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Translator: Vine
Chapter Title: If You Play, You Win (1)
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Sometimes, in creative works, it's necessary to intentionally disregard historical accuracy.
I felt this keenly, especially when playing a medieval fantasy game called 'Com Kingdom.'
There were even groans of "Why would they bother authenticating *this*?"
Of course, compared to games that crossed the line, like Black Samurai, it was a godsend.
"Ugh, damn it..."
Excessive historical accuracy generally leads to inconvenience for the user.
Like the intense muscle pain that assaults you the moment you wake up in the morning.
Aren't Murim practitioners supposed to train for 22 hours, sleep for 2, and then a quick round of qi cultivation restores them to full condition?
From that perspective, it almost seems like they *aren't* adhering to historical accuracy, in a way...
I had more complaints about the historical accuracy, too.
"Kyau!"
"No walkies today."
Baekhwahakgwan is vast.
Master Chicken's Seogajang was at the eastern end of Baekhwahakgwan.
And Master Sword's tutoring spot, Geomrimwon, was at the western end of Baekhwahakgwan.
If this were the original 'Raising a Murim Practitioner' game,
I could roam freely within the academy with a single click of the mouse.
But.
I was given the unfortunate fate of having to traverse that long distance on my own two feet...
I should have paid more attention when installing mods and looked for something like 'School Bus in Murim.'
Walking through the campus—no, the academy—with the wolf-dog in my arms,
My old university nightmares started to resurface.
Given that my alma mater was built on a mountain,
Moving between lecture halls was a continuous cycle of climbing and descending.
One senior, expressing his frustration at such absurdity,
Earned the nickname 'The Man of Light Speed' by performing the extraordinary feat of riding a kickboard down a steep slope to take an exam at the faculty building near the very top.
It was a distant memory.
* * *
The early days of the semester flew by.
My weekends were confiscated.
"What? Go home? I've already contacted the Lord of the Manor, so there's no need. Do you really feel like sleeping with those muscles?"
Master Chicken, obsessed with external martial arts training, confined me to Seogajang the moment the weekend arrived, feeding me nothing but chicken breast three times a day and making me exercise.
Even Gambling Demon and Beggar Bastard, whom I had trusted as loyal friends,
"Haha. It's truly regrettable, but I have plans this weekend."
"Hmm, I fully understand Brother Geum's consideration, but unfortunately, the Beggars' Alliance has an event."
Ignored my tears and left the dormitory to enjoy a festive and joyful weekend.
Those scoundrels.
And finally, the day of reckoning arrived.
"You lowly commoner. Are you ready to kneel and beg?"
"Huhu. Moyong Dao-ui's defeats are narrowing down to within five fingers now..."
"What's with that tone?"
Oh, here we go again.
The grand opening.
After submitting the copy of the *Dao De Jing* that I'd painstakingly transcribed, shedding tears of blood all night,
We moved together to the Simsangnongeomjang, the Simryeongak.
It seemed word had spread, or perhaps it was even being broadcast on the 'gallery' (online forum), because almost half the students flocked after us.
It's a bit burdensome.
Still.
[Miss Naram: Good luck, Young Master!]
*Phew.*
*Pheeewww...!*
How long has it been since a girl cheered me on?
I don't even know if it's ever happened!
[Master Chicken, 10-Time Convict: If you lose, training x3 ^^]
Ugh!
That's not encouragement!
I couldn't bring myself to say that out loud.
Instead, I vented my frustration by pressing the downvote button hard on Master Chicken's post in the gallery.
After arriving at Simryeongak,
As almost a hundred people streamed in simultaneously, all eyes turned our way.
A spectacular sight: the spectators' stands filled in an instant!
"Alright, alright! This isn't a match you see every day! A showdown between Geum Sihyeon, the supernova of the Man-Geum Trading Post, and Moyong Wicheon, the genius of the Moyong Family! Place your bets!"
That crazy bastard is running a gambling den here too.
When our eyes met, Moyongtaek winked.
Perhaps because he was a beast, I could read his mind using the Heavenly Soul-Guiding Art.
—*If you lose, I'll kill you.*
I lightly raised my middle finger, fulfilling his expectations.
Before putting on the headgear,
Whether by chance or fate,
I looked into Ruri's eyes, which peeked out just slightly from among the crowd.
Her expression was still hard to read, but
Her eyes twinkled slightly, seeming to be filled with curiosity.
Should I sell Ruri the leftover equipment?
The Little Sect Leader of the Demonic Cult must have a lot of money, right?
Thinking that,
"Domain Expansion. Loser Scumbag."
I whispered just loud enough for Moyong Wicheon, who was standing directly opposite me, to hear.
His brow twitched; looks like I really got under his skin.
Still a friend with shallow cultivation, it seems.
* * *
*Crrunch!*
Though Moyong Wicheon momentarily lost control of his emotions at Geum Sihyeon's whisper,
"You lowly bastard."
As he uttered the phrase that was practically his signature move,
He felt his emotions slowly calm down.
Last time.
Right.
It was an unexpected blow.
A coincidence.
An inexplicable aberration.
If not for his cowardly act of hiding his true skill and shamelessly accepting three seconds of forbearance, Geum Sihyeon would have been the one rolling on the floor that day.
Moyong Wicheon thought this as he entered the friendly match.
Soon after.
"Puhaha, puhahaha...!"
Of course.
How could a man who relied only on cowardly tricks survive properly in the cutthroat world of Murim?
[Man-Geum Trading Post: Authentic Mahjong Tiles, Check Us Out!]
[Free Match: 0 wins, 0 losses, 0 draws (-)]
[Peak Match: 36 wins, 0 losses, 36 draws (0%)]
[Harmony Match: 0 wins, 0 losses, 0 draws (-)]
36 matches, 36 losses.
Is that a person, or a wooden dummy?
From the looks of it, he must have managed to acquire a Simsangnongeom device by leveraging his family's influence.
But a commoner is, in the end, a commoner.
He seemed to be paying dearly for underestimating the Simsangnongeom world, which was akin to a dragon's den or a tiger's lair.
And what was with his Simsangnongeom nickname?
It was a vulgar and materialistic nickname, one that showed no trace of a martial artist's pride.
Indeed.
Only a name like 'Sky-Shattering Sword Demon,' like his own, truly embodied style, chivalry, and romance.
*Clang!*
In the Simsangnongeom match, which began with a resounding gong,
Moyong Wicheon felt that his judgment was not mistaken.
"Is that all you've got?"
He knew it wouldn't be heard, but
Strangely, feeling a slight, almost imperceptible sense of disappointment, he muttered to himself and casually parried Geum Sihyeon's sword.
Of course, in terms of skill level,
...it was quite excellent.
The completion of his techniques was high.
The transitions between techniques were also clean.
At first, he had even found himself involuntarily letting out a gasp of admiration.
But.
His sword was precise, yet.
It was far too straightforward.
In fact, it felt bizarre.
In terms of technique proficiency alone,
It was almost as if he was in a realm higher than his own, but.
How could someone who understood techniques so deeply
Fail to wield a single variation properly, or even respond to one?
It was as if.
He was a machine executing precisely crafted martial arts.
Of course, if he had 36 losses, that couldn't be true.
But he could easily guess why he had never won a single match.
Thinking that, Moyong Wicheon casually plunged his sword into Geum Sihyeon's chest.
* * *
"Ha, damn it, he's pretty good..."
I have to admit what's true.
Although his nickname was, well, so cringe-worthy it felt like it had been steeped in chuunibyou,
At least Moyong Wicheon seemed quite serious about martial arts.
With all due respect to my Master Sword... to Sister Seol,
He had exceptional talent.
He seemed to have put in considerable effort.
And as a man supported by a prestigious family,
I even thought that in about two or three years, Moyong Wicheon would probably surpass Sister Seol in swordsmanship.
"Guh...!"
Green Tea Powder Master, just who exactly are you?
Twin swords are really strong, huh?
The phrase 'adept in both offense and defense' couldn't fit him more perfectly.
When his right-hand sword aimed for my throat, his left-hand sword supported it.
No matter how I tried to parry, his left-hand sword would naturally slide along my blade towards my neck, while his right-hand sword simultaneously thrust towards my heart.
His movements were quite flashy and intricate, enough to tangle his hands and arms, but
Perhaps because it was within the Simsangnongeom, or perhaps he had already reached a state of mastery,
His left and right swords flowed naturally without obstructing each other's paths, and I was helplessly pushed back.
Soon, cuts appeared here and there on my body.
There was no pain, but my movements slowly became sluggish, as if reflecting the penalty.
What used to be easily dodged sword attacks now required me to move with all my might to barely avoid them.
Indeed.
Is this the difference in fundamental skill?
But...
If you play a game,
You must win.
Towards my exposed chest,
Moyong Wicheon's sword thrust forward cunningly, like a snake.
I can't avoid it.
I don't think I can avoid it.
By conventional means, it seemed impossible to avoid.
Honestly, I don't think I can win using standard methods, so
I have no choice but to take a gamble here.
...To whisper "Loser Scumbag" and then lose?
Honestly, I'd die of humiliation.
* * *
"Ruriling, are you bored?"
Myonarang felt a slight pang of guilt as she watched Cheon Ruri, who was constantly fiddling with her smartphone with a bored expression.
"Squeak, squeak!"
Darami the squirrel scampered up Ruri's shoulder and rubbed against her soft cheek, but
"...It tickles."
Her sullen expression didn't change.
Myonarang tilted her head, wondering if it was because she was displeased with Young Master Geum's defeat.
Even though Ruriling usually put up an iron wall against most people,
The ones she was most comfortable with were herself and Young Master Geum.
She didn't know why.
Well, perhaps it was because Young Master Geum seemed like a good person.
Sighing, Myonarang looked up at the screen.
Seeing Young Master Geum's movements, which clearly showed he was on the verge of defeat,
Myonarang was about to give up, thinking, *This is too difficult*, when
*Thud—*
Cheon Ruri's smartphone fell from her hand.
And then,
"...Blood Wolf Sword Art...?"
For what Myonarang could recall as the first time,
Cheon Ruri spoke, her voice tinged with emotion.