The Reality of Return

The strange meteorological phenomena that began late at night after the night of chaos vanished as if they had never existed the moment it was time for everyone to head to work. Mainstream academia, along with experts in meteorology and astronomy, engaged in heated debates to formulate new hypotheses.

Experts, having had only six hours to analyze the situation, concluded that while something existed—much like dark matter—there were simply no methods or equipment available to observe it. In response, countries around the world began forming special task forces to investigate.

"Good heavens, what in the world is that?"

Old Man Kang, a farmer who rose before the roosters, was heading to his field when he stopped, startled by the strange phenomenon floating in the sky. He stared at it for a long time.

"Sigh, tsk tsk. I guess it’s finally my time to go. I’ve lived long enough to see all sorts of bizarre things."

Was it the wisdom of age? Deciding there was nothing he could do about it right now, Old Man Kang continued toward his field. It wasn't a long walk, a path he had trodden for decades. But midway through, he felt a tightness in his chest, as if he had indigestion. He tapped his chest and let out a sigh.

"Is it because I'm old? Or was I just that startled by that thing earlier?"

Muttering to himself, the old man sighed deeply, shaking his head at the heartlessness of the passing years. And this was not a symptom unique to Old Man Kang; it was a common experience for most of the elderly and those whose physical health had declined. Later, it would be given a name.

"Whew! That feels refreshing."

As I opened the bathroom door, steam heated by boiling water rushed out, revealing the stifling nature of the cramped space. I was drying my hair with a towel when I glanced at one side of the living room. I frowned at the sofa, which was caked in blood and bodily fluids.

"Should I throw that out?"

I clicked my tongue, thinking the bed was likely in the same state. After drying off and pulling clothes from the closet, I checked my phone.

Seeing the red numbers hovering over the phone and speech bubble icons, I let out a long sigh and opened the call log, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠scrolling down.

"Big sister. Little sister. Father. Father. Brother-in-law. Mother. The youngest. Little brother-in-law. And... that jerk? Hmm. Oh, it's Jun-jae. Gyu-shin is here too."

The faces beyond the now-hazy, fog-covered memories were fading. I frowned, decided to check the photo album, and first looked at the messenger.

"You brat, what are you doing that you won't pick up the phone? Is something wrong? Mak-dung-ie, is something wrong? Son, it's Dad, call me. Ha."

Messages filled with deep worry. As the emotions welled up, stirred by messages from family and friends whose voices I could no longer even remember, I opened the photo gallery. After scrolling past unfamiliar places and faces that blurred in my dim memory, I stopped abruptly at one photo.

"Ah... Father, my sisters, my nieces and nephews. My brothers-in-law. So this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is what they looked like?"

Looking at the photo, I slapped my neck to silence the noisy ringing in my head, then narrowed my eyes. Should I call them first? My heart shouted, *Obviously!* But my head countered that calling them now, with my thoughts in such disarray, would only add to the confusion.

The moment I closed my eyes and tried to reorder my priorities—*Zzzzt!*—the phone vibrated and rang, filling the room. I looked at the screen and checked the name.

"..."

A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. The ringtone continued, long and persistent. It clung to me, demanding I answer. The moment my hand moved on its own accord:

"(Hello? Shin-ie? Seong-shin? Son? What is this, why aren't you answering? Hello!)"

A lump formed in my throat. I tried to swallow to suppress the hot sensation hitting my eyes, but the emotion pushed its way up, forcing me to open my mouth.

"He-hello! *Ahem!* Hello?"

"(...Hey, you brat, what have you been doing that you haven't contacted us for months, not even once!)"

He started with a roar of anger, but the deep worry and relief hidden within it made that lump in my throat surge again. Like a green recruit making his first call from the army, I bit my lip hard. I calmed myself for a moment and spoke.

"Ah, I was just a bit busy. I had some things to take care of."

I couldn't tell him the truth—that his son had been dropped into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠another world, suffered for 12 years, killed both monsters and men, and gone through hell. That kind of childish whining would take nights to finish.

"(Sigh, do you have any idea how worried your mother and sisters were? You couldn't even send a single text or make one call?)"

At his scolding and concern, I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips despite myself.

"I was really busy. But everything is resolved now. Don't worry."

"(Alright, I get it. Make sure you eat, you hear me?)"

"Yeah."

As soon as I finished, my father hung up with his usual abruptness, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"That's right. I don't think I've ever talked to Father for more than three minutes in my life."

After acknowledging the memory that had been buried deep down, I leaned back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling.

"Alright. My priorities are all jumbled. Let's start over. One by one."

First, my physical condition. Checking during my shower, I found that my scars had 'cleanly' vanished. The poison-tipped daggers of goblins, the diagonal slashes across my torso from Orc Warriors' blades—all the large and small wounds that had covered my body were gone. But it wasn't a *Rebirth* like when one reaches the level of an Aura Master or the *Hwa-gyeong* (Transformation Realm). My mana was reduced to the size of a thumbnail, and I had contained things I hadn't even called upon or activated since reaching a certain level.

"Status Window."

I rolled my eyes quickly, my jaw dropping at the pathetic numbers on the status window. My physical stats were nearly 1/20th, or at best 1/25th, of what they had been. I felt dizzy, especially at the reduction of my mana, which had been the most important part.

"Are you kidding me?"

I understood now why my body felt so heavy and why I couldn't even lift a mithril greatsword with one hand. I rubbed the back of my neck and let out a sigh.

"At this rate, I'd barely be able to take down a single orc."

On top of that, seeing that every skill except for my traits and mana cultivation had dropped to Level 1 made me feel drained. Feeling the hollowness of having everything I had built disappear, I let out a sigh that could have collapsed the earth, shook my head, and continued my thoughts.

Second, the reason for my return—or rather, my homecoming.

"This is obviously the Hero's wish... but then, what about him?"

Something didn't add up. *Him?* Abandoning his harem members? That didn't seem right... Then why did we return? No, why did *I* return? I don't know yet. Why did I return? Was it because I beat the Hero to a pulp the moment I saw him? Because I humiliated him in front of the women? Because I threw a fit when he wiped out a whole village because he decided to save a single demon he pitied?

"Hmm. There are a lot of reasons, but why pick me specifically?"

Thoughts piled up, one after another. Could it be? Perhaps? I pushed aside thoughts that couldn't be solved even with various assumptions.

Third, the Transmigrators, and the beam of light beyond the monster army.

"As I recall, there shouldn't have been any Transmigrators or special forces operating there."

The possibility... oh, damn it. I ruffled my hair aggressively. I was terrible at this kind of thinking. For a moment, the faces of the Vice-Captain or the Acting Captain, who always nagged me, flashed through my mind.

<"That's why I told you to study! How many times do I have to say it? Huh? You think ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just being good with a sword is everything?">

<"Mercenary tactics. Operational tactics. Imperial law. Why am I giving these to you? Read them. Yes, right now.">

I had heard their nagging and voices until my ears were calloused. Honestly, the fact that I had neglected everything except 'survival' was coming back to haunt me now.

"Well, this is a step forward, I guess. Tsk."

Pass for now. Fourth, adapting to reality.

"This is the most important one..."

Reality and the other world were different. The legal systems and everything else were different.

"No matter how strong I am, I won't be treated like I was over there."

I had no intention of doing anything just because I returned, like in those novels. Just... hmm.

"Right, I kept putting this off."

What I would do if I returned. If only I could return. If only I could go back. Could I go back? I had intentionally avoided thinking about the things that had pushed me past the boundaries of life, consumed by those thoughts. I had focused on the reality in front of me to survive, and luckily, I had survived to the end and returned.

It was overwhelming. I had been summoned, not transmigrated, to the other world. The Demon King was about to be summoned, the world was in danger, and the King of the kingdom on the front lines had fingers and a neck thick with fat, adorned with rings and trinkets. No, I realized later that those trinkets were artifacts wrapped around him for his own safety—

"What does that matter? It's overwhelming. What do I do?"

I had achieved my first wish: downing a Zero Cola in one go. What should I live for? A thought crossed my mind.

<"Mr. Kim Seong-shin. What are you good at?">

<"Well, I'm damn good at chopping off monster heads!">

<"Hmm. You're a madman. Get him out of here!">

"Hmm, that's not it either. Am I supposed to sit at a desk and work now?"

A guy who had lived by the sword for 12 years would do a great job, right? I had eventually dumped the management of the mercenary group on others... or rather, delegated it.

I shook my head while thinking. I had things to do, after all.

"First, I need to adapt. Exercise, too. Where's a place to lift iron? Oh, and—"

I needed to fill my inventory, too. Even if it was a severely shrunken inventory, it felt too empty. I got up and headed to the bedroom. I'd just have to check things off, one by one.

"Let's focus on this moment."

After saying that, I opened the door to go into the bedroom to get my wallet. And then, I stopped dead, seeing a sight I hadn't noticed or even thought about in my chaotic state earlier.

The puddles of blood on the floor. The bloodstains leading from the bedroom to the living room and the bathroom. I sighed, grabbed a mop from the house, and started scrubbing the floor.