Shin Ji-Hoon had always prided himself on his vast knowledge of manhwas, web novels, and isekai tropes. But reality? That was a different beast entirely.
Yet, as he watched those two cultivators move like phantoms, their robes fluttering, swords gleaming under the setting sun—something clicked. The way they talked, the way they carried themselves, the sheer unreal nature of their movements...- It all made sense now.
His mouth slowly fell open. "Wait... wait-wait-wait..." His voice trembled with growing realization. His breath quickened. "Cultivators... Sects... Martial Arts... Qi..."
His pupils dilated. "I'M IN A MURIM WORLD?!"
Excitement surged through him like an electric current. His body trembled—not with fear, but with something far more dangerous. Delusion , He slowly start getting on the delusion of being in fantasy world! He clenched his fists, his entire being vibrating with unearned confidence. "If I got transmigrated, then that must mean—"
A mad grin spread across his face as he puffed out his chest and bellowed to the heavens:
"I'M THE CHOSEN ONE!"
Silence
A bead of sweat dripped down his temple. "Alright, next step is to check it again." He cleared his throat and raised his hands dramatically.
"SYSTEEEMMM! MY GOLDEN FINGERRRR!!"
Nothing happen and he blinked .
"Uh... Stats Window? Character Panel? Main Quest? Hidden Bloodline Awakening? Supreme Senior guiding me from the void?!"
Still nothing.
A chill ran down his spine. "No, no, no… don't tell me I got the 'Poor Orphan with No Cheats' route—this must be a bug!" But before he could spiral further into self-pity, a voice interrupted his breakdown.
"Hey, did you hear that?"
"Yeah… sounds like some crazy guy yelling."
"But what if he saw our deal? We can't let this leak. Go and check it out!"
"huh . . What and Why should I?"
"Master made me the leader for this mission. Do you think he will be happy if this gets leaked to the other sect?"
"Ugh… fine. I'll check it out."
Here shin finally stopped his theatrics, only to feel an ominous chill creep up his spine. He swallowed. "Wait… why do I feel like I just triggered a death flag?"
A second later, he noticed something horrifying. One of the cultivators had vanished. "H-Huh? Where did he—"
Before he could finish his thought, he felt an intense killing intent lock onto him. Then, a shadow blurred into his vision. A man was charging at him at inhuman speed. Shin's face drained of color. "W-WHY IS HE RUNNING AT ME?!"
Shin's Panic mode got activated. He turned and bolted in the opposite direction, arms flailing wildly. "DON'T KILL ME! I DON'T EVEN HAVE A SYSTEM YET!"
But it was pointless. Before he could take ten steps, a firm grip latched onto his collar, yanking him back like a misbehaving puppy.
Shin kicked and struggled wildly. "LET ME GO, YOU NPC! I SWEAR I'M JUST A PASSERBY! A BACKGROUND CHARACTER!"
The cultivator frowned, examining him. The boy's clothes were ragged, but his features and mannerisms screamed nobility—albeit a very weird one.
"Is he… an idiot?" the man muttered.
"Oi, don't call me an idiot! I can hear you!" Shin protested, but the cultivator ignored him.
The man's gaze darkened. "If he's the son of a magistrate, this could be trouble…" His grip tightened. "Better to silence him now."
Shin's struggling immediately ceased. "…Wait. What?" His eyes darted around. "H-Hold on. Let's not be hasty! I can be useful! I can cook, I can clean, I can—uh—sing Murim's Got Talent-worthy songs! You need a mascot for your sect? I'M YOUR GUY!"
But got no response.
Shin gulped. "I'm… I'm about to die, aren't I?"
And yet, as he finally stared at the young cultivator—tall, sharp-featured, dressed in elegant robes—Shin's eyes sparkled with admiration. "Wow! He looks exactly like a Young Master from a sect! This guy is definitely a famous side character!"
Even in this life-threatening situation, Shin remained trapped in his own delusions—firmly believing himself to be the main character. The man in front of him? Just another minor character in his destined journey to greatness.
The cultivator, however, was not amused. With a cold gaze, he drew his sword and pressed it against Shin's neck. "Brat, are you spying on us?"
For a brief moment, Shin's brain short-circuited. Then, like a true survivor, his instincts kicked in. "Wow… a real sword! A genuine, bonafide, cultivator's sword!" he muttered, eyes gleaming.
The cultivator's brow twitched dangerously. "What did you just say?"
Shin snapped out of his awe and put on his most innocent grin. "Ahaha! Nothing, nothing at all, Young Master!"
The man's expression darkened. "Young Master?"
Shin quickly nodded, playing along with his own nonsense. "Of course! Someone as noble and dignified as you must be a powerful Young Master of a great sect!"
The cultivator's grip on his sword tightened slightly. "You think flattery will save you?"
Shin gulped. "Flattery? No, no! It's the truth! The moment I saw you, I knew—destiny has entwined our fates!"
The cultivator narrowed his eyes. "Destiny?"
Shin nodded sagely. "Yes. You, a mighty cultivator, and me, a lost soul in need of guidance… isn't this the classic setup for a master-disciple relationship? Fate has already spoken!"
For a moment, there was silence. Then, the cultivator exhaled through his nose and sheathed his sword. "…Are you an idiot?"
Shin gasped, clutching his chest as if struck by lightning. "Wait—this is the legendary 'Are you an idiot?' scene! Does this mean… I'm the comic relief?! No! I refuse!"
The cultivator ran a hand over his face, looking like he was debating whether killing Shin was worth the effort. "Enough. If you're just some forest brat, I have no reason to waste my time."
Shin dusted himself off, feeling victorious. "Alright then! But remember, Young Master! This is only our first meeting. Destiny has already decided that we will cross paths again!"
Without even looking back, the cultivator muttered under his breath. "I sincerely hope not."
Shin grinned, watching him leave. "Heh. Just you wait, side character! You will remember me!"
Before the cultivator could leave, he paused and glanced back. "Wait. What were you yelling earlier?"
Shin hesitated, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Uh… should I really say it, Young Master?"
The cultivator raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Speak."
Taking a deep breath, Shin clenched his fists and yelled at the top of his lungs—this time, in English.
"SYSTEMMM! YOU MOTHERFU—ARE YOU LISTENING?! SYSTEM, MY GOLDEN FINGERRR!!!"
Panting, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Huff… huff…"
The cultivator stared at him, expression unreadable. "What… the hell… was that?"
Shin quickly regained his composure. "Ahaha! You wouldn't understand, Young Master. It's… a divine prayer."
The cultivator frowned. "A prayer?"
Shin nodded solemnly. "Yes. In my homeland, 'System' is our god, and we pray to him in hopes of meeting someone like you!"
The cultivator stroked his chin, as if considering it seriously. "I see… a prayer, huh? Hmph. Strange, but whatever. Just don't go yelling it in the middle of nowhere. Some people in this world enjoy killing for fun, and with that weak body of yours, you'd be dead before you finish shouting your so-called prayer."
Shin smirked. "Like I'd take advice from a side character like you."
As the cultivator turned to leave, Shin muttered under his breath i(n English), "Go to hell, you motherf—"
The cultivator glanced back. "What?"
Shin, without missing a beat, shouted, "Prayer! Prayer!" and then added (in English), "D*-head!"**
The cultivator nodded thoughtfully. "Huh. Strange prayer. 'D*-head,' was it? I'll remember that."
Shin barely held back his laughter as the cultivator walked off, repeating the words under his breath. "Syustum… and D*-head… what a bizarre prayer."
Once the cultivator disappeared, Shin collapsed onto the ground, clutching his stomach as he cackled. "Hahaha! That idiot is probably going to walk around telling people 'D*-head' thinking it's some divine chant!"
But after a few moments, the reality of his situation hit him again. "Alright. Now that it's confirmed—this really is Murim." Rubbing his growling stomach, he muttered, "Time to sneak into the city and find something to eat."
He scratched his head. "Where would I get food, though? Oh yeah! I still have that golden ring! Maybe I can trade it for some food."
With the knowledge he gathered from books and games, he knew better than to wander into dangerous places. So, he waited until evening, when the crowds would thin. When the time was right, he stripped off his outer clothes, keeping only his trousers to make himself look like a beggar. "Perfect disguise!"
Finally reaching the town, Shin's eyes widened at the sight before him. The architecture, the people, the bustling streets—it all felt strangely familiar, yet so different.
But what truly caught his attention was the fact that everyone carried a weapon. Even an old shopkeeper lady, whose hands trembled so much she looked like she could drop dead any second, had a dagger strapped to her waist.
Shin gulped. "Holy sh*t… even granny's packing heat. Someone better tell that old hag she might stab herself with those shaky hands!"
But the very next moment, Shin's jaw nearly hit the floor. A thug tried to snatch something and dash away, but before he could take two steps—
BAM!
The frail-looking old lady moved like lightning, grabbing the thug and slamming him face-first into the ground. The street fell silent as she pinned him down with one hand, her dagger now at his throat. Shin shuddered. "Holy sh*t… good thing she didn't hear me earlier. Note to self—never underestimate the elderly in Murim."
Shaking off the shock, he quickly moved along, blending into the crowd. After wandering the streets for a while, he stumbled upon an old restaurant. An elderly man was wiping down tables, looking like he was about to close up for the night. Shin strolled in and plopped down at a table.
The old man immediately frowned. "Hey, beggar! Can't you see where you're sitting?"
With a smug grin, Shin casually placed a golden ring on the table. "Sir, you shouldn't look down on a valuable customer!"
The old man's eyes narrowed as he picked up the ring, inspecting it closely. After a moment, his expression darkened. "Where did you get this?"
Shin puffed up his chest. "I found it in on street!"
The old man's face suddenly turned cold. "Hah! Street? A beggar? Don't make me laugh. This is fake. Take it and get lost!" He tossed the ring back on the table and went back to wiping down.
Shin's eye twitched. "Fake?! Sir, this is real gold! You must be mistaken!"
But the old man ignored him completely and locked up the restaurant.
Shin clenched his fists, grumbling under his breath. "Go to hell, you motherf—" (in English).
No response.
Frustrated, he wandered through the streets, his upper body exposed to the cold night air. As the wind howled, he curled up, shivering. "Damn it… that old geezer calling my real gold ring fake… just my luck!"
But before he could complain further—
His vision blurred. His legs gave out. "What the he—"
Thud.
Darkness.
A group of masked figures stood over his unconscious body. Among them, the old man from the restaurant sneered. "I told you. The ring is pure gold. There's no way a beggar like him would have something that expensive. He must know something about a hidden treasure!"
His tone turned into flattery. "Now, about that favor I mentioned earlier…?"
One of the masked men spoke coldly. "If your intel is correct, our master will consider it."