The Worst Awakening Ability
I opened my eyes to the familiar white space. 'When did I even fall asleep?'
'...And why am I still stuck in this woman's body even in my dreams?'
Perky breasts, a narrow waist, and moderately wide hips. From the neck down, it was every woman's ideal figure. Too bad the face was ugly. No, that wasn't the important part. This was just weird.
That's right. Dreams are supposed to be the product of the human subconscious, right? So why was I still in this woman's form even here, instead of my perfectly wonderful original body?
...Well, that wasn't important either. My limbs were about to get chopped off soon anyway.
'Wait a second!'
A thought struck me like lightning.
"I don't actually have to go find that black bastard! I can just stay right here until the dream ends!"
Time passed. One hour. Two hours. Three hours...
......Twenty-six hours. Twenty-seven hours...
'...Why won't I wake up?'
A disturbing hypothesis suddenly formed in my mind.
'...Is it possible that dream time only starts flowing the moment I meet that black guy?'
I had to test it. I stopped trying to endure and immediately stood up, walking straight forward.
'Please, please... let my theory be wrong...'
After walking for quite a while, a single black dot finally appeared in the distance against the white world, growing closer. My heart felt unbearably heavy.
When the distance between us had closed to about ten steps, I tried something new.
'Why do you always get the first attack?'
This time, I initiated the attack first using the Heugam-dol stance.
'I'm attacking first!'
I hurled my body's center of gravity forward to close the distance in an instant, then twisted my waist to its absolute limit. Using that recoil, I explosively whipped my shoulder and arm forward!
Extreme speed sword! Sword of light! Sword of light speed!
My holy light sword draw!
It was the most perfect execution of the Heugam-dol stance I'd attempted over the past two days.
"Die!"
But the black doll simply tilted its head back slightly, raised one shoulder, and casually flicked my sword away with a light tap.
[Kaang!]
My sword's trajectory bent ridiculously off course.
'...Shoulder roll?'
What, are we boxing now? Is that even possible in real combat?
I tried to forcibly recover the twisted trajectory, but at that moment, the doll's Heugam-dol flashed!
In an instant, my vision was swallowed by darkness.
'Wow. How did I die this time? Did it gouge out my eyes?'
With that stupid thought, I died again.
And then.
My eyes opened once more. The black bastard was standing right in front of me.
That night, I died ninety-five times.
Before my eyes opened, my consciousness returned first. I hadn't noticed it on the first day, but after going through it for two days, I finally understood.
This sensation... When I opened my eyes, it would be reality.
Yeah. That's right...
...But the more I thought about it, the angrier I got.
I'm going through this absolute hell just to escape this place, and while I'm getting chopped into pieces and dying a total of one hundred and ninety-five times, what the hell were you bastards doing? Sleeping soundly all night?
You vicious demonic bastards.
I felt the need to vent the rising fury. Otherwise, I'd get stress sickness. Hwa-byung, they call it.
Alright. I poured every ounce of my rage into a lion's roar.
"Kuaaaack! How long are you going to sleep?! Aren't we training?! You vicious demonic bastards!"
...Huh?
Instead of the usual torrent of curses like "You crazy bitch!", all I heard were half-hearted sounds like "Hmph," "Good grief," and "Tsk."
With my eyes still closed, I looked up at the ceiling of the Repentance Cave—the Vision Manifestation Array.
...Oh my god.
All the demonic bastards were already awake.
In this pitch-black Repentance Cave where you couldn't tell night from day, waking up early wasn't easy. Weren't these lazy bums the type who only scrambled up when the fake monk brought breakfast?
So why were they all up already?
"What's going on? Why is everyone up so early? Did the sun rise in the west, or did I oversleep?"
In response to my question, the Thousand Poison Old Man cleared his throat and answered.
"Ahem. Madwoman, as you said... we should put effort into training. We need to start waking up early too."
"Oh! You've finally come to your senses?"
I spoke as if I were genuinely impressed.
"That's right. If you're lacking, you just have to work hard. Look at me—I'm this talented and I still work this diligently, don't I?"
'...Ah, that's right!'
The Heaven-Shattering Divine Power Art was important, but there was something more urgent right now.
'I need to learn the Dark Heaven-Defying Sword if I want to die fewer times tonight!'
I immediately started pestering the Thousand Poison Old Man.
"Mister! The latter twelve stances! Hurry! Right now!"
When I pressed him, the Thousand Poison Old Man shook his head.
"Madwoman. Learning the stances is important, but right now we need to focus on recovering our weakened bodies and accumulating internal energy first. We should practice the Heaven-Shattering Divine Power Art. Let's do the Dark Heaven-Defying Sword in the afternoon."
I reluctantly agreed with him.
'Well...'
He was right. The Dark Heaven-Defying Sword was only urgent for me. For these demonic bastards, recovering their bodies came first.
'Fine. Recover quickly and become my sturdy meat shields for the escape.'
Last night, thanks to practicing the Dark Heaven-Defying Sword stances and the actual combat against that 'black Pepsi Man,' the number of times I died had decreased by five. (Total: 95 times!)
Honestly, I wanted to focus solely on the Dark Heaven-Defying Sword right away. That way I'd die less tonight.
But the proper way to get stronger was to train the Heaven-Shattering Divine Power Art alongside it.
'Right. Let's reduce the death count... gradually.'
Fundamentally, to escape this place, the correct strategy was this parallel approach—building the body with the Heaven-Shattering Divine Power Art and mastering the techniques with the Dark Heaven-Defying Sword.
Besides...
'I'm getting a bit curious about what the true effects of continuing to train the Heaven-Shattering Divine Power Art will be once the body is fully recovered.'
Hye-yul headed early in the morning toward Hyangjeokjeon, the hall responsible for Shaolin's offerings.
Yesterday, he'd heard from the senior monk in charge of the kitchen that today's breakfast offering would be dumplings.
"Why are they giving the demonic bastards in the Repentance Cave a special meal?"
Hye-yul explained that he still felt guilty about collectively starving the prisoners a few days ago.
"Your heart is too soft, junior brother. The demonic bastards are beings beneath human dignity. There's no need to look after them like that."
When Hye-yul made a troubled face, the senior monk firmly stated that this was a one-time exception and he shouldn't do it again.
While carrying the dumplings toward the Repentance Cave at the peak of Mount Song, Hye-yul wondered why he kept paying attention to that 'Blood Hand Witch.'
In the eleven years since he'd joined Shaolin, he'd always maintained an unshakable immovable mind. Yet recently, that mind kept wavering, and he couldn't understand why.
'It's probably just simple curiosity upon seeing a rare peer of the opposite sex.'
Then suddenly, the image of the Blood Hand Witch's pure white naked body flashed before his eyes.
"...Amitabha Buddha!"
Hye-yul shook his head violently, steeling his heart against evil.
Upon arriving at the small side door of the Repentance Cave, Hye-yul opened it and stepped inside. The demonic bastards were waiting for their breakfast offering.
When his eyes met the Blood Hand Witch's, she flinched and gave an awkward smile.
'Strange.'
Ever since a few days ago, he'd felt that the atmosphere in the Repentance Cave changed strangely whenever he entered. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something... had definitely changed.
'What is it?'
When he brought out the dumplings instead of porridge, the demonic bastards and the Blood Hand Witch exaggerated their delight.
'Weird.'
The atmosphere felt somehow artificial and bizarre. But it didn't seem like anything dangerous would happen, so Hye-yul let it slide for now.
As he distributed the dumplings and stood in front of the Blood Hand Witch's cell, their eyes met again.
Suddenly, he grew curious.
Large eyes, a straight nose, elegant lips, a delicate jawline. Snow-white skin. To his eyes, her appearance was in no way inferior to the 'Four Flowers of Murim'—the greatest beauties of the martial world he'd seen at last year's Dragon Phoenix Meeting.
'Why on earth... do they all say she's ugly?'
It was impulsive. Hye-yul asked the demonic bastards,
"Is this Blood Hand Witch... beautiful? Or is she ugly?"
...What?
A brief silence fell. Then, merciless evaluations poured in from all directions.
"There's no uglier wench than that one."
"Ugly and crazy to boot."
"Does a face like that even work in the current Murim? It's the end of the world, I tell you."
'......'
I stared at the fake monk in utter disbelief. He glanced at me, then turned away with a casual,
"......"
Tilting his head slightly before leisurely disappearing through the side door.
Having completely screwed me over.
'What the hell is wrong with that guy? Is he messing with me right now?'
"That fake monk bastard... I'm going to kill him!"
In response to my firm resolution, Gapjil Jijon chimed in.
"That's right! You're absolutely correct, you ugly bitch! How dare that young monk toy with someone as naturally ugly and vulgar as you by asking if you're 'pretty'! Even I'm getting heated up!"
When I glared at Gapjil Jijon in the next cell with eyes like hooks, the Thousand Poison Old Man from the cell across comforted me.
"Ugly woman... I mean, Madwoman. Don't pay any attention to what that young monk says. Besides, we have a special meal today, don't we? I'll give you one of my dumplings."
"Poisonous bastard! Didn't you say you'd yield one to me at the next special meal?! Keep your promise! Give it to me!"
Gapjil Jijon shouted, stretching his arm pathetically through the iron bars.
"Ah! That's right, Madwoman. Then I'll give it to you at the next special meal. I did promise Brother Gapjil, after all."
The Thousand Poison Old Man smiled apologetically and tossed one dumpling toward Gapjil Jijon.
The dumpling flew in a slow arc.
Gapjil Jijon's hand reached out for it.
Right at that moment!
Lightning-fast snatch!
My hand shot out through the iron bars like lightning, precisely catching the dumpling in midair.
Gapjil Jijon's hand froze awkwardly in empty space.
"You bitch! What the hell are you doing?!"
Gapjil Jijon screamed, eyes bulging.
I hugged all three dumplings—my two plus the one I'd just stolen—and declared,
"I'm eating all three. You don't get any."
Gapjil Jijon kept yapping away from the next cell for a while, but I simply ignored him.
I immediately pressured the Thousand Poison Old Man to reveal the latter twelve stances of the Dark Heaven-Defying Sword.
"Madwoman, you haven't even perfectly mastered the first twelve stances yet. Learning the latter twelve might get confusing and go against proper progression..."
The Thousand Poison Old Man started making excuses again.
"Mister Cheon, didn't you see me executing the stances? After dying ninety-five times last night, I've practically mastered them, haven't I? Are you going to keep talking nonsense? Do you want to make me act like a savage?"
"...Ugh. Fine. We'll do the Heaven-Shattering Divine Power Art in the morning, and I'll teach you in the afternoon. But what do you mean, you died ninety-five times?"
"There's that kind of thing. Why do you need to know?"
After reaching an agreement with the Thousand Poison Old Man, I spent the morning practicing the Heaven-Shattering Divine Power Art's circulation method.
A refreshing coolness and warm heat circulated throughout my body. Those contradictory energies flowed along my muscle fibers. It felt incredibly good, as if they were gently caressing every corner of my body. I could probably do this all day without eating or sleeping.
'But... just what is the Heaven-Shattering Divine Power Art exactly?'
It was the kind of heavenly divine art that would only exist in a world like this pseudo-murim setting. Yet its origin was actually from the 'real world' I came from.
Not a fantasy world where martial arts and magic ran rampant, nor a typical Murim. A world with extremely realistic history. How could such a cheat-like artifact exist there?
The original text was in Classical Chinese, so China had claimed it as their own, but our people also used Chinese characters until King Sejong created Hangul.
A mysterious book whose author and estimated era were unknown. A book that could awaken ordinary people and even turn those who couldn't awaken specific abilities into superhumans.
'Just what the hell is it?'
Even cutting-edge microscopic science couldn't identify its true nature, so how would I know? Let's just believe it's a good book.
Afternoon arrived. Finally, the Thousand Poison Old Man's lecture on the latter twelve stances of the Dark Heaven-Defying Sword began.
And once again, I witnessed it.
Movements that looked like an old neighborhood man's sports dance.
'...Is this really correct?'
The linked techniques of the Dark Heaven-Defying Sword consisted of twelve stances total, from the thirteenth stance Black Shadow Infinite to the twenty-fourth stance Infinite Reverse Flow.
The stance names were: Black Shadow Infinite, Heaven-Defying Continuous Slash, Dark Current Pursuit, Chaotic Dance Flash, Demon Illusion Chain, Soul Lock Strike, Abyss Wave, Bone Reversal Rotation, Spirit Night Calamity, Destruction Wind, Multiple Shadow Assault, and Infinite Reverse Flow.
The Thousand Poison Old Man's explanation began.
"The thirteenth stance that starts the latter half, Black Shadow Infinite, is a wild dance technique where dozens of shadow clones simultaneously launch infinite sword strikes from all directions."
"...This is a combination of the third stance from the first twelve, Illusion Strike, which creates afterimages in darkness to confuse the opponent."
"...And the ninth stance, Dark Night Dance, which uses unpredictable footwork like dancing in the dark of night to toy with the opponent."
"It's a linked technique combining those two stances."
'Illusion Strike and Dark Night Dance?'
Those were the techniques I'd been hit with dozens of times by the black doll over the past two days. I asked the Thousand Poison Old Man how exactly to combine the techniques I was somewhat familiar with.
The Thousand Poison Old Man cleared his throat with a loud "Ahem!" and, as expected, started with excuses.
"My... my body isn't normal, you know that, right? Originally this was... really just..."
He staggered through a demonstration.
"Now, watch carefully."
He slowly waved his arms while making sound effects with his mouth.
"Here, the Black Shadow Infinite goes... Shukang! Shukang!"
'...Shukang?'
"Of course you can't see hundreds of variations since I don't have a sword, but in reality, hundreds of changes are happening from my hand right now! You have to believe me!"
His movements were endlessly slow and feeble, but his mouth was busy. He even pointed at the empty air with his finger and insisted,
"Right here! The change happened right here with a pop! Did you see it just now?"
'...No. What am I supposed to be seeing?'
It was completely unhelpful. If I learned from this, I'd definitely die two hundred times against Pepsi Man tonight.
'...Forget it, just forget it.'
I was the idiot for trying to learn from these incompetent demonic bastards in the first place. I'd just listen to the explanation and make up for it with my body in the dream tonight.