Chapter 18
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Alumni Are Scary (2)
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I hated people who dismissed effort by labeling it mere talent. It felt like they were ignoring my hard work—the blood and sweat that had coursed through that mountain valley instead of water. Like they refused to believe my past, where I'd collapsed in exhaustion after brutal training and vomited up my insides.
Talent couldn't be caught up to by effort? What nonsense. All the effort I'd poured in had crushed countless talents and propelled me to the top. My sword had forced all those knights and mages who'd challenged me to their knees—that was proof enough.
So I'd always said it: No talent can surpass true effort. Every action fueled by iron-willed resolve carries power. I'd repeated it endlessly.
Because I'd always seen myself as the living embodiment of that story. At just thirty-five, I'd earned the title of Sword Saint. Among humans, at least, no one could protect me.
So what if someone possessed talent far superior to mine? What if they outdid even my relentless effort? How should I view that? Could my beliefs even withstand it? Only now was doubt creeping into my convictions.
The kid standing before me looked exactly like that.
- Hah, hah... ugh...!
His ragged breathing teetered on the edge of breaking. His trembling arms looked ready to give out any second. His face, flushed beet red from exertion, bore the deep marks of agony.
Yet his eyes burned with fierce intensity. That venomous glare, just like mine in my younger days, made me question if this was the same playful brat from before.
"That's enough."
My single command made him halt instantly, like a perfectly drilled soldier.
"Ughhh... You're ending it early today~"
But once training stopped, he reverted to the same carefree fool I'd met at first. An ignorant kid clueless about the world. Fearless in his naivety. Eyes sparkling with mischief. Lips quirked in a slight smirk.
"Yeah. You're practically screaming that you want to leave early."
"Ehh~ You caught me~ Am I that easy to read? Hmm..."
If he'd kept that sharp edge from training, maybe. But right now, he was just a kid who wore his emotions on his sleeve.
"Fine, go on then. It's gotta be because of Seren anyway."
"Eh, how much have you figured out~? Man, old timer, you're too sharp for no reason."
"What else would you care about here besides Seren? You don't even have friends."
"Of course not. All my friends are in another world! If anything, I'm basically a slave dragged to this far-off land, right?"
The hero shot me a pitiful look, as if he were truly wronged.
"Whatever. Just go already. Scram. Shoo."
I didn't drag him here myself—what was I supposed to do?
The hero scowled at my dismissive wave and turned to leave the training grounds.
- Ptooey.
That little punk?
"Hey, you brat. Don't cause trouble at the temple~ That's outside imperial law, so behave."
- I never do anything weird as long as no one messes with my circle~ Byeeee.
Damn hero. Knows how to attack adults but not how to show respect.
Well, at least he's got common sense. He'll manage on his own.
Why did I ever think that?
This was the guy who'd charged at injustice and ended up rolling in the market dirt. If he'd just come back equally roughed up, that would've been fine. But in those few months, he'd grown so much—especially his swordsmanship, now nearly on my level. No way he'd let himself get dragged through the mud.
The hero was a guardian who went berserk to protect his inner circle. A devoted protector who poured everything into those he cared for.
No. Truth be told, he was just a lunatic.
That day, the temple echoed with the sound of shattering walls and someone's screams.
- Really...? You're Siu? Ansiu?
How many calls was this? Maybe he hadn't believed my initial nonsense. Even after calling back and insisting I was Ansiu, he just hurled worse insults. No matter what, he wouldn't buy it.
I learned some new curses today. They were so creative I just sat there stunned at first.
"It's really me, Ansiu. Please believe me now."
- No way. I can't. That psycho wouldn't use polite speech.
Hey, who talks down to a stranger anyway?
"If my politeness is making you suspicious, how about we meet face-to-face?"
I had zero intention of meeting up, but now my pride was on the line. I was planning to stay home anyway, so swinging by a café was no big deal.
- Hmm... Fine. After work, 7 PM. I'll send you the café address.
"Got it."
- God, you sound like such a scammer. Hey, can I call the cops?
"Do whatever. You'll see soon enough."
His nonstop rambling made me even more sure this was my friend. Birds of a feather, right?
With the plans set, I flopped onto the sofa feeling oddly detached. Focusing on something for once had drained me.
Plenty of time until 7, so I could take it slow getting ready. But all this spare time just bred overthinking.
Why was I begging this hard just to meet? Was it boredom? Did I miss my sister's worried eyes? Or longing for the people of Pretoria I could never see again?
Maybe it was my subconscious reaching for a forgotten past. Not remembering what everyone else did left a bitter taste.
I felt awkward when Sihyun said things I couldn't relate to. I'd fake understanding and brush it off, but I wanted to remember too. That past that might never resurface.
Searching for this classmate felt like part of that process. Bumping into people and places might jog something eventually.
I showered off the grime, shook out the dampness, and changed into fresh clothes. Time was creeping up, so I headed to the café.
They'd picked a spot close to home, so I arrived quickly. Five minutes early, I ordered a coffee first.
"Hello~ One iced Americano, please."
I played the part: friendly, bright, like your average aimless young guy.
The coffee came fast. I sipped it at my seat when someone approached.
"Ansiu...? Is that really you? You're alive?"
I looked up blankly from my coffee. Just a sturdy-built guy. But his shaking eyes and stiff movements screamed his shock. That's when it hit me—this was my friend.
"Uh... hi? Long time no see?"
Informal speech still didn't sit right, so polite it was.
"Not a disguise? What the hell. Can I touch your face?"
"Sure. If you need to confirm."
He reached out with trembling hands, prodding my face, pinching my skin for a while.
"It's real...? It's really you, Siu. For real..."
He bowed his head. Shoulders shaking—he was crying. What do you do when a grown man breaks down like that? Tell the truth first, I guess. No memories. Can't answer about the past.
"I told you, it's me. But uh... honestly, I don't remember you. Haha."
"Huh? What kinda bullshit is that?"
"Well, there was an accident. Lost most memories up to age twenty. I only contacted you because my sister told me about you~"
"Oh... right. You had a little sister. Kept using polite speech 'cause you don't remember. Makes sense."
"Bingo! Still awkward, though. Figured meeting might jog something."
Forgetting the past sucks.
As I kept smiling and talking, he gradually got serious too—asking questions, answering mine. What happened? Family okay? You okay? Glad you're back, even now.
Watching a tough guy cry was awkward.
His concern embarrassed me. Probably one of my closest friends back then. Made me wonder—could friends care this much?
"So I used to be way handsomer, see? I was way more popular than you. You punk~"
"With that face?"
"Wait... that didn't sound polite."
"Nah, it's just... your obvious lie. Trying to fool an amnesiac with fabrications? Needs more plausibility these days. Haha~"
"Yeah, you're definitely Ansiu. Annoyingly sharp as ever."
Thanks for the compliment.