Bokchi's Resolve
The story begins with a return to the 32nd round match against Kirin Guild.
Before the Divine Beast Derby that had flipped the skies and split the earth, Lee Shin had called Park Su-bin aside. Then he spoke.
“Bokchi, this matchup against Han Jeong-do won’t go the way you think.”
According to Lee Shin, the man himself was nothing special, but as a tool he was all-purpose. If Kim Jong-phil, the Mountain King, was the father of the modern position, then the man who had revealed that versatility to the world in the most dramatic fashion—the very symbol and final form of adaptability—was none other than the Ten Thousand King, Han Jeong-do.
And Lee Shin had said that Park Su-bin would struggle greatly against him.
“If they break through, they’ll target you instead of Yu Ri-ra or the old man. And the odds are high they’ll succeed.”
At the time, Park Su-bin had felt a flicker of irritation inside. Honestly, he had been confident that no one would break through him. It wasn’t because people around him kept calling him a once-in-a-generation genius monster. Even if he couldn’t cross the timeline of speed like Yu Ri-ra, or see the world through a mystical eye like Baek Yeon-woo, he could still hear it.
— !◎#!◎#0.89679a◎#.
A voice from an unknown existence that had been speaking to him for some time. It had first whispered to him when he summoned the light sphere. In truth, he only realized this being was real during the off-season training camp in North Korea. Before that, he had thought it was just a form of enlightenment. But the moment he equipped the four-piece set of ‘Karakum’ that Lee Shin had given him, the distant existence had recognized him.
Long story short, this being always spoke in incomprehensible words, yet its will was intense.
‘Unbreakable, undissolvable, uncollapsible, unassailable……’
From the moment he heard that will, Park Su-bin had truly become an iron wall. Highest survival rate among all mids within 15 minutes. 100% mid-tower defense rate within 15 minutes, ranked first. Zero instances of his tower being destroyed before the opponent’s, ranked first. He had never been breached, never collapsed even once. It was a monstrous performance.
That was why, this time, Park Su-bin had denied Lee Shin’s words. He would stop them. Just watch. He hadn’t argued outright, but he had shown a little—very, very little—resolve.
Lee Shin had looked slightly surprised, then smiled.
“Ho…… Our Bokchi’s gained some confidence? That’s a good sign. Yeah, if you’re the man I chose, you should at least have that much. I’ll be counting on you.”
A thrill ran through him. Recognition from the mentor he followed most made Park Su-bin want to dance. That’s right, he was confident too! He would never fall!
And then—
First Blood
‘Han Jeong-do’ has slain ‘Park Su-bin’.
Existence-nim……? You lied to me……?
In the end, Lee Shin had been right once again. The Ten Thousand King had severed Park Su-bin’s limbs with overwhelming experience and the legendary weapon, the Baekhwageom. Park Su-bin’s proud, miraculous mana control melted under the Ten Thousand King’s tricks, honed through countless battles on land, sea, and air. His iron wall was devoured by the blooming pure-white flowers.
Nothing worked. It felt as if the man already knew everything he would do. Meeting his eyes made it seem like every move was read. Eventually, Park Su-bin had even started to shrink back. It was a perfect hard counter. A complete defeat.
Park Su-bin had helplessly surrendered first blood and was forced to flee back to his tower like a deserter. He was ashamed. Of course, no one blamed him. Yu Ri-ra and the seniors told him not to worry. The Mountain King patted his shoulder. Baek Yeon-woo even said, “I wanted to crush that guy myself,” sounding almost pleased. The match itself had ended in victory, becoming one of the greatest games in history.
Yet after the game, Park Su-bin couldn’t join his celebrating teammates. He was too ashamed. What iron wall? What invincibility? He hated himself for being arrogant even after Lee Shin had warned him.
At that moment, someone ruffled the head of the dejected Park Su-bin in the corner. It was Lee Shin.
“Bokchi, everyone loses sometimes.”
Victory and defeat were commonplace in war. The truly first-rate were those who faced defeat head-on and found a path forward. And—
“You’re the one I chose. You’ll find that path soon enough. Don’t worry.”
Lee Shin’s unique brand of encouragement—planting certainty in others through powerful conviction rather than vague comfort. Today’s defeat would become the stepping stone for greater growth. Park Su-bin definitely had that talent.
But even Lee Shin had underestimated just how persistent Bokchi’s power could be once awakened. He hadn’t realized this comfort would drive Park Su-bin endlessly forward.
“Alright, I’ll find a way! I can do it!”
* * *
“……And that’s how I ended up headbutting the table like an idiot.”
“Exactly. Is there any way to beat Manwang holding the Baekhwageom? I ran hundreds of simulations over several days and couldn’t find one. Of course not. There was never an answer to begin with.”
Baek Yeon-woo, having said that much, looked at Park Su-bin with pity. The fans who had heard the whole story also looked at him.
“It’s impossible, it’s impossible! There’s no way. No matter how many times I try, it’s the same.”
Park Su-bin slammed the table with both hands and buried his head in frustration. If the fans had a mirror in front of their computers, they would have been shocked—their eyes looked remarkably similar to the salty, cooled gaze of Baek Yeon-woo on the monitor.
Manwang had held the pinnacle for forty years. A veteran monster who had devoured countless rookies with bizarre, unpredictable plays and decades of experience pulled from his age-worn pockets. If Park Su-bin had beaten him easily, that would have been the real controversy.
Moreover, it wasn’t just any Manwang. It was Manwang wielding the Baekhwageom. Items were undeniably part of a guild’s power, and information was usually kept hidden. For example, there had been much talk about Yu Ri-ra’s F. Colt Revolver, yet only a few knew its exact identity. Information this difficult for even guilds to obtain—yet there were two cases where even ordinary people could recognize it at a glance: when it was extremely dangerous, or extremely great. And the Baekhwageom was clearly the latter.
The divine sword representing China, called the nightmare of all mana users regardless of magic or sorcery. And it was in the hands of none other than Manwang? Baek Yeon-woo hadn’t been exaggerating when he declared it “absolutely impossible.” Even for the passionate Yongbung fans, losing after this level of preparation was objectively and humanly understandable.
Yet—
“Aagh! I-I thought I found a way just now, but it failed again.”
Park Su-bin was running simulations alone and headbutting the table again. He was seriously trying to find a way to beat Manwang and the Baekhwageom—a sixty-year veteran monster and one of the Five Great Divine Swords representing 1.3 billion Chinese people.
The Yongbung, internet sages that they were, could already picture it. Kirin and Manwang fans would clip it out of context and brand him an arrogant rookie with no respect. Chinese fans, who valued face and pride above all, would denounce Park Su-bin as a disrespectful brat who insulted their sacred relic.
Just as the Yongbung braced themselves for the impending world-war-level chaos, Park Su-bin’s one-man drama continued despite the crisis.
“Got it! No…… Wait, maybe not!…… No, I think I got it!…… No, failed again……”
Alternating between excitement and disappointment, brightening then suddenly drooping, the Yongbung could only laugh now.
And then it happened.
Su-bin-ssi.
The once-noisy chat fell silent. Not because of the donation of a hundred million won alone, but because of the username LuxuryMom—the great matriarch of the Yongbung and president of Korea’s largest fan club.
Yeon-woo-ssi, could you please stop him?
“Hey, you oversized sunfish. You got a donation. She says stop headbutting the table.”
“Huh……?”
Su-bin-ssi, would you listen to me for a moment?
Challenging and overcoming the impossible deserves praise, but sometimes time itself provides the solution. It’s not the only thing, though. Su-bin-ssi already possesses so much shining talent—doesn’t it feel wasteful to tie yourself down with defeat and blame yourself? I find it truly heartbreaking.
Thinking about it, the word “defeat” itself is funny. You think you’ve been defeated, but in the end, it was the Mir Guild—your team—that won.
Blaming and denying yourself like this might not even be respectful to the team. That’s probably why Yeon-woo-ssi is worried about you too. Right, Yeon-woo-ssi?
“Uh, uh, yes!”
She offered no clumsy comfort. Instead, she posed a fundamental question. In the end, a match wasn’t an individual duel fought alone. It was a team match fought together. Tormenting yourself like this was disrespectful both to the team and to yourself. Therefore—
Stop tormenting your head and try talking to your teammates if you want answers. You’re not alone, Su-bin-ssi.
You are not alone.
Ah, those words that struck his heart made Park Su-bin tremble. “That’s right. I wasn’t alone!!” He had never been someone who solved problems alone. He was the person who had received help from Lee Shin and been shaped by the Mountain King’s guidance. How could he have overlooked something so obvious? Su-bin, Su-bin, you were arrogant again.
Park Su-bin shot to his feet. “Thank you. I’ll go ask them right now!”
A moment later, as Park Su-bin disappeared with a brightened face, Baek Yeon-woo finally voiced the words he had been holding back. “No matter how I look at it, that guy’s the biggest weirdo here.”
“Whew, you all worked hard as well.”
Baek Yeon-woo chuckled. The chat was flooded with “lol”s. Sighs of relief and laughter burst out at once. Park Su-bin was innocent to the point of being otherworldly, yet he showed his eccentric side in the most unexpected ways—just like one of Lee Shin’s kids. Perhaps because they had borne his black history with their own bodies, Baek Yeon-woo and the fans felt strangely closer today.
By the way, Yeon-woo-ssi, that thing in your cup isn’t alcohol, is it?
“I wish it were alcohol.”
Having a friend who acts like that while stone-cold sober…… Baek Yeon-woo downed the water in his cup in one defiant gulp.
* * *
Meanwhile, having found his path, Park Su-bin went looking for his teammates. On the first floor, a large performance hall was in full swing with its evening show. A fairly famous idol group was performing tonight, but that didn’t matter to Park Su-bin. He passed the hall and arrived at the bar on the deck, where he found the people he was looking for. Two women were enjoying cocktails at a spot with a clear view of the night sea.
“Oh? Su-bin-ah. What brings you here?”
“Bini-Bini-Su-bin-nii~!”
It was Lee Hye-jung, the second team’s Mamang, and Kang Malsuk, the core of the tanker line. The two had become good friends thanks to their honest personalities. Of course, the non-alcoholic Lee Hye-jung had to drink non-alcoholic cocktails to get along with the super-alcoholic Kang Malsuk, but the two understood and respected each other. Both women set down their glasses and looked at Park Su-bin.
“Noonas.”
“What?”
“Hm?”
“I have something to ask.”
“??”
“??”
Park Su-bin poured out his troubles to the two question-marked noonas. How he had been toyed with by Manwang. How powerless he had felt before the Baekhwageom. How he had agonized over overcoming it, yet saw no answer. Was there truly no path for him?
A brief silence fell over the two women who had heard his concerns.
“……So, in short, he wants to stand on equal footing with Manwang-nim?”
“Sounds like he wants to break through Manwang-nim holding the Baekhwageom.”
Another two seconds of silence. Lee Hye-jung broke it first.
“Su-bin-ah, there’s one thing Noona can say for certain.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t ask the second team kids.”
Park Su-bin’s chaotic consultation session was far from over.
