#35 Sticking Out His Thumb with a Grin
A young Sung-jun huddled in the corner of the video room, draped under a blanket, his eyes glued to the TV.
Overwhelming loneliness, fear, loss, and sorrow crashed over him. Sung-jun clenched his teeth.
There, on the screen—a hero in yellow clothes pummeled enemies bare-handed from all sides.
-Rat-tat-tat-tat!
-Ah-choo!
Sung-jun squeezed his eyes shut. In the darkness, he saw his mother engulfed in Kang Tae-wang's flames. He snapped his eyes open in shock.
'Mom...'
Tears welled up, but Sung-jun didn't cry. Crying was for cowards. So he made a vow: whenever the tears came, he'd grin like that man on TV.
Sung-jun stuck out his thumb and flashed a grin. But his eyes burned with venom.
'If I get strong.'
A hero invincible, crushing foes swarming from every direction!
'If I get strong, no one can ignore me.'
He'd become unstoppable. Untouchable. Envied by all.
And then...
'I'll have my revenge.'
That was his resolve.
'I won't cry until then.'
-Rat-tat-tat!
-Ah-choo! Ah-choo!
Lulled by those sounds like a lullaby, he ground his teeth and closed his eyes.
"Ugh..."
When King opened his eyes, sunlight poured through the window. The shadow over him came from Furball panting in front of the bed.
'Déjà vu?'
King sat up groggily.
"Ugh..."
As he swung his legs off the bed, a thought struck him.
'Feels light?'
His legs, once so heavy, now felt manageable. He walked slowly outside, where Theo was feeding the Thunderbird chicks.
"Ah, good morning."
King greeted Theo with a clasped-hand bow. Honestly, the guy looked like a fool. Not particularly strong, yet acting like a big shot. Sometimes his words made him seem like he'd crawled out of some lost civilization.
Intriguing, though. And if he was a friend of Kang-ho's, King would treat him like an elder brother.
[Sure.]
Theo nodded. King blew his nose and pulled out his smartphone. He roughly combed his hair back and stroked his chin. Beard growth.
'Perfect.'
He snapped a selfie—beard full and scruffy, face still tired, sunlight streaming behind for a mystical vibe.
Click!
Likes and comments flooded in immediately. King's popularity among the youth was massive. Smiling at the sight, he noticed Theo peering over.
[What's that?]
"Huh?"
[That treasure. What're you doing with it?]
"Treasure?"
King suddenly recalled Kang-ho's warning: don't tease him too much since he's clueless about modern stuff.
"Oh, this is a smartphone."
Ding-ding-
Alarms kept chiming.
[What's all that ringing?]
"Yeah, this is SNS."
King explained SNS simply, and Theo's face filled with envy.
[Whoa, nice...]
"......?"
[I want one too.]
"Just... buy one?"
[No money for something that amazing.]
Theo looked genuinely downcast.
'Broke?'
King tilted his head. Hard to imagine Kang-ho short on cash... but glancing at the simple cabin, no car, no jewels, no artifacts—maybe.
Theo spoke again.
[Anyway, I get SNS now. But why bother?]
King hesitated, scratching his head.
"......Everyone here envies me."
[Envy?]
"Yeah......"
[I see...]
"And... I wanna show off how well I'm doing, how awesome I am... to those people..."
King trailed off.
"You're up."
Kang-ho approached from afar. Theo glanced nervously at him.
[Uh, I, I have a favor.]
"Favor?"
[Yeah.]
"What?"
Kang-ho handed King a vest-like garment.
"Ah, thanks... ugh!"
King toppled forward.
'Eek...'
The vest was far heavier than the ankle weights. King peeked up at Kang-ho, who smiled.
"Wear it. And..."
He turned to Theo.
"What favor?"
[B, b, buy me one of those.]
"Hm?"
Kang-ho eyed King's phone. Theo flinched.
[Y, y, you're probably too broke... yeah, treasures like that aren't cheap...]
"......"
Under Kang-ho's stare, Theo deflated, head down.
[Forget it...]
Smartphone... Kang-ho remembered.
'Oh, right—asked Cheol-bae for one.'
He'd forgotten. He fetched the spare from his jacket inside and offered it to Theo, whose eyes bulged.
Thump-thump-thump!
His heart raced wildly.
[C, c, can I really take this treasure?]
"Ngh... Huh? That's the latest model?"
King struggled into the vest and stood shakily.
"Is it?"
Kang-ho said nonchalantly. King nodded.
"Hasn't even launched yet. I just pre-ordered. Wow... sleek. How'd you get it?"
"Just happened."
Cheol-bae must've pulled strings. Kang-ho chuckled. Theo beamed with emotion.
[F, for me... How can I ever repay...]
"......I'll ask a favor later. Just do it then."
Theo nodded frantically.
[A, anything... I'll give my life for it.]
"You're running again."
King jolted.
"Yes, sir!"
As King bolted, Seol-a leaped from Kang-ho's arms and chased after, panting.
Kang-ho watched, his face slowly hardening coldly.
Flinch!
Theo, fiddling with his new phone and grinning goofily, startled.
[Y, y, should I give it back?]
"Your mana training method's unique."
[Huh?]
Theo blinked. Kang-ho had observed it.
"Family secret?"
[......Y, yeah. How'd you know?]
He'd hidden it. Kang-ho had stopped suppressing his mana hole lately, so Theo trained whenever possible—sneaking out at night claiming snores.
Mana cultivation methods: each master had their own for absorbing, gathering, and using mana. Different methods yielded different results.
Park Jun-woo's Sword God style emphasized precise, efficient mana use. Bow God's focused explosive bursts.
And matching release systems. Thus, varied power styles.
Training an archer with sword methods? Inefficient—it was swordsman-only.
Theo's was exceptionally unique.
"You refine mana over and over, leaving only the purest."
Kang-ho poked Theo's heart.
"Slow buildup, but incredibly pure."
Why Seol-a trailed him nagging for treats: his mana was Michelin three-star, not junk food.
[......]
Theo sweated.
"Could you teach it to someone later?"
[Teach?]
"Universal excellence. Haven't seen its like here."
[......]
Theo stared. Itilurg clan was gone—lost to Baal. He was the last.
[I'll... think about it.]
"Sure."
Kang-ho nodded lightly, then continued.
"You went to that human city recently?"
[Huh? Oh, Daejeon? Nice place...]
Theo looked nostalgic.
"Notice anything odd?"
[Odd?]
"Yeah."
[Like?]
"Demonic energy, say."
[Hm... no. You've been heading out nights to that city?]
Kang-ho nodded slowly. Tips from Lee Min-ah:
Lebadon direct descendants vanished from public. And oddly high raid/hunt deaths in the past year.
He'd checked Daejeon—no red flags.
"Hm. Got it."
Time flew. King's gear piled on: ankle guards, vest, wrist guards, gloves. Gravity x10 all over.
Seol-a panted slowly beside him—turtle-paced. Her cute Santa vest thickened; pitiful sight.
Whoosh!
She whipped her head away primly.
"......"
Sassy. But now, armored, he moved freely. King straightened unconsciously. Muscles bulked legs/arms, veins popped. Old clothes didn't fit anymore.
A month. Unseen growth.
"......!"
Staring at his limbs in disbelief—
"That's enough."
Kang-ho called.
Huff—!
Seol-a flopped, tongue out, panting wildly. King nodded slowly.
Vrrr-
"......"
Kang-ho stood before King, staring at the message.
"Ranking match soon."
"Yes."
"From now, train that till time's up."
"That...?"
"Yeah."
Kang-ho grinned. King recoiled, chilled.
"Moves well. Solid foundation for a month."
"Th, th, thanks to you..."
Kang-ho's smile faded.
"Kang Tae-wang scare you?"
Flinch!
"Eyes shut, nightmares?"
"......"
King swallowed.
"Real fight too—you'll shrink. Fear rises, shaking. Trauma's like that—buried deep, leaks out."
True. King blinked, gulping.
"Against that, skill edge won't win. Train to overcome."
"Overcome...?"
"Yeah."
"H, how?"
"Experience real death."
"Pardon?"
"Worked for me."
"You had... trauma?"
Kang-ho gazed, smiled bitterly.
"Did."
Crack-crack—
He stretched.
"......Wait, why stretch?"