Spreading Advanced Civilization: Child Labor

Every human carries the potential for change. The scope of that change can be so extreme that a man might become a woman. If that is possible, then martial arts can surely be changed as well. That was why Thirin had no hesitation in twisting the martial arts she had acquired however she pleased. Free from prejudice or common sense, she turned the Sun-Shooting Sword Art into the Star Killer Punch and the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms into the Beggar’s Kick, using them however she liked.

Once she grasped the core principles, application was simple. “Tip” meant gathering all power into a single point for a swift, precise thrust. “Rigid” meant pouring the weight of one’s entire body into a heavy, destructive strike. Then surely the third principle she had obtained, “Flow,” could be used in other ways as well.

The Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art. A graceful sword technique that seemed illusory. It was an unpredictable current of change, like plum blossom petals scattering in the wind, impossible for human logic to follow. The human body inevitably carries preparatory movements. The faint tremor of shoulder muscles before swinging an arm, the lowering of one’s center of gravity before leaping, the fixed gaze before piercing an opponent. Masters read those fleeting moments to predict the future. But the Plum Blossom Sword Art laughed at all such rules and slipped free of them. Wind-scattered petals could not be predicted.

What looked like a downward slash became an upward cut. What seemed a thrust suddenly withdrew into a defensive stance. Yet every movement remained fluid and natural. Wind-scattered petals knew no obstruction. Those facing it fell into the illusion that they were witnessing a hallucination. This was inevitable. When people saw something beyond their common sense, they did not accept it as it was. They would rather distort their own memories.

“That movement is not something a human can produce.” “I must have seen it wrong. Yes, I definitely saw it wrong.” “No, there’s no way I saw it wrong. I’m not the one at fault. I have no problems!” “That woman is the problem. That witch made me see it wrong!” “It’s an illusion. Some vile sorcery!”

Thirin wondered what would happen if she applied this principle not to swordsmanship but to footwork. Waltz of Flower. The result was glorious. The extreme dizziness made Thirin empty her stomach completely that day. Still, it had not been entirely fruitless. That day, she learned how to use the Poison Core. She had become a human Hydralisk.

Thirin continued to grow, adapting and developing martial arts in her own way. But at some point, her growth had completely stopped. It felt as though a massive wall blocked her path. No matter how she struggled, she could not reach the level Bjorn had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shown—sword aura rising like heat haze from the blade—or Gordo’s feat of splitting rocks with bare fists.

Thinking back, in murim stories people supposedly wrapped swords in something like qi to cut through steel. Thirin could not even begin to guess how that worked. Thanks to that, Heres’s sword had been halved. “Even objects follow their master’s fate. How tragic.” Heres’s blade had snapped after striking a rock. Thirin, of course, did not blame herself.

In any case, if she could not properly use the martial arts she already had, what good would new ones do?

Samadhi True Fire, huh. So it wanted her to use fireballs or something. Thirin downed the beer she had just ordered.

“Haa…” The carbonation and alcohol rose to her head. But the buzz did not last. Before the alcohol could spread through her body, the Poison Core greedily absorbed it all. Thirin could no longer get drunk. Was this what it meant to learn martial arts? Losing small pleasures one by one in exchange for strength?

“Bunch of sword-obsessed monkeys.” Thirin misunderstood martial artists. They could get drunk if they wanted. They simply used internal energy to expel the intoxication afterward. That was right. The problem was internal energy. Thirin did not know how to use it. She had not even known it existed. Even if she had, without a teacher she would not have been able to use it anyway.

If Thirin could not use internal energy, she would remain stuck in a loop forever. That was why she had not even reached the beginning of Second-class. But this was a mishmash fantasy world of magic, spirits, miracles, and blessings. And Martial Arts in Fantasy Land converted the magic, divine power, mysteries, and techniques of Fantasy Land through the filter of “murim.” It transformed certain characteristics of the original techniques into martial arts form. Therefore, somewhere there must exist an “original” that could create the internal energy Thirin lacked.

Thirin downed her beer in one gulp and stood up. She had to go to the guild. What could create internal energy? What possessed properties most similar to internal energy? The answer was obvious.

“A mage.”

# Adventurer’s Guild. The word “adventurer” might evoke dreams, adventure, and romance, but reality was a sewer. A proper job should be tedious, repetitive, and stable. In that sense, “adventurer”—a profession that required risking one’s life every day—could never truly be a job. In any decent society, it would be impossible. But this was a mishmash fantasy world of ancient, medieval, and early modern elements. The Empire, unaware of its own limits, had recklessly expanded its territory and could not handle the resulting security issues. The result was the absurd situation of individuals openly carrying unauthorized weapons through cities.

Carrying weapons required no permit. That meant anyone and everyone carried them. And the place where such people gathered was the guild. Those who flocked to the guild were generally far from respectable. Receptionist Rina swallowed her tenth sigh of the day.

“Miss Rina, do you know what I… urp!… fought yesterday? It wasn’t ordinary goblins. They were Goblin Warriors! Two of them thrust their spears at the same time—if I’d let my guard down for even a second, my heart wouldn’t be here right now! I risked my life for the Empire, so with this kind of achievement, at the very least…”

There was the drunkard inflating the achievement of killing two small goblins. There was the greenhorn proudly boasting his self-made nickname “Flash Lionel” while demanding a decent quest before his week-old blacksmith sword could rust. There was the delusional man inflating tavern rumors about the Shadow Cult. And there was the piece of trash whose complaints could not even be put into words.

Dealing with such trash was Rina’s job.

—Creak. At the sound of the door, the adventurers turned their heads. Upon confirming who had entered, they all fell silent at once. Thirin tilted her head as she entered the hall. “Strange. It’s not noisy today.” She nodded. “Lucky me.”

Thirin thought it was luck, but it was not. It was the result of her activities as a gender reassignment surgery specialist. Her reputation was rising in real time. Her dream of opening a clinic was not far off. The adventurers began whispering very discreetly.

“Heard she took down another one today. That wanted man, apparently…” “My god……” “Inhuman. How could anyone do something so horrific……” “I’d like to experience it once……” “What?!”

Short, exaggerated phrases and sighs came from all directions. Thirin walked toward the reception desk through the library-like silence. No one met her eyes, but their gazes followed her back while pretending to fiddle with mugs or chat with colleagues. Like herbivores entering a predator’s territory, their eyes mixed fear, wariness, and an irresistible curiosity.

“Miss Thirin!” Rina’s face lit up. When Thirin approached, the troublemakers in front of Rina quickly backed away. Rina swiftly pulled out a piece of parchment from the pile of documents.

“We just received confirmation from the Imperial Army! The arrest of the ‘Five Fingers of Blood’ gang has been verified! You’re truly amazing! How did you find their hideout?”

Rina’s praise continued. “At least twenty people were robbed and murdered, and some children who went missing from nearby villages were apparently sold off by them in human trafficking… They were truly the dregs of humanity. The Empire had even classified them as high-priority threats…”

Listening to Rina, Thirin felt strangely uncomfortable. She snapped, “Hmph. It was nothing special.” Rina barely suppressed a laugh. The way Thirin twisted her body while twirling her hair with one hand and scratching her calf with one foot looked exactly like someone embarrassed. “Miss Thirin, your ears are red.”

“Wh-what?!” Thirin yelped and hurriedly covered her ears. “It’s because I had a beer on the way here! The weather’s hot… it’s just the alcohol!” It was an obvious lie. Her Poison Core had already absorbed the alcohol long ago. But Thirin was the type who only cared about escaping the immediate crisis. Instead of pressing further, Rina smiled gently. “I see. Shall I process the bounty right away, then?”

“…No. I’ll collect it later. Just confirm it for now.” “Understood.”

The guild also served as a vault. Born to fill the Empire’s administrative gaps, the guild naturally became adventurers’ bank, safe, and communication network in remote, dangerous lands where imperial banks and post offices were too far away. Rina flipped through the parchment and said, “Miss Thirin, one moment.” She gestured for Thirin to lean closer. A private matter. “The Pantheon has issued a request specifically addressed to you.”

“The Pantheon?” “Yes. They wish to meet and discuss…”

Thirin had conducted several secret dealings with the Pantheon in this city. The priests disliked her, yet occasionally brought her requests. Their attitude was unpleasant, but the pay was decent. Well, as far as Thirin was concerned, she did not care how unpleasant they were as long as they paid well. But right now… “Not interested.” “But the reward is quite substantial…” “Too bothersome. Tired. Exhausted.”

Thirin’s post-climax fatigue had not completely faded yet. She wanted to rest for a few days. “Anyway, that’s enough of that.” Thirin changed the subject. It was time to get to the main point. Her martial arts growth had hit a wall, and she needed a new breakthrough. “I want to find a mage.”

“Pardon? A mage?” Rina’s eyes widened. Why a mage all of a sudden? “Yeah. I’m thinking of learning some magic.” “Miss Thirin wants to learn magic? Aren’t you already capable enough?” “Self-improvement is necessary.” “…Pardon?”

Rina tilted her head at the unfamiliar phrase. The more she learned about Thirin, the stranger she seemed. After a moment of thought, Rina began rummaging through the documents. “Um… Please wait a moment. I’ll find someone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠suitable for you……”

Rina stood up. She could not recommend just anyone to Thirin. She had to select someone with a good reputation. Bored while waiting, Thirin wandered over to the guild notice board instead. All sorts of wanted posters, subjugation requests, and escort missions were messily posted. Most were not official imperial forms but hastily scrawled guild notices. There were many terrible handwritings. “How barbaric.” The level of civilization was proportional to penmanship, after all.

Thirin slowly scanned the board from the top.

[URGENT! Wanted: ‘Hairless Ogre’ Gilbert!]

Characteristics: Enormous muscles, completely bald head.

Crimes: Multiple village raids and arson. Indiscriminate assault on those who mock baldness.

Notes: Absolutely forbidden to mention hair-related terms. Especially words like ‘baldy,’ ‘shiny,’ or ‘harvest’ provoke violent reactions. Exercise extreme caution when reporting.

“……” Thirin was momentarily speechless. The Empire was a barbaric nation that oppressed the human rights of the bald. Bald individuals could not even use travel permits. Therefore, the oppressed had no choice but to rage. Perhaps this Gilbert fellow was a revolutionary. Though his methods were a bit extreme. Thirin silently cheered Gilbert’s struggle and moved on to the next notice.

[Widow Escort Recruitment]

Title: Seeking a long-term escort knight (or adventurer) for the noble and wealthy widow Lady Evelyn, departing for a distant southern territory.

Requirements: Sturdy male aged 20–30. Neat appearance. Excellent conversational skills preferred.

Special Notes: Suffers greatly from loneliness at night. Additional compensation negotiable.

Contact: Guild 2nd Floor, Room 3.

‘…They’re recruiting hosts and writing it like this?’ Thirin was dumbfounded. The sexual norms of this primitive fantasy land were far too liberal. What on earth was the Empire’s censorship bureau doing? Clearly not working. Then again, considering they were the perverts who stole her hair, she had nothing to say. Thirin was far too accustomed to Homeland’s censorship. Censorship was something that should never be done in the first place.

Thirin clicked her tongue and glanced sideways. This time, a crudely hand-drawn poster caught her eye.

[URGENT SUBJUGATION! Lewd Mushroom of the Forest!]

Type: Mushroom strangely resembling the male organ.

Damage: Causes severe shame and mental trauma to female adventurers.

Client: Anonymous Female Adventurer Coalition.

Reward: 30 copper coins and a heartfelt thank-you letter.

“……” What kind of world was this? To have such monsters roaming about. Even if it was a mishmash fantasy land, it did not have to be this devoid of fundamentals. Thirin clicked her tongue and shifted her gaze again. Her eyes stopped on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a worn piece of paper buried in a corner of the board among other requests. A child’s portrait drawn with clumsy skill was attached.

“……” Thirin picked up the request form and asked Rina, who had returned to her seat, “What’s this?”

“Ah, that.” Rina, who had come back at some point, pointed at the parchment. “It’s a missing child search request. They’ve increased sharply recently. Most of them are children with magical bloodlines or talent.”

“……” Thirin silently finished reading the contents of the parchment. Name, age, last known location, and physical description. —…Numerous freckles on both cheeks and nose.

“…….” Thirin suddenly felt her mood plummet. “…….” Without a word, she turned around. “Never mind. I’ll look for a mage later. I’m tired, so I’m going to rest.”

“Pardon? Miss Thirin?” Ignoring Rina’s flustered voice, Thirin left the guild. Once she was gone, the guild grew noisy again. But Thirin paid no attention to the noise behind her. Freckles. That damned word was stuck in her mind and would not leave. Freckles. Why did that word suddenly feel so unpleasant? Of course, it was not Thirin’s problem. After all, Thirin possessed porcelain-like skin with not a single freckle, let alone blemishes. Then what was the problem? Freckles. Thirin frowned as she walked. Where had she seen freckles before?

Adventurers passing by the guild gulped and stole glances at Thirin, but she paid them no mind. Freckles. What exactly was the problem? Thirin retraced her memories as she walked. The few receptionists she had passed at the guild. The adventurers who occasionally suggested forming a party or something. No, not them either. Who was it? “……” Ah, right. There was that brat. Freckles. Vera. Martha’s annoying daughter. The girl who got angry at Martha for giving Thirin bread, saying it was embarrassing. She should have taught that little brat how to make mud skincare to fade those freckles. Otherwise, how would she ever properly hook a man? Vera’s freckles were truly severe. Damn it. What a pathetic little girl. She was probably tormenting her mother because of those stupid freckles. Freckles. Vera. Martha. “……Damn it.” She should have at least said goodbye before leaving. Thirin turned around and re-entered the guild. She went straight to the reception desk and flicked the worn parchment she had seen earlier with her finger. “This. I’ll take it.”

“Pardon? The missing child search?” Rina’s eyes widened. She was volunteering for a request with a small reward and low success rate? Before Rina could say anything, Thirin spoke first. “It’s a mage, right? This kid can teach me.”

“But she’s still a child…… Wouldn’t it be better to find someone experienced?” “Hmph. She’s a kid. I can exploit her cheaply for a long time.”

The development of human civilization proceeded linearly. And child labor was an essential component of that process. Thirin intended to spread modern, advanced child labor to elevate this otherworld’s civilization by another level. Rina looked flustered at Thirin’s words. “But Miss Thirin, it’s not as if you lack money.”

“Hmph, it’s a recession. I need to save.” In this barbaric, primitive fantasy land, one could not live recklessly without savings. Convinced by her own flawless logic, Thirin nodded. Rina smiled brightly. For some reason, Thirin found that smile irritating. “Why are you smiling?”

“Oh, nothing. I think it would be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠good for you to use her as much as you like.” “Of course I will.” Thirin nodded curtly. “So how will you proceed? There are almost no leads on this request……”

Thirin crossed her arms and thought for a moment before speaking. “If I have no leads, I just need to poke around until something comes out.” “Pardon…?” “Contact the Pantheon. Tell them I’m accepting the request.” Thirin nodded. “I’ll make sure those guys have no choice but to talk.”