Perfect Alibi and Dopamine Rush
A sedan slipped smoothly onto the road after passing through the massive main gate of the Hunter Association headquarters. I sat side by side with the Alliance Leader in the spacious back seat of the custom vehicle. Outside the car window, the dazzling neon lights of Gangnam's nighttime streets flashed by in a blur.
But the air inside the car was frozen solid, like a freezer abandoned in the middle of a Siberian winter plain. A suffocating silence hung heavy. The Alliance Leader kept his lips pressed into a thin line, deep furrows etched between his brows, maintaining a weighty quiet. I could see his fists on his knees trembling ever so slightly.
I rolled my eyes sneakily, gauging his mood. ...Why does he look so pissed? Didn't everything get sorted out fine?
Then it happened. The Alliance Leader suddenly swung his hand in a wide arc.
Whoosh—!
The space inside the vehicle warped faintly as a translucent qi membrane unfurled in a dome shape. A barrier from a Hyeon-gyeong realm expert that perfectly severed communication with the driver's seat, blocking all external sounds, presences, and even mana fluctuations from leaking out. The moment the qi membrane completed, forming a perfect sealed chamber...
"You mad bastard! What the hell did you do in that 10th-floor boss room to make the entire outer wall of the Tower evaporate?!"
The Alliance Leader's lion's roar, bottled up and held back with gritted teeth, exploded, shaking the cramped car interior. The eardrum-shattering boom made me flinch hard, huddling toward the car door. Reflexively, I flapped my empty left sleeve pitifully, protesting my innocence.
"No, hear me out! I just tried out a technique once!" I waved my hand emphatically, as if to emphasize my grievance. "The power way exceeded my expectations—I was shocked myself when the Orc Lord's upper body flew off!"
His gaze still dripped with suspicion.
"That's why I cut the stream sharp! Not a single second of the wall crumbling or the Tower's outer surface collapsing got on camera!"
The Alliance Leader clutched his face with both hands and let out a deep, earth-shaking sigh. "You rotten punk, that's the problem..."
The fact that the world's greatest swordmaster, the Sword Lord, had mimicked some anime move from his room corner and triggered a national disaster seemed to be eating away at his sanity.
"Haa... Heaven truly smiled on us. Pure luck... pure luck." The Alliance Leader rubbed his temples hard. "At least you didn't broadcast the catastrophe live, and thanks to Elena completely falling for your precise, perverted sword draw, you're fully cleared as a bomb terror suspect."
He paused, then glared at me. "If the Association knew you were the idiot behind that mess, you'd be rotting in their underground special prison right now instead of your penthouse."
The Alliance Leader swept a hand over his flushed, blood-boiling face and pleaded earnestly in a weary, hoarse voice. "Please... please, for the love of all that's holy, from now on, don't do anything flashy. Just hole up in your room quietly and read your comics."
I pouted my lips and turned my head away, ignoring his begging. "Fine, I got it... Alliance Leader geezer's nagging just gets longer and longer."
As I glanced out the window, an enigmatic smile played faintly on my lips.
By the time we got home, the shattered front door gleamed like new. The door wrecked by the Hunter raid had been perfectly repaired, not a scratch left on the living room floor either. As expected of an EX-rank Hunter Association president's decree—repair service speed on a national treasure level. Impressive.
Amazed by Elena's thorough orders, I ditched the Alliance Leader's endless nagging and sighs and bolted straight to my private bedroom. I changed into comfy pajamas, used Void Grasping to pull a cold cola and potato chips from the fridge, then flopped onto the bed.
The plush mattress enveloped me softly. Yep, anywhere but home is dangerous! Burrowing deep under the covers, I gazed at the ceiling with a contented, wicked grin.
I calmly replayed the day's events in my head. Perfect! Association head Elena not only firmly believes I'm no terrorist but has me pegged as a 'fragile, pitiful one-armed girl inheriting the Sword Lord's vision.' She's gone off thoroughly deluded. The Alliance Leader, duty-bound to protect me, is relieved he barely averted disaster and's volunteering as my shield. And most crucially, viewers have no clue I'm the one who blew out the Tower's 10th-floor outer wall. Thanks to my perfect snap judgment to end the stream right before the mess unfolded.
Perfect victory. Perfect alibi.
Leisurely picking up my smartphone from the nightstand, I opened the browser like a pro.
"So, what are my cute little Mugungi up to amid this historic fiasco? Time for some popcorn?"
I first logged into the World Murim Gallery, the murim community hub. The moment the page refreshed, even lying in bed, I couldn't stop my grin from splitting ear to ear. The board was a bloodbath battlefield and a massive festival rolled into one. The entire first page was plastered with posts about me.
The deeper I scrolled, the hotter and weirder the board's vibe got. It wasn't just hundreds of comments. Every second refresh dumped dozens more posts plastering me everywhere. My gif was spreading across communities worldwide, gut-punching aspiring hunters and otakus alike.
My prediction hit without a miss. Not one percent suspected me as the 10th-floor outer wall collapse terrorist. The explosion was just chalked up to some 'unknown terror group' as a separate incident. Even the gal who called me 'maybe EX-rank' got roasted as a lunatic.
The 'Gyu-ring' image burned into their minds was singular: [Mysterious weeb streamer who one-combo'd the 10F boss like a toy with overwhelming power, then coolly bounced without a trace.]
That was the internet world's gaze on me right now. Kicking my legs on the bed, I buried my face in the pillow and burst into muffled squeals of delight.
Gyu-hihi! My heart hammered wildly. Exhibitionist instinct snapping its chains, writhing madly through my veins. Crowds worshipping me like a god, hooked on my insane power and absurd concept. My every gesture, every word—making communities quake, users brawling over analyses, veins popping.
This was dopamine you couldn't buy with billions—pure primal human pleasure hijacking my brain. The electric buzz dominating me made my eyes sparkle as I sprang up like a spring.
"Alright! Strike while the iron's hot. Let's go big for round two tonight!"
My pinky-swear promise to the Alliance Leader in the car—'I'll live quietly without drawing eyes'—had long been wiped from my memory. The volcanic dopamine erupting inside me, the thrill of fooling the masses with bullshit—I couldn't resist. No, no reason to.
I'm an Mugyeok absolute. Doing what I want is the way of the world, right?
I snapped my fingers into the air, activating the mini magic drone from standby. Whirr—! With a mechanical hum, its HD lens locked on me perfectly.
[Stream Title: Gyu-ring's All-Night Healing Nogari Broadcast. Answering Any Questions!]
Ten seconds after going live. Like they'd been waiting, Mugungi and viewers crashed the chat like a tsunami.
The chat firepower scrolled too fast to track. I leaned back comfortably against the headboard, shot a light wink at the camera lens, flapped my empty left sleeve, and drew a cute V-sign with my right hand.
"Hiii~ Everyone, so glad to see you. Did my Mugungi miss me lots? Hehe."
The deviant thrill of playing innocent with big round eyes before viewers, while being the true culprit who half-destroyed the Tower. I chugged some cola refreshingly, hiding my twitching smirk with a world-class smile toward the screen beyond.
"Ahh, this is why I stream."
Association in uproar, Alliance Leader clutching his neck and collapsing? Whatever. The world's top swordmaster—no, streamer 'Gyu-ring's second life rolled on today, perfectly peaceful and utterly stimulating.