It Actually Worked?
There were no zombies on the way up. The air smelled of damp earth. I arrived at the door to the rooftop.
"Hoo."
I drew my sword for a quick check. The rapier from Geomseong. In an age that had pushed swords aside, only the thrust had survived as a weapon.
...A weapon made for thrusting.
The rapier she'd given me looked like something from the transitional era of modern rapiers. The relatively short blade was a dark teal, like tea leaves. The more light it caught, the more the color seemed to hide. As if it were a shadow existing solely for the thrust.
...She said she refined and sharpened it herself.
I took a deep breath. Recalling Geomseong's lecture, I opened the door.
Kiiik—.
A faint metallic scrape clawed at the back of my neck. Like iron biting into my nape. My mind flashed, clearing the ripples in my head.
"Hoo."
I steadied my breath and took a step forward. One step. Another. The tattered golem was still crouched silently in the center of the rooftop. A massive lump of flesh. Stitches twisting like rivers. Eerily quiet. Like a newborn baby.
If luck's on my side, I can end it in one go.
I crossed the rooftop quietly. Praying my footsteps were lighter than the wind. Simple phrases echoed in my mind. The first move wins half the battle. Strike first to claim victory. Clichés.
If luck holds, I can finish without grappling.
—Ultimately, shattering its core was the key.
Beyond the rooftop railing, harsh sunlight blazed. Light slid off the blade like water. My eyes stung a bit. The breeze was humid, the air strangely heavy. The stairs and iron door to the next floor stretched absurdly into empty air. Everything felt unreal, yet my mind was sharper than ever. I gripped the sword tight so it wouldn't slip.
And—finally, I arrived. Behind the golem. Right there.
Before me loomed the twisted back of its flesh-mass head. About half an arm's length below, near the heart. To stab or not... the choice was mine.
First... alignment, she said.
I steadied my breath again. Alignment, center, penetration. I recalled Geomseong's teachings.
—A thrust is gathering your mind into a single resolve. The sword points not from the hand, but the heart. It's not the sword piercing the foe—it's you passing through.
I held my breath. Gripped the sword twisted. Focused sensation below my elbow. From toes to crown, my body tensed in a straight line.
Alignment—.
Then I dug in my heels. Planted my feet, anchoring my body to the ground. Knees slightly bent and pulled back. Hips, abdomen, shoulders, fingertips—all joints locked into one trajectory.
Center—.
Now inhale, building power until I couldn't hold more. And I thought: End it at this one point. I can end it.
It's not the sword piercing. When the body, center, focus passes through the gap, the sword flows naturally.
—In other words, a thrust is the body advancing to match the sword.
Sensations in my body were sharper than ever. The moment resolve hardened, I extended.
Penetration—.
Recoil surged from my toes. The rapier's tip aimed dead at the golem's heart. Trajectory unwavering, barrel steady. Perfect.
Plunk!
Clean entry. Sensation perfect. Too perfect, like it was lying.
"......"
I froze. The feeling at my fingertips screamed pierced.
Kiririk.
Then the tattered golem slowly raised its head.
So... nothing caught on the tip. Not pierced—missed.
I'd failed to hit the core, stabbed off-target.
"Fuck. Botched the opener."
The Backrooms Gallery hosted all sorts of races. No one tallied the exact number, but any intelligent being that could type was there. Cultures and customs varied wildly, leading to different mindsets, ethics, morals—but one thing united them strangely.
Three options this time:
1. Kim Hogu dies
2. Tattered Golem dies
3. Kim Hogu runs
Made a betting board, lay your gold down lololol
Gallery's favorite shared pastime: betting.
Gallers dove into serious debate.
High-nicks got hyped and started betting.
Even usually pro-Kim Hogu folks like Scavenger and NoPension turned cold for bets.
Bet host BobEatAndDie (Bob EatAndDie) calculated odds.
Roughly 6:1:3 split on gold bet.
Most gallers bet on Kim Hogu dying.
To win big, bet golem death... but greed backfires sometimes.
3—Kim Hogu runs. That's the safe play?
BobEatAndDie agonized. Where to bet for safe gains? For a comfy gourmet life, needed to hit big on these events...
Right then.
BobEatAndDie scowled.
Thought it was quiet this time...
Dogs don't stop shitting. As his gripe ended, betting ratios flipped instantly.
...Gasp.
BobEatAndDie checked the board and inhaled sharply. High-nick JointSong had dumped 100,000 gold on 2—Tattered Golem dies.
"......"
Time froze. Deathly silence blanketed the gallery. Bettors panicked.
"......"
BobEatAndDie swallowed. JointSong. Appeared in bets with high hit rates.
...Smelled something special?
He pondered long, then cautiously bet.
Then minimized the gallery window.
BAM!
The floor exploded upward. The tattered golem's massive arm had just slammed down.
I rolled back, escaping its attack range. Breath already ragged. Arms heavy, legs numb. Even the light rapier felt like lead.
...Fuck. Run now?
I caught my breath, thinking. Another chance later. But... didn't sit right. Running might become habit.
—Whish.
The golem twisted, spinning. Its intestine-like arm whipped out.
I flattened to the ground. The arm grazed overhead.
Whoosh. A few hairs on top sheared off.
I inhaled backward. Gripped the sword again.
...Alignment. Again, center. ...Penetrate.
Raised trembling arm, kicked off explosively. Toward its heart area. Stabbed again.
Plunk.
Body launched, sword sank right. Definitely pierced.
But nothing caught the tip. Whiff again.
"...Goddamn."
Then it grotesquely bent its arm, swinging vertically. I backpedaled reflexively—too slow. In that split-second hesitation, capillaries on my cheek burst.
Pop! Skin tearing. Wound from air pressure alone.
A direct hit would've shredded me.
This is wrong. Just run.
From the moment breath broke, it was all-in gambling. Hold longer, I'd die for sure.
That resolve hit as I panted.
"......?"
Something odd caught my eye.
That...?
Its body twisted grotesquely overall, but right flank didn't. Precisely between chest and side. No movement, no tremor, no force transfer.
...Definite.
Reading the rippling body's grain, that spot screamed unnatural.
...Good. Last time. Alignment.
...One more.
I recalled Geomseong's teachings. Closed eyes, slowly reviewing. Twisted grip, aligned every body line to the sword. Poured mind to that one point, solely there.
Center—.
Right then.
Crack.
Rupture from inside. Something splitting. Not heard—felt.
Crack. Crack.
Indescribable. Not ears—nerves ringing. Eerie.
Peripheral blurred, but golem's body sharpened. Structures beyond skin, flesh, muscle etched in my mind.
"......?"
Golem's joints, pre-tensed muscles, movements—visible. No, known.
And certainty hit.
...Now.
Penetration—.
I held the sword, but it thrust. Body shot forward, perfectly aligned to the point's path.
Plunk.
Sword flowed along the grain.
Crunch. Caught.
Riiip. Pierced.
Plunk. Through.
"...Fuck. Got it."
The tattered golem's body swelled slightly, then exploded like a bomb.
"Cough."
It blew up right in my face, so I chugged bright red and yellowish fluids straight.
"Ugh, gross."
Fishy, rotten, metallic, sour. Dry-heaved and puked, but aftertaste lingered.
"Agh."
Snapped a pic after recovering, posted to gallery.
(Tattered Golem remains pic)
Thanks Geomseong. Did exactly as you taught and it worked fr lol
Wait, this was easier than expected why'd everyone say don't do it? lol;;;;
Gallers' attention flooded in as predicted.
Comments froze unnaturally.
Check status? Why?
Curiosity brief, I opened as DeepSeaPoet said.
"Huh?"
A totally unexpected new ability in combat protocol.
I checked status again. Insight. Focusing on it, head throbbed faintly. Vision blurred peripherally, zeroing on one spot. Exactly the sensation before that thrust.
"Oh right. Corpse."
Late to check tattered golem remains. Grimaced at stench, rummaged deep—jackpot. Five orbs twice normal size.
"Jackpot."
Checked for more; under flesh, yellow glow. What? Picked up, wiped blood: apple.
...Apple here why?
Gallery hushed again.
"Golden apple?"
Definitely yellowish. But not golden glow.