Chapter 11

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Translator: MadScientist

Chapter: 11

Chapter Title: The Prison of Characters (1)

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"Ah."

The opening was so glaringly exposed.

I ended up instinctively slamming a Bong Fist (↓↘→RP) right into his solar plexus.

Fortunately, I pulled back my qi just before the punch landed, so it didn't turn into serious internal injuries. It just became a simple takedown with pure taijutsu.

That aside.

I stole a quick glance at the instructor's demeanor...

He had a shocked look on his face, but thankfully, there was no sign of any dramatic line like, "Using lethal strikes in a sacred duel? Unforgivable!"

"...Moyong Wicheon versus Geum Sihyeon—the winner is Geum Sihyeon! But you'll have to pay the price for that unnecessary attack!"

Gasp.

"Take Moyong Wicheon to the infirmary yourself and come right back!"

"Yes, sir."

I awkwardly checked over Moyong Wicheon's condition.

Thankfully, he was breathing fine, no twisted ankle, bones looked intact, and his qi and blood flow seemed perfectly healthy without any blockages.

Borrowing the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠words of my medical master, the Life and Death Divine Doctor, he was "full of vim and vigor."

Only then did I finally...

"Hoo..."

...let out a breath, barely suppressing the exhilaration bubbling up from deep in my chest.

Normally, in a situation like this, you'd get cheers like "Whoa! A god has descended! I knew you'd pull it off!" amid thunderous applause—that's the JRPG national rule reaction.

...But I'd played my hand way too dirtily for that kind of reception.

With Moyong Wicheon slung over my shoulder, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠slowly exited the training grounds, observing the people around me.

His usual crew, shooting me vaguely hostile glares laced with subtle emotions.

Moyong Taek frantically tapping away at his smartphone with a bizarre expression.

Unhak giving me a thumbs-up.

And even Luri, staring at me with those red eyes, her face utterly impassive.

Eh, not a bad reaction overall.

At the very least, I wouldn't be called "moneybug" anymore.

The fruits of consistent training.

Dragging an unconscious adult male with one arm was no problem at all.

As I left the training grounds, practically dragging Moyong Wicheon along, I habitually opened the gallery...

"Pfft."

...and burst out laughing at the post that caught my eye.

Yongtaek-ah.

That's pathetic...

But turns out, Moyong Taek wasn't the only pathetic one.

Judging by the comments, this Moyong Wicheon guy must've lived like a total asshole.

Classic spoiled young master type—arrogant, self-centered, "I'm the best under heaven."

At this point, getting beaten half to death was karma.

I shook off a tiny twinge of guilt—maybe the solar plexus shot was a bit much—and dumped Moyong Wicheon at the infirmary with a clear conscience.

Still, this incident would get me a bit more attention...

"Hm...?"

...Nah, probably not.

Apparently, Cheon Luri's debut soft punch was way juicier clickbait than Moyong Wicheon's beatdown. The gallery had turned into a Demon Cult fan hub in seconds.

Should I be happy or sad about this?

Sensing someone approaching, I looked up from my phone.

Luri, who'd earned the achievement "Knocked out an instructor as a freshman," was waddling over here, having the instructor carried by people in obvious Demon Cult robes.

She was just fiddling with her phone as she walked—yeah, total pampered heiress vibe.

Couldn't exactly ignore her, so I gave a light nod in greeting.

But Cheon Luri's face didn't budge an inch.

What the.

Did she snub me?

Had she already dived into the gallery's depths and started nursing a grudge? Typical outskirts kid?

My head got a bit fuzzy as we passed each other.

"Hey."

A flat, low voice brushed my ear.

I forgave Luri.

Though I had to step out midway due to an unfortunate incident.

The results were exactly as I'd predicted.

Even with a bunch of decently skilled guys piling on, including Moyong Wicheon who'd passed out in three seconds flat, only thirty-two remained in the advanced class.

Naturally, Moyong Taek and Unhak survived too.

A few blockheads who'd coasted on family prestige got a taste of bitter reality in the strict screening.

According to senior posts on the gallery, if Instructor Hwang had continued, everyone might've passed.

But.

Due to an unfortunate accident (feat. Luri), Moyong Seol was urgently thrown in as instructor, derailing the timeline a bit.

She'd seemed like a crybaby who couldn't act her age to me.

She shut down a protesting student with total authority after a strict elimination.

Was it bias?

She seemed a bit vicious.

Anyway.

Some things in life you just shrug off, others you resolve through talk.

Of course, people don't usually air their dirty laundry.

But there's a special method developed just for those types.

Water knows the answer.

...Kidding.

Despite the side effects, booze does wonders bridging the gap between people.

Exaggerating a bit, the Hundred Flowers Academy is like a small city.

A short walk from the dorm-packed north living quarters brings you to Baekhwa Market in the northwest, clustered with shops and amenities.

Poor starter characters in games scrape by here with part-time gigs squeezed between classes.

"Grrrah...!"

"Not bad at all."

No schedules all afternoon.

As freshmen, isn't pounding drinks and grub the essence of college life?

The tanghadori skewers were evenly grilled to perfection.

The nohwajeong soup had a clean broth like instant ramen.

The spicy braised pork wrapped my tongue in nostalgic hometown heat.

Thanks to the Ten Thousand Gold Treasury Fortress.

I worship you, Father.

"Hehe, Third Young Master. How's the food?"

"Oh, Head Chef Ryu. You're here. No wonder it tastes so good—tears of joy incoming again today..."

"Grrrah... As expected of Third Young Master! I'll head back to the kitchen then."

China-wide, maybe middling, but around Shaanxi, Ten Thousand Gold Treasury Fortress was state-power level.

Meaning most shops in Baekhwa Market felt our family's influence heavy.

This is the life of a chaebol heir.

"See? I'm buying today. Order whatever you want."

"Brother Un... Moved by Young Master Gold's generosity!"

True to his Beggars' Sect roots, his tongue was slick as oil.

Anyway, curfew at midnight.

Plenty of time till 10 PM.

Pour, drink.

A few glasses became a few bottles.

Finally, the Moyong punk's tight-lipped mouth ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cracked open—impressive for a guy.

TL;DR.

Victim of a loveless political marriage.

A brutal drought wrecked even the North Sea Bear Palace's home base, so they took shelter with the nearest powerhouse outside the north, Liaoning's overlords, the Moyong Family.

And the result was Moyong Taek—and

"Yeah, that crazy bitch..."

"Harsh much?"

"Ice flower my ass. Ice block, ice block. Sis has a temper like you wouldn't believe. Total mad dog?"

I let Yongtaek's rant go in one ear and out the other.

Siblings are born programmed to hate each other.

...Exceptions exist, but I don't dive that deep.

Anyway, gallery-wise he's... pretty pathetic, yeah, a lot. But if that's his backstory, venting like that must relieve stress.

Psychologically, it's like craving the affection he never got.

"Hm... That Jeong Dun or whatever...?"

"Ugh."

I gave a wry smile as he downed his glass in a huff.

Family's been mine just two years, but words aside, she's probably his rock.

Or not.

An hour, no, two hours later.

We left behind enough empties to suspect they'd been watered down.

Precisely, only I stood on two feet.

The other two idiots were one crawl away from all fours, so I called a rickshaw.

Doubted it'd pick up inside academy grounds, but the guy showed up in seconds, flying in on qinggong with a sedan chair.

"Whew, escort jobs are fine usually, but enrollment season? Academy's the best. Short trips, high demand. Haha."

Just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠qinggong it over, right? Curiosity piqued, so I chatted more.

Mostly flexing young masters/misses, or late students.

Eyes on the two morons passed out shoulder-to-shoulder like pals.

Booze buzz?

I resolved to tackle my pending homework.

Quest complete.

Imagined the lamju girl bouncing happily, then like the idiots, caught a quick nap.

A tiring day.