Chapter 72: Divine Doctor? Divine Loyalty! (6)

A lot had happened in the outside world over the past two days. Slit-Eyes had sent dozens of messages, so when I 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 half 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!」

Yat-ho!

The echo of his final shout lingered. He promised to call back by evening, and the call ended. He seemed insanely busy for 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 were a flood of texts from the landlord. Mostly photos, which I 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 my 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 Laykuns, 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 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. Everyone strutting around arm-in-arm with porcelain-doll androids…

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’ve faded from adaptation—or numbness—in his nose.

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. First time in his life with 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? Upper districts. City gov 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 Hound. When he realized his bullshit about Kang Hyeonseong was true… yeah. Balls shriveled like in this cold shower, now loosening up.

What were the odds. So absurd it felt fated.

“Gonna be awkward running into Siesta.”

He muttered, eyes dropping.

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

‘How’d I rack up so many?’

Not 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.

Blew tons of points unlocking the Operator Menu. Now each authority upgrade demanded 20? 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. Dantian-warmed heat gone; pure ice shower now. 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.”

Backlog 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, dripping bangs dotting the floor. Downstairs, laundry was done—dried perfectly.

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

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

Can’t leave these pals behind, even if forgetting underwear.

Creeeak.

Door open, he basked in sunlight. Hand-visor up, gazing at clear skies.

“Sun at last.”

Even pre-circulation, it’d been gloomy. He inhaled the not-quite-clean air, exhaled.

To the garage behind.

Pulled off the stifling cover. Red Hare gleamed irresistibly.

Owner stroked the saddle gently. Engine hummed to life.

“Sorry for neglecting you.”

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

Ignition. Starved flat, chilled to shivers. One food craving: obvious.

Red Hare roared. Pavement crumbled under tire fury.

Lee Taebaek masked lower face, head low. Blink-of-an-eye to destination.

VROOOOM!

It hungered too.

Destination: malatang joint. Bar counter split into groups of three, eight-ish folks total.

Strangers to each other, eating. All 3rd Battalion or Resistance grunts.

“Back again.”

3rd Battalion Deputy 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. Center: Lee Taebaek.

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

Jang Chwiyen folded his paper. Stubbed cig on it—kindling. Tossed under wok, fired up.

Goddamn.

Romantic as hell, this uncle vibe.

Pre-malatang thrill. Romance-dead era, this sparks excitement.

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

Assaulting stench pierced noses, hijacked brains. Malatang aroma bowed out.

“Wh-what?!”

Shrill woman’s voice—source of funk sauntered in.

Beggar ignored stares, beelined Taebaek. Crinkled smile.

“Impressive gains since last.”

Seo Punggae’s tone soft.

“Come with me somewhere.”

Lee Taebaek blanked a beat. Then chair-scraped loud, stood.

“Been waiting.”

“Let’s go.”

Patrons scooted chairs, cleared path. As they passed—without turning.

“Before the malatang cools.”

Proprietor Jang Chwiyen eyed his back, grinned heroically.