oh crap! I don't have a registration card!
Cold sweat broke out as I wondered whether that made me an illegal climber. Instantly, I improvised.
"No need! Please put the reward money and everything from the by-products toward restoring the street!"
"Are you certain? Climber…!"
I ignored the pure emotion welling in his eyes and, desperate to get out of there, scooped my mother up in a princess carry.
"What—put me down this instant!"
"Haha. My mother exhausted a great deal of energy because of me, so I'll be taking my leave. I'll trust you to handle the rest! Farewell!"
I put distance between us in a heartbeat. From far beyond my line of sight, the administrator's voice still reached me.
"Climber! At least let a healer treat you!"
I'd always wanted to receive a heal from a real healer, but sticking around any longer would only invite more problems. I vanished from the scene at a speed that wouldn't shatter the remaining surroundings, mother still in my arms.
"Hoo… what an extraordinary person…"
"Section Chief Lee Gicheol, we've finished surveying the area."
"Good work. What's the damage report?"
"Miraculously, because the climber resolved the situation so quickly, there were no civilian casualties. However, the repair costs for the surrounding facilities will be considerable."
Lee Gicheol nodded.
"We'll cover that on our end. Between the reward money that hero so graciously declined and the orcs' magic stones alone, it should be more than enough."
"Don't tell me she donated every last by-product?"
"She did. A truly generous soul…"
For a moment, Lee Gicheol recalled that dazzling pink hair and the beauty to match it—and a brief question slipped through his mind.
"Still… a high-ranking climber that distinctive should definitely be in my memory…"
Hearing his superior's doubt, a subordinate offered a suggestion.
"Well, climbers do grow more striking with every ascent, don't they? She must be someone heavily influenced by mana."
"I suppose so…?"
And so the misunderstandings of Section Chief Lee Gicheol—a rising power within the National Cooperation Climber Management Association—continued to pile up.
Back home, I polished off a full bowl of Mom's pork kimchi stew. Then, under her direction, I sorted the clothes that had been delivered and was forcibly put through a full house-cleaning session. Before I knew it, evening had arrived.
I saw Mom off in a taxi—Dad was out fishing—and only well into the night was I finally alone at home.
Is this what happens when you're alone after all that?
I rewound the most exhausting day of my life so far.
"Ugh, what a day…"
Then one thought cut through everything.
"Ah—I never made it to the gym today…!"
Butchering orcs was one thing. Personal training was another matter entirely.
"Damn it. If it weren't for those orc bastards, I was going to test my big three one-rep maxes at the gym."
I'd been stuck at a combined six hundred for the big three for a solid six months. Today was supposed to be the day I finally glimpsed a new realm. Those damn orcs had wrecked the schedule.
And even if I wanted to go now, it was already half past nine. For someone who hit the sack at ten, heading to the gym now would destroy my routine.
"No choice. Shower and sleep it is…"
I abandoned today's workout, stripped without ceremony, and while washing, checked the mirror to see if even a scrap of muscle had attached itself to this slender frame.
"Ugh, screw this… all I can see are the boobs."
My pale arms barely registered. Only the chest—strangely larger, if anything—demanded attention. In raw strength I was overwhelmingly superior to before, so how did these soft little arms stay this soft?
Would an X-ray look different?
I found myself wondering if I had denser muscle fibers than most people.
With those idle thoughts, I finished washing and armed myself in a new short-sleeve tee and shorts from today's haul.
"This one's the pick for tonight."
I put on one of the Mysteries of the Universe playlists I always run before bed, and sank into deep sleep.
And the next day—
I was standing at the center of a storm.
"Whoa, what the hell is this?"
"Oh, shit…"
I'd finished a morning workout of questionable value, rinsed off under a cold shower—and the second I stepped out, my phone went completely insane.
The screen was flooded with PistachioTalk links from my mother.
Alongside countless articles came her overflowing pride, packed into every message.
"Well, with this face and that kind of firepower, of course the reporters wouldn't miss it."
I'd figured it would make some waves. Yeah, this much is only natural—or so I thought.
Then, buried among all the flattering coverage of me, one massive problem leaped into view.
Pink-haired beauty this, that—fine, whatever. But the last article punched me square in the eyes.
Don't tell me someone filmed me muttering "Heavenly Demon Great Destruction"…
"You've got to be kidding me! They caught me saying the technique name out loud? That's mortifying!"
Even for me, a full-grown adult striking a pose alone and murmuring a wuxia-novel technique name like Heavenly Demon Great Destruction was socially cringe-inducing and deeply embarrassing.
"No, what the fuck! How did they even film me talking in the middle of that wrecked street?"
I searched for where it had spread—and found the videos everywhere.
Someone had even taken footage of me beating orcs to death and upscaled it to 8K. Thanks to that, my technique name was flooding the entire world. A few videos helpfully highlighted my lip movements at the end, edited like a highlight reel.
Despair mixed with my reaction as I checked the places that would already be celebrating this whole mess.
Of course.
Not just the Climber Gallery—the Murim Gallery and half a dozen other boards were in full meltdown.
"Crazy bastards!"
They were dead set on socially annihilating me. A festival of deranged concept posts.
A few sane takes floated by, but they were the minority. Even so, I would not bow to their mockery in the middle of this dogpile.
"Fuck it! So what if I am the Heavenly Demon? What's it matter?"
I'd spent my life pulling aggro across half the internet under a fixed nickname for fun. Online opinion was something you just enjoyed. As for the ones who got cocky in real life—my fists would settle that.
Unlike those ordinary fools, the spirit of the Heavenly Demon was lofty by nature.
Through endless mockery and persecution, all I had to do was walk my own path.