The Heavenly Demon Arrives: Narak (3)

“Crazy bastard! Ahahahaha!!”

Sang-hyun, watching from outside, burst into laughter at Myeong-yun’s ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠choice.

He had known Myeong-yun was insane from the start, but he never expected him to take it even further.

The decision was simply too ridiculous to endure without laughing.

The path no one else would walk.

Perhaps this was what the true Demonic Path—belonging to neither the righteous nor the heretical factions—looked like.

“It’ll be a shame if he fails, but if he succeeds, this is going to be an absolute jackpot.”

Sang-hyun checked the viewers’ reactions and the rapidly climbing live viewer count.

Someone must have posted about it in the Narak community; people were flooding in at a terrifying speed.

Foreign languages were also starting to appear in the chat, meaning international viewers had begun to join.

YouTube was a global platform, after all.

With luck, the stream could easily slip into foreign algorithms.

Whether at home or abroad, the internet was currently experiencing a full-blown VTuber boom.

It’s also thanks to that genius who perfected the simultaneous interpretation system that the VTuber market grew this huge.

Sang-hyun smiled brightly and refocused on the broadcast screen.

Since he had declared himself Myeong-yun’s supporter, he had to do his job perfectly.

“Do whatever you want! Your hyung will handle everything behind the scenes!”

After long deliberation, Myeong-yun’s choice was to select nothing at all.

He passed on both weapons and martial arts manuals. In essence, he had abandoned “deck-building,” the very flower of roguelike games.

Yet by discarding his advantages, he gained something far greater—topicality that surpassed everything else.

If a first-time player cleared the game through skilled deck-building, people would simply call it luck.

But clearing it without deck-building?

That was when one truly became a monster through pure skill.

Myeong-yun walked past the three options and spoke in a calm, majestic tone.

Some might call it nonsense, but Myeong-yun meant every word.

Even in games, what fun was there in using cheats or hacks?

Power gained too easily only brought emptiness.

“Little ones, do not worry.”

What had come before could not even be called a warm-up.

Ever since entering the virtual world until this very moment, he had never once revealed his true ability.

“This Lord shall pick up the pace slightly.”

Myeong-yun lightly kicked off the ground.

Narak’s structure was simple: pass through five trap or encounter zones, then defeat the boss in the sixth room. Repeating this cycle five times completed one full run.

The deeper one descended, the stronger the enemies became—highlighting both the viciousness and the thrill of the roguelike genre.

If I slay enemies and absorb their inner energy, my stats will rise.

Even while skipping weapons and manuals, he would consume any elixirs that increased his abilities.

Since these rewards came from abandoning equipment and techniques, they were choices one would only ignore once a proper build was complete.

If no elixir appeared, he would simply pass.

This was one of the most perverse playstyles no one had ever succeeded at—the “naked” build.

That was roughly what Sang-hyun had told him.

But wasn’t that how all games worked?

Kill everything and you win.

To Myeong-yun, it was the most familiar and the easiest method.

Myeong-yun cleared three more rooms in the blink of an eye.

He flowed through traps like water and crushed enemies with tyrannical efficiency.

The sight of him stomping heads into pulp without even using his hands was the very definition of the Demonic Path.

The viewers could barely keep up with the insane speed.

Even though they were watching from a third-person perspective, following his movements was nearly impossible.

It was on an entirely different level from other streamers’ gameplay.

The viewers who had been hoping for Myeong-yun’s downfall were slowly growing nervous.

Myeong-yun was conquering rooms at a terrifying pace.

The average time per room was under three minutes.

When normal players took over ten minutes on average, this was more than three times faster by simple math.

And he was doing it without any equipment or manuals!

“This must be the final room of the first layer.”

Without the slightest hesitation, he stepped inside. There stood a martial artist wielding two swords.

Green energy and murderous intent flowed from him; even at a glance, it was clear he was no ordinary foe.

The chat fell into chaos.

The boss before Myeong-yun was not one that should appear on the first layer.

“DokgoSubscribe”—one of the bosses that randomly appeared from the third layer onward. A martial artist who used twin swords, his setting was that he hunted anyone who approached while blinded by greed for gold and treasure.

While faithfully maintaining the back-and-forth with chat that Sang-hyun considered so important, Myeong-yun focused on the DokgoSubscribe before him.

Myeong-yun recalled a distant past.

A martial artist of the Dokgo surname who had once challenged him.

That man had also used twin swords. He had displayed flashy yet heavy swordplay filled with murderous intent.

“…My gold and treasure shall not be yielded to anyone!”

Perhaps because of everything he had shown so far, the viewers’ reactions leaned in Myeong-yun’s favor.

His previous displays had planted the expectation that he would do it again.

The atmosphere was flowing exactly as Myeong-yun and Sang-hyun desired.

Right before the battle with DokgoSubscribe began, a mission appeared.

It was perfect timing.

Myeong-yun accepted the mission and immediately engaged DokgoSubscribe in combat.

DokgoSubscribe charged with his twin swords at the ready. He unleashed bold swordsmanship aimed at piercing Myeong-yun’s vital points in a single strike.

As expected of a boss from the third layer and beyond, the sword paths would have flustered any player who had not yet adapted to the game.

Myeong-yun twisted his body and took a single step toward the oncoming DokgoSubscribe.

That alone allowed him to slip past the intended sword path by a paper-thin margin.

The instant DokgoSubscribe’s blade sliced empty air, Myeong-yun’s knee slammed into the boss’s abdomen.

However, the boss’s AI determined the damage was negligible and continued its assault.

The twin swords slashed repeatedly, driving Myeong-yun back.

When he was cornered against the wall in the blink of an eye, the viewers grew excited.

Yet despite the viewers’ cheers, DokgoSubscribe’s blades never reached Myeong-yun.

When the boss used the wall behind him as a springboard and leaped forward with both swords thrust out, Myeong-yun simply jumped over him.

In an instant, Myeong-yun had taken his back. His right hand moved.

Starting from the back of the head, he struck the cervical vertebrae and spine in rapid succession.

Because they were vital points, every strike registered as a critical hit.

DokgoSubscribe’s health dropped by more than half in a single moment, and he fell into a stunned state.

To the viewers, Myeong-yun’s attack had looked like a single strike, so the chat was filled with confusion.

Since he had stunned the boss with only one move, they expected the boss fight to end soon.

However, Myeong-yun deliberately created distance and waited for DokgoSubscribe to recover from the stun.

The chat was flooded with question marks at Myeong-yun’s unexpected behavior.

The best time to deal damage was while the enemy was stunned—yet he had retreated.

Whether he was demonstrating the dignity of a true expert or not, the plausible words seemed to convince the viewers.

By then, the boss had recovered from stun and charged at Myeong-yun once more.

Having entered phase two, green energy overflowed from his twin swords, forming sword qi that swirled violently.

Myeong-yun lightly stepped aside to evade the incoming sword qi and closed his eyes.

What a pity.

It really was a shame.

He had hoped a game with a martial arts atmosphere would let him reminisce about his past life, yet in the end, a game was still just a game.

The difference in skill between the DokgoSubscribe before him and the Dokgo expert he had faced in his previous life was as vast as the distance between heaven and earth.

As expected, the martial artists within this game are nothing but imitations.

The strong qi DokgoSubscribe emitted and his movements were ultimately nothing more than products of human imagination.

Flashy swordplay created purely for appearance, without any regard for efficiency.

That was all it amounted to.

Just before DokgoSubscribe’s twin blades reached him, Myeong-yun pivoted on his right foot, spinning half a turn while extending his hand.

Naturally, DokgoSubscribe’s head ended up grasped in Myeong-yun’s palm.

Myeong-yun shoved the head downward, slamming the back of it into the floor.

The health bar plummeted at high speed until it finally hit zero.

The fallen DokgoSubscribe dissolved into black liquid and was absorbed into the ground.

It was part of the setting that those who died inside Narak became one with it.

After confirming the enemy’s death, Myeong-yun straightened his previously bent waist and spoke.