The Returnee's Strategy Guide (1)

"Shall we head in, then?"

Having steeled herself, Seolhwa stepped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into the capsule. A soft cushioning sensation enveloped her, and a moment later her vision went dark as the boot sequence began.

Once the capsule finished booting, she passed through My Room and logged into Last Promise — everything had been saved exactly as it was the moment she'd quit the game.

"Just as I left it."

After checking once more that her body moved properly, Seolhwa's next action was to set up her chat window.

Of course, she could have simply turned the stream off. But she'd decided not to.

Somehow, she could almost hear that person nagging her.

The community won't do — you need a YouTube channel too, she'd said, and every filming session had been a chore after that.

And yet the words she always said never changed.

"A hero is only a hero because people remember them. Look at Admiral Yi Sun-sin. He's a hero because everyone remembers him. I think the people in our party, in our guild, are worth remembering like that."

Back then, she hadn't taken those words to heart.

But now that I think about it... that's all that's left.

A lonely smile settled on Seolhwa's lips.

Gathering her courage, she set the chat window somewhere visible — and messages began flooding in at once.

It's just chat. This should be fine.

Watching the messages scroll by, Seolhwa spoke.

"I'm reading them this time, actually."

"Some of it, yeah."

The moment Seolhwa said that, the chat window went berserk.

"Kidding. I didn't see any of it."

Seolhwa smiled faintly as she watched the chat spin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠itself into a frenzy.

This is fine.

She wasn't stumbling over her words. Her hands weren't shaking.

She wasn't suffocating the way she had been outside.

Drawing on what she remembered from watching internet streamers back in the day, Seolhwa began steering the conversation herself.

"First of all, I know what you're all curious about."

With that, Seolhwa pulled Aurora from her inventory.

A series of mechanical clicks rang out, and the weapon shifted into the form of a compact pistol. Next, she braced the grip, the barrel lengthened, a stock sprouted from the rear — and it became an assault rifle.

Seolhwa cycled Aurora through a few more shapes before settling it back into a bow.

Having gauged her viewers' reactions, Seolhwa opened her mouth slowly.

"A goddess gave it to me."

She'd chosen to simply tell the truth.

That's what I said back then, too.

But the viewers' reaction to that answer was heated in a very different way.

Reading that chat, Seolhwa pressed on.

"But why do you all watch my gameplay, anyway?"

This was pure, genuine curiosity. She wanted to know why people watched her play — why she'd set the community on fire like this.

"I see. Well, I'm not actually that pretty, though."

"I mean it."

Seolhwa was completely sincere.

"Yuri was far prettier than me, you know."

She'd always believed her old companions were more beautiful than she was.

But the viewers' reaction was nothing like what she'd expected.

Seolhwa read the incoming chat slowly, and smiled a little.

So this is what it felt like?

She took one deep breath and spoke.

"Let me make one thing clear. I am not a streamer. I'm just a user who plays the game. Remember that, and nothing else."

With that said, Seolhwa started walking.

People were typing out their own experiences with the game into the chat window.

"Hmm. How long does it take to get to Gyeongbokgung from here?"

Checking her map, Seolhwa settled into her stance and began to run.

It was the place she had to reach if she wanted to find what she needed right now.

The same distance she'd traveled ten years ago.

The streets of Seoul as Seolhwa remembered them.

But the viewers watching this unfold were slowly losing their minds.

"Almost there."

Running at an easy pace, Seolhwa loosened up her body — then with a thunderous BOOM, she took off at full sprint.

She was circulating mana through her entire body, reinforcing herself as she ran.

At tremendous speed she weaved past NPCs, and before anyone realized it she was leaping between rooftops, building to building.

Barely five minutes after leaving Gangnam Station, the Han River Bridge came into view.

Having cleared the crossing, Seolhwa paused to catch her breath.

"It's been a while. I'm rusty."

Then she set her stance again and ran toward Gyeongbokgung.

The distant statue of King Sejong the Great told her she was close to the palace grounds. Seolhwa pushed herself a little harder.

I'm here.

Seolhwa glanced at the chat and gave exactly one reply.

"If you try, you can do it."

Needless to say, she left out the part where she'd spent ten years perfecting the technique. The viewers, who knew nothing of that, began typing in sheer disbelief.

Passing between a pair of haetae guardian statues, she was greeted by Gwanghwamun, the main gate of Gyeongbokgung.

Users who had grown up on hunter novels had combed every inch of this game when it first launched, hunting hidden pieces as if they'd become the protagonist of a web novel themselves.

But they were not novel protagonists. Their efforts yielded nothing, and they settled for clearing the gates that opened naturally as the story progressed.

"Now, where was it again?"

Seolhwa pulled up her minimap and began walking through Gyeongbokgung.

Past Geunjeongjeon, the throne hall, and deep into the grounds, a beautiful flower-patterned wall and a chimney came into view.

It was Jajeongjeon, the residence of the royal queens and dowagers.

"Found it."

Seolhwa passed the flower wall and slipped through the door. Then she summoned Aurora and began scraping it along the building's paper windows.

Screeeech—

Screeeech—

The scraping sound echoed through the silent halls of Jajeongjeon.

With every panel she dragged the blade across, the stench of fish and brine grew stronger.

But Seolhwa paid it no mind and kept scraping. At last, when every window of Jajeongjeon had been scored, the air around her began to grow heavy.

As Seolhwa stood in the courtyard of Jajeongjeon, space warped — and a gate appeared.

"So I wasn't wrong."

While Seolhwa wore a satisfied smile, the people watching could hardly believe their eyes.

Oblivious to their anguish, Seolhwa walked into the gate.

The moment she stepped through, the bright sunlight vanished — and cold moonlight lit up the sky above.

It was clearly the same Jajeongjeon, but the ground was churned to mud and a fishy reek hung heavy in the air.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Whew. I'll never get used this fish stench."

Seolhwa put her mask back on.

The moment the quest window appeared, a monster's legs came crawling up over the flower wall from the other side.

Grroooowl—

Revealing itself with that ominous cry, the monster looked exactly as the Annals described — sapsaree-like in appearance, but the size of a foal.

Seolhwa summoned Aurora and drew the bowstring.

Twang—!

The instant the string released, the water creature lunged at her.

The arrow struck it square between the eyes. But the creature paid it no heed and kept charging.

Its target wasn't Seolhwa at all. It was Jajeongjeon behind her.

"It's looking down on me, the little runt."

Seolhwa shifted Aurora into its shotgun form and planted herself in the creature's path.

Then she pulled the trigger.

BANG—!

Flame flashed from the muzzle, and a brutal recoil slammed into her shoulder.

Struck by the blast, the water creature rolled across the ground in agony.

Click-clack—!

"Well? Feeling like a conversation now?"

Screeching, the wounded creature hurled itself at Seolhwa again.

"That's the spirit."

The moment its jaws gaped open, Seolhwa lunged into it, jammed the gun down its throat, and pulled the trigger.

"Next."

At her word, two more water creatures began clambering over the wall.

The viewers, well-versed in games of this genre, had already read the dungeon's mechanic.

Seolhwa glanced sidelong at the chat window and spoke.

"That's right. They come in doubles. Which means I don't think I can catch them all with this anymore."

Aurora, which had worn the shape of a shotgun, began to transform.

The stock and pistol grip remained much the same, but the barrel stretched and bulked into the form of a colossal ballista.

A massive silver harpoon slid into place, loaded and ready.

WHUMP—!

Compressed mana erupted, hurling the harpoon forward.

A silver streak — faster than an arrow, heavier than a bullet — tore through the empty air.

"That's going to sting. A lot."

The harpoon buried itself in the crown of one water creature's skull, and it let out a hideous shriek.

Seolhwa didn't stop there — she launched another harpoon at the next creature.

Worried as they were about the multiplying creatures, the viewers still found themselves anticipating whatever new skill this latest form of Aurora would unveil.

This is exactly why I always hated this place.

Seolhwa took her position and drew a deep breath. She'd decided to make use of the fact that, for now, the monsters were climbing over the wall on the front side only.

"Let's give it a shot."