**Chapter 3**
—
“A body trained to the extreme surpasses any weapon. Weapons are for cowards who lack the courage to throw their own bodies onto the line of death.”
“Knives are stronger than fists, though.”
“That’s prejudice. A trained fist can even shatter steel!”
“…But a knife can cut a fist even without training.”
“Then you punch the swordsman before you get cut!”
Lorellia didn’t look like she had the slightest intention of backing down. Wearing a stubborn expression, she stared straight at Lee Su-hyeok.
“Of course, it might be easier to gain killing power by training weapons rather than your body. But! Once you reach a certain level, someone who trains only their body is physically superior to someone who trains both body and weapon. And mana ultimately comes from your own body. All that talk about unity with sword or unity with weapon—forget it. Wrapping power directly around your own body is the most natural, correct, and strongest method!”
Her rapid-fire words left no room for rebuttal. Su-hyeok didn’t really understand things like mana or sword unity, so he just nodded along.
“So I, Lorellia, will not give you weapons or armor! But through this *special* training, you’ll gain something far more valuable than those!”
“…Learning how to throw punches?”
“That’s valuable too! But normally, teaching a possessor something like this is forbidden. There’s no guarantee the possessor we’re assigned to is a good person. But I trust you, Lee Su-hyeok-nim!”
Her voice carried pride.
“What you will receive is my martial art!”
“…Martial art?”
His eyes widened.
“This privilege belongs only to you among all possessors. The reason is—”
“Ah.”
Something clicked.
“…Because I’m the last possessor?”
The evil god’s trap only dragged in whoever ranked first in the Hall of Fame. Which meant that if first place was never updated again, no more possessors would come.
“My record won’t ever be beaten.”
He was certain. If he hadn’t been that certain, he wouldn’t have updated the record in the first place. Even among top players fighting over fractions of a second, Padlip-Immune’s time was overwhelmingly dominant.
Anyone capable of taking first already had. The rankings had been frozen for half a year. The game had no new players. First place wasn’t changing.
“That’s correct.”
A bright smile spread across Lorellia’s face.
“Among the possessors, some oppose the evil god to restore order, some adapt and live comfortably, some join the evil god and destroy order, and some have died.”
“…”
“I see possessors as pitiful victims. But it’s also true that their existence and actions disrupt our world’s order. So… in that sense, I, Lorellia… on behalf of the slumbering Goddess… wish to grant you a privilege.”
She raised two fingers.
“There are two things I will teach you. One is an internal energy cultivation method. The other is a technique for using your fists… *stronger*.”
—
—
If Lee Su-hyeok, a 27-year-old Korean man, had committed any sin, it was only that he played a game others didn’t—and played it well.
No matter how he thought about it, that was his only crime.
The game barely even had online features beyond clear-time rankings. He’d never caused trouble.
He’d never caused problems in the community either. By his own standards, he was a clean, passionate player others could look up to.
So how the hell had things ended up like this?
Nothing good had ever happened in his life.
His parents died in an accident when he was young. He grew up freeloading at a distant relative’s house.
He’d never had a girlfriend. Not even real friends. The only people he’d ever talked to at length were online acquaintances from game forums.
His life was already miserable enough. If a god really existed, the least it could’ve done was pity him—not pile on even more misfortune.
*A god?*
He’d never believed in one before.
Now he had no choice.
Because that damned god had kidnapped him into another world.
“Lee Su-hyeok-nim! Put sincerity into your fist!”
“Just extending your arm doesn’t make it a punch! A punch is hitting the opponent! Not just hitting—but hurting! My Blazing Burst Fist pursues one-hit kills!”
“Don’t just swing your fist! Your legs! Your waist! Your back! Your shoulders! Your whole body!”
“Step forward! Twist your body like this! Pull back the arm you’re not using! Engage your shoulders and back!”
“If you’re only using your fists and body, are you saving your inner energy to make soup later?! Pour it into the punch!”
“No! If you can’t control it yet, don’t force it! For now just shove the punch in!”
“Yes! Like that!”
He didn’t know how many times he’d swung.
Lorellia had seemed gentle at first glance, but when it came to teaching violence, she was a merciless instructor who overlooked nothing.
If he messed up, she’d thump her chest in frustration. Her words grew rougher. She demonstrated herself. If that didn’t fix it, she’d physically grab his arms and waist and move him into position.
In this waiting room, he never got tired. Getting hit didn’t hurt.
But that wasn’t fortunate.
It just meant there was no rest.
How much time passed?
How many punches?
Then—
*Ah.*
For the first time, the punch felt completely different.
It felt like it was being sucked toward Lorellia’s face.
*If this lands, she dies.*
That thought drifted through his mind.
But he didn’t stop.
He didn’t want to.
This feeling—this was what he needed.
Thud.
Lorellia casually blocked it with her hand.
“Hm.”
Their eyes met. She blinked her red eyes, then smiled faintly and nodded.
“Excellent, Lee Su-hyeok-nim.”
“Huff…”
His shoulders trembled.
After thousands of punches and endless scolding, he’d somehow developed something like a bond with her.
She was strange and awkward for a priestess, but everything she did was to keep him from dying meaninglessly.
Hearing her say *excellent* made his chest swell.
“Then now—”
**BOOM.**
Before she finished, the ground—no, the world—shook like an earthquake.
He staggered, but Lorellia didn’t move.
Her pleasant smile vanished. She glared at the white sky and clicked her tongue.
“Tch.”
Annoyance dripped from the sound.
Then she smiled brightly again.
“What was that?”
“Lee Su-hyeok-nim!”
**BOOM.**
“Unfortunately, it’s time to say goodbye.”
“…What?”
**BOOM.**
Stronger.
He stiffened.
Her smile remained—but something was off.
She was angry.
Her eyes seemed redder.
**BOOM.**
The shaking intensified.
His vision spun. His legs gave out.
Lorellia crouched beside him calmly.
“Lee Su-hyeok-nim, were you satisfied with my guidance?”
“…What’s happening?”
“My training ran long… and I did things I wasn’t supposed to. They’re trying to wake me up outside.”
“Things you weren’t supposed to…?”
“Special training for possessors is forbidden, remember?”
“…Are you… okay?”
“Goodness, are you worrying about me? I’m touched.”
She giggled, hugging her knees.
“I’ll be punished, but I’m not weak enough to fear that. And if you weren’t my assigned possessor, I wouldn’t have taken the risk. So this isn’t your fault.”
“Sounds like you’re blaming me.”
“Just a little bragging.”
She stuck her tongue out playfully.
“So? Your answer? Were you satisfied?”
“…Aside from a few mistakes. I’m not happy about being possessed at all, but… yes. I’m glad you were my priestess.”
“Without the extra comments, I’d be deeply moved.”
She pouted.
“Still, for my first time teaching, wasn’t I pretty good? Maybe I have a talent for training possessors.”
Amid the collapsing mental world, she whispered:
“I hope I never have to bloom that talent.”
A priestess handled only one possessor. A new assignment only happened when the previous one died.
“…Don’t worry. You don’t have a talent for teaching.”
He smirked.
She blinked, then burst out laughing.
“How mean. You just crushed one of my infinite possibilities.”
She stood, helping him up.
He didn’t know much about her.
Just her name. A priestess of Order. In charge of “violence.”
She was the first person he’d met here.
If he survived… it would be thanks to her.
“…Can we meet again?”
He didn’t know why he asked.
“Maybe. If fate allows.”
“Here?”
“No. This place is only for new possessors. If we meet again… it’ll be in reality. As Yuri.”
“…Then I might look for you.”
“If my name isn’t fake? Priestesses of Order don’t lie. That’s why corrupted possessors could hunt us down and kill us.”
Her gaze pierced his.
“I hope we never meet with killing intent. I don’t want to kill you.”
“…Then how about just grabbing a meal?”
“Hehe. Not so easy. I’m not that easy to meet.”
**BOOOOM.**
The biggest quake yet.
“Within a month, my gift will arrive at Yuri’s home.”
“…Gift?”
“Something very helpful.”
The ground shattered.
She let go.
“Don’t try to find the Order.”
He fell.
“Then—have a happy and enjoyable life as a possessor.”
Was she teasing?
He wanted to snap back—
But couldn’t.
Blood.
The smell.
—
—
His eyes wouldn’t open.
His body wouldn’t move.
Heavy.
Hot, sticky something on his cheek.
Breathing.
Something seeped into his mouth.
*Blood.*
Taste of iron.
Then memories surfaced.
White room. Waiting room. Goddess. Priestess. Seronis. Possession.
Yuri.
—Most possessors enter living bodies.
But Yuri had died first.
*…Why?*
He’d never asked.
“Fucking Lorellia…!”
Sometimes life is just unlucky.
Some people get struck by lightning.
Some trip and crack their skull.
Lee Su-hyeok got dragged to another world for being good at a trash game.
Yuri got stabbed through the abdomen and died the very day he was possessed.
And his assigned priestess happened to be a “violence specialist” who made mistakes.
Three misfortunes stacked together.
The only silver lining: wounds heal once possession completes.
His heart beat again.
Eyes opened.
“…Fuck.”
Bodies.
Blood.
Furniture slashed.
Broken dishes on a blood-soaked table.
He forced himself up.
Not a dream.
Reality.
He checked a corpse.
Yellow face. Bulbous nose.
Pain in his head.
Fragments of memory clicked.
*Jangsam.*
The senior who dragged Yuri into the gang.
Memories flooded in.
This was the Black Snake gang’s office.
And they’d been massacred.
Voices outside.
“Hyung, they’re all dead.”
“Idiot. Always double-check.”
Panic.
No windows.
Only the door.
He grabbed a nearby dagger and lay flat, pretending to be dead.
Click.
The door opened.
