Chapter 1: A Master Doesn't Blame His Equipment (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 1: A Master Doesn't Blame His Equipment (1)
It has been almost a year since I was thrown into this game.
Miracle Blessing M.
A mass-produced mobile game that needs no further explanation.
It can be summed up in just those words. A typical pay-to-win model with a typical auto-hunting system. The kind of game you'd expect to find hovering around fifth to tenth place on the app store charts.
There wasn't much of a story to speak of.
So why did I play it? Simple: the female characters' designs were exactly my type. But who would have thought I'd get swallowed up by a game I only started to kill some time?
I hadn't even cleared it multiple times, nor had I spent a ridiculous amount of money to get special perks. Why me? I grumbled for half a year. But by now, I had adapted to some extent and was living a reasonably satisfying life.
To be clear, I didn't become a playable character; I became a person living inside the game.
Background Character A, someone even less significant than a passing NPC. That was my exact status.
My name here is Kang Geomma.
I know exactly what name just crossed your mind. A name that instantly brings to mind the meme, "A woman... talking back?"
A hollow laugh escaped my lips when I first heard it, too.
Written with the characters for "sword" (Geom) and "demon" (Ma)—Kang Geomma.
I wanted to delete it immediately, like resetting a nickname, but my father in this world apparently spent a fortune to get it from a naming philosophy hall. There was some bullshit theory here that the lower the prestige of your name, the longer you lived. Still, naming your own son "demon" seemed a bit much.
...I wanted to change it, but thanks to some uselessly realistic laws requiring parental consent for minors, I have to live with this name at least until I become an adult.
Anyway, minor name issues aside, life was manageable.
We were slightly below middle class, but we were a harmonious family with no lack of necessities. And by some stroke of luck, the setting of Miracle Blessing M was Korea. That helped narrow the gap between my original world and this one. Names, locations, and geography were almost identical, save for minor differences of a letter or two.
Thanks to that, I was getting by, living the life of a teenage boy born with a bronze spoon in his mouth.
Back on Earth, my family went bankrupt when I was in high school, so I spent my youth washing dishes and cleaning at a local Japanese restaurant. Just being able to eat three warm meals of stew and rice a day was a blessing I was deeply grateful for.
One year passed like that. Just as I was starting to forget this place was even a game, a piece of paper arrived at our house, as if to drive home the point: Nope, this isn't reality.
An admission letter to Joaquin Academy.
* * *
ADMISSION NOTICE
Examinee Number: 4982-A
Name: Kang Geomma
We are pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to our academy for the academic year 2034. Please comply with the following instructions.
– Date & Time: April 17, 2034, at 09:00
– Location: Joaquin Academy Grand Auditorium
– Requirements: Personal Armament and belongings
* * *
"Oh my goodness! Look at this, honey!"
"Bwahahaha! Geomma, you are the pride of our Seori Kang clan! I knew your name would bring you good fortune. I'm so proud of you, my son!"
My parents congratulated me, their faces flushed with excitement. I had to stop them from going down to the ancestral home of the Seori Kang clan to slaughter a pig in celebration. Seriously, though, our clan seat is Seori? Did our ancestors make a living stealing crops or something?
"...Sigh."
A deep sigh escaped my lips. I couldn't stop my brow from furrowing as the admission date drew closer.
My modest plan to live a normal life in a bronze-spoon family had gone completely down the drain. Fuck.
How the hell did this guy, Kang Geomma, even pass?
The situation was this: before I possessed him, the original Kang Geomma had awakened a blessing, taken the entrance exam for Joaquin Academy, and passed.
Blessings were usually hereditary. Prominent hero families arranged marriages in advance to solidify their vested interests, and Joaquin Academy was born from that background. It was a school exclusively for the upper class, where the children of hero families sized each other up and forged their futures.
Of course, with other academy cadets entering with a whole array of blessings, there was nothing particularly outstanding about me.
Usually, those who didn't come from hero families found meaning simply in being admitted as Special Admission Students.
Honestly, even now, as I packed my bags, I still wondered how this guy had managed to pass.
Just how well did he do on the written exam? Thanks to him, I was about to live the life of a student, a path I never expected to take.
"A blessing, huh..."
When I muttered "Blessing" in my mind, a status window popped up before my eyes.
* * *
[Blessing of Painlessness]
All pain completely vanishes.
[※ Duration: 30 seconds, Cooldown: 12 hours]
* * *
Looking at the blessing Kang Geomma had awakened only made me feel gloomy. The ability itself seemed quite attractive.
The problem was that while the duration was a measly 30 seconds, the cooldown was a whopping 12 hours. It was an active time of exactly one minute per day.
Snorting, I rolled my eyes, but then my gaze stopped at the corner of the status window.
Right, I had this too.
The blessing newly granted to me, not the original Kang Geomma, upon arriving here.
* * *
[Blessing of the Sword God]
If you cut, it will be severed.
[※ The blessing only activates when using a sword with a blade length of 30 cm or less and a width of less than 5 cm.]
* * *
His name is Geomma (Sword Demon), but his blessing is the Sword God.
Talk about a contradictory concept.
The incredibly simple description, which contrasted sharply with the grandiose name, felt rather mysterious.
Among everything, the condition stood out the most.
A blade length of 30 centimeters or less, and a width of less than 5 centimeters. It was a size too pitiful to even be called a sword in the first place.
The dimensions were the exact match of the sashimi knives I had held my entire life. I wondered if the game was telling me to slice raw fish here, too.
Of course, it was something I was good at and enjoyed, but I wanted to live this newly granted life a bit differently.
But what could do when the system's counterforce was shoving a blade into my hands? I was just glad the dimensions didn't limit me to a paring knife.
...Life really never goes the way you want it to.
"Phew."
I let out a short sigh and was about to finish packing my bags when—
"Ah, right. I didn't pack an armament."
Come to think of it, the family treasures and armaments of the characters in the game flashed through my mind.
Even the lowest E-rank armament cost tens of millions of won, while an average C-rank cost hundreds of millions. A-rank or S-rank armaments were national treasures just by existing.
I pondered for a moment, then shook my head.
My family, being just ordinary middle class, didn't have the financial leeway to afford such mind-bogglingly expensive armaments.
The tuition alone for the academy was murderous by our standards. Since I was being dragged into this admission anyway, I didn't want to add any unnecessary expenses.
Still, it was clearly listed as a required item, and if I didn't bring one, I'd probably stand out in a bad way from day one...
After a moment of thought, I stood up and grabbed my wallet.
"Let's head to Daixo."
'A master doesn't blame his equipment.'
That was the favorite saying of my first master, who ironically insisted on using only million-won Japanese sashimi knives.
* * *
"...Cadet. Is this really your weapon?"
"Yes."
On the day of the entrance ceremony, the instructor looked back and forth between the black-haired cadet and the armament inspection table.
He wanted to scowl and snap, 'Are you kidding me right now?' but the boy's utterly nonchalant attitude left him dumbfounded. Staring blankly at the cadet's face, the instructor lowered his gaze once more.
On the inspection table lay an unopened package. A fluorescent sticker reading "30% Off" and the Daixo brand logo stood out prominently. It wasn't even a single knife, but a bundle of ten.
In his ten years as an instructor, he had never seen or heard of such an armament. Honestly, he doubted if it could even be classified as one.
Swallowing his words, the instructor hardened his expression.
"Cadet, do you think this academy is a joke? Do you honestly think it makes sense to use a mere paring knife like this as your weapon for today's entrance exam?"
Yes, if it was a prank, he was willing to let it slide just this once. Since this was the world's best academy attended by the children of the upper class, there were often immature, mischievous students. It was a purely adolescent desire to try and get one over on the faculty.
Although playing such a prank on the very first day of school was quite shocking, discipline had to be established right from the start. The most effective tactic against this type of cadet was to establish dominance early on.
The instructor's eyes narrowed sharply. The cadet tilted his head slightly, looking completely oblivious.
"This is indeed my armament."
The boy's tone, which was cheeky yet somehow polite, caused the instructor's furrowed brow to smooth out without him realizing it. Sensing the shift, the boy began to explain his reasons point by point.
"Instructor, as a Special Admission Student from an ordinary family, I couldn't afford to bring an expensive armament. The tuition alone must have been a huge burden on my parents. How could I, as their son, commit such filial impiety by demanding an expensive weapon just for my own sake?"
"..."
A clear, articulate voice paired with intelligent eyes.
Hearing the circumstances, the instructor rubbed his face. Indeed, for Special Admission Students who weren't from the upper class, the academy's tuition alone would have been overwhelming.
To think that he, a member of an academy that was supposed to be an equal ground for learning, had let prejudice blind him into cornering such a thoughtful, filial son.
The 30% discount sticker must have been the cadet's way of minimizing the financial burden on his parents as much as possible. The instructor's eyes grew slightly warm.
Without stopping, the boy added a final, decisive blow.
"And... I believe only amateurs blame their equipment."
The instructor flinched. This was hardly a line one would expect from a teenage boy. There was a deep sense of experience in his words, as if he had once reached the absolute pinnacle of a field.
'A master doesn't blame his equipment.'
Feeling a profound sense of gravity, the instructor pondered how to respond before deciding to support the boy's resolve. He wanted to cast a vote of confidence for that steadfast pride.
"I hereby approve this cadet's armament for possession."
"Thank you, Instructor."
He couldn't help but wish he had a son like him.
"Cadet, what is your name?"
"I am Kang Geomma."
Kang Geomma bowed politely, then swept the bundle of knives into his bag.
The other cadets standing in line nearby sneered at him. Seeing this, a thick vein throbbed on the instructor's temple.
"Cadets! Quiet down and move quickly! Keep the line moving!"
"..."
Leaving the mockery behind, Kang Geomma casually packed the rest of his things and walked away.
"Depending on your behavior, I can be an angel or a demon. Understood?!"
"Yes..."
"Look at you, your voices are too quiet. Understood?!"
"Yes!"
As the instructor bellowed, veins bulging in his neck, the cadets' smug expressions instantly vanished.
"Kang Geomma, huh..."
The instructor muttered the boy's name under his breath.
A chuckle escaped him as he watched the departing back of the boy who had left such a deep impression.
It was a name that sounded like he would wield a blade damn well.
* * *
In the academy staff lounge,
"Phew..."
The male instructor, looking exhausted after finishing guiding the cadets, opened the door. A woman with a sharp bob cut smiled and waved at him.
"Good work, Senior."
"Yeah, thanks. Man, I'm glad this is only an annual event. I'm only in my early thirties, but I feel like I've aged a decade already."
Tossing off his black staff coat, the instructor collapsed onto the sofa. He massaged his stiff shoulders, applying firm pressure with his hands.
"Don't worry, Senior. They say people who look old when they're young end up looking younger later in life, right?"
"Why, you..."
"Hehe. Anyway, did you see this year's cadet roster? There are about a dozen kids who are the kind of geniuses you'd normally only see once in a generation."
"I did."
When the instructor responded flatly, his junior asked with a curious look.
"Did any cadet catch your eye during the armament inspection, Senior?"
"Hmm, let's see."
The instructor stroked his chin, pondering for a moment. Suddenly, the face of a certain cadet flashed through his mind.
"Actually, yeah, there is one."
"Oh, really? Who is it? The Spear Saint's nephew? The Archery Saint's daughter? Or is it the Sword Emperor's granddaughter? It's her, right?!"
"No, not them. There's a Special Admission Student. His eyes were bright and sharp, and I really liked him. He's incredibly mature."
"Huh—I don't think I've ever heard you praise anyone like that before. I'm curious, tell me who it is!"
Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. The male instructor chuckled softly and shrugged.
"It's no fun if I tell you now. Just watch later. You'll know him the moment you see him."
"If he's a Special Admission Student, his blessing probably isn't anything special... Is his armament A-rank? Or could it be S-rank?! Just tell me what kind of weapon he uses. I want to keep an eye on him during the entrance exam later."
The instructor rolled his eyes, then smirked as he replied.
"A Daixo sashimi knife."