A lot had happened in the outside world over the past two days. Slit-Eyes had sent dozens of messages, so when Lee Taebaek replied, he unleashed a torrent of words.

“The Branch Leader is truly grateful, sir.”

His voice was muffled by the wind, like he was moving somewhere. It felt off. If he was driving on a road, you’d expect horns blaring, but there wasn’t a single ambient noise.

“We’ve teamed up with the Lilith Order and rounded up about ninety percent of the reactionary forces. It was a speed-is-life operation, but we went so overboard it’s like, is this pace even okay?! We’re still on the move with the Lilith Order right now!”

Yahoo!

The echo of his final shout lingered. He promised to call back by evening, and the call ended. He seemed insanely busy at the moment.

Owe Jin Sobang another one.

It was just introducing him to one person.

Well, on the continent, guanxi was a commodity too.

“Gonna have to squeeze him hard next time.”

There was a certain thrill in wringing rewards out of Jin Sobang. The guy had money to burn, and his reactions were pure gold.

Thanks to that, a grand summit between “Robber (True)” and “Psychopath (True)” convened in Lee Taebaek’s mind.

Next up was a flood of texts from the landlord. Mostly photos, which he skimmed through.

“Goeun: Branch 2 Construction Day 1.JPG”

“Goeun: Construction Day 1, 6 Hours In.JPG”

“Goeun: Construction Day 1, 9 Hours In.JPG”

“Goeun: What the… it’s already done(…)”

In short, the Hundred-Fold Sect’s Branch 2 construction was wrapping up in just two days.

The photos were a bare-bones summary; the actual explanations had left his eyes burning.

Beep.

Lee Taebaek closed the window. He fiddled silently with the powered-down device for a moment.

This was the moment when an AI felt essential. He’d splurged, wrung out of Jin Sobang, on a top-tier device, but it lacked a summarization feature.

In the game Raken’s, AIs played a minor role. The UI was already cluttered with personal shops and status windows. Adding a chatty AI would’ve been a distraction.

Still, as an open-world game, purchases were an option. Just absurdly expensive.

Thus, perverts dreaming of girlfriend substitutes—or rather, dedicated sex toys—had to give up. Consensus was that for the price, the Red-Light District was better.

“Crazy bastards everywhere you go.”

A throwaway setting, but who’d have thought it’d have this ripple effect. He imagined everyone having AI, walking arm-in-arm with androids that looked like porcelain dolls…

Fuck, nightmare fuel.

Artificial intelligence was a hard pass, Lee Taebaek.

“Unless it’s indistinguishable from a real person.”

Lee Taebaek shook out his hair and finally peeled himself from the bed. Taki had dyed the sheets brown. The stench must have been lost on him because his nose had adapted—or gone numb.

He stuffed the bed and sheets into the washer, dumped in an entire bottle of detergent, then headed to the shower.

Mid-strip, his gaze drifted to the mirror.

“Oh.”

He knew how pathetic and perverted it was to admire his own body. But this was hard to ignore. It was the first time in his life he’d had a six-pack.

No wonder people obsess over wuxia novels. On Earth, you slaved away at weights for maybe a hint of abs. In the Central Plains, pop an elixir, blink, and boom—ripped.

Of course, qi deviation was a risk. Yet Jianghu folk were addicted to elixirs and energy circulation. No drawn-out grinding like Earth; growth hit instantly and viscerally. Seeing it firsthand made his head nod instinctively.

Shwooooosh.

It felt like his spine was freezing solid.

Steam rose from his skin. The icy water turned lukewarm sweat by the time it swirled down the drain.

Level-ups were on a roll. Seemed like yesterday he was a pathetic Level 1 scrub begging the electric chair for mercy. Now every stat mocked 30 like it was nothing.

Not all good, though.

Down in the lower layers, this level was unbeatable. Even the Gang Alliance’s three execs rushing him? He’d pulp their jaws first. That’s how fast he’d grown.

But.

Where was his turf now? The upper districts. City Government cops zipping in air cars, megacorp private squads patrolling. They poured astronomical cash into fighters—leagues beyond street punks.

Come to think of it, this body was ex-Siesta Watchdog. When he realized his bullshit about Kang Hyeonseong was true… yeah. His balls, which had shriveled like they did in this cold shower, now felt like they were loosening up.

What were the odds. So absurd it felt fated.

“Gonna be awkward running into Siesta.”

He muttered, eyes dropping.

[Skills]

Passive Skill: None

Hm? What the hell. He nearly swallowed tap water mid-question.

How’d I rack up so many?

It wasn’t even the Operator Menu. He’d planned a quick status peek while washing.

“Guess this shower’s dragging on.”

What caught his eye was “Operator Points.” After nagging him forever to stockpile, now they were distributable.

Wonder if this peels the “temporary” tags off Buff and Nerf. With contract-worker nerves before regularization, he tapped “Authority (Temp).”

Damn.

He’d blown tons of points unlocking the Operator Menu. Now each authority upgrade demanded 20 points each? Robber bastard.

Fair enough.

Operator Points weren’t just menu keys. He’d suspected as much; status hints came periodically.

“Might as well invest.”

He sighed, breath fogging. The heat that had warmed his dantian was gone; it was now a pure ice shower. His eyes flicked.

Personally, Nerf edged out in utility. Buff was busted too, but Nerf was overkill. No wonder operators whipped it out constantly.

Buff had balance nitpicks.

Nerf? Flick it on, buy time to scheme.

“Whew.”

The backlog was cleared. Was the bone-chilling water carving out soul-grease? Body and mind felt lighter.

Ugh, freezing. Fingertips and toes cherry-red.

“Frostbite incoming.”

He rushed out, water dripping from his bangs dotting the floor. Downstairs, laundry was done—dried perfectly.

Lee Taebaek sniffed his socks, then picked clothes with tolerable scent.

He naturally brought the Para Blade and Python. He checked the edge, polished the barrel, and slung them at back and hip—their spots.

He couldn’t leave these pals behind, even if it meant forgetting underwear.

Creeeak.

Door open, he basked in sunlight. With a hand as a visor, he gazed up at the clear sky.

“Sun at last.”

Even before energy circulation, it had been gloomy. He inhaled the not-quite-clean air, exhaled.

He went to the garage behind the building.

He pulled off the stifling cover. Red Hare gleamed irresistibly.

The owner stroked the saddle gently. The engine hummed to life.

“Sorry for neglecting you.”

He soothed it. Red Hare purred haughtily, forgiving. No dawdling—he mounted.

He started the ignition. He was starved flat and chilled to shivers. One food craving: obvious.

Red Hare roared. Pavement crumbled under tire fury.

Lee Taebaek put on a mask over his lower face and ducked his head low. Red Hare would get him to his destination in the blink of an eye.

VROOOOM!

It hungered too.

Destination: malatang joint. Bar counter split into groups of three, ten or so folks total.

They ate as if they were strangers to each other. They were all 3rd Battalion or Resistance grunts.

“Back again.”

3rd Battalion Deputy Commander Jang Chwiyen chin-nodded. Lee Taebaek nodded back, spoke.

“Level 11 doable?”

“10’s our max.”

“Undermining your own limits?”

“Damn.”

Heads turned, murmurs rose. At the center of their gazes stood Lee Taebaek.

“Sit already. I’ll spice it prostate-melting hot today.”

Jang Chwiyen folded his paper. He stubbed his cigarette out on it, turning it into kindling. He tossed it under the wok and started cooking.

Goddamn.

Romantic as hell, this uncle vibe.

A thrill before even eating malatang. In this romance-dead era, seeing that sparks excitement.

As Lee Taebaek watched the bar-side fire show, someone lifted the tent flap. All eyes snapped over.

The assaulting stench pierced noses and hijacked brains. The malatang aroma bowed out.

“Uh, uh, uh?”

At the shrill woman’s voice, he turned his head, and the source of the stench sauntered in.

The beggar ignored the stares and beelined for Taebaek. He crinkled his eyes into a smile.

“Impressive gains since last.”

Seo Punggae’s tone was soft.

“Come with me somewhere.”

Lee Taebaek blanked a beat. Then he scraped his chair loudly and stood.

“Been waiting.”

“Let’s go.”

The patrons scooted their chairs and cleared a path. As they were about to leave, Lee Taebaek said without turning.

“Before the malatang cools.”

Proprietor Jang Chwiyen eyed his back, grinned heroically.