Failed Possession Chapter-105

## Ch-105.

—

The Chuk Shin-do of the past—was not very different from the present one.

He openly used the same name, “Chuk Shin-do,” as he had in the community, and adopted the signature celebration of the soccer player he admired as his symbol in this world.

So that one day, when those bastards who would inevitably reach Rank 1 in that damned Hall and be dragged here came looking for him—

Unless they were suddenly struck by some accident, even if they planned to kill themselves the very next day, they were the type who would first secure Rank 1 before doing so. They would never quit the game before reaching the top. One day, without fail, they would be abducted into this world.

His appearance and name were symbols of his resolve to survive here.

He would never die until they found him and they met again.

He would survive no matter what.

He would kill the Evil God, make his wish… and return to Earth.

The first reunion in this world had been with **FUCKINGSEXY**.

The FS Chuk Shin-do remembered was a guy who attached photos or drawings of pretty boys to his posts every day and diligently broadcasted his masturbation diary.

And yet that very same bastard had appeared in this world with a face so flawlessly handsome even another man had to admit it, and fashion to match.

There was a saying: even ugly fellows are happy just to see each other’s faces.

Chuk Shin-do did not consider himself ugly—but when he first met FUCKINGSEXY in this world, he had been so overwhelmed with joy and relief that he laughed while tears and snot streamed down his face.

FS had laughed too.

On Earth, they had never met in person, never exchanged real names, ages, or photos.

Yet they had not been strangers.

In some ways, those who poured unfiltered desires at one another behind the mask of anonymity could be closer than real-life acquaintances.

To Chuk Shin-do, FS, UsaUsami, CatPanties, and Padlip-Immune had been such people.

—

—

 

“So what’s the occasion? You contacting me first?”

If there were smartphones, they could video call across the globe.

But in this world, there were no such convenient all-purpose tools.

Even in a world where various convenience magics had developed, long-distance magical communication came with numerous conditions.

[Ah, ah…]

Through crackling static, a voice came.

On the flickering screen, Allen Suface’s face appeared uncomfortably close.

[Why is the connection like this?]

“Unstable mana flow, probably.”

Boom! Boom!

Explosions rang out in succession.

Chuk Shin-do shrugged.

“So what is it? Don’t tell me you’re coming here?”

[My wish is to live happily in this world for a long, long time.]

Allen stroked his smoothly sculpted chin and grinned.

[If I want that, I should avoid dangerous places as much as possible. With my skill level, I’d just get caught in some stray attack and die there.]

“You’re really good at playing weak.”

[What?]

“I mean you’re good at pretending.”

Allen was a master artisan of the Hammer Church and a leading candidate for the next Captain of the Holy Knights.

He was fully equipped with divine relics that even high-ranking experts struggled to possess more than one of. Depending on the situation, he changed the blessings imbued in his gear—or simply forged new ones.

He avoided battlefields because he wanted to live long and happily.

But that did not mean he was weak.

“If there’s nothing important, can I hang up?”

[I met that guy.]

“That guy? Who?”

[Cloud Dragon.]

Chuk Shin-do’s eyes widened.

[You remember, right? A few years ago you said you’d seen a promising kid. The one who learned martial arts from Fist Wolf, Bakered Laspion.]

He had not told Allen yet that Padlip-Immune had arrived in this world.

Circumstantially, Yuri almost certainly was Padlip-Immune—but without direct confirmation, he could not go around declaring it.

“Cloud Dragon… He was in Alderan until recently, wasn’t he? How did you run into the brat?”

[I happened to be at a temple in a nearby city. They asked me to verify an item dropped by the Agwi. I was curious what he’d dropped. You’d be surprised too.]

“What is it?”

[Geburah.]

Chuk Shin-do’s mouth fell half open.

“That bastard had Geburah and still got crushed in Alderan?”

[I heard the full circumstances this time. He was too greedy. And Heavenly Thunder was far too fatal a matchup for him.]

“So did Geburah return to the Hammer Order? If you recovered it, couldn’t you siphon it off somehow?”

[No. Cloud Dragon took Geburah.]

Chuk Shin-do forced himself to control his expression.

At the same time, countless thoughts raced through his mind.

“Damn, I’m jealous.”

It was sincere.

“My eye wasn’t wrong. Even when I first saw him, I thought he was special. And in just two years, he’s grown this much? And now Geburah too? Won’t that bastard reach Martial Zenith level in a few years?”

He said it like a joke—but inside, he was burning.

He had not approached Cloud Dragon directly because he wanted a natural meeting. But Cloud Dragon’s growth was faster than he had anticipated.

‘At this rate, I won’t even get to bus him.’

He had prepared so much for the friends he would inevitably meet again.

Though he had yet to hear anything about the Church of Order, he had already received an elixir by handling the Ascad family’s matter.

Alfreon was currently experimenting with a new elixir—he had secured a promise of one bottle once it was completed.

And that was not all.

For CatPanties, he had stockpiled rare poison pellets.

For Padlip-Immune, he had prepared the manual of the Blood Wheel Soul-Severing Palm—the technique he had once favored.

For UsaUsami, a unique-grade exclusive grimoire.

He had amassed gifts enough to tear his sleeves, all in preparation for their reunion.

But something was going wrong.

He had earned the epithet Full-Moon Play and entered the ranks of the Martial Zeniths long ago—yet only FS had come to find him so far.

‘Is this all going to turn to crap?’

These were not things he had gathered easily.

He had suffered like a dog to collect them even before reaching Martial Zenith.

They had to see the light of day.

Now, anxiety crept in.

Cloud Dragon was already growing fast—and if he had acquired Geburah with its skill-growth enhancement, then in a few years he might truly reach Martial Zenith level.

Breaking through the wall of Seventh Rank only a few years after beginning true martial cultivation?

Absurd.

But for a possessor—especially a recent one—it could not be declared impossible.

The “talent” granted to possessors was not equal.

Those who came early could exploit game knowledge.

Those who used that knowledge well secured hidden items, magic, manuals—and laid the foundation for growth.

Late arrivals could not exploit such knowledge.

Most items had already been claimed, and NPC personalities had hardened after dealing with foolish possessors.

Many late possessors had tried to use game knowledge half-baked—and were exposed and hunted.

In place of knowledge, they were granted greater talent.

That was Chuk Shin-do’s judgment.

The Hall of Fame ranked by clear time.

The higher one’s record at Rank 1, the greater the talent granted.

‘Knowing that bastard’s personality, he’d have set an unbeatable record.’

If talent varied by clear time—how monstrous must Padlip-Immune’s talent be?

[Is Cloud Dragon a possessor?]

“What kind of nonsense is that all of a sudden?”

[After meeting him in person, my impressions were… ambiguous in several ways. Judging by his growth rate, he could be one. If someone crossed over around this time, the odds are high it’d be Padlip-Immune. But Cloud Dragon blended into this world too well. He looked perfectly normal.]

“From what I can see, you’ve blended in just fine too. You look perfectly normal.”

[Don’t compare me to Padlip-Immune. I admit that in front of a computer I expressed my desires honestly, but in real life I was a perfectly normal person.]

“What did you say your job was back on Earth?”

[Wall Street fund manager.]

“I was an idol in Korea.”

[Yeah, right.]

“You too.”

Wall Street, my ass. Chuk Shin-do snorted.

“Whether Cloud Dragon’s a possessor or not isn’t really your concern, is it? You don’t like getting involved with possessors.”

Chuk Shin-do didn’t hide that he himself was one, so he knew many of them.

But FS—Allen—was different. He didn’t even know that Lacy Yuzuha was actually Thor. He had no interest. The only possessor Allen privately kept contact with was Chuk Shin-do.

Allen found his life in this world overwhelmingly happy—and he was wary of possessors, who carried more than enough potential to shatter that happiness.

[That’s true.]

Allen nodded slowly.

[But the bonds from Earth are precious to me as well. You, CatPanties, Padlip-Immune, UsaUsami. You people know the real me.]

“You mean the real you is the guy who livestreamed his masturbation diary every day?”

[People relieve stress in different ways. Better than you spamming the board with idiotic soccer posts.]

“Take that back.”

[You’ll probably be the first to hear and meet the other three before I do. When that happens…]

“If I find out for sure, I’ll obviously let you know.”

—KWA-A-A-ANG!

A distant explosion made Chuk Shin-do knit his brows slightly.

Someone else had interfered in Hyun-ya and the Battle Saint’s deadly game of tag.

That shockwave…

‘That lunatic Golden Wheel Dharma King again.’

What a heretical bastard.

Chuk Shin-do clicked his tongue.

[Any new information about the Church of Order?]

“None. That old geezer Alfreon has to know something…”

The only reason Chuk Shin-do was struggling in Bernok right now was because of Alfreon’s request-that-wasn’t-quite-a-request.

“What about you? Hear anything?”

[One thing. It’s not about where the Order’s sanctuary is, so don’t get your hopes up.]

“What? Really? What is it?”

[This is top secret…]

Even as a Martial Zenith, Chuk Shin-do couldn’t access secrets reserved only for the highest-ranking clergy of the major sects.

He swallowed and waited.

[Letters from the Church of Order have arrived to the High Priests of the Union Churches.]

“Don’t tell me they’re asking for the Union expulsion order to be lifted?”

[No. They’re asking that, for the time being, their believers be careful with their words and conduct.]

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

[Public… and private settings included. Believers whose words carry weight are to refrain from insulting the Church of Order.]

Chuk Shin-do tilted his head at the cryptic phrasing. Allen sighed lightly and added,

[The Calamity Star has left the sanctuary.]

Only then did Chuk Shin-do understand.

His eyes widened.

“What…?”

[That’s why they’re warning people. That crazy woman is violence even the Order can’t control. And after the Union expulsion, she’s probably got plenty of resentment toward other churches. It’s basically telling them not to flap their mouths and get beaten to death.]

“Is she… coming here?”

Chuk Shin-do swallowed.

There were even rumors that the reason the Battle Saint rampaged like a mad dog in Roberk with his entire body wrapped in bandages was because, twenty years ago, he had been beaten half to death by the Calamity Star.

Chuk Shin-do himself had met her once.

It had been before he reached Martial Zenith—back when he was stuck at Sixth Rank.

Even then, he had been the most famous possessor in the world, treated as an honored guest by the Orthodox Heaven Alliance and occasionally sent to eliminate demonic cultivators upon request.

That day had been no different. Some bastard had committed slaughter in Alliance territory and fled, and Chuk Shin-do had gone out partly to vent his frustration at hitting a wall in his cultivation.

That was when he met her.

A silver-haired woman in pure white priestly robes stood before what had once been a human lump of flesh, eyes closed in prayer.

She beat him.

He didn’t know why.

The Calamity Star wasn’t the type to explain herself.

Chuk Shin-do resisted desperately—but at the time, his Full-Moon Slaughtering Art was no match for her fists.

‘Please continue walking the righteous path as you are now!’

Only after he was left sprawled on the ground, drenched in blood, had she said that.

Continue walking the righteous path? That implied he hadn’t done anything wrong.

So why had she beaten him?

He still didn’t know.

—

—

 

The beggars collapsed in their den.

This wasn’t just any beggar den—it was a branch hall of the Beggars’ Sect.

And the fallen beggars weren’t mere vagrants—they were disciples of the branch.

Men who had practiced martial arts far more than they had begged their entire lives. Direct subordinates of the Branch Leader.

Yet among the dozens of them, not a single one remained standing.

The Branch Leader of Uirip, Noh Jin-gae, stood frozen, mouth hanging open.

The Beggars’ Sect’s overwhelming advantage over other sects was sheer numbers.

True, most became beggars and few possessed exceptional talent—but the elite selected from that overwhelming pool all surpassed mid–Fifth Rank.

And yet dozens had fallen simultaneously.

They weren’t even visibly beaten down.

Or were they? He had seen it happen with his own eyes—yet couldn’t comprehend it.

“I did not wish for this.”

The woman walking between the fallen beggars shook her head with a sorrowful expression.

“I clearly stated that I had something to ask. That I would only see the Branch Leader briefly and leave. Why did you block me?”

“This is a branch of the Beggars’ Sect.”

Noh Jin-gae swallowed.

“No matter… even if you are the Calamity Star, a Martial Zenith… to come unannounced is to disregard the Beggars’ Sect…”

“You misunderstand gravely! I, Lorellia, do not disregard the Beggars’ Sect. If I truly did, I would not have declared my purpose first—nor would I have subdued them without bloodshed.”

Her bright smile returned.

Noh Jin-gae squeezed his eyes shut.

“We… appreciate your mercy.”

“Ah! You noticed!”

“So… what business brings you to seek this beggar?”

“There is something I wish to know!”

Until a few days ago, she had been in the Punishment Hall of the Sanctuary.

She had been thinking it was time to leave.

Two years of wall-facing meditation had borne fruit. Beyond this point, further insight would not come merely from staring at walls.

After reaching that conclusion, she spent time reviewing those two years and organizing her realizations.

When that period ended, she listened to news of the outside world from other priests.

One of the detestable Evil God’s Saints had fled in a state so miserable death would have been preferable.

The one who had earned great merit in that praiseworthy deed was a young Dragon who had recently gained fame.

She recalled the conversation they had shared before parting in the waiting hall.

If fate allowed, they would meet again someday.

If her interest was piqued, she might seek him out herself.

“I have heard that the young hero who delivered divine punishment to the Evil God’s cur on my behalf has crossed into the East.”

She smiled radiantly.

“In place of the slumbering Goddess of Order, I wish—most earnestly!—to personally express my gratitude. Would you kindly tell me the path I must take, so that I, Lorellia, may go to him?”

She had not expected she would go to meet him so soon.