The Sword Saint's Sense

I sat beside my sister, who had just returned home, applied a hydrating face mask, and was now cracking open a can of beer, as we watched the news together.

The broadcast was covering the recent string of random murders that had been making headlines. My sister clicked her tongue at the screen.

The anchor urged viewers to report anyone suspicious to the police immediately before moving on to the next story. This one was about a stalker fan who had thrown acid at the idol he was obsessed with.

The sasaeng fan, who had long been fixated on the idol, had begun to delusionally believe they were in a relationship. But the idol only treated him ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as one of many fans. Enraged by that gap between fantasy and reality, the stalker had carried out the acid attack. The manager had thrown ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠himself in front of the idol to protect her. The idol was unharmed, but the manager had been rushed to the hospital.

My sister took a sip of her beer, then asked me casually, as if she weren't particularly interested.

When I stayed silent, she looked away from the television, her voice rising slightly.

"Even if I get paid more for the team leader title, I still have to work in the field. We're short on people right now..."

In the previous round, even when I'd been promoted to director, I'd still been the one running around on-site.

I panicked and quickly tried to calm her down.

"That's not what I meant! I won't be dealing with anything that dangerous!"

Only after I promised to avoid field work as much as possible and declared that I would put my own survival first did my sister finally calm down.

But now that she was calm, I was the one growing anxious. While trying to argue my point, countless catastrophic possibilities had flooded my mind.

I thought about all the incidents and accidents that could happen in the future. The entertainment industry was called a vortex of desire for a reason—psychos were everywhere. Guys like that acid-throwing stalker might not always make the news, but they popped up all the time. Acid attacks were rare, but cutter knives were practically underfoot. There were plenty of people who wanted to carve their names into a star's head, even if it was in a negative way.

And if you took an overseas schedule, you'd quickly learn just how excellent Korea's public safety really was. In the previous round, I'd even had my forehead split open trying to stop a fan from rushing the stage.

Yes. In this line of work, misfortune could strike at any moment.

How reassuring would it be to have the Sense of the Sword Saint in times like that?

I pressed the reward in the quest window to check the information on the Sense of the Sword Saint again.

It didn't give the name of this Sword Saint person, but the phrase "greatest in human history" was incredibly reassuring. With his senses, I felt like I could easily beat the crap out of two or three acid-throwing stalkers.

It was like getting an insurance policy for the unpredictable entertainment industry. The more I thought about it, the more tempting it became.

I'll pay the settlement money, so how about you go beat that guy up? If he gets hit, maybe he'll learn some manners.

Cheon A-ram's words suddenly came to mind. For some reason, they sounded pretty convincing now.

Ah... I did have the money Winter's grandfather gave me, so I could probably cover the settlement. But what if they didn't agree to settle? Wouldn't I just go straight to jail? That would obviously ruin my relationship with Gaeul, too.

I rolled around on the sofa, lost in intense internal debate. That's when my eyes landed on a toy hammer wedged between the shelf and the wall.

Looking at that hammer, I had a thought. And after reading the quest details, I became certain.

It just said to beat them with anything.

The next day, after finishing my schedule, I stood in front of Gaeul's house.

The plan was simple. I would propose a bet to Gaeul's father. We'd play rock-paper-scissors. If he won, I'd give him three million won immediately. If he lost, he'd have to get hit with this toy hammer.

Given how much he seemed to love gambling, he'd probably accept. Why would he turn down a chance to get three million won for free when the only risk was getting lightly tapped by a toy hammer?

However, there was a trap in this proposal. Using the reward I'd received last time, the Possibility Memory, I would know in advance what Gaeul's father would play and whether he'd try to sue me.

How could someone who knew the future lose? Naturally, Gaeul's father would get beaten repeatedly. Until the quest was completed by acknowledging that he'd been beaten.

Then, unable to watch their father endure the brutal toy hammer assault, Gaeul and Gahyeon would step in to stop it. Just like how their earlier confrontation over the contract had been nothing but a dream, the family would unite against an outside enemy.

At that moment, I would reveal that I'd shed tears for the peace of the family and reluctantly taken up the rod of love. Everyone, moved by the twist, would give a standing ovation. Hopeful music would play in the background as we held hands, formed a circle, and ran toward a gambling treatment center.

...Yeah. It was all bullshit.

But if I did it alongside the reward money, it might at least show some intention of opposing gambling. Still, I probably couldn't avoid looking like a crazy person... Or would I get away without a criminal complaint?

In this world, you always lose something when you gain something else. I steeled my resolve.

What decision had I made before the regression? Hadn't I decided to follow the quest no matter what it told me to do—whether it was to bark like a dog or bite someone?

It was time to remember my original intention. Whether I looked like a psycho, a selfish bastard, or ended up facing a lawsuit, if it was a quest I could attempt, I had to try it. That was the path to success.

If I denied my faith in the system, its very foundation would collapse. In the previous round, I'd completely ignored the quests and gotten slapped in the back of the head. This time, I had to believe.

Still, it wasn't like I had no safety net. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠opened the reward window to check.

The Possibility Memory I'd gained from recruiting Gaeul was there. If I used it, I'd see the most likely future. I'd know what would happen after I beat up Gaeul's father. If that future showed me actually getting sued or completely screwed over, I could just pretend it never happened and go home. The risk would disappear.

Knowing what Gaeul's father would play in rock-paper-scissors was just a bonus.

"Yeah, let's use it now. Use!"

Nothing happened.

"...?"

Wondering if it hadn't registered, I tried again, but the situation didn't change.

"What is this? A bug?"

Then, as if to tell me it wasn't a bug, a message appeared before my eyes.

I panicked and waved my hand at the message. Nothing changed.

"...Who's the appropriate target?"

That was my reward. Why was it being used on someone else?

At that moment, the sound of something shattering and a scream came from Gaeul's house. Without even thinking, I reflexively ran toward it.

Gaeul had just finished an exhausting training session. The training was harder and more difficult than the part-time jobs she'd worked before, but she didn't find it painful at all. Because this was what she wanted to do.

Her life these days had been a continuous stream of sweet events, like a dream. The current reality—where she could run toward her dream without giving up on Gahyeon—was something Gaeul hadn't even dared to imagine. It was so sweet that she'd thought it could never happen.

But the environment surrounding Gaeul had changed in an instant. Like a Cinderella under a magic spell, she was now able to walk toward the ball.

Gaeul savored that sweet reality on the subway, surrounded by office workers heading home. And she thought of the one man who had created this dreamlike situation.

He treated her like a child. Like an ignorant kid who needed every single thing taken care of for her. Honestly, Gaeul was happy about that treatment. It was the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first time in her life she'd received such unconditional care.

She felt a sense of security with Taeyang that she'd never experienced with anyone else in the world.

...But it was also a little disappointing.

Gaeul carefully cherished that budding emotion in a corner of her heart like a treasure.

After getting off the subway and walking home, she entered the house. Thinking of her father, who had been out somewhere lately and rarely showed his face, she greeted Gahyeon.

But what caught Gaeul's eye wasn't her younger brother, Yu Gahyeon. It was her father, Yu Daecheol.

Gaeul was slightly surprised but greeted him calmly.

But something about the atmosphere felt off. Her father's eyes were bloodshot, his face flushed red. A strong smell of alcohol emanated from his body. He seemed completely drunk.

"...Ugh."

While examining her father's complexion, Gaeul was startled by a sudden groan and looked toward the kitchen. There, Gahyeon was collapsed on the floor, clutching his stomach in pain.

Gahyeon was panting, struggling to endure the pain, cold sweat pouring down his face. With trembling hands, Gaeul carefully moved her brother's hands aside and checked his abdomen. There was a dark bruise.

The culprit was obvious. Like a mother bird facing a snake, Gaeul glared at her father.

"...I lost a little money at gambling, and he started throwing a tantrum like a little shit. Doesn't even recognize his own father."

It seemed her father had gone back to gambling. Gaeul had expected this. Her father was a terrible gambling addict. She'd known he wouldn't quit. That's why she'd made a compromise, agreeing that he could only use five million won for gambling.

"It's fine if you lost money, but first, let's take Gahyeon to the hospital..."

"Gahyeon, noona will talk to him, so just stay quiet!"

Their father was staring at Gahyeon with bloodshot eyes. That scared Gaeul. She wanted to get Gahyeon to the hospital first. As if unaware of her feelings, Gahyeon spoke.

"...What?"

Gaeul asked, hoping it wasn't true.

"No. All the money we received."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"It's not true, right? Gahyeon must be misunderstanding, right?"

"..."

Her father didn't answer and simply downed another glass of soju. It was the same evasive attitude he always showed when there was a problem. From that, Gaeul knew the answer. It seemed her father had really lost all the money gambling.

"..."

As Gaeul glared at him with reddened eyes, her father spoke irritably.

The moment she heard those words, something inside Gaeul snapped.

Gaeul had always hidden her pain behind a bright smile, laughing awkwardly as if her suffering was no big deal.

But in reality, she had been screaming inside.

"Working at least three part-time jobs every single day! Coming home after all that to clean, do laundry, and cook! Turning down every invitation from my middle school friends to meet up, until they eventually stopped contacting me altogether! Just watching enviously as high school kids study at cafes! Giving up on pretty clothes! Giving up on cute dolls! Giving up on dance club activities! Giving up on karaoke! I've given up on every single happiness I ever had!"

Yet she had endured it all. Because if Gaeul gave up or stopped enduring, this precarious family would collapse immediately.

But the resentment she'd been suppressing was unleashed by her father's careless words.

Her father responded with a mad rage in his voice.

The situation escalated in an instant. Her father suddenly stood up, lunged forward, and began choking her.

"Kgh... Dad... stop..."

She couldn't breathe. Pinned against the wall of the narrow room, her neck being squeezed, Gaeul's mind began to grow hazy. In that fading consciousness, a message appeared before her eyes.