An Unexpected Encounter
In his past life, Ivan had been an exceptionally model, law-abiding citizen.
Not only had he never raised a hand against another person, but he naturally had never been struck by anyone, either.
Even after dropping into this game world, the hardship had only lasted for the very beginning. Once he acquired a decent measure of strength, he had never felt any real crisis.
Ivan was simply too strong, and the wild beasts and monsters prowling the woods were so pathetically weak they bordered on boring.
Which meant that taking a proper punch was, for the first time in his entire life, happening right now.
"...Guh-ack!"
The air rushed violently out of his lungs. Overwhelmed by a searing agony he had never experienced before, his body doubled over on pure instinct.
"Get up. I barely tapped you, so quit the theatrics."
Far from exploiting the opening to press his attack, the old man came to a leisurely halt and looked down at Ivan.
Gasping desperately for air, Ivan choked back ragged breaths as sheer disbelief engulfed him.
What kind of damn monster is this?
He had known from the start that the old geezer was no ordinary person.
Yet no matter how powerful his opponent seemed, Ivan had never once doubted his own victory.
It was an unshakeable faith born from the absurdly robust body of a game character thrust upon him, reinforced by the monumental strength he had meticulously built through relentless training.
And now, that very faith was splintering apart. Ivan's eyes trembled.
"Look at this ill-mannered punk. An elder is speaking, and you've got the gall to hang your head?"
The moment the old man raised his fist, Ivan instinctively threw up his guard.
Boom! Even through the block, a monstrous shockwave reverberated straight into the marrow of his bones.
As Ivan staggered backward, the old man slowly matched his stride, raining heavy blows against his guard without mercy.
"All you do is run away. Did I misjudge you?"
Run away. The instant that word hit his ears, an incandescent fury flared up inside Ivan's chest.
Far from landing a blow, the sight of himself cowering like a turtle just because he took a single hit was unbearable, utterly suffocating him with shame.
You miserable old bastard...!
This time, Ivan snatched the old man's incoming wrist.
Then, tossing aside any lingering worry that he might accidentally kill his opponent, he drove an all-out punch straight into the old man's flank.
Klang! The impact rang out like iron striking steel rather than flesh hitting bone.
A dull numbness coursed back through Ivan's striking hand. Yet, beyond any doubt, the sensation of impact was real.
Ivan was certain that the blow had landed solidly.
"Your fists have some bite. Still nothing more than a fledgling, though."
The old man spat out a glob of blood-streaked saliva.
Nonsense. Ivan whipped his leg out like a lash, but the old man casually leaned back, dodging by a hair's breadth.
The sound of air tearing apart echoed chillingly through the clearing.
Ivan pressed the assault relentlessly, but every single strike missed by a paper-thin margin. The gap felt close enough to touch, yet unimaginably vast.
Suddenly, the old man lost his footing and stumbled. Ivan refused to let the opening slip and unleashed a devastating haymaker.
"Naive brat. You actually bought that?"
In that split second, the old man slipped fluidly into Ivan's guard, seized his fully extended arm, and slammed him bodily into the dirt.
Crash! A thunderous boom echoed as the ground caved inward, carving a deep crater into the earth.
"Cough-hurk!"
Unable to absorb the catastrophic impact, Ivan's body locked up rigid. A dark trail of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Struggling to lift his head, he peered up at the old man. Winning this fight seemed utterly impossible.
I might actually die here.
Yet even as the thought crossed his mind, Ivan felt the corners of his lips curling upward against his will.
The worthy rival he had yearned for so desperately—no, an insurmountable wall—stood right before his eyes. The razor-thin line dividing life and death began to blur.
"...Heh."
"You're grinning? Now that's entertaining."
As if in answer, the old man flashed a bright smile and brought his heel crashing down.
Ivan rolled frantically across the dirt to dodge the stomp. He had no luxury to spare for petty emotions like wounded pride.
Scrambling back to his feet, Ivan traded blows with everything he had, even while getting pulverized just as one-sidedly as before.
He blocked what he could, braced through what he couldn't dodge, and endured the punishment with raw grit. Even when his punches failed to land, he swung with desperate savagery.
At the same time, his eyes burned the old man's movements into memory—the trajectory of his fists, the way he planted his feet, even the subtle cadence of his breathing.
Ivan was practically begging for instruction. No, stealing it was a far more accurate description.
His attacks still cleaved empty air, but they dug in with far greater precision.
A semblance of balance settled into his rough, feral stance.
His erratic, ragged panting gradually smoothed into a steady rhythm.
They were minor adjustments, but as they piled up one by one, the resulting shift was nothing short of monumental.
The old man's brow twitched as he registered the change. It was growth so rapid that even witnessing it firsthand defied belief.
With every clash they traded, Ivan evolved visibly. Compared to where he started, he was practically a different fighter altogether.
Ivan's backward retreat gradually slowed until, in an instant, his feet planted firmly.
The balance of power locked into place. A wide grin broke across Ivan's face.
"Hey, old geezer. What's with the bug-eyed look? Losing your steam already?"
"Arrogant little whelp..."
Smack! Ivan's fist slammed flush against the old man's jaw. It was his second clean hit of the day.
A surge of untamable exhilaration rushed through Ivan as he unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks, trading blow for blow without pause.
His joints creaked and his muscles screamed in agony, but against the sheer thrill pulsing through his veins, even that felt trivial.
Yes, just a little more. Just a tiny bit further...!
His foot slipped on the patch of ground slick with blood and sweat. The old man did not miss the fatal lapse.
Watching the fist cruise toward his jaw in agonizing slow motion, Ivan felt a pang of bitter regret.
Just a little more, and I would've grasped it...!
In that instant, a spark erupted in his mind. A raw, unrefined enlightenment flashed through his consciousness.
His body moved before thought could catch up. Slipping smoothly inside the old man's reach, Ivan caught the outstretched arm and drove him straight down into the dirt.
Almost simultaneously with the deafening crash, a crater even deeper than the previous one caved into the earth.
Ivan stood dazed, trying desperately to hold onto the revelation still echoing in his head.
"GWAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Plowed deep into the dirt, the old man erupted into ear-splitting, thunderous laughter.
He laughed for a long while before springing back to his feet as if nothing had happened.
"It feels like I gave away far too much teaching in exchange for a single meal. What do you say, brat?"
Ivan instinctively started to argue, then paused to reconsider. To be honest, the old man was right.
"...Fair enough. What do you want?"
"Circumstances require me to hole up around here for a while. Let me crash at your place. While I'm staying, I'll pass the time by teaching you how to throw a proper punch and swing a blade."
It was an offer with zero downsides. Ivan nodded without hesitation.
"Deal. Though calling you 'elder' feels awkward. What should I call you from now on?"
"Well, looking at us, the age gap doesn't seem that wide anyway. Just call me big bro."
Ivan glared at the old man with all the sheer disgust he could muster.
"I'll just call you Master."
"Tsk, this is why youngsters these days..."
Ivan promptly clamped his hands over his ears.
"Master, let's take turns carrying this thing."
Ivan gestured with his chin toward the massive bear slung over his back.
"You insolent bastard. You dare try to work an old man with one foot in the grave?"
"You seemed bursting with energy a moment ago. Funny how you only play the frail card at times like this."
"That's because you're a pathetic weakling. Back in my day—"
As the two traded shameless insults, Ivan suddenly remembered something he had completely forgotten.
Caked in blood, sweat, and grime, their bodies were radiating a stench that defied human description.
"Master, just curious, but when was the last time you washed?"
"How the hell should I know? That's the kind of thing only little girls keep track of."
Ivan's expression hardened as he tossed over a bar of greenish soap.
He had discovered it purely by chance, but soap rendered from goblin fat boasted an absurdly potent cleansing ability.
"Stop talking nonsense and go scrub yourself clean with this. You're not stepping a single foot back home until you do."
The old man threw a loud fit of protests, but Ivan flatly ignored him. Allowing that filthy carcass into his home was completely out of the question.
"Tsk, you rotten brat. Fine, I'll wash, if only out of sheer spite!"
The only truly disgusting thing here is you.
Had taking this lunatic as a master been a terrible mistake? Sighing deeply, Ivan scouted around for a spot to wash himself.
Fortunately, a suitable pond caught his eye. Without a second thought, Ivan prepared to dive into the water.
Or at least, he would have—had his eyes not locked onto a woman already bathing there right at that exact moment.
"...Huh?"
Caught completely off guard, Ivan's eyes shook in utter disbelief.