Chapter 8: Seong Si-woo (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 8: Seong Si-woo (1)
The cafe was bustling with people, just like any other day.
“So… she saw you, Hae-in, started laughing, and then suddenly burst into tears?”
“Yeah.”
Sion gently stroked her chin, deep in thought.
“Well… there are a lot of possibilities. But from a woman’s perspective…”
Yes, this was what I wanted. I was right to ask Sion for advice.
“She’s just crazy… no, maybe she’s just having a really hard time? I think I’d be the same way if I were her.”
“You think she’s going through something?”
Sion’s eyes widened at my calm question.
Then, fiddling with her smartwatch, she fixed her gaze on the screen and spoke.
“You didn’t know?”
“Know what?”
What was there to know?
—Ping.
“Read this.”
A message notification chimed on my smartwatch. It was from Sion.
Attached to the message was a news article.
[Kang Yu-sung, Heir to ‘Glory,’ Dead in Mine Attack.]
“Huh?”
What the fuck is this?
Kang Yu-sung. Kang A-rin’s older brother.
He was a character who played a significant role in the story. Not as an ally, but as a villain.
He was a collaborator, secretly working with the Mines.
“Looks like you didn't know. That’s why she couldn’t even come to the entrance ceremony.”
At Sion’s words, I blinked and reread the article.
Kang Yu-sung?
He was a character who could die a hundred times over, and I wouldn’t care. In fact, his death was a good thing.
From a player’s perspective, he was an incredibly tiresome and tricky element.
I had even considered killing him off myself when I was making my plans.
The problem wasn’t simply his death, but the timing of it.
In the original story, Kang Yu-sung’s position as heir is threatened by Kang A-rin’s genius-level talent, leading him to try and harm her.
He was a classic villain who eventually gets caught and killed by Seong Si-woo.
—Cause of death has been identified as multiple mana-inflicted wounds to the abdomen and between the eyes…
—The temple ‘Arcadia,’ which determined the cause of death, analyzed that numerous traces of Mine mana were discovered.
Arcadia. The temple Cheon Yeo-wool belonged to.
It specialized in healing and medical analysis and was often involved in determining the facts in cases like this.
Which made it all the more nonsensical.
They had barely managed to turn the scion of a powerful corporation into a Mine puppet, and now they were going to eliminate him with their own hands?
Those Mine bastards weren’t idiots. There was no way.
Sion continued, “So don’t worry about her and…”
“Sion.”
When I said her name, Sion froze for a moment, her eyes wide.
A faint blush crept onto her face as she answered, her voice slightly flustered.
“Uh… y-yes? What is it?”
“I have to go. Thanks for today.”
*
My mind was racing as I walked back to the dorm.
Dismissing this as mere luck didn’t make sense. There were too many things that didn’t add up.
It was hard to believe this was the work of a single individual.
I couldn’t think of anyone who would do such a thing.
That naturally shifted the suspects toward a team or a guild.
An organization that could eliminate a Mine collaborator without being fazed by the prestige of the Glory Group.
A group meticulous enough to skillfully disguise the cause of death and conceal their identity.
There were only two places that came to mind capable of such a feat.
One was… Glory, the vanguard team of the Maengju Guild, a subsidiary of the Glory Group.
And that, holy shit, was obviously impossible.
The other one was…
A place I knew. And the group closest to me.
I took out my smartwatch and pulled up the contact saved at the very bottom of my list.
[Park Gwang-cheol]
Ah, should I call him or not?
Still, it was probably the right thing to do. This man might be able to tell me what I wanted to know.
He was in a position to know, after all.
—Ring…
“Hello?”
The other end picked up before the first ring had even finished.
Does this guy just sit by his phone all day?
“The maknae is actually calling me? I’m touched.”
“I told you, I’m not the maknae.”
This was why I hated calling him.
“Heh heh, alright. What’s up? Is someone at school giving you a hard time?”
“It’s not that, hyung. Do you happen to know about Glory’s Kang Yu-sung being murdered?”
“…I do. Why? They said he was killed by some Mine.”
“It wasn’t a Mine, was it?”
A strange, heavy silence fell for a moment.
Then, he finally spoke.
“The temple says it was a Mine, so what would we know?”
It didn’t feel like he was going to give me a straight answer. I could sense he was hiding something.
In times like this, beating around the bush was pointless. It was better to just cut to the chase.
“Was it the Old Man?”
“Aigo…”
A deep sigh came through the watch.
Park Gwang-cheol seemed to think for a moment.
“I don’t know how you found out, but it wasn’t us this time.”
“We knew Kang Yu-sung was on their side, but we didn’t think it was time to deal with him yet.”
It wasn’t them.
It wasn’t the Old Man, either.
Park Gwang-cheol might have a casual attitude, but he wasn’t a loose-lipped person.
He was probably telling the truth.
“Then do you know who it was?”
“…I don’t. I really don’t know.”
His short reply was slightly lower in tone.
“Ah, this is driving me crazy. Maknae, how did you know?”
This time, his voice held a bit more seriousness.
“It just felt off. You know I have good instincts.”
“Ah, right, you’re a Whole Person… Anyway, I’m only telling you this because I care about you, got it? This is a secret from the Old Man. Top secret. Understood?”
Park Gwang-cheol lowered his voice, as if to emphasize his last words.
“Yeah, I know. The Old Man is a bit much for me, too.”
I replied, staring blankly at my smartwatch screen.
“Okay, I’m hanging up.”
Just as Park Gwang-cheol was about to end the call, I quickly added something.
I still had more to say.
“Ah, hyung. Wait a sec.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“Can I call you again tonight? There’s something else I need to ask you.”
A short silence passed over the smartwatch.
“…Let’s leave today’s topic here. You’re still young, it’s a bit much to tell you all this.”
“Oh, it’s not about that. It’s something else.”
He let out a light, relieved laugh.
“As long as it’s not that, anything goes, of course. What’s the occasion? The kid who never calls.”
“Thanks.”
A smile spread across my face without me realizing it at his joking tone.
“Alright, hanging up.”
“Yeah.”
The call ended.
I sighed and put my watch away.
In conclusion, it was neither of them.
And that made my head hurt even more.
Ah, but still, fuck it.
Should I just focus on the result?
Ultimately, a viper hidden deep within the hero’s side—one that would have definitely become a problem later—was dead.
Plus, since the Old Man didn’t do it, there was no risk of us getting caught.
And a job that either I or Seong Si-woo would have had to do eventually had taken care of itself.
If I looked at it positively, could it get any better than this?
“It’s a lucky break…”
Muttering to myself, I headed for my dorm.
*
It was already 9 PM.
I was starting to feel like I wanted to wrap things up.
What had I been doing since I got home?
Si-woo, your hyung is going this far for you.
I had been searching for a swordsmanship style for our dear Seong Si-woo, who had so shrewdly gone and chosen the great sword as his weapon.
After digging through a pile of setting books, I was left with two candidates.
The first was ‘Heavenly Demon Swordsmanship.’
How can a martial art be named Heavenly Demon Swordsmanship…
The name sounded ridiculous, but its power and danger were anything but.
In terms of destructive power and rarity alone, it was among the top of all martial arts.
The only problem was this:
[Only those with exceptional talent can use it! If you don’t have talent, you’ll get Qi Deviation and fucking die.]
It was a memo I had written in the setting book ten years ago.
It was exactly as it said. This swordsmanship was extremely picky about its user. I didn’t even know the extent of Seong Si-woo’s talent yet. Shouldn’t I avoid the unfortunate event of him kicking the bucket from Qi Deviation before he even got to use it?
That’s why there was a second candidate.
‘Taecheong Swordsmanship.’
It didn’t take talent into account at all, but it guaranteed definite results for anyone who learned it.
You could think of it as the most standard yet powerful swordsmanship.
Of course, it had a drawback.
Its potential was capped, creating a limit to growth.
Still, it was better than dying. And martial arts weren’t everything.
If I had my way, I’d have him learn the Heavenly Demon Swordsmanship.
So, I was going to find out.
Whether he had the talent or not.
The system at Gaon Academy was good.
You could freely watch recorded class videos on the website and review your own performance for feedback.
It was truly state-of-the-art.
Seong Si-woo… Seong Si-woo…
I searched for his name and downloaded the video from today’s unit practice.
[Jung Hae-in]: Seong Si-woo.MP4
[Jung Hae-in]: Hyung, can you ask the Old Man what he thinks of this kid?
I considered calling, but a message seemed better for this.
The Old Man possessed a talent for analyzing the talents of others.
It sounded a bit funny, but he could analyze a person’s potential. That was the reason the team he created was so strong.
[Park Gwang-cheol]: Hmm? I think the Old Man would do it even if you sent it yourself?
[Jung Hae-in]: Definitely not.
Absolutely not.
The Old Man was afraid I’d get arrogant if I compared myself to my peers, so he would only ever praise me.
That stubborn old geezer.
[Park Gwang-cheol]: Ah lol, you’re probably right. So I just have to show him this and ask?
[Jung Hae-in]: Yeah, please. I really need this.
[Park Gwang-cheol]: Alright, alright, anything for our maknae.
I’m not the maknae.
But I was grateful, so I didn’t bother to argue.
I don’t know how much time passed.
A reply came from Park Gwang-cheol.
[Park Gwang-cheol]: Recording.mp3
A recording?
When I opened the file, it seemed to be a recording of his conversation with the Old Man.
—Old Man, I was digging through the Gaon database and I think I found an amazing kid. Can you take a look?
It was Park Gwang-cheol.
Posing as a scout. Not a bad approach.
—…You have Hae-in for his peer group.
Oho, that’s actually kind of touching.
—Ah, I know, I know, but just take a look. I’m playing it now, okay?
The clashing of weapons and the voices of students could be heard.
It seemed Park Gwang-cheol had played the video.
About five minutes passed.
The sound stopped. The video must have ended.
But the silence continued for another ten seconds after the video was over.
Finally, the Old Man spoke.
—…Park Gwang-cheol, are you fucking blind?
What?
What the hell was that?
—…Yeah, I guess so. Must have seen it wrong.
—Don’t you ever bring me a punk like this again. He has no skill, just overflowing with stubbornness. His habits are already wrong; he’s a lost cause. Where did you find such a rootless punk…
The recording ended there.
An additional message arrived from Park Gwang-cheol.
[Park Gwang-cheol]: Hae-in, are you serious?
[Park Gwang-cheol]: Wasn’t he supposed to be at least decent? I trusted you and played the video, and now I’m the one who’s fucking blind. You should have seen the look in the Old Man’s eyes.
I couldn’t bring myself to reply.
I didn’t have the heart to.
—Thump.
I closed the open setting book and let out a sigh.
“Ah…”
There had been so many possibilities.
He might have chosen a sword. His personality might have been shit.
But through it all, I had believed in one thing: the guaranteed minimum talent of a game’s protagonist.
That was the one thing I’d trusted.
But now, even that belief had shattered.
If the Old Man said he had no talent, then he really had none.
“I’m so fucked.”
The protagonist has no talent.