Terraforming - Footsteps in the Buzz
District 11 had grown unusually rowdy lately. And for good reason. The first traces of civilization in this world had been discovered there.
The place I'd dubbed the Temple of Time was found by me, and with testimonies from Chris and Mahal added in, it was confirmed as undeniable fact.
Hunting down the named Baekwonhu Victor after seven years would have been big news on its own. Even bigger was the fact that a trainee had slain it, no matter how gravely wounded the beast had been. But...
No topic burns hotter than the discovery of a temple.
I ended up known not by flashy nicknames like "Baekwonhu Slayer" or "Named Killer," but as the first discoverer of the temple. Truth be told, I was secretly relieved they hadn't slapped some cringeworthy title on me.
The 11th Sector Combat Lodge was swarming with people. Most weren't combatants—they looked like scholars. They were setting up a base camp at the temple, living there day and night, investigating something... but they didn't seem to be getting anywhere.
No surprise. Even if it was seven years ago, I'd already scoured the place thoroughly.
Screeech... thud.
"Ugh... still can't get used to it."
Ri Shaolin grimaced at the sight of me entering the room. It was a reaction to my ridiculously handsome face. Not that she genuinely disliked it—my looks were beyond polarizing. She just had this instinctive aversion to me.
I was used to it by now. She'd been like this for days.
"Unlike you trainees, I'm a full Combatant. You sure it's okay to talk to me like that?"
"..."
"At least until you graduate from training camp, I'm your superior."
"...Who said they didn't know?"
"Looked like you didn't."
"..."
I chuckled softly and looked down at her. Ri Shaolin averted her eyes, looking disgruntled.
One easy win today. I turned to the other three watching our spat with interest.
"...I'm telling Instructor Chris you're cheating on her?"
"Hey!! Blanc, you nuts?! Why drag me into this with him...?!!"
A sharp voice rang through the lodge. Ri Shaolin was freaking out over Blanc's comment.
My relationship with Chris was common knowledge in District 11 now—no one was in the dark. The guys in training camp looked at me with respect. Not for seducing the instructor, but for embracing a woman with her... very unique personality. They were impressed by my broad strike zone.
Well... she still puts on the act now and then.
Separate from dating me, Chris kept up her crazy persona. Not as often as before—just once a week or so. She was dialing it back because training was nearing its end.
If her act got exposed, it might cause a stir, but nothing the trainees would rebel over. Team drills and practicals weren't as grueling as the first month's basic fitness.
The only change was that Brack used to rein her in—now I did.
"Can a person change this much in two months?"
"In a world where fists shatter rocks? Sure."
"Fair point. Expecting normalcy here is weird anyway."
"Hey... mind giving your take on my dilemma? Got time?"
"My take?"
I nodded lightly at Lee Kangin's question, as if it wasn't a big deal.
The body of the named Baekwonhu Victor had been recovered. Plus, we'd uncovered traces of civilization. I'd claimed several rewards from Central Command for that.
First was currency usable inside the Shelter. It came as unfamiliar bills. In a place where paper was scarce, counterfeiting was impossible—made sense as money. My inventory made storing any form easy, so no complaints.
Second was provisional Combatant status, lasting until training graduation. They'd verified my power again before granting it officially. Pointless since I'd be a full Combatant in a month anyway. But crushing Ri Shaolin's attitude with authority? Fun enough.
The last reward I'd demanded myself from Central Command...
"Once you finish training and become a full Combatant, which district do you think is best to transfer to?"
"...That's what you wanted my opinion on?"
The right to choose my district upon official assignment. I'd negotiated two such picks from Central Command.
Their usual distribution aimed for balance, but no way I'd get my preferred spot without leverage. I needed this.
"Yeah. Twelve districts total. No info on any but 11, so it's all luck of the draw anyway."
"True."
"Just curious about your thoughts."
I asked casually, like it was no deep matter. No room for suspicion.
"Hmm..."
Lee Kangin pondered, face slightly tense. A bit long for such a light question.
Finally, he spoke.
"...11's probably best? We've got connections after a month here."
"Yeah? Guess I'll go with that. Would be nice if you got assigned here too."
"Huh? Oh... yeah, that'd be great, but odds are low..."
"1/12 ain't bad. Plenty to hope for."
"Haha. Yeah, really would."
Lee Kangin looked a touch frustrated.
Boiling it down: So... according to the regressor's info, the next 'episode' unfolds in District 11?
He wasn't the type to sideline a useful friend like me out of "don't wanna drag you into danger." He'd drag me in forcibly to borrow my skills. He didn't want to die twice either.
District 11... At this rate, he won't get assigned there.
The original story never specified his pre-regression district. But not 11—the Time Orb pickup and Temple of Time were far apart.
His frustration? Likely missing out on District 11's "event."
Normally, his odds were slim. Unless he had my two picks...
Another incident might pop during practicals... but I'll gauge from his behavior.
Lee Kangin was surprisingly readable. I'd spot signs before anything blew up.
Thoughts sorted, I told him:
"Anyway... gotta head out for a bit."
"Your girlfriend?"
"Haha, maybe? Might be late."
"...You two are intense."
"Early romance, right? See ya."
Thud thud.
Screeech... thud!
I headed to my handler at the 11th Sector Combat Lodge. To lock in our district assignments.
*
A small, warm hand wriggled in my palm. Its owner sat right beside me.
After seeing my handler, I hadn't returned to the lodge. I'd gone straight to Chris's room. Things to ask.
She was explaining animatedly—how my seven-year-ago feats were viewed.
"So I'm remembered as a hero?"
"Yeah. But it's seven years back, so hardly anyone remembers. No one's super grateful to you anymore. Just in the records."
"Wasn't doing it for their thanks anyway. Fine by me."
"...Chanyoung's too kind, as always."
"Nah."
Grin.
I smiled at her. No Shelter rewards, but the System had hooked me up plenty. If it was just records, their feelings wouldn't run deep. At best, like gratitude for a historical figure.
No need to broadcast the time travel then. Nothing more to squeeze from the Shelter.
At most, rare monster leather armor or a sword... I already had Baekwonhu leather, and fists were my weapon—blades meant little.
Already wasting time with scholars poking at my changed face...
More hassle from them? No thanks. Just an artifact's superficial tweak had them grilling me. Actual time travel? Nightmare.
Horrifying...
Better to grind training, boost a stat. Or hold hands with Chris like this.
Fiddle fiddle...
"Hey... were Chanyoung's hands always this big?"
"Huh?"
"Seven years ago, they felt smaller... Hm, my imagination? Forget it!"
"Short attention span."
Snort.
Her question caught me off-guard. Face was perfected ages ago: skin texture, eye size, nose bridge, cheekbones, jaw, tone, brow thickness, forehead width, ear shape. Full overhaul.
Body still had issues beyond face and height: maple-stick hands that didn't thrill women, uneven teeth, twisted feet.
Using accumulating Karma, I'd fixed them bit by bit. Fingers now slender and elegant—fit for "jade-like hands." Teeth straight and gleaming white. Feet pedicure-model perfect.
I'd surpassed peak "Baek Hamin" body long ago. Stroll Myeongdong now? Model cards galore—seven-plus easy.
Skin under clothes next—glow like my face. Pale it up a bit, height to 185cm.
Beyond that? Taste territory. Some love sharp panther looks, others gentle giant-dog vibes. Subjective.
Soon, a top-three perfect Korean physique.
"...You should count your blessings, Chris."
"Huh?"
"You're pretty."
"Wha? Oh... th-thanks..."
Squirm squirm.
Chris fiddled with my hand, quietly delighted. Face hidden, but flushed for sure.
Cool as ice acting for trainees, but with me? Pure, unfiltered. Laughed when happy, blushed when shy.
Knowing only I saw this honest side? Pure satisfaction.
"Your instructor gig ties to me, right? When you spilling?"
"Th-that's... later!! Much later!!"
"Said that last time."
"..."
"Fine. Tell me later."
Squeeze.
Strike out on her secret again today. Fair—I had my untold bits too. No grilling.
Last, a light hug. Then back to my room.