Chapter 138
Han Yaseong was in high spirits, so even spotting Yadong felt like a welcome sight.
"Good to see you, Yadong."
But Yadong just stared at the pile of foodstuffs on the ground with a sullen expression. This guy's such a tsundere, Han Yaseong thought. Acting like he's not happy to see me even though he is.
But that was just Han Yaseong's assumption—Yadong truly wasn't thrilled. It meant more grueling training ahead. Whenever his subordinate Han Yaseong arrived riding beams of light, it brought food but also another exhausting day of drills.
"Take one and go."
Handing a bundle of provisions to Yadong, Han Yaseong grabbed the weapons bag first and headed off. Entering the lodging space near the roots, he found it a bit messy, so he set the bag in a corner, did a quick cleanup, then started hauling the rest of the supplies in earnest. It took a dozen trips back and forth to move everything.
Sensing Han Yaseong's arrival, other bizarre wild animals gathered at the lodging entrance. He lit a bonfire and tossed chocolate bars to Yadong and the others before heading to the stream for detox. Just like before, he drank water and purged repeatedly until his guts were empty. Afterward, the aftereffects of the red berries seemed to ease a bit, and he felt a surge of energy.
Feeling invigorated, Han Yaseong jogged lightly toward the forest boundary. Running about two kilometers along the edge worked up a sweat, leaving him refreshed. He stared into the dark woods beyond for a while. After real-sword training, he'd have to scout there. Curiosity mingled with dread—what unimaginable monsters or aberrations might lurk? If something like that appeared, he could end up dying in this world, never returning home. How could he not worry?
Yet he couldn't avoid it. To rise to the upper class, he needed discoveries from beyond the forest. And the burning curiosity about what lay there was unbearable. With adventure right in front of him, he couldn't back out just because it was dangerous. Turning back now would mean no upper-class status back home either. He had to go.
After gazing at the forest depths a bit longer, Han Yaseong ran back to the lodging. He boiled some ramen for a simple dinner with Yadong and turned in early that night.
The next morning, he began real-sword training. He named the sword—crafted by a famous master and wielded by a mob boss—Wild Sword. Once he named it after Yadong, everything followed suit, so the crossbow became Wild Crossbow.
Gripping Wild Sword in both hands and swinging it felt ferociously wild. Even Yadong kept a safe distance. It seemed like it could cleave anything in its path. Too dangerous to wield carelessly.
Sheathing Wild Sword at his waist, Han Yaseong picked up the hand axe again. Throwing it seemed more effective for attacks than swinging. He hurled it at a large tree like a dagger, repeating the motion several times. It wasn't familiar yet—the blade didn't stick properly. He'd need prolonged practice to embed it right.
He trained for over a month like that—real-sword drills, hand-axe throws, spear work, greatsword swings—preparing for exploration with every weapon at his disposal. The towering pile of food in the lodging dwindled quickly.
The more he trained, the more Han Yaseong realized his shortcomings. The gap between his aspirations and his current skill was vast. At this rate, he'd never be satisfied, even after a century.
He regretted not having formal training. Proper special forces instruction would have polished him; going solo left so much rough around the edges. Or rather, he couldn't reach his peak. His level was already impressive, but as it rose, so did his standards, making him feel inadequate. Classic case of "my skills suck" syndrome.
He craved protagonist-level power from his series, but kept landing at the skilled-extra tier—the ones who always lost to the hero. Those extras were powerhouses, but his growing hunger for upper-class life left him dissatisfied. To claim Senior Choi Eugene, Senior Eun-ah, even Kwon Seo-ha, he needed more strength. That obsession stalled his progress; training yielded diminishing returns.
That was his current frustration, his dilemma.
"Damn it...!"
Swinging Wild Sword, he slammed it into the ground and vented. Why the suffocating irritation? He was stronger than before, yet dissatisfaction festered. He yearned to grow more, felt he could, but hit a plateau—no further progress. A first for him. He'd never felt this frustration in anything before. Hell, he'd never tried this hard.
Sitting on a rock, Han Yaseong took a break. Without gains, training lost its thrill. Part of him wanted to head home. But he couldn't. He ached to shatter this wall.
"Ugh, so annoying..."
Lying back on the broad rock, hands behind his head, he stared at the blue sky. An old TV show came to mind: to achieve greatness, one must surpass self-imposed limits. Only those who do break walls and set records. He'd glossed over it then; now it resonated. He had a wall, clear as day. Break it, and he'd transcend—but he couldn't, and it choked him.
He missed a mentor. Someone to guide him through this. Alone, he had to figure it out himself.
After lounging on the rock a while, he descended. Yadong was nowhere in sight—probably slacking off, bored with the drills too. Training felt tedious, so Han Yaseong strolled slowly to the forest boundary. Standing there, fear washed over him again. In this state, he couldn't cross. Terrifying to risk death. That fear fueled his training obsession—proper prep meant surviving and returning.
Now he saw the true stagnation: terror. Fear of dying beyond the forest drove his superman fantasies. Only that power ensured survival. But humans couldn't attain it. Impossible forever.
Gazing wistfully at the boundary, Han Yaseong shook his head and walked back. It was beyond him. He lacked the courage, the strength. No desire for a pointless death there.
Dying meant losing Senior Choi Eugene forever. Senior Eun-ah too, Kwon Seo-ha, everything. That fear halted all growth—no limit-breaking, no wall-shattering.
Han Yaseong smiled bitterly. Just an ordinary guy after all. Heroes shouldn't aspire to that. Most who try die saving others or the world.
He wanted no such end. Better to live ordinarily.
"Gotta make money with the white berries..."
No other way. Easiest path to upper-class life. A compromise to avoid the scary unknown. White berries simplified everything. Red ones too, if analyzed for uses.
Deeming it his best option, he ate at the lodging. Cowardly, but inevitable. He was ordinary. Fantasy heroes weren't for just anyone.
Crackle, crackle.
Night fell; the bonfire blazed. Yadong slept in a corner while Han Yaseong stared blankly at the flames. Quitting the forest trek brought inexplicable melancholy. Defeat, self-loathing—his mood plummeted. He could go, but chose not to.