Chapter 121
Han Yaseong sat on the sofa, sipping cola as he waited for 7 p.m. Euna sunbae's words echoed in his mind. Don't let the girls intimidate you... But that wasn't easy. Kwon Seoha always made him shrink back. Choi Yujin sunbae was the same, and so was Euna sunbae. They were all from the upper crust, exuding an aura that crushed his spirit. The only place he didn't wilt was in bed. That was his domain. Whether it was Choi Yujin sunbae or Euna sunbae, up there they were just gorgeous women stripped bare, squirting from their pussies.
What about Kwon Seoha? How would she react in bed? Curiosity alone got him hard in seconds. Stripping her naked and taking her would feel incredible, but the thought made him shake his head. Did he really have to defile that pure girl? Part of him wanted to leave her untouched. Even when he jerked off imagining her, he didn't actually crave the real thing. He yearned to savor her innocence forever, pristine and unchanged.
Maybe he still had some purity left in him. Truth be told, his life had gone off the rails from the first button. He should have started with holding hands, then kisses, with a girl he liked. But getting brutally rejected by his middle school crush had made him skip every step. No fresh, innocent romance—just straight to sex with Choi Yujin sunbae, heavy petting with Euna sunbae. He'd bypassed the whole middle phase.
That might be why he wanted to leave Kwon Seoha as she was. He couldn't stomach claiming her pussy without that budding love, like he had with the sunbaes.
As 7 p.m. approached, Han Yaseong sighed and rose from the sofa. He'd wanted that innocent love too... but somehow, he'd jumped straight to adult passion. He longed to stroll campus hand-in-hand with someone, but that was impossible. Not with Choi Yujin sunbae or Euna sunbae. They were extraordinary women. Kwon Seoha was no different—her dad was a renowned med school professor, practically upper class. And countless guys were watching her with interest.
Dating her was a pipe dream anyway, but even if he did, how could he dare hold her hand around campus? Jealous guys would beat him to death.
Han Yaseong pondered a girl who suited him. There was one: a clubmate from his year, a first-year. Perfectly ordinary. Not a beauty, average figure. Dating her would draw zero attention. They could hold hands anywhere on campus. Normal guy meets normal girl—no objections, no stares. Even celebrities only get hate when they're famous. Obscure ones don't even make headlines, so no hate. The world worked that way. Only the exceptional got noticed, got obsessed over.
Hate-commenters were all nobodies themselves. Kill one, and no one notices. Their one shot at fame? Getting sued for trolling—and even then, anonymity hides their names. Maybe they were more pitiful than average folks. No one would know them even after a lawsuit.
Han Yaseong didn't crave fame, nor did he want to be some attention-starved troll. He aimed higher: fame in the shadows, upper class without the spotlight. Like Jewish capitalists, pulling strings from the dark. That was his role model now. First step: get rich. Time to scout beyond the forest in that other world. Something profitable had to be there.
The clock hit 7 p.m., and he climbed to the attic. Moments later, a brilliant light flared, birthing the portal. Still mind-blowing every time. No clue why it spawned in the attic.
He shoved piles of provisions through and followed. Crash!
"Ugh..."
He tumbled again. Instinct screamed winter. Icy winds stabbed his body. Snow blanketed everything, fist-sized flakes swirling poetically. Turn this into a resort, and he'd rake in billions. Tycoons would pay fortunes. But governments and elites would seize it by force. No dice.
He bellowed toward a tree-root hollow. "Yadong-ah!"
Too much food for one trip, so he called his beast buddy. After a few shouts, Yadong slunk out from the shelter. After nearly 300 days, it looked no stronger—slack training, no gains. Still, it bounded down the hill nimbly. Rough combat power scan: 130,000. Up about 5,000 since last time. Fun metric, pretty accurate for ranking.
His own power hovered at 127,000. In a fortnight, he'd hit 130,000 and pull ahead again.
Yadong scowled, miffed at his late arrival.
"Couldn't come yesterday. That's like 140 days here. But you slacked on training? Barely stronger."
"Grrr..."
Yadong grumbled. It had trained hard, peaking two months back (pre-140 days), waiting full-power. But no show, so it goofed off, losing the edge. Maintaining peak without knowing when the boss would drop by? Exhausting.
"Carry this stuff. Too much."
He tossed Yadong several provision bundles. It obeyed eagerly—food was food.
Han Yaseong and Yadong braved the snow, hauling goods to the shelter. Other beasts sensed him and crowded the entrance. He crushed chocolate bars, scattering chunks; Yadong got a whole one. They snatched and scattered, thrilled. Yadong clutched its bar, munching happily.
Provisions stowed, Han Yaseong hit the stream for detox. Gulped near-freezing water—signal hit. Rushed to the woods, relieved himself, drank more to flush. Red berry stiffness eased. Sleep tonight; train tomorrow.
Back at shelter: fire, simple meal, bedding down. Tomorrow: train, scout forest edges. Real expedition post-real sword buy. For now, map the woods cautiously.
Lying there, blinking sleepily, he drifted off grateful. Without this place, he'd be ordinary still.
Next morning, temple warmup. Detox and deep sleep banished soreness; red berry effects gone. Magical spot—made you healthy.
Loosened up, dual-wielded wooden swords fluidly. This world amplified ability. Feats impossible back home? Breeze here. Muscle memory carried over.
A pro fighter training a year here? World champ. Master countless strikes and techs.
Two hours swordplay, quick breakfast. Then hunting knife belted, crossbow in hand—edge of forest scout. Two klicks unexplored. No beasts beyond. Yadong shied from it too. Some barrier? Contaminated zone? Apex predator? Yadong's fear deterred him. Skirted the line, called it a day.
Fortnight flew. Daily training; Han Yaseong surged stronger. Muscles rippled fiercely; even his dick hardened tougher. Trained like a maniac—progress addictive. MMA, blades, wooden sword, crossbow. Confidence swelled: survivable anywhere back home.