Chapter 0 — Prologue
Chapter 0 — Prologue
The sun set over the desolate shantytown. Yong-cheol recalled someone's retreating figure.
It was the man from next door—the one who'd thrown punches and used his own body to block the demolition crews that stormed their house, all to protect Yong-cheol's grandmother and the young boy himself when they'd been helpless.
That neighbor, who'd boxed in his prime, moved with a sharp grace. Every time he did, the terrifying-looking crew members went down one by one.
After the crews fled, the man rubbed a bruise near his eye and stepped out the gate. The image of him walking away into the sunset, smiling, was more heroic than anyone Yong-cheol had ever seen in cartoons or on TV.
"...Boss."
"Huh?"
Yong-cheol turned his head belatedly. Despite the black T-shirt, it struggled to conceal his hulking muscles. A young man with a similarly menacing air was calling him.
"Boss, looks like we're about done here?"
"Oh yeah? What about the house with the blue gate?"
"We've just hauled out the household goods for now."
"That's enough for today, then. Let's go."
At Yong-cheol's words, the area around them grew busy.
"He says we're pulling out!"
"It won't end this easily next time, got it?"
The shantytown resembled a battlefield. Amid the wrecked alleyways and scattered belongings, people wept. Some screamed and cursed.
The men in black shirts threatened them before following their leader, Yong-cheol, off the job for the day.
Kim Yong-cheol, 33 years old. His job: security company employee.
Some people used the derogatory term "gangster muscle."
"Head on in, Boss~"
"Yeah, yeah."
Ever since he'd laid eyes on that cool neighbor as a child, Yong-cheol's dream had been to become a bodyguard. Reality, however, had not been so accommodating.
He'd given up on attending a phys ed college due to his family's financial situation. He lacked the brains or talent to win a scholarship at a university.
The manual labor gig he'd started to earn quick money, playing to the one strength—a physique slightly better than most—had caught someone's eye. Over ten years had passed since he'd settled into it for good.
After the rotten luck of tangling with the wrong person and landing in a detention center, he couldn't do any other kind of work after that.
He'd already drifted too far from the person he'd once admired.
Yong-cheol stopped at a tripe joint, downed a glass of soju by himself, and then ambled home. A short way through the alley, across the main road, and home was right there.
Once I get back, I should install that new adults-only game I bought... The thought lifted his mood, maybe thanks to the alcohol.
"Ah, fuck... dragging something like this down a narrow street...."
A foreign car was passing through the cramped alley, blasting loud music. Yong-cheol scrambled to dodge it and ended up stepping on a bag of food waste propped against a utility pole. His face scrunched up in disgust.
The young man and two women in the convertible zoomed past Yong-cheol, their expressions full of mirth. The smell of alcohol wafted up from the open-top car.
"What a shitshow, what a goddamn shitshow...."
If I'd had that kind of money or power, I wouldn't have lived like that.
I've got nothing now, but if I were ever in a position to help others, I wouldn't squander it all on wild living like them.
With eyes full of envy, irritation, and resentment, Yong-cheol stared at the foreign car's rear. He stepped onto the main road and stood before the crosswalk. The signal was about to change, so he'd planned to cross on the next cycle.
A couple of pedestrians nearby, seeing Yong-cheol standing unsteadily and reeking of booze, inched away.
The flashy foreign car from earlier was weaving in the opposite lane. Fortunately, there weren't many other cars at that hour.
Then it happened. The foreign car suddenly crossed the center line and began a U-turn. It wasn't a normal trajectory—it was an insane movement, as if cutting across three or four lanes. Its path was heading straight for the crosswalk Yong-cheol intended to use.
"Kyaaaah!!"
"What the—!"
People screamed in unison. The foreign car barreled toward the crosswalk. And right in front of it, there was a little kid who hadn't managed to cross yet.
A few meters apart, Yong-cheol's eyes met the child's.
Before he could even think, Yong-cheol threw himself forward.
*
— ...Child.
A gentle voice reached him.
— Child. I will give you a chance, so that you may keep the words you spoke.
A warm, tender breeze rustled softly, and it felt pleasant.
— Do not let it go to waste....
The voice was sweet and achingly nostalgic. But it grew fainter and fainter. Wanting to hear it longer, Yong-cheol struggled to lift his eyelids.
"Urgh...."
"Your... Your Majesty!"
Someone who had been near him flinched away and scrambled back. Yong-cheol was rubbing his eyes when he flinched in alarm.
'What the hell?!'
"What do you think you're doing!"
At the sound of his own voice, Yong-cheol flinched again.
First, what he'd thought and what he'd said were different. And his voice was far too different.
A dignified, powerful voice. Even to himself, as a man, it was an appealing voice.
No one answered. Yong-cheol finally took in his surroundings. It was a lavishly appointed bedroom in dark tones. Even to an untrained eye, the furniture, the fixtures, the door panels—everything was high-end. The bed was enormously wide, and the bedding was...
Yong-cheol jerked back in shock, scooting away.
Three naked women were in the bed with him, and he himself was just as bare. Each had a different hair color, but all three were bright and unusual—like blonde or green. Two of the women, one with light blonde hair and the other with dark blonde hair, were already unconscious, collapsed on either side of him.
The woman who'd scrambled away from him, now pressed flat on her stomach and keeping her head down, had light green hair. Though she'd curled up her body, her large breasts were impossible to hide; the full flesh spilled out between the arms she'd gathered in front of her. Yong-cheol swallowed dryly at her voluptuous figure.
Only then did Yong-cheol recall his final memories.
A drunk driver had nearly hit a child, and he'd jumped in to...
And someone had said they'd 'give him a chance.'
'Could this seriously be an isekai?!'
Yong-cheol's eyes went round. The kind of isekai he'd seen so often in games and novels!
In his younger days, some scholarly kid had showed up for a temp job, saying he wanted to do manual labor, so Yong-cheol had looked after him a bit. The guy was feckless and terrible at the work, but he must have taken a liking to Yong-cheol for looking out for him. Every break, the kid would ramble on about his favorite games and manga.
While in the detention center, Yong-cheol had read a few light novels the kid had sent him. When he got out and told him he'd enjoyed them, this bastard had introduced him to a whole pile of adults-only games this time.
That had already been five years ago. Thanks to reading light novels and playing eroge in his spare time, Yong-cheol himself had grown into a perfectly respectable otaku.
'Could this be... completely awesome...?'
First of all, he seemed to hold a high-status position. 'Your Majesty,' they'd said. Yong-cheol decided to test it out by issuing an order.
"A mirror...."
"...Pardon?"
"Bring me a mirror."
"Y-yes!"
The green-haired woman who'd been prostrate hurriedly fetched a mirror from the table. Even when Yong-cheol spoke casually, his words somehow shifted into the style of a historical drama, which secretly relieved him.
When he looked into the mirror, his eyes widened.
'It's the Demon King!'