Chapter 1: Half Penny (1)

There exists a game called Gangho Jangpaerok.

Although pixelated, it was a highly acclaimed martial arts game with meticulous quality, dozens of branching storylines, and rich lore.

With randomly generated NPCs alongside established ones for each sect, players were given a large degree of freedom. They could roam the world, interacting with these characters, sometimes causing conflict, and sometimes forging alliances.

‘Ah, finally beat it.’

With this, Lee Do finished his 20th playthrough.

He became a swordsman, ultimately defeating the Demonic Cult and bringing peace and stability to the world. As if to prove it, the phrase “Benefactor of All Under Heaven” appeared on the ending credits.

Excluding his clueless first playthrough, he’d seen the same ending nineteen times, but what did it matter?

Martial arts was a genre that culminated in romanticism. Even if it was just a game world, there were things he wanted to protect, things that were beautiful to behold.

‘Let’s go straight to the next playthrough.’

After briefly basking in the afterglow of the completed story, Lee Do skipped the credits and opened the character creation screen.

Bonus points had accumulated from his previous playthrough. Around 500 in total.

That was precisely why he could keep playing through the game. Bonus points.

These were additional stat boosts he could allocate to a new character based on his previous game data.

Originally, completing all the achievements would have earned him nearly 1,000 bonus points. However, since some of the achievements involved storylines related to the evil sects and the Demonic Cult, he hadn’t bothered with those.

‘The appearances are all the same anyway, so pass.’

It was a pixel game after all. Meaning there wasn’t much to see on the screen. Black hair, a moderately built physique, fair skin, and an appearance in his early twenties. With just those settings, wouldn’t that automatically make him a peerless beauty and a hero of the Jianghu?

‘Then, the stats…’

Gangho Jangpaerok focused on other character-building elements instead of appearance.

Lee Do’s mouse flitted across the screen.

Perks. Elements that determined the protagonist’s innate disposition and constitution.

He maxed out the initial stats like agility and strength, and also maximized utility stats like light-foot skill and hemostasis. Perks that granted resistance to poison, bleeding, and internal injuries were also maxed out. That alone consumed 300 points. Around 200 remained.

Of course, even with this maximized investment, the initial stats were absolutely weak compared to the absolute masters of the Jianghu.

Instead, the most crucial aspect of Gangho Jangpaerok was fortuitous encounters. Joining a sect, encountering a hidden master, things like that.

‘The unique perks are meant to utilize that, but…’

For example, [Hidden Moon, Latent Crane], a perk exclusive to the Tang Clan, or [Chasing Plum, Dancing Shadow], a perk exclusive to the Plum Blossom Sword Technique. These perks offered little benefit initially but revealed their true value later.

“Hmm.”

Lee Do scrolled down and added just one perk.

[Thousand Refinements, Worldly Experience, Reasoned Skill]: – Through thousands of refinements and worldly experiences, one probes the principles of the universe, finally perfecting one’s skills. Grants a significant disadvantage in martial arts training but confers a substantial advantage in gaining unique personal insights.

He had noticed during his previous playthroughs, where he deliberately played with limitations for a challenging experience, that true chivalry wasn’t about a completed character. The teachings of the sects and the masters were merely a launching pad. He felt that paving the way oneself from the very beginning was the truest path to a heroic narrative.

He then moved to the final stage of character creation.

He had to choose his starting weapon.

About 100 bonus points remained. Not a small amount, but not a large one either. The weapon that offered the greatest efficiency early on with this amount was, as always, only one.

‘…It’s not very stylish, though.’

A staff.

Specifically, the non-lethal weapon often used by monks. Fortuitous encounters related to staff techniques were concentrated within the Shaolin Temple. Becoming an outer disciple offered little merit, but joining the temple meant he would inevitably be dependent on those encounters. With his current perk, perhaps this weapon was the most suitable.

The only problem was that it wasn’t very stylish.

After seriously agonizing over his starting weapon, he shook his head and pressed the start button.

‘Whatever. I’ll just hunt bandits in the Green Forest and boost my experience.’

He poured 70 points into the staff and put the remaining 30 into his fist technique.

Thus, the character was created.

His nickname was Daehyup. He’d been called “Great Daehyup” countless times by the NPCs, but it was the nickname he had used since his first playthrough.

With the message “Generating the Middle Kingdom…” appearing on the screen, the randomly generated NPCs and the world were created. 50%, 60%, 77%. 99%, then 100%…

“…Ugh.”

101%. At 101%, Lee Do lost consciousness. Or rather, Great Daehyup did.

And the place he woke up in was, inexplicably, cyberpunk.

Not the Jianghu.

To reiterate, it was cyberpunk. Inexplicably so.

Cyberpunk.

Maximal Engineering had brought progress and prosperity to humanity. But as is always the case with progress, there was a counter-reaction, a price to pay. The biggest drawback of Maximal Engineering wasn’t radiation or the devastation of nature, but rather, human depravity.

Human rights groups were still trying to overthrow and push back against Maximal Engineering. But what did it matter what they yammered about? Even if a dog barks, the train keeps running. No, the Hyperloop politely escorts its customers to their destinations.

The power of corporations pursuing only self-interest grew day by day, and law and philosophy became ambiguous. In the name of human progress and ideals, or so they claimed, the way humanity lived had degraded and decayed. It had devolved into nothing more than a childish power struggle.

Corporations rivaled nations, engaging in covert conflicts with each other, and among them, self-proclaimed warriors, monsters of Maximal Engineering, ran rampant.

“An ill omen has befallen the world.”

Those words, uttered like a lament, were not unreasonable.

Lee Do took a sip of his drink, continuing to listen intently to the conversation at the next table.

“Humanity’s gone. Those bastards.”

The 800-credit cheap whiskey tasted only bitter, like cigarettes. Unfortunately, however, it didn’t provide the same mental comfort as cigarettes. Because his meridians were naturally strong, his constitution barely registered alcohol.

That was why, despite downing several drinks, his mind remained as clear as the sky after three months of rain.

“Isn’t that right, young man?”

Lee Do lit a cigarette and nodded.

Humanity.

What exactly was humanity? It was a topic he had pondered extensively back on Earth. Humanity. He had been shot in the stomach three days after arriving in this world. Even after barely recovering, he almost died again two days later, crawling on the ground like a worm.

Sector 11-A.

This was that kind of place.

The sounds of traffic flooded in from outside. More accurately, it came from the roads and elevated railways that spread like spiderwebs above the streets. And it wasn’t just flooding; it was overflowing to the point of splitting his eardrums.

Flashing red holograms, like those of a red-light district, emitted the scent of pleasure, and the stench of cheap alcohol permeated everything. People, augmented with the Maximal Engineering of machines and cybernetics, swaggered through the streets with their hands shoved into their pockets.

To be precise, this was cyberpunk. Not the Jianghu. The cyberpunk, devoid of fluttering plum blossoms and moonlight, filled only with holograms and blue dust.

And so, he would often ponder.

Even in this trash heap of a world, would humanity here be any different from humanity back on Earth? He questioned whether analog cigarettes, electronic cigarettes, or even cyber-cigarettes differed in their fundamental nature.

He exhaled smoke.

He took another drag of his cigarette and breathed out the smoke.

“So, young man, what’s that stick on your back? Do young people these days use things like that to poke women’s holes?”

A question that wasn’t even remotely original.

Lee Do stood up.

His target had just entered the pub. A black-skinned bald man and a group of about four. Their hands and arms were covered in old, cheap silver cybernetics, not even covered with synthetic skin, and a snake tattoo was etched above their wrists.

Scrawled like graffiti to make it unrecognizable.

“Get me some booze, something hotter than your sputtering mother’s engine.”

It meant they were a low-class gang.

“Hey.”

It was Lee Do who approached them.

He flicked an analog credit coin at their eyes.

“Ouch!
! What the—”

The moment the bald man flinched in surprise, Lee Do pulled his staff from the rack and whacked him on the head. With a cracking sound, the room froze.

“What are you looking at?”

He swung the staff downward, tripping two of the onlookers. They fell in a comical heap. Crash! Immediately, he struck them on the temple with his staff, knocking them unconscious as efficiently as possible.

He chewed on his cigarette. Time for the smoke to spread.

One of them frantically tried to draw a gun. Lee Do jabbed him in the stomach with the end of his staff, then swiftly brought it up and struck him under the chin. Whack! He brought it down. He did the same to the remaining one on the other side, using the opposite end of the staff.

“Ugh!”

“…Gurk.”

They both collapsed as if they had fainted simultaneously.

Repositioning his cigarette, Lee Do stepped on the bald man’s neck. The sudden commotion was quelled just as quickly as it had started.

“…Kuh, guh…”

In the chilling silence that now filled the pub, he looked down at the man.

“Wh-who… Who are you?”

“Me? I’m someone who takes care of unpleasant business for others.”

“What…?”

“In other words, a mercenary.”

Lee Do tapped off the ash.

“A swordsman, you.”

Contemplations on humanity. The absence, the lack of humanity, the mechanical things that replaced it, and the countless byproducts that resulted.

He still didn’t quite understand it. What did it matter if he understood the distinctions between analog cigarettes, electronic cigarettes, and cyber-cigarettes? In this world, where only marketability mattered, as long as it tasted good, that was all that mattered.

But even in this tiresome world, there was one thing he was certain of.

Chivalry. Righteousness.

He had, at some point, become a martial artist who smoked cigarettes. Great Daehyup. In other words, Lee Do.

He smiled bitterly and picked up his staff.

‘It really isn’t very stylish.’