The Heavenly Demon Takes the Stage (1)
After the broadcast ended, DeKay Jong-woon opened the edited video his editor had sent. Watching himself get miserably crushed inside the Market, he let out a bitter laugh.
Man. I really pulled out every desperate move I had, only to lose like that. It's genuinely pathetic. At this rate, the viewers were going to eat it up. Although Jong-woon aimed for skill-focused content, the videos that actually blew up on MyTube were always the ones where he was suffering. All the trolling he'd done across various streams must have cemented his villain image. Thanks to that, he received plenty of hate comments, but Jong-woon never let it bother him. As long as people enjoyed watching, nothing else mattered.
The recent Ten Lines challenge had been so brutal it nearly made him vomit, but seeing how entertaining the final edit turned out made all the pain feel worthwhile. After sending the editor a few revision notes, he checked the rest of his messages. A couple were from viewers, but most were strictly business—sponsorship offers, collaboration requests, that sort of thing.
While sorting through them, he spotted a text from his former teammate, Su-il hyung.
Su-il hyung? Isn't he busy these days? I thought he just joined a pro team as a coach. It's the middle of the season—he should be swamped.
He had replied out of courtesy, never expecting an immediate answer. The man had always been the type to simply read messages and reply whenever he felt like it. A response within a day was considered fast; sometimes it took a full week. This time would probably be the same. Checking tomorrow evening would be better for his mental health.
Jong-woon blinked. Su-il hyung replied in ten seconds? Am I dreaming? Did I pass out from exhaustion after the stream?
Hwaryeong? He must mean the one I know, right?
Jong-woon wasn't surprised. Hwaryeong doing something that defied common sense wasn't exactly newsworthy. A monster who soloed Outer Gods crushing a second-string prospect was nothing special.
Even Jong-woon himself was confident he could hold his own against second-team pros if he prepared seriously. For Hwaryeong to completely overwhelm them was only natural.
Jong-woon opened the video Su-il had sent. The protagonists were Hwaryeong and a user named Karispo.
Huh. Isn't this the guy who plays Berserker? I remember him. Back when I hosted that tournament, he won and declared he would become a pro no matter what. Guess he actually made it. But why is he using Sword Saint? He's a specialist—pretty sure he can't play anything else properly.
Full of questions, Jong-woon watched as Hwaryeong boldly declared she would fight with one hand. Even though it wasn't her main character, Karispo was still a second-team pro. Announcing she wouldn't even need to move her feet and would use only one hand was the kind of statement that would get anyone else called out for throwing. But this was Hwaryeong. She proved her words weren't arrogance—they were fact.
She didn't allow a single one of Karispo's frantic attacks to land. With a bored expression like she might yawn at any moment, she dismantled the Sword Saint's entire performance. Karispo fought desperately, but giving it your all didn't guarantee results. Watching the man's gritted teeth, Jong-woon felt a deep sense of kinship. He had been in that exact position during the Ten Lines challenge.
Back then, Hwaryeong had picked up the Whip Master—a class she never used—and torn his pride to shreds. Even with his pride shattered, Karispo still gave everything he had. Using an unfamiliar Sword Saint character, he showed the absolute limit of what was possible. Any ordinary Master-rank user would have been toyed with. That was how strong Karispo was. His opponent was simply on another level.
Then, with ten seconds left on the clock, Hwaryeong deliberately created distance.
What? Is she trying to run out the clock? She was going to win anyway—why pull back?
His confusion was resolved instantly. Karispo's body floated into the air as if caught by telekinesis. The panicked player flailed desperately, but his struggles were weak, as though bound by invisible chains. Once he reached a certain height, flames erupted across his body.
Watching the scene, Jong-woon involuntarily thought of medieval witch burnings.
Is Karispo going to be okay? No matter how used to death Apis users are, that seemed a bit much. I'd probably get trauma from it.
"Why are you asking me?"
Among known players, Enri was closest to Hwaryeong, followed by him. It wasn't wrong. Why does this feel so orchestrated? Jong-woon felt a subtle discomfort but still calmly began explaining for his senior.
Su-il grumbled that he didn't have time, but Jong-woon was firm. A user like Hwaryeong, who existed far outside normal human categories, couldn't be explained with words. In the end, Su-il gave in and went to watch the videos.
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. Still no reply. After an hour and a half, just as Jong-woon began wondering if the man had gone to sleep, his smartphone rang. It was Su-il.
"Hey. These videos aren't edited or manipulated, right?"
"What videos?"
"The ones about Hwaryeong. All of them."
A man who hadn't called once in years was suddenly calling just to ask this?
"Do you think I'm crazy enough to fake them? Those are all from the live broadcast."
"This is something a human being can actually do?"
This hyung really has never watched Hwaryeong's videos before, has he? We're living in the modern age—stop living only in the real world and touch some grass on the internet once in a while.
"Insane, right?"
"What is this person's identity? Is she a pro on some team?"
"She's a civilian. Started playing Apis a month ago."
"Are you joking?"
Jong-woon wished he were. Then all the humiliating defeats he'd suffered would become jokes too. But it was the truth. According to Enri, who had recommended the game to her, Hwaryeong was someone experiencing VR for the very first time.
"Then you're telling me to believe this is pure talent?"
"What changes if you don't believe it?"
"..."
"Hyung. Hwaryeong is a real user who exists."
That monster wasn't some illusion that would disappear just because you didn't want to believe in her.
"Does she have any interest in going pro?"
"I don't know. We're not that close. All I've ever done is get beaten up by her."
"I see. I'll try reaching out to her through Apis then."
Well... even if you contact her, she probably won't see it. As far as Jong-woon knew, multiple pro teams had already tried reaching out to Hwaryeong. None had received a proper reply. Among pro staff, rumors were spreading that she simply wasn't interested in the professional scene.
But Jong-woon, who had heard the story from Enri, knew the truth. Hwaryeong was simply too lazy to check the mountain of accumulated notifications. Even if Su-il sent a message, it would just become another unread alert in the pile. At times like these, Jong-woon felt that receiving Hwaryeong's real phone number through his connection with Enri was a stroke of heavenly luck. At least he didn't have to anxiously wait for a reply that would never come.
"I'll hang up now."
"Take care."
"Yeah."
After ending the call with Su-il, Jong-woon checked whether Hwaryeong had seen the message he'd sent earlier. A reply was waiting.
"Yes!"
The protagonist he had envisioned for the competition since the day he first met Hwaryeong had just promised to join. Having secured a guaranteed box-office draw, Jong-woon felt the drowsiness that had been creeping up on him completely vanish.
"You're telling me even if I have the money, I can't get a capsule right away?"
After finishing the broadcast, I felt reluctant to part ways immediately, so I was having a meal with Enri. When I brought up the topic of VR capsules, she gave a negative answer.
"Unlike regular VR devices, capsules aren't mass-produced."
She explained that even if I placed an order immediately, receiving the capsule would still take several months. A wave of frustration washed over me. That meant I would have to suffer from dizziness every time I played the game for the next few months.
Sigh. I tried to soothe my disappointment with the chicken Enri had ordered, but disappointment was disappointment. If I had known, I would have ordered a capsule along with the VR set from the beginning.
By the time we had finished all the chicken, it was already late at night. It was time to part ways. Since we would see each other again at the language institute once the weekend ended, there was no real sense of regret.
On my way back home, the security guard at the apartment entrance called out to me.
"Miss, you live in unit 502, correct?"
"Yes, that's right."
"This package arrived for you. Please take it."
A package? I hadn't bought anything recently. The box was of unknown origin, but the shipping label confirmed it was addressed to me. The sender was listed as (Corp) S... Aish. Don't write it in English. How am I supposed to read that?
Back home, I opened the box. Inside was a single letter, a tobacco pipe, and what appeared to be pipe tobacco leaves. The shape of the pipe looked familiar. When had I seen it before? It wasn't from my time in Murim, nor was it the same as the one Enri usually offered me.
As I searched my memories, I suddenly recalled the young girl from the Ice Palace I had treated not long ago. That's right. The pipe I had taken from that child had this exact design.
The moment I opened the letter, I became certain my memory was correct. This was a gift from the company that created the game Revenge.
To the one who witnessed the hidden ending for the first time—
We send this gift as a token of gratitude. It has been a long time since anyone reached that ending, so it has been kept in storage longer than intended. We are truly thankful that you have finally cleared it.
You may use it, display it, take photos, or create videos with it. Please use it in any way you desire. This is a reward for our savior.
— The Development Team of Revenge
In other words, this was compensation for saving the child from the Ice Palace. Huhu. How interesting.
I packed the tobacco leaves into the pipe and headed to the veranda. As I lit it with Samadhi True Fire, I leisurely watched the smoke rise.
A small flame bloomed at the tip of the pipe, gentle yet carrying the power to burn both spirit and flesh.
I didn't know what kind of people developed the game Revenge, but their taste in tobacco was excellent. I liked it. The pipe itself was also quite impressive. For something made as a commemorative item, it was remarkably well-crafted. Perfect. I had just been thinking about how I needed a pipe today, and here one arrived as a gift.
While enjoying the night view of the city and smoking, my smartphone rang. It was a text from DeKay. In polite language, he explained that he would soon be hosting a tournament and would be honored if I would participate as a contestant. As I read through his message, one particular line caught my eye.
The first-place prize was a VR capsule?
Well now. They were offering exactly what I needed most. There was no way I could refuse to participate.
Very well. I would play along.