Chapter 109: Soul Art Online (5)

How could I just now realize this?

How could I just now remember that Nayu has been in astral projection for 24 hours straight?!

I specifically told her to let me know if it got too exhausting!!!

Meanwhile, I was just running macros, feeding Jamsuni, taking a sulking Myeong-Myeong out for a walk, and even catching a few hours of sleep. But Nayu—she couldn’t even drink water during her out-of-body state, could she?

This is insane.

I bolted toward Nayu’s house.

“Nayu! Nayu!”

Without hesitation, I pulled off her sunglasses and shut down the game console. But all I got was a faint groan—she showed no signs of waking up.

“This is my fault.”

I glanced around.

Her room felt oddly barren.

It was hard to believe this was a girl’s bedroom.

“First… water…”

I went straight to the cupboard above the sink.

Any normal household would keep cups in a place like this.

But instead of cups, the cupboard was neatly filled with Obangsaek flags.

Obangsaek flags?

Those were the kind of ritual tools you’d find in a shaman’s house.

In other words, something I’d expect to see in my own home.

So Nayu had these kinds of things too.

Silently, I closed the cupboard and scanned the room. I opened places where cups might be kept—like what looked like a wardrobe.

Inside were hanbok, a few casual outfits, and elaborate shamanic robes—ritual garments adorned in red, blue, and yellow.

My grandmother wore them. My mother wore them. Even my little sister eventually wore them. And now, Nayu had them too.

Below the clothes lay a shamanic fan representing the sky and earth, along with shaman bells. The sight of them stirred up a mess of emotions inside me.

“All the ritual tools from my house… they must’ve burned to ashes.”

It hurt.

And yet, somehow, I missed them.

Even though I hated them so much.

“Damn it. Nayu… don’t tell me, you’re like me…”

Ever since the Day of Spirit Awakening, the old shamanic relics had disappeared. Unlike hereditary shamans, those who gained their powers through divine possession had transformed—like modern supernatural beings.

Come to think of it, what happened to the priestly shamans who passed down their spiritual abilities before that day?

“Ugh…”

A weak groan escaped Nayu’s lips.

Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this.

I need to grab some water and a cup from my place.

****

Yoo Hajin rushed back with water, Jamsuni’s precious pudding, and some instant porridge before hurrying back to Nayu’s side.

“Nayu, come on. Snap out of it. Here, drink some water first.”

Gulp, gulp—

The moment the water slid down her throat, she mumbled something.

“Nayu login emergency expression…!”

“What do you mean, an emergency login? You’re totally VR-addicted.”

“Nayu person inside!”

“Of course, there’s someone inside. But there are people in the real world too.”

But Nayu struggled, trying to pull away from Yoo Hajin’s grip. He simply held her closer.

“Nayu’s family is in there…”

“I know. You lost your family too.”

Her eyes locked onto Yoo Hajin’s.

His gaze looked unbearably sorrowful.

Even though he wasn’t crying, his eyes seemed like they were.

“Your family told you something terrible was going to happen, didn’t they? So they suddenly started performing grand rituals, climbing mountains… then disappeared?”

Nayu’s eyes flinched—she was trying to hide her surprise.

“I was the same.”

Yoo Hajin continued.

“I searched for my family until I was on the brink of death. I climbed mountains, stumbled, got torn up, went days without food—desperately trying to find them.”

No one helped him.

His grandmother and mother were just seen as crazy women in the village.

His little sister was too young—she could barely stay at home alone, let alone search for anyone.

Not the adults, not the police…

No one helped.

After days of searching, Yoo Hajin reached the foot of the mountain. That day, rain poured down. He stood there, looking down at the city sprawled below… and screamed.

That night, He made a decision.

From then on, he would live only for himself—just like the adults did.

But Nayu… she was both like him and completely different.

Unlike him, who had given in to despair, she was still clinging to a fragile hope—desperately holding onto this cruel world.

As memories of that rainy night resurfaced, Yoo Hajin murmured in a sorrowful voice.

“Nayu.”

Then he spoke.

“I told you, didn’t I? I’ll help you. I’ll help you, so…”

Yoo Hajin gently caressed Nayu’s cheek.

At that moment, the sorrow inside her seemed to ease, even if just a little.

“You don’t have to give up everything. I told you, didn’t I? You don’t have to sacrifice yourself.”

Nayu’s hand moved.

Softly, hesitantly, she reached up and wiped away the tear that had trailed down the man’s cheek. His tears clung to her fingertips.

Now that she thought about it, Yoo Hajin had cried back in the Heavenly Ordeal Sect too.

‘Tears for Nayu…?’

‘Ah… so back then, he had cried for me.’

She had never experienced something like this before. Only now did she realize it.

Nayu tried to recall the nights at Heavenly Ordeal Sect.

She remembered the rainy days.

No matter how much she screamed, no matter how much she begged in pain, the adults only frowned or remained expressionless.

She thought that was normal.

‘Tears for Nayu…?’

But Yoo Hajin had been crying for her ever since Heavenly Ordeal Sect.

‘…!’

The boy, abandoned by adults, had tried to forget his dark nights through a girl.

And the girl, abandoned by adults, had slowly erased the pain of her stormy nights through his tears.

‘…! …!’

For the first time, upon seeing these tears, Nayu felt something new.

It was an emotion she had never known before.

A dark, selfish emotion.

Yes, Yoo Hajin…

To Nayu, he had already been an irreplaceable person because of what happened in Heavenly Ordeal Sect.

But now, he was becoming someone even more precious. More than anyone else.

For the first time, she wanted to claim someone as her own.

The feeling was so unfamiliar that Nayu was startled.

‘I, Nayu, have a bad thought…’

She buried the emotion deep within her.

She wasn’t allowed to feel this way.

Not for Yoo Hajin’s sake.

At that moment, a woman’s voice echoed in her mind.

A voice from an unforgettable past.

“A girl not even ten years old… survived? Impossible.”

“Sky-colored hair, sky-colored eyes. Heavenly eye and Heavenly Body… Could it be? Was she born with the same innate destiny as me? Is that why she survived my Attack?”

“I see… Girl, you are my distant descendant. If we are bound by the fate of lineage, then such a miracle could be possible. So, fate has chosen you as my successor. The odds were one in Nayuta*… but if it’s fate, then it’s inevitable.”

The absolute being with sky-colored eyes had gazed down at young Nayu with a benevolent expression—amidst a land where everything else had perished.

“Then, I shall name you Nayu.”

“Do not forget it.”

And Nayu never did.

That was why she had to suppress her feelings for Yoo Hajin.

Because when the time came to face the absolute ruler of Cheonji, she didn’t want Yoo Hajin to be hurt because of her emotions.

But Yoo Hajin knew none of this.

And with his usual kindness, he simply said—

“First, eat this. Then take a bath and get some sleep.”

Nom—

Sweet pudding filled Nayu’s mouth.

As if possessed, she mindlessly devoured Jamsuni’s precious pudding, spoonful after spoonful.

And just as he instructed, she washed up and went to bed.

While she was in the bathroom, Yoo Hajin changed the bedsheets, pulled out a fresh blanket, and made the bed warm and cozy.

No—maybe that wasn’t what truly made it feel warm.

Maybe the real warmth came from Yoo Hajin’s gentle hand, softly brushing against her forehead.

As he watched the drowsy girl doze off in bed, Yoo Hajin thought of a boy wandering lost in the mountains.

He wished that boy could finally sleep without tears.

And he hoped that, unlike that boy, this girl would never fall into despair and cry.

So, the boy—now a grown man—whispered softly into her ear.

“Nayu, don’t worry. Just sleep.”

“Na… Nayu cool-cool.”

‘Nayu cool-cool.’

How was she able to talk while sleeping so soundly?

What a mysterious thing.

* * *

The Hero Clan’s Executive, Hero Pilsal, Spoke to the Man Before Him.

“Are you Heavenly Demon Descendant?”

“Can’t you tell from my nickname?”

“…?”

Heavenly Demon Descendant—a true warrior who knew no fear, a legend said to have monopolized special rewards through sheer mental fortitude.

Rumors had it that he was always accompanied by two women: one, a breathtaking beauty with sky-blue hair, and the other, a ruthless beauty with golden hair.

‘A warrior known for both heroism and debauchery…’

‘He would fit right into our clan…’

No. Hero Pilsal shook his head and focused on analyzing the opponent’s weapon.

Dual swords.

Hah, dual swords.

‘The symbol of inevitable defeat?’

‘Symbol of inevitable defeat? That’s only when you split a single sword into two. If you start with dual swords from the beginning, you’re invincible!!! And don’t you know that in VR slaughter games, dual swords are the foundation of all combat?!!’

Hero Pilsal recalled the Dual Sword Tech Tree.

For dual sword maniacs, attack speed was everything. The effectiveness of dual swords depended entirely on how fast you could unleash consecutive strikes.

A blade barrier that intercepts evasions.

Damage scaling that increases with attack speed.

A relentless torrent of attacks that becomes its own form of defense.

In theory, dual swords were the strongest weapon type. And yet, among the Rankers, not a single one wielded them.

Except for this man.

‘To reach Ranker-level proficiency with dual swords, you’d need to land 50 attacks per second. To step into the realm of theoretical perfection, you’d need 100 attacks per second. But even if you invested every single stat point into Agility, the academic consensus is that 30 attacks per second is outright impossible.’

Hero Pilsal shifted his gaze to the women standing beside Heavenly Demon Descendant.

‘So this bastard’s actually a dumbass dual sword maniac? Ha. This is going to be easy.’

‘Guess I was worried for nothing.’

“Hey, you lot! Set up the barrier. No one’s leaving this place.”

“Yes, sir!”

The Hero Clan’s barrier descended.

Watching this unfold, Hero Pilsal smirked.

“Time to have some fun.”

Meanwhile, outside the monitor, Yoo Hajin yawned as he launched a program.

An Auto Clicker.

Click—

Maximum click speed: 400 clicks per second.

– – The End of The Chapter – –

 

[TL: Nayuta: This refers to 1 followed by 60 zeros in Korean.

You can support the translation and read 5 chapters ahead of the release here on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Bill94

 

Join Our Discord for regular updates and have fun with other community members: https://discord.com/invite/SqWtJpPtm9 ]