Chapter 63 True Education TV Gets a Taste of Its Own Medicine (2)
Chapter 63 True Education TV Gets a Taste of Its Own Medicine (2)
Moon-sik, the owner of True Education TV and a YouTuber, was thirsty for controversy like most cyber wreckers.
And for good reason—his views had plummeted recently, and donations were drying up. If he didn't come up with new content soon, he'd have to sell the imported car he'd impulsively bought, given how tight money was getting.
That's when his eyes landed on the recent terrorist attack in the country and the public execution of the pseudo-religious cult leader behind it.
Moon-sik couldn't care less about the victims of the cult's terrorism, but one thing was clear: people absolutely despised this so-called Cheonmyeong Sect.
So he decided to give them a dose of "true education" and reached out to some fellow YouTubers he knew for info about the cult.
The half-thug types warned him, "Those bastards are seriously dangerous—don't mess with them," but Moon-sik brushed it off.
He laughed at them, calling them cowards, before hanging up.
"Fucking idiots. What's so scary about some cultist bitches?"
If no one else was willing to touch them, that just meant he'd get even more views and donations from the pig-like viewers, right?
With that in mind, Moon-sik drove straight to where the cult leader's funeral was being held.
He went live with the title "Giving the Cheonmyeong Cult a Dose of True Education"—and even after hours of just driving, his viewer count had already surpassed 3,000.
In his three years of YouTube, he'd never seen numbers like this.
The thought of striking it big—and using that money to finally afford a full-course meal with that woman he'd been eyeing—made his dick twitch.
And luck was on his side—even the police cars that had been parked conspicuously outside earlier were now gone, inflating his arrogance even further.
So when one of his thug acquaintances—a guy rumored to be particularly brutal—called him directly, Moon-sik ignored it.
To avoid being caught on CCTV, he slipped in through the back door of the funeral hall—and immediately locked eyes with a woman.
A stunningly beautiful woman.
She had been digging into the ground for some reason, but when she noticed him barging in, she looked up in surprise.
Her startled expression, the way her eyes darted around in panic—it was all breathtakingly gorgeous.
Moon-sik had slept with countless prostitutes, but he'd never even spoken to a woman like this. His heart raced like a teenager's.
But the moment the chat informed him that "she's a cultist too, the PR manager," his attitude flipped.
Normally, being rough with a civilian woman would earn him backlash from his pig-like viewers—but since she was part of the cult everyone in the country hated, Moon-sik seized the opportunity.
Under the guise of "educating" her, he grabbed her forearm, shoved the camera in her face, and subtly tried to slide his grip toward her chest—
—until a man stepped through the door.
Even as a fellow man, Moon-sik couldn't help but think, "Holy shit, he's handsome."
The chat exploded over the sudden appearance of this "god-tier hottie."
Moon-sik was supposed to be the star of his own channel, the protagonist his pig viewers worshipped—but this guy had stolen all their attention in an instant.
His stomach twisted with resentment.
So he immediately shifted his "education" target from the woman to the man.
He didn't know their relationship, but the way her eyes lit up when the man appeared made him seethe with jealousy. They've definitely fucked.
But what if he beat the shit out of her boyfriend right in front of her?
If he provoked him first, then used "self-defense" as an excuse to turn that pretty face into a bloody mess, wouldn't she realize that a man's fighting skills matter more than his looks?
He wanted her to look up to him instead.
And the chat—full of jealous men just like him—would shower him with donations.
With that in mind, Moon-sik picked a fight.
"I don't like your face."
"Why the hell are you looking at me like that?"
He shoved the man's shoulder hard—several times.
...Was that a mistake?
Despite being over 190 cm tall and weighing more than 120 kg, his full-force shoves didn't even make the guy budge.
Annoyed by the chat mocking him for being "all show, no muscle," Moon-sik escalated to outright insults.
...That was definitely a mistake.
The man didn't flinch at his threats, and Moon-sik started sensing something was off—but he'd already trespassed. Backing down now was unthinkable.
If he did, he'd be mocked on YouTube for a year—maybe even until he quit. So he got even more aggressive.
He swung a punch.
Well, not really. He pretended to, pulling his arm back—
—but accidentally elbowed the woman in the jaw when she tried to intervene.
He hadn't meant to.
It was an accident.
No—the real mistake was coming here in the first place, targeting the Cheonmyeong Sect when even other "education" YouTubers avoided them.
He should've just bullied some weakling like usual for today's content—
—was his last thought before his head slammed into the wall.
Then came the sound of rushing wind.
His 120 kg body was effortlessly tossed into the air.
The sheer difference in strength crushed any thought of resistance. Trembling, he could only stare up at the handsome man looming over him.
Moon-sik, who always bragged about "educating" criminals in place of the useless police, desperately checked his chat, hoping someone had called the cops.
But—
"Damn... the way he just coldly wrecks him is so cool."
"LMAO this wrecker bastard met his match today."
"Life's unfair. If a guy this handsome can fight too, what's left for Moon-sik?"
"Is Moon-sik losing?"
"'Lose'? He's getting annihilated."
"I've seen that guy somewhere... Pretty sure he's the main manager at ㄱㅊㅅㄱ ㄱㄹㄹ—"
"Whoa whoa, don't name-drop that channel here!"
Not just random viewers—even his loyal subscribers, marked by their custom emojis, weren't talking about him anymore.
All attention was on the man now stepping on his throat.
"Ghk—! Kkh—! Ugh—!"
Moon-sik cried.
From the pain of being grabbed by the neck and thrown face-first into a wall.
From the shame of getting humiliated in front of the woman he'd fallen for at first sight.
And from envy—because this scene-stealing bastard had stolen his viewers too.
"LMAO why's he crying??"
"Pathetic wrecker getting wrecked by a demon. What a title."
"Moon-sik, move your ugly face. Film the guy properly. Even I'm impressed, and I'm straight."
"Same. Think I just turned gay."
"Hnng—!"
Disgusted by the chat's mockery, Moon-sik impulsively ended the stream.
The trickle of donations was tempting, but letting his viewers watch him get destroyed any longer would hurt him more.
But maybe that was the mistake.
With the stream off, the terrifying realization hit him—what's this guy going to do to me now?
"Stop! Stop it, son! Why are you so angry?!"
The woman hugged the man from behind.
They looked perfect together—but Moon-sik was baffled. They seemed around the same age, so why was she calling him "son"?
Still puzzling over it, he closed his eyes.
Not because he'd passed out—he was just pretending, afraid of getting hit again.
The winter wind bit into his torn face as the perfect couple whispered things he couldn't hear before disappearing.
Left alone, Moon-sik kept up the act, trembling in fear the man would return—until he finally peeked.
They were gone.
Suddenly, his fear turned to rage.
Humiliation outweighed the pain now. He struggled to get up, planning to call the police, sue for damages, and get revenge—
CRACK—!
A woman—not the one from before, but a cold, ruthless beauty—smashed his phone under her heel before he even noticed her approach.
"You bitch, what the f—"
He shut his mouth.
She stood before him, arms crossed, gazing down at him with icy disdain.
And behind her, men in suits approached, bowing in submission.
Only then did Moon-sik understand why his thug friends had warned him.
"Handle it. And Manager Park—"
"Yes, Holy Seat!"
"When we return to the cult, cut off three fingers from the left hand of the guard in charge and place them on my desk."
"Yes, Holy Seat!"
"Ah, and don't 'forget' to include yours too."
"...Huh? ...Yes, Holy Seat!"
"Your answer?"
"Yes, Holy Seat!"
The short exchange made the future painfully clear.
The men, their eyes glazed like they were drugged, moved toward Moon-sik.
"W-What... Hey, police! Police! This is illegal! What are you—?!"
Seo A-ra, Eun-woo's third mother, ignored Moon-sik's screams as she watched her son walk away.
Her arms were crossed, but her grip on her own forearm was tight enough to draw blood.
A frosty gloom settled over her eyes, as if winter itself had seeped into her gaze.