## Chapter 6
—
Yuri, a former pickpocket, had the habit of never knowing when his room might get robbed, so he hid money all over the place.
When he gathered it all into one spot, there was so much that he found himself thinking it might have been better to just buy a safe.
In a corner of the bed, he discovered Yuri’s diary.
Because he needed to understand the personality and emotions that were separate from memory, the diary’s existence was important.
It wasn’t something written diligently every single day.
Only once in a while—
when sleep wouldn’t come,
when he hated lying blankly on the bed, hating himself and his surroundings, and just wanted to write something, anything,
when something filling his chest or head needed to be poured out.
Those were the times he wrote.
And honestly, it wasn’t even much of a diary.
Like most diaries of that sort, there was almost nothing about what happened during the day.
It was mostly thick, sticky emotions.
And naturally, most of those were negative loathings.
The Yuri who wrote the diary knew he was trash, and he also knew that if he kept living like this, he would become trash that didn’t even burn.
The Black Snake Faction wasn’t a proper organization. It wouldn’t be strange if it disappeared at any time, and even if it did, not a single person would care.
If he wanted to live properly, he had to cut ties with the Black Snake Faction…
But he needed money.
Enough money to leave this countryside.
Enough money to settle wherever he went.
Yuri had been saving money to leave this city.
Leave, live a somewhat better life, and if possible learn magic or martial arts properly… and if that didn’t work out, start some other job…
From the diary filled line after line with such thoughts, one could glimpse the insight of twenty-year-old Yuri.
In the end, just as Yuri had expected, the Black Snake Faction was easily annihilated.
And in the process, Yuri was stabbed and died.
But thankfully, the money remained.
At first, he used the savings bit by bit to get used to the world—
buying things he immediately needed, buying meals outside.
After four days, he started hovering around the first-floor communal kitchen.
He bought ingredients from the nearby market and cooked for himself, relying on Yuri’s memories.
Though “cooking” meant little more than frying some unidentifiable scraps of meat with rock-hard bread bought outside.
Strangely enough, while eating that tasteless food, tears streamed down his face.
Steaming white rice and kimchi.
Noodles, especially ramyeon.
Spicy stir-fried pork.
Chicken.
Jokbal, bossam.
He missed them.
He even grew used to the communal squat toilet on the first floor of the housing complex.
It wasn’t that he wanted to get used to it.
He simply had to.
No matter how filthy it was.
Even if finger-length bugs swarmed and the stench was unbearable.
If you eat, you have to shit.
If you don’t, that itself is a problem.
Fortunately, Yuri’s body didn’t have problems like that.
If anything, it was extremely healthy.
“Fuck.”
He got used to the cold well water dumped over his head.
He got used to meditating every day.
Circulating energy and regulating breath. Mana cultivation.
Only the names differed depending on culture—the content was the same.
Sit still, meditate, and accumulate mana or qi inside the body.
— *Even if it’s uncomfortable and painful, you must maintain the proper posture! Mr. Lee Su-hyeok, remember this! My advice, Lorellia’s, is worth its weight in gold!*
There was no need to follow the obviously scam-smelling Wind Origin Heart Method or the Basic Mana Primer.
In this bleak situation, Lorellia’s advice truly was worth gold.
He didn’t know just how outstanding the Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique she personally taught him was, but judging by the grandiose name alone, it seemed extremely high-grade.
*There wasn’t a martial art with a name like that in the game.*
If it had been something from the game, he could have assessed its value immediately, but since it was unfamiliar, he couldn’t gauge it.
Whether it was because the Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique Art was excellent, or because of the possessor’s mana affinity and comprehension, each time he practiced, the increase in mana felt abnormal.
Possessors had the potential to become monsters so long as they survived.
He now understood why natives killed possessors early, and why possessors slaughtered each other.
*This…*
It was dangerous.
After ten days, Yuri felt a sharp sense of crisis.
Simply meditating and piling up internal energy wasn’t always good.
If the body was weak, it couldn’t withstand its own internal power.
Even when he punched Oh Bong-chun’s jaw, his wrist had sprained and his skin torn.
Even if internal energy could strengthen the body, basic external training was still necessary.
So he added bodyweight exercises to his daily routine and began punching the wall beside the window.
*I need martial arts.*
The core method was already the Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle.
He also had one technique—Blazing Burst Fist—but it still felt lacking. If possible, he wanted to learn another fist style.
What about using weapons?
“Stop!”
If Lorellia heard that, she would probably shout.
“Fist techniques don’t just fall from the sky.”
He checked bookstores around Aldor just in case, but there was no way a proper martial arts manual would exist in a backwater town like this.
*Then just make the skill yourself!*
Lorellia’s golden advice resurfaced.
Strong possessors who survived in this world implemented the skills they had used in the game into reality. Even if not perfectly identical, they combined magic or martial arts following builds already verified in the game.
But for Yuri, that was difficult.
His character, “Padlip-Immune,” didn’t use weapons.
Didn’t wear armor either.
The build revolved around a skill that granted bonus stats depending on how many equipment slots were sealed.
The more slots sealed, the stronger he became.
By the end, the character wore nothing but underwear.
Stacking bonus stats.
Blessings granted by combat flow.
Evasion that surpassed system limits.
High-power skills that consumed health.
Reduced HP pumped stats further.
Total stats recalculated.
Near death triggered berserk amplification.
Life steal sustained him.
Defense from gear was replaced with inflated HP, skating the health cutoff with pure control, fighting with overwhelming bonus stats.
That was the concept.
But walking around in nothing but underwear might work in a game—not reality.
Stats wouldn’t rise just because you refused weapons and armor.
Still, maybe he could build something similar.
Blazing Burst Fist was used bare-handed, and Yuri was most comfortable with hand-to-hand combat anyway.
Underwear aside, he might acquire other skills later.
In the end, he had no choice but to give up weapon arts.
Humans’ strength lay in using tools—insisting on bare hands felt like voluntarily becoming a chimpanzee.
*…Wait, don’t chimpanzees use tools too?*
He’d seen a movie where they shot guns.
Well, maybe once his internal art improved, he could fire internal energy like bullets.
External training.
Combat-usable techniques.
But there was another source of unease.
“Yuri” had been terrible with mana.
He’d studied the manuals but achieved nothing.
If he suddenly filled his dantian with internal energy now, wouldn’t anyone who knew him grow suspicious?
Not just acquaintances.
To avoid suspicion of being a possessor, he had to learn how to hide himself.
He remembered Lorellia’s advice again.
Possessors’ affinity meant they could freely manipulate mana. With the right effort, they could even create new magic or martial arts.
The key words were *create it yourself.*
He searched libraries again. Nothing.
“Hey, you eating something good these days?”
The real sense of crisis hit when he met Gordon at the general store.
“You look healthier. Skin’s smooth. Dark circles are gone.”
He hadn’t eaten anything special.
He just practiced the Demonic Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique daily.
After a few hours, his mind felt clear and his body refreshed.
Sometimes dark, foul-smelling sweat came out—but it felt like toxins leaving his body.
“Ah, no… nothing special. Maybe just resting at home lately?”
He brushed it off and hurried back.
*Shit.*
Standing naked before the mirror, the difference was obvious.
Smooth skin.
No dark circles.
Bright eyes.
He needed countermeasures.
Vitality couldn’t be helped.
But he had to hide his internal energy.
So he tried something reckless.
He examined the internal energy flowing through his meridians and dantian.
What if he blocked the meridians? Twisted them? Would it look like he had none?
It didn’t work.
He nearly died.
Just slightly twisting the smoothly flowing energy made it feel like his insides were flipping over.
The pain was so severe he couldn’t even scream.
He lay convulsing for three days, barely recovering on the fourth.
Without a possessor’s mana affinity and the Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique, he wouldn’t have restored the twisted meridians.
*This won’t work.*
Not at his current level.
After throwing away sweat-soaked, embarrassing clothes and stepping out for the first time in five days—
*Thud.*
Something wedged in the door crack fell to the floor.
“What’s this?”
A letter.
No sender. No recipient.
When?
He hadn’t heard knocking while collapsed.
—
Because of a small mistake, I was unable to convey what I meant to say.
Are you alive?
I believe you are.
You are not someone who would die over something this trivial.
In truth, I know.
If you had died, I would have known somehow.
If you are worried about me, you don’t need to be.
As I told you when we parted, I am not afraid of punishment.
And the punishment wasn’t as severe as I expected.
It is a special case in many ways.
My family was dissatisfied that I went this far,
but I am someone who always keeps my promises.
After all, thanks to you, my family benefited.
I believed repayment was only right.
In the end, they acknowledged that too.
They decided, somehow, to accept the unilateral action I took.
This is the gift I promised you.
It is called the *Veil of Deception*. You, of all people, will know what it is.
This is a gift I am sending personally, unrelated to my family.
Since I have treated you this exceptionally, if anything goes wrong, I will have to take responsibility myself.
Of course, I am prepared for that.
I am the only one who knows you, so it is only right that I bear the responsibility.
Then, may you be at peace.
P.S.
Only you can open this letter, and one minute after opening it, it will explode.
You do not need to worry about being tracked. Conversely, do not attempt to track it.
There was no noisy tone.
They had phrased it as “family,” indirectly.
But Yuri immediately understood who had sent this letter, and who that “family” referred to.
Without realizing it, Yuri let out a sigh of relief at the line saying the punishment hadn’t been severe.
Perhaps someday the record might be broken, but considering the difference in the flow of time, it was unlikely that another possessor would cross into this world for decades.
For the Order, whose purpose was to restore chaos to order, fewer possessors arriving was only good news.
It seemed Lorellia had received a light punishment for that reason as well.
“Right…!”
He had been so busy living as Yuri these past few weeks that he had forgotten.
The gift Lorellia had promised.
“Veil of Deception…?”
Tilting his head, Yuri turned the envelope over.
Clink.
A thin necklace fell out. He didn’t know the material, and it had no special decorations.
“No, wait. Explode?”
Putting aside thoughts about the necklace, he set the letter down first.
Hadn’t a minute already passed? Just as that thought crossed his mind—
Fwoosh!
The letter caught fire.
Despite saying it would explode, it simply burned into black ash.
*If that’s the case, why call it an explosion?*
It was absurd, but there was no one to argue with.
The Veil of Deception.
He remembered what kind of item it was.
In the game, one of the inconveniences of having too large a level gap was that weak monsters wouldn’t approach you. Instead, they ran away.
Normally convenient, since it avoided annoying fights—but when you needed to grind something specific, it became incredibly troublesome having to chase monsters down.
The Veil of Deception was used in those situations.
When worn, monsters would attack you normally regardless of level difference.
It was an item frequently used by *Padlip-Immune*, who always had to keep his HP moderately lowered.
Yuri examined the necklace from different angles.
He didn’t quite understand why he needed this right now, but he put it around his neck anyway.
—Tuduk.
“Huh—what?”
Startled, he tried to grab it, but couldn’t.
The necklace stuck to his skin and sank inside.
There was no pain, but even so, a thin metal chain burrowing into his skin and disappearing was enough to shock him.
He rubbed around his neck, smooth without any bulges.
Then he realized something and sat down.
There was a faint sense of incongruity in his dantian and meridians.
Closing his eyes, focusing and observing, he soon understood what the necklace did—how the game’s *Veil of Deception* functioned here.
To outward appearances, Yuri now seemed to have not even a handful of internal energy or mana.
Just like its name—an item that deceived the opponent.
Exactly as written in the letter, it was something he desperately needed right now.
Yuri rubbed his neck and let out a hollow laugh.
“If you’d given this a week earlier…”
Then he wouldn’t have spent two days worrying, three days collapsed and convulsing, and another day groaning through recovery.
After a brief grumble, Yuri knelt down.
Toward the Order, wherever they might be.
Toward the Goddess of Order and Lorellia, who had fallen into a long sleep.
He offered a prayer of thanks.
He had lived his whole life an atheist, but after receiving a gift like this directly, believing in the existence of a god and offering thanks felt only natural.
When he finished praying, the floor of the room felt new.
He cleaned up the various fluids he had spilled while collapsed for five days, swept away the ashes, scrubbed his dirty clothes rather than throw them out, washed himself—
By the time he finished, an entire day had passed.
Twenty-seven-year-old Lee Su-hyeok had lived as twenty-year-old Yuri for exactly one full month.
*
*
Over the past few days, Yuri had begun a new challenge.
Changing his face.
He’d seen that kind of martial art in wuxia novels or comics.
He didn’t remember the name, but it used internal energy to twist facial muscles and bones—essentially martial-arts-style plastic surgery.
*If changing the body’s possible… changing just the face would already be enough.*
After living as Yuri for a month, he realized something.
If possible, it was better to discard the name “Yuri” as soon as he could.
He didn’t meet Gordon often, and he deliberately kept his distance. Talking too often might leave traces.
Compared to a childhood friend he’d only exchanged letters with for ten years, Gordon—who lived on the same street and saw his face regularly—felt far more troublesome.
Even with the Veil of Deception, living as “Yuri” still carried risks.
If he succeeded in changing his face, he’d gain much more freedom.
Leave Gordon a letter, say he was leaving the city, then maybe buy forged identification…
Knock. Knock.
The problem was that changing his face wasn’t as easy as he’d imagined.
Muscles moved fine, but he couldn’t figure out how to twist the bones. After nearly dying from tampering with meridians weeks ago, he hesitated to act recklessly.
Knock knock knock.
*Who is it?*
He stopped moving his facial muscles around in the mirror.
The knocking persisted.
He ignored it at first, thinking Gordon might be asking him to eat together, but it was too persistent.
He kept silent. Pretended he wasn’t home.
Whoever it was would leave eventually.
Maybe Lorellia? But she didn’t seem the type to visit personally.
He turned back to the mirror, adjusting muscles around his eyes to form double eyelids, trying to change their size—
CRASH!
The door shattered.
“…?”
Yuri hurriedly stopped and stood up.
The one who had broken the door strode inside and met his eyes.
“Why are you pretending you’re not here?”
A blonde woman glared at him.
In this rural town of Aldor, where he had lived for a month, she stood out immediately as an outsider.
A wide-brimmed hat.
Shimmering blonde hair.
Clear, pale skin.
A dress made of obviously high-quality fabric.
Even her shoes were spotless, without a speck of dust.
“I said, why are you pretending you’re not here?”
She repeated the same question coldly.
Yuri could only stare blankly at her face, unable to answer.
The situation itself made no sense.
Even if Aldor was a lawless backwater, someone smashing a door down in broad daylight was absurd.
And it wasn’t some thug—it was a beautiful woman he’d never seen before.
Yet somehow, he was the one being questioned.
“No way.”
Her eyebrow twitched.
Between narrowing eyelids and thick lashes, blue eyes flashed.
“…You don’t recognize me?”
Her voice turned just as cold.
Honestly, he hadn’t.
It couldn’t be helped.
The face he remembered was that of a ten-year-old girl. Even if she’d grown, ten and twenty were worlds apart.
And her entire aura had changed.
All that remained were the blonde hair and blue eyes.
“There’s no way you wouldn’t recognize me.”
With that, the name finally surfaced.
“Elena.”
In her last letter, Elena had written that she’d be leaving the Mage Tower for half a year on a Rank 4 mission.
— *I’ll wait for your reply.*
That’s how it ended.
Yuri hadn’t replied.
Nor had Elena written again.
Half a year passed.
They had silently given up on each other.
The thin connection born from childhood memories had ended—or so Yuri thought.
In earlier letters, he had already told her she didn’t need to write anymore.
Her life—*Elena Heinderga’s* life—stood in stark contrast to Yuri, an orphan without even a surname.
Her letters only made him painfully aware of reality, fueling inferiority and jealousy.
“Why are you here?”
Truthfully, Yuri had never wanted to see Elena again.
Even as a childhood friend, she meant nothing to him now. He didn’t even feel envy or jealousy anymore.
He just wanted her to remain distant. Far away. Or for him to leave instead.
But he had never imagined she would come looking for him.
Was her mission nearby?
Or did she come because he hadn’t replied?
While Yuri scrambled through thoughts, Elena pressed her lips tight, glaring at him.
She gripped the hem of her white dress, then strode forward.
“Hey, wait—”
She approached without answering.
He instinctively grew wary.
He became strangely conscious of his neck.
*Veil of Deception.*
As long as he had it, Elena wouldn’t be able to detect his internal energy.
“Stay still.”
She snapped coldly.
But there was no way he could simply obey.
Should he jump out the window and run?
As he backed away, something caught his leg.
The bed.
The cramped room left nowhere to retreat.
His escape route was gone.
Elena nodded as if satisfied.
Thud.
Her hand lightly pushed the air.
At that moment, Yuri saw the mana in the atmosphere move.
But seeing it didn’t mean he could dodge.
“—Hk!”
The approaching mana struck his chest.
Naturally, he ended up sitting on the bed.
Blinking in confusion—
“Don’t move.”
Her cold voice delivered the warning.
