Heavenly Demon's Arrival: Narak (2)
Narak, the virtual roguelike steeped in murim aesthetics, was a game utterly brimming with unfairness.
Like every roguelike, it was impossible to even glimpse the first-run ending until you had adapted to its systems.
Sang-hyun, currently monitoring the stream, had tried playing Narak himself.
His physical reflexes were so abysmal, however, that it had taken him over a hundred hours just to reach the first ending.
Even so, he had never once found it unenjoyable.
Die, then challenge it again.
Die, then challenge it again.
Gathering intel on enemies and terrain, hoarding items, then throwing yourself at the ending—that was the true essence of a roguelike, was it not?
‘But you don’t have that kind of time, Myeong-yun.’
From outside the game, Sang-hyun watched the live viewer count steadily climbing and made a cold assessment.
What Myeong-yun had shown the world in that video and his debut stream was an overwhelming display of physical perfection.
The record-shattering performance in the Martial God Tournament that no one else had ever achieved.
Because it might very well stand forever unbroken, people’s expectations of him had only grown fiercer.
Some had already become devoted fans after witnessing it, while just as many were eagerly waiting for the moment his mask would finally slip.
Could the same overwhelming presence he had shown against that AI doll be replicated inside the game?
Myeong-yun would have to prove it.
‘He has to be different from the rest.’
If he died repeatedly like everyone else and kept retrying, the majesty of the Heavenly Demon would never shine through.
Yet Sang-hyun’s worries melted away like snow in an instant.
He had simply remembered exactly who was currently inside that avatar.
Hmm, I heard this was supposed to be difficult, yet it does not appear so.
With both hands clasped behind his back, Myeong-yun strolled through the trap-filled corridor with effortless grace.
Sang-hyun himself had needed more than ten attempts just to clear that same tutorial trap section, memorizing every location and timing along the way.
He instinctively knew this broadcast would be another resounding success.
After watching Narak’s opening cinematic together with the viewers, Myeong-yun’s impression was succinct.
“What a gathering of fools. If one grows strong by relying on fortuitous encounters, what true value could that possibly hold? The path of martial arts must be built up steadily, step by step.”
Myeong-yun read the chat and let out a soft chuckle. The messages had stirred up old memories.
In his previous life, countless murim practitioners who had obtained lucky encounters had challenged him, the undisputed strongest under heaven, claiming they had become the greatest.
Each time they proudly demanded a life-or-death duel, he had graciously accepted and sent every last one of them to the afterlife.
“Very well, then. Let us go see exactly how many fools await us below.”
To begin the game, one had to leap into a pitch-black hole with no visible bottom—one of Narak’s greatest early psychological barriers.
Most players hesitated, yet Myeong-yun, hands still clasped behind his back, jumped in without the slightest pause.
His body floated briefly in the air before his feet touched solid ground.
Before him stretched a dim cave illuminated by only a handful of hanging torches.
The tutorial zone.
A first wall for newcomers, packed with numerous traps—floors that suddenly gave way, spears raining from the ceiling, arrows flying from the darkness. Even if you knew they were coming, avoiding them was no easy feat.
Trap locations were fixed, but any inexperienced player would inevitably die at least once here.
The viewers waited with bated breath to see how Myeong-yun would handle this infamous wall of despair. Would his godlike reflexes shine through, or would he meet a pathetic end?
Yet the moment he took his first step, the entire chat fell silent.
He moved like flowing water.
One step to dodge an arrow, two steps to leap over a pitfall.
With light, unhurried strides, he cleared the entire trap section in just five steps.
Trap Section — No-Death Clear
Reward: 100,000 Won
In the brief window it took for the mission to be funded, typed out, and displayed, Myeong-yun had already passed the section flawlessly.
He glanced backward and murmured, “Hmm, I heard it was supposed to be difficult, yet it does not appear so.”
The entire process had taken him mere seconds.
Noticing the mission belatedly, Myeong-yun said, “Is this what they call a challenge? I have already passed it, so what should be done?”
Should he cancel it? Or simply accept the reward?
While he pondered, the mission creator processed it as completed.
100,000 Won Awarded
Objective: Trap Section — No-Death Clear
The viewers rewound the footage of Myeong-yun clearing the traps and spammed chat in disbelief.
“It was not particularly difficult. Were you all simply exaggerating the challenge? In any case, this Seat thanks you for the donation to the cult’s coffers.”
His tone suggested it had been nothing at all.
Myeong-yun smiled faintly and advanced to the next area.
The first test had been understanding the traps. The second was combat.
“Well then, shall we continue?”
The random encounters in Narak fell into three categories: monster-type, human-type, and human-type that might as well be monsters.
Humans eroded by the poisonous qi flowing through Narak, reduced to monstrous abominations.
Of the three, the third type was the most difficult early on.
These foes wielded martial arts with power far beyond ordinary humans.
Defeat Enemies Without Dying
Reward: 100,000 Won
This time the mission appeared before he even engaged.
Myeong-yun accepted it and stepped forward.
An enemy immediately burst from the darkness—a murim warrior whose joints were twisted at grotesque angles, wielding a chain-linked scythe in one hand.
The tutorial’s first foe.
Viewers grew excited at the appearance of one of the hardest early encounters.
Under their watchful eyes, Myeong-yun walked forward unhurriedly.
He ignored the “Rusty Sword” stuck in the ground—the first item one could obtain in Narak—and approached the enemy empty-handed.
“Would it not be pitiful to draw a blade merely to deal with a single insignificant whelp?”
The viewers’ reactions were all over the place.
Since no one had ever succeeded at this insane challenge before, none of them believed he would manage it.
Yet Myeong-yun stood before the corrupted murim warrior with a perfectly confident expression.
The warrior, twisted by Narak’s poisonous qi, swung its scythe at him without hesitation.
Myeong-yun tilted his head back by the slightest margin, dodging the lethal blade by a hair’s breadth.
What followed was a kick—or rather, such a minimal motion that calling it a kick felt excessive.
With his right foot he simply tapped the creature’s ankle, instantly destroying its balance.
The instant it stumbled in confusion, his palm slammed down mercilessly, crushing its skull.
It had taken him all of five seconds.
The encounter had been so swift that the audience barely had time to react. Myeong-yun dispatched the additional enemies that appeared in the next chamber with the same minimalistic efficiency.
Minimal movement, maximum effect.
His actions seemed to embody those very words.
After eliminating five foes in the blink of an eye and clearing the entire tutorial zone, chat exploded toward Myeong-yun like a cascading waterfall.
Myeong-yun had cleared the tutorial section—something that left most players struggling for dozens of minutes—in only five minutes.
All while keeping both hands clasped behind his back.
The chat grew increasingly noisy as viewers realized just how extraordinary the record was.
Whether or not this was Myeong-yun’s first time in Narak remained unclear, but clearing the tutorial in five minutes was undeniably a world-record feat regardless.
100,000 Won Awarded
Objective: Defeat Enemies Without Dying
Donations began pouring in one after another.
There were so many one-thousand-won donations that the alert notifications started to lag.
‘I should ask them to raise the minimum donation amount later. This is endless.’
Since his goal had never been money, the flood of tiny donations was beginning to interfere with the stream.
Myeong-yun expressed his gratitude for the outpouring support and refocused on the game.
“Hmm, now I simply need to choose one of these three?”
Three items floated before him after clearing the tutorial: a spear, a sword, and a martial arts manual.
‘They did say Narak is a roguelike where your build choice is crucial.’
From the brief research he had done beforehand, the NPCs’ attitudes—hostile or friendly—changed depending on which weapons and manuals you acquired, and there were even set bonuses.
Different manuals and equipment also sorted players into factions: the righteous path, the demonic path, or the Heavenly Demon Cult.
The mention of the Heavenly Demon Cult had initially sparked Myeong-yun’s interest.
But upon learning that it existed only in the lore and was located so far from Narak’s starting area that the cult itself would never appear unless you specifically collected their arts, his excitement had quickly cooled.
In any case.
There was the Sword King build that combined sword manuals with bladed weapons, the Weapon Collector build that gathered only weapons without manuals, the high-risk high-reward Heavenly Demon build that collected only demonic arts, and many more.
One of Narak’s greatest appeals was the sheer variety of builds players could create through their choices.
Viewers who recognized the items immediately began giving all sorts of advice.
Since it wasn’t outright spoilers, the flood of “this build is better” and “that build is better” opinions grew louder and louder.
Myeong-yun, who had been quietly observing the chat, glanced at the private message that had just arrived from Sang-hyun.
—Do whatever you feel like. Whatever you choose, the viewers are going to explode anyway. We’re already at twelve thousand live.
‘Four thousand more than when we started. …I see.’
If he wanted to make things even more entertaining from here on.
No—to do it differently from everyone else.
Or rather, to do it both more entertainingly and differently from everyone else. Would that be enough?
All of it was meaningless conjecture.
He had already declared it himself.
Relying on fortuitous encounters was the act of a fool. Only by proving oneself with one’s own power could one call themselves a true practitioner of murim.
And above all else, in the end one must enjoy the journey.
Unbound by anything, in order to return to the murim world.
In order to show them all what a true Heavenly Demon truly was.
After a brief moment of thought, Myeong-yun made his choice.
“This Seat is……”