Chapter 3. The Oath

I'd expected not to hear anything pleasant, but I hadn't anticipated him flying off the handle quite like this.

"So you really do want to die, huh? Marching in here with that shameless face of yours. Fine! I'll kill you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠myself!"

"Dad, let's just calm down first—"

"Calm? Calm?!"

My father's eyes flared up, veins bulging stiffly along his neck.

"Does it look like I can calm down right now?! Because of you, Cheonseong's image has cratered so deep it's swimming in the groundwater beneath the basement!"

A corporation's image matters. Why else would conglomerates burn hundreds, sometimes thousands, of billions of won a month just on image management?

Cheonseong was especially sensitive to it, since its roots were planted firmly in the hunter industry. In this day and age, hunters were the biggest celebrities on the planet, bar none. If ugly rumors started circulating, or a boycott began to gain traction, and top-ranked hunters joined the chorus, the damage snowballed beyond imagining.

In fact, in my previous life, something very similar had happened, and Cheonseong collapsed spectacularly for it. So thoroughly that a comeback became all but impossible.

Not that it'll happen this time.

I would stop it with everything I had.

"You may not be able to take responsibility for what you've done, but the least you could do is show some remorse! Have you ever once in your life said the word sorry—!"

"I'm sorry."

"You—! ...What?"

I bent slowly at the waist, bowing with the crown of my head directed toward my father.

"I'm sorry. Truly, truly... I have no face to show you."

"Wh-what..."

I could see his brow twitching. He clearly never dreamed I would actually apologize.

But what choice did I have? I needed his forgiveness, no matter what.

"I won't make excuses about wanting to impress you. My actions damaged the Cheonseong name... and in the end, they hurt you, and the family."

To the man who'd had to endure the thoughtless brat I used to be.

"Once again—I'm truly sorry."

I did not kneel. My father had never cared for men with light knees.

"..."

My father froze, a bewildered look on his face. He was so utterly off-balance it hardly suited the man they called Lee Jin-sung, the Cold-Blooded Strategist.

"...Now, of all times, you apologize?"

"..."

"You should never have apologized. If you truly want forgiveness, then words aren't what you owed me. You owed me action."

The sins I'd piled up couldn't be washed away with a few apologies. Nobody knew that better than I did.

So then—starting now, I would act.

Thud!

My knees hit the floor.

"What... do you think you're doing?"

My father's face twisted savagely. He probably assumed I was groveling for forgiveness, the way people do when they've run out of goodwill to spend.

But what I was about to do was not an act of contrition.

"I have a request."

"A request?"

"Yes. Grant me just two things, and I will recover every ounce of the infamy hanging over Cheonseong right now."

"...Ha. And what exactly should I trust in you for?"

"I can offer you no trust. I have nothing to put up as collateral. That's why I'm offering you my knees instead."

I looked up at my father with unflinching eyes.

"From today until the day I die, for the rest of my life—I will never kneel again."

A flicker of something unfamiliar crossed my father's eyes. He had unmistakably read sincerity in my words and actions.

He asked quietly, "What are these requests?"

"A one-month grace period. And the raiding rights to the C-rank gate that appeared in Daegu."

"...What?"

I declared it proudly, without a shred of retreat.

"I will clear the C-rank gate. Alone."

After the storm named Lee Tae-hyun swept through the representative's office, Lee Jin-sung sat in his chair and slowly replayed the scene in his mind.

"...I don't even know what's what anymore."

It was as if the boy were a completely different person. Had some evil spirit taken up residence in that wretched son of his? Nothing short of that explained the change. Or was it an act, some performance to defuse his anger?

No. It wasn't.

If that had been acting, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Lee Tae-hyun would have become a superstar on stage. And his emotions hadn't come across wrong, either. At the exact moment resolve and determination should have been pouring off him—

He looked sad. And at the same time, happy.

So in the end, the damn boy was his own flesh and blood after all.

Originally, he'd planned to thrash him within an inch of his life the moment he walked through the door.

"I've gone soft, haven't I."

Lee Jin-sung picked up the phone on his desk and dialed a familiar number.

"Yeah, it's me. That C-rank gate that showed up in Daegu—did one actually appear?"

He'd grown curious. What those rebellious knees of his were really worth.

The first thing I did after leaving the representative's office was sort through everything I owned. The designer clothes filling my closet, the watches, the luxury goods, the high-grade weapons I never used. Back then I'd been obsessed with things like these; now they were nothing more than clutter gathering dust in my house.

"Wow. It's huge."

Once I finished cleaning, the living room that had once felt the size of a soccer field seemed to open up into an endless plain. I was wiping the sweat from my brow, savoring the satisfaction, when my phone chimed.

"Oh, as expected—fast."

I'd sold everything off as quickly as possible. Taking more time would have fetched better prices, but right now, time was life itself.

The C-rank gate. As of this moment, I was a freshly awakened rookie with D-rank potential, nothing more. So why was I so determined to raid a C-rank gate?

Because something incredible comes out of that one.

It had been a genuinely unexpected turn of events. In my previous life, the raiding rights to that gate had gone to Solion Guild. A forgettable mid-sized guild, but thanks to what they obtained there, they became the talk of the industry practically overnight.

Not that the ending was pretty.

The incident had been so shocking it stayed burned into my memory. The guild leader slaughtered every one of his own members and went on a rampage before finally being subdued. That would not be happening this time.

The second reason is... proof.

My current image boiled down to a single word: coward. The bastard who abandoned his party members to die in a B-rank gate and ran. But there was a hidden story behind that, and even if I told it now, it would only come across as excuses and sleight of hand.

To give weight to my words, I had to prove myself. A solo clear of a C-rank gate would make plenty of an impact—on paper it was C-rank, but clearing it alone took B-rank strength.

"And for that, first comes training!"

Curling the corner of my mouth upward, I checked the balance in my account. Stripping the house bare and selling it all had brought in roughly 13 billion won.

"Sold for a decent price, too."

Cheonseong, indeed. They were thorough to a fault where money was concerned.

Then let's start with this.

First, I ordered top-grade recovery potions in bulk. About 10 million won a bottle—100 bottles came to 1 billion won.

With this money, getting my hands on true elixirs is impossible.

Any elixir with a real reputation started at a minimum of 30 billion won. The Volcano Sect's Zixiao Dan from the martial realm gates cost even more, and the Shaolin Dahuan Dan went for whatever the seller dared to ask.

Unfortunately, even if I swallowed those elixirs now, I couldn't fully enjoy their effects. And drinking cheap, bottom-shelf elixirs suited to my budget would be like drinking seawater—it might quench my thirst for the moment, but in terms of overall growth, it was poison. More than anything, at this stage, taking one more ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠step and training one more minute did far more for me than a single high-grade elixir ever would.

"Whew... hoo!"

One more full lap around the park. From 2 a.m. until 9 in the morning—895 laps without a single break.

"Haaah... hah... hah."

My legs wobbled and my lungs felt ready to burst. And each time, I cracked open a potion and wet my cracked, gasping lips.

The exhaustion clinging to my body was wiped away without a trace. And then it was back to training.

"Hoo... that hits the spot."

After roughly a thousand laps like that, I returned home, washed off the sweat and dust with a quick shower, and put the exercise equipment in the living room to use.

It'd be a disaster if anyone recognized me.

My infamy still lingered. Even in my previous life, until my name was buried after "that incident," I could hardly walk the streets freely.

Every time I drove my body to its limits, the Body stat climbed.

"This is... insane?"

Setting down the dumbbell in my hand, I clenched my fist tight. Then I took a light step forward and threw a punch into the air.

Whoosh!

Shh-wish!

My fist cut through empty air with a sharp, keening whistle.

"The balance of my body is perfect."

Simply raising stats wasn't the whole answer. Time was limited, and there were only seven stats to raise—narrow it to physical stats, and just three remained. Depending on the weapon you inevitably used and the role you played, either stamina, strength, or agility would spike disproportionately.

And that's where the limits show.

Lose your balance, and eventually you fall. But raise all three evenly? You'd end up with a pathetically small triangle.

"That change to my status window... might be a greater fortune than I realized."

By contrast, the physical balance created by the unified Body stat was golden. Nothing tipped too far in one direction, yet nothing sat in an ambiguous middle ground either. Three forces aligned in perfect equilibrium, feeding off each other in synergy.

"Shall I... test it out?"

My eyes landed on the tall mop leaning against the wall. It was a bit grimy from all the cleaning, but the length wasn't half bad for a makeshift spear.

"Whew..."

Sweat beaded in my palms. This would be the first spear technique I unleashed in this life. The body itself had been stronger in my last one, doping-soaked on every elixir imaginable—

But with this balance...

Maybe I could reach a realm I never touched before.

Gripping the mop, I unfurled the spearwork engraved into my soul. The fundamental motions of the spear.

"Hah!"

Ln (Block)—rotating the spear outward to deflect.

Vwoom!

Na (Take)—coiling inward, dragging and pressing down.

Vwooom! Hwoong!

And then—!

Zha ()—a lightning-quick thrust.

CRASH!

"Huh?"

The instant I finished the thrust, an unbelievable sight spread before me. The tip of the mop had punched clean through the living room wall.

And that wasn't all.

"The whole area's a mess, too."

Even the heavy exercise equipment had all been knocked flat.

This much power, from these stats?

Even I was left slack-jawed. If what was in my hand had been a real spear instead of a mop...

"...I'll be practicing spearwork outside from now on."

Two more swings like that and the house might actually come down.

"Oh."

The achievement reward had come through properly, too. I was just pulling the still-embedded mop out of the wall and reaching for my phone to call a contractor when—

An impossible message hung in the air before me.

A skill? Wait... a skill?

"What is this...?"

Even in my previous life, plenty of awakened hunters wielded the spear. In China, there was even a guild called Yunchang that accepted only spear users.

The ones who kept challenging me to duels over the title of greatest spear under heaven. What a nuisance they were.

But among all of them, not a single one had ever acquired Lan-Na-Zha as a skill.

And no wonder—Lan-Na-Zha was the most basic of basics. Rotate, deflect, thrust. Nothing special about it, no secret technique, no spear dance.

"And it's an A-rank skill, no less."

I pulled up the skill's detailed information.

What is this?

This is straight-up broken.