Chapter 10: "Yaaawn~ Burned It All White."
"Yaaawn~"
Last night, after blowing up the 10th-floor boss room and going wild with the frenzied fans until dawn with an all-nighter chat stream, I'd maxed out my dopamine reserves. It was late afternoon by the time my eyes finally cracked open.
My throat was hoarse from yelling all night, but thanks to the fluffy blankets, my body felt refreshingly light without a hint of fatigue. Stretching as I sat up, I immediately pulled a can of cola from the fridge right in front of me to jolt my half-awake brain cells awake.
Tsssh! I cracked open the cold can and chugged it in one go. The fizzy carbonation zinged down my throat, washing away the afterglow of the all-nighter.
"Kyaah! Nothing beats waking up and slamming a cola to get that tension ping-ping!"
The fallout from yesterday—utterly obliterating the 10th-floor boss, Orc Lord—still had the internet ablaze even a full day later. Thinking of those adorable fans who'd spent the night praising me and speculating about my identity made my lips twitch upward already. Time to convert that hot hype back into my personal dopamine fuel.
I launched a tiny magic drone into the air and fired up a Pababat TV live stream.
[Title: Gyu-ring Fresh from Bed. Let's Stroll the 11th Floor Today!]
The stream went live, and in just one second, the fans who'd been camping in the waiting room surged into the chat like a massive receding tide.
Grinning at the chat flying up fast, I flashed a satisfied smile.
"Hey everyone! Yesterday's 10th-floor stroll ended kinda lame, right? So today, let's heat things up—raid the 11th-floor front yard nice and clean. Get hyped!"
With triumphant flair, I flapped my empty left sleeve and used my remaining right hand to pull up the hunter-exclusive app on my smartphone, magnifying it on the stream screen. Then, with bold confidence, I slammed the reserve button for the 11th-floor gate entry.
But.
Instead of a cheerful reservation confirmation, a massive popup plastered across the center of my stream screen—covered in glaring red warning text.
[Warning: Your hunter account is currently under 'Tower Access Temporary Suspension.']
[Reason: Tower 10th Floor Major Damage Incident—Classified as Association President's Direct Investigation Subject (On-Site Personnel at Time).]
"Uh...?"
I froze stiff as an ice pillar on the bed. The cola can in my mouth nearly tumbled to the floor.
Only now did Elena's chilling glare and final warning from the association's underground bunker yesterday flash through my mind.
'Your Tower access suspension registered in the association system won't be lifted for a while... but you're free to go home.'
Oh crap! In the relief of getting out scot-free and the dopamine-soaked all-nighter stream, I'd completely formatted that terrifying warning about my entire account being locked!
No time to blame my goldfish memory. The chat, seeing the frozen suspension screen on stream, went dead silent for a beat—then exploded in laughter and mockery.
The viewers' mockery and suspicions rained down like arrows. I bolted upright from the bed, launching into shameless method acting.
"No, it's not like that! Hey, use your brains for a sec!"
Gyu-yeon scratched her head in frustration and yelled.
"Some psycho terrorist bastard blew up the entire outer wall of the 10th-floor boss room yesterday!"
She spread her arms wide in disbelief.
"The association's freezing and investigating every hunter account who was on 10F that day to catch the perp!"
Flapping my empty left sleeve, I jabbed accusingly at the screen.
"I was streaming with you guys there yesterday and nearly got crushed by falling debris!"
I glared at the screen like it had personally offended me.
"If I catch that crazy terrorist bastard, I'll chop him in half! I'm a total innocent victim here!"
The viewers fell for my brazen, gutsy nonsense hook, line, and sinker—'Ah, she was streaming on 10F yesterday and got caught in the mess unluckily'—and burst into giggles.
My perfect alibi and shameless acting worked like a charm. Smirking, I smoothly changed the subject with deadpan flair.
"Ahem! Dance? Pfft. Anyway, Tower's blocked today, so if you can't hunt pheasant, hunt chicken!"
Despite the barrage of hooks from viewers in chat, I ignored them and pressed on.
"Today's content: 'Pababat TV Deep Sea Exploration!' I'll pluck out the bottom-feeder rooms and show off Master Gyu-ring's capitalist swagger. Let's dive in~!"
With that declaration, I scrolled the Pababat TV app straight to rock bottom.
The so-called 'deep sea' or 'hooker rooms' where viewer counts dipped below 5 from zero. A true abyss. A haven for no-name streamers pulling off bizarre, outlandish stunts for attention.
I clicked into one at random.
The first room: A top-tier martial artist standing on his head, clumsily sucking spicy stir-fried noodles up his nose with shoddy qi gong. A bald old dude.
I hit donate without hesitation.
Gyu-ring donated 100,000 won.
"Uncle, your nose looks clogged. Chug some milk through it too pls."
Instantly, the bald dude's eyes rolled back, noodles dangling from his nose like he'd entered a trance. He staggered in footwork, tears of gratitude streaming.
"Ahahaha! Money's the best! Look at that spot-on reaction!"
I rolled around on the bed, clutching my stomach in laughter.
The insane reward from the alliance leader—plundered from national budgets. The zeros in my bank account were infinite. Wielding that overwhelming wealth like a weapon, I swept through the deep sea rooms like a typhoon.
100k, 500k, 1 mil won. Each casual mega-donation turned the streamers on the other side of the screen into perfect slaves of capitalism—screaming and dancing grotesquely.
The viewers went wild over their desperate reactions and my money-burning spree, firing off perfect back-and-forth banter that overloaded my brain with 100%+ dopamine.
"Next room? Oh... this title's savage."
Flipping through screens, my eyes locked on a zero-viewer stream.
[Title: F-Rank, Qi 0, Pay Me and I'll Do Odd Jobs · Monster Corpse Dismantling All]
"A girl with no backing doing monster dismantling? Savage agro~"
Curiosity piqued, I clicked in.
A pungent wave of dust and rusty metal assaulted me. The background looked like a massive abandoned junkyard or scrapyard on the city outskirts.
And in the center of the screen stood a woman. Fierce, chilling aura at first glance. Early twenties maybe. A deep knife scar at the corner of her eye gleamed like a predator's badge.
But her eyes staring at the camera were dead fish dull—devoid of all worldly drive or attachment.
Her exposed arms and shoulders under a worn black tank top weren't bulky bodybuilder muscle, but finely sculpted, steel-wire-compressed sinews writhing like snakes with every breath.
In her hand: a massive steel H-beam.
Kang!Kaaaang! The scarred woman swung the brutal metal hunk one-handed, crumpling scrapped trucks like paper. The heavy whoosh tearing air battered my eardrums through the mic.
Yet her expression was as bored and indifferent as morning teeth-brushing.
My fans watching via my stream predictably unleashed harsh mockery.
Viewers utterly dismissed and ridiculed her. Modern hunter systems measure mana quantity; Murim Federation gauges dantian inner power depth and enlightenment for realms. In an era where kids awaken qi and mana as naturally as breathing, she registered zero on both scales—not even basic gathering possible. Third-rate trash. No, a mutant cripple below that.
But.
My eyes saw different.
"Holy...!"
I sprang from the bed like a coiled spring. The cola can nearly spilled onto the sheets.
My clear blue eyes bulged with uncontainable shock.
The insight of the greatest swordmaster in history, who'd stood at murim's peak for decades, piercing all heavenly principles.
To my eyes, that woman was no qi-less tin-can cripple.
Her movements. The minute muscle contractions and relaxations, bone twists, perfect joint load distribution. Every bit screamed ultimate bodily control.
No qi detected, so dumb association hacks judged her F-rank on mana scout numbers alone.
I swept my gaze up and down her form and smirked. The Murim Federation fossils probably did the same—abandoned as a hopeless empty-dantian tin can from childhood.
Catching my breath, I stared at her body again.
It's not that she has no qi.
My eyes flashed.
Bones and muscles of overwhelming density crushing even qi meridians... a perfect body!
I grinned with conviction. A massive karmic fortune visible only to my Mugyeok eyes.
The legendary constitution.
Heavenly Gang Body.
Discarding the qi-holding dantian, her very flesh evolved into a weapon harder than steel, fiercer than beasts. A blessed physique.
But to me? Pure dopamine jackpot.
"Aigoo, you clueless noobs! You see that as some halfwit?!"
My sudden outburst halted the raging chat.
"She's not qi-less—she chose to discard qi for overwhelming physicality!"
Gyu-yeon jabbed at the camera with her right hand, fuming.