A Q&A of Questionable Motives
"Just one thing has me curious, I must say. What conceivable reason — what conceivable reason under heaven could anyone have for asking the color of my undergarments?"
Struck dumb, I could only fire the question straight back. I had certainly heard that such impish questions existed. Yes — heard being the operative word. Never once did it occur to me that one might be aimed at me.
"I dunno...? Probably they just wanna see you get flustered. Or maybe it's, like, a whole bit someone committed to?"
"A prank and a bit, is it."
I knew full well the world bred every manner of human creature, and yet reality, as ever, outstripped imagination.
"You can totally just skip it! Honestly, I think skipping is the right move here!"
A sensitive matter for them, no doubt — but to me it was simply cloth and color, nothing more. I had merely been caught off guard. Come to think of it, how long had it been since I wavered like this? Ah, right. It was when a friend I hadn't seen in ten years bolted clean out of the Emei Sect to come see me. Not that anyone could say such a thing to my face, of course. Remarkable, in more ways than one.
As for what she made of my condition: she swallowed hard a few times, then drained the Americano she had ordered only moments before, gulp after gulp.
"It is black."
"PBBT—!"
Oh dear.
"Khh—khak—hack!"
To any passerby, it would look for all the world as though I had her by the throat.
"Haah... well, koff, what did you... hooah!"
Would she suffocate at this rate? Even as I wondered, I marveled at how she somehow kept her breathing going. Ah, but of course. Aso, she too was of Murim... hmm, yes, Murim. A game, they call it, but a Murim person all the same. With what meager comprehension she possessed, she had taken the lesson of breath thoroughly to heart.
"My undergarments, I said."
"No! You're not supposed to just SAY stuff like that!"
What baffling words. Was it not your own mouth that produced the question in the first place?
"You ask, and then object to the answer?"
"What? No, I didn't ask that!"
She protests her innocence most earnestly, yet was it not she who plucked that question from the queue? Such is karma.
"And why, pray tell, would it be unspeakable?"
"B-because that's usually, like... a sensitive topic..."
Usually a sensitive topic, is it. What makes her so certain I fall under that usually?
"Do not fold me into your 'usually.' Whether a thing is sensitive is mine alone to judge."
If not I myself, then no one under heaven may measure me by their own yardstick.
"You just seemed like you hated it..."
"I was merely caught off guard. I never dreamed I would receive such a question."
"Ahaha... yeah, those are rare. Like, almost nonexistent, honestly."
"So — has your curiosity been satisfied?"
"Thank you for the two-hundred-twenty-dollar donation... they say it's been cleared up..."
Strange. Even after pocketing a rather hefty sum, she did not look particularly pleased. On her face, more than joy — exhaustion? I could guess the reason well enough, so I shall let the matter rest.
"Then give me the next question."
"Okay, second question! From a user called... TeachsGal...? What is that nickname—"
Cutting a word off mid-speech only makes it more suspicious, does it not, Aso? And what in blazes is Gal supposed to be? Is there some hidden vulgarity lurking in that syllable?
"Anyway, someone's asking how old you actually are, Teach!"
Age, is it... Sharper than she looks. To the eye, I could scarcely be past my twentieth year. Or perhaps this is simply her way of needling me. No — that is likelier the truth of it. They are, after all, a people whose finest art is the riling of others.
"My age, then. In your eyes, how old do I seem?"
"Hmm, from where I'm standing... you look super young on the outside, but the whole vibe is kind of... how do I put it."
"Like an old man?"
"Uh, yes. Like an old man...? Oh."
"So that was your honest heart all along?"
"N-no! That's not it!"
Truly, an easily broken creature. Why must she flounder so?
"For your sake, then, since you're floundering — I shall propose a game. You will name an age, and I shall tell you whether it is above or below the mark."
"Oh. Okay."
Somehow, of late, that little "oh, okay" seems to have taken up residence on her tongue. And yet it is absolutely not my imagination, is it? I must have heard that little word a dozen times by now. What choice have I? Accept it, I suppose... haah.
"First, know this: I am older than you think."
"Then... twenty-six!"
"Oh."
Twenty-six, is it. Progress, for Aso. I had expected her to cap out at twenty-four or so, given the "older" hint.
"Was I close?"
"Above."
"What?"
"I am far older than you imagine."
"Umm... thirty? Ah, no wait! You're supposed to be old, Teach! Why are you doing this to me?! What, sore about it? Then YOU be Teach! Everything's my fault, huh!"
Having evidently taken a scolding from her own viewers, she was carrying on most clamorously. Doubtless they told her she was aiming too high, not to have a meltdown, that sort of thing. But no amount of meltdown could reveal to them what my age truly was.
Now that I consider it, I am already well on my way to fifty — the age at which one comes to know the mandate of Heaven. Well, what of it? No one troubles themselves over how many years a widower piles up, so it hardly signifies. And yet my sides ache with a sudden chill. My one and only disciple is somewhere beyond the edge of this world, after all.
Biya...
"It seems even thirty is a generous stretch for you. Above, I say."
"Huh...? No, hold on. Teach!"
"Is something the matter?"
"I-I would never dare doubt you, obviously... but really? Above thirty?"
What is seen is not the whole of a man... though this other world does insist on showing a great deal. After all, there is no such thing here as the rising of inner power or the ascension of realms — no aura, no bearing to read. And amid all that, a single doubt occurred to me. This place is, without question, a virtual world, is it not? One ought to be able to shape one's body at will — so why does she never once suspect that this appearance of mine is a fabrication?
"You don't think this form of mine is a lie, then? As you well know, this is virtual reality."
"Teach, you can only use Virtual Public spaces if it's your real face."
Virtual Public? Usable only with one's true face?
"No one ever explained any such thing to me."
True, I was the one who proposed visiting the café — but having no notion how one went about such an outing, I had simply followed Aso's lead to this place. How was I to know it was a "Virtual Public"? I had heard the very concept for the first time not a minute ago.
"Oh! They only warn the people who tweaked their faces. Untweaked people get in with no notice at all, apparently."
"Hmm. Is that so."
"Yep! So it's biomechanically impossible for you to be older than thirty! That's my point!"
Biomechanics? What conceivable bearing does my age have on biomechanics...
"What? Biomechanics isn't about that? Whatever, don't care — so seriously, how old are you actually?"
I had told her we might simply move on to the game, and now she presses the hunt. Drag it out any further and I shall hear no pleasant things, so best to be quick about it.
"I am forty-eight. On the very threshold of knowing Heaven's mandate, no less."
"Forty-eight...? Oh, quit lying. Seriously — ah, how old are you, really?"
Curious — the moment she called it a lie, her "how old are you" turned into "how old are you," honorific and all.
"Forty-eight is the truth of it. Ah — though on paper, I am twenty-three."
I spoke no falsehood. The twenty-five years I spent in Murim were never so much smoke and mirage.
"Oh, so you're twenty-three then!"
"Let us say so and be done with it."
Best to agree and move along, no? Even were I to insist I was forty-eight — even were it the plain truth — I doubt they would believe me.
"Now then. What is the next question?"
"Third question is... phew. It's from WaaahBaby23."
And that is what passes for a normal enough nickname to breathe a sigh of relief over! What manner of den of beasts is this world...? A week has passed since I came to dwell here, and still I understand nothing of it.
Did I not expressly bar personal questions? Does she not see, plain as day, how every last question brims to the lip with private hunger?
"I-if you want a really, really self-serving question, one of them was... um, from LeeJeongAh, asking whether you'd be willing to take Lee Jeong-ah, thirty-ninth-generation descendant of the Gyeongju Lee clan..."
"Wh... in heaven's name..."
Who under the sun is this Lee Jeong-ah, thirty-ninth-generation descendant of the Gyeongju Lee clan...?
"You've clearly been traumatized, so let's just say the eleven questions after this one don't exist!"
"That is for the best. Yes — you asked about a lover. I had none in the past, and I have none now."
"You did say you were forty-eight, right?"
"Yes... in all that long stretch of time, I never once won a woman's hand..."
It was never that I despised women, nor that I lacked for charm. The bitter truth is that I did not merely refrain from taking a lover — I could not. By the time such thoughts began to stir in me, the Demonic Cult was already rampant across the land. To forge a lover's bond in the midst of such days, I judged, would be a cruelty to us both.
"I did wish for one, you know. A lover of my own."
And when at last I cut down the Heavenly Demon and brought peace to the world, every woman who had once shared my heart had already been seated in posts from which they could not withdraw... That a woman who had been nothing more than a lay disciple should have become a sect leader in her own right — I should like to believe that, too, was simply fate leaving me no other path.
"What else was I to do? A sect leader, she tells me."
"Okay okay, this question ends HERE! Ends here! Next question!"
"Haah... very well. What is it?"
"Um... it's from McDoriaKetchupThief13Yrs. 'Besides Mukgeomrok, do you have any interest in streaming other games?'"
"Another game, is it..."