1.

Even if she only wanted to think of herself as a martial artist, there were unavoidable moments when she became acutely aware of herself as a woman.

Her reset body.

The sublime state.

The discomfort she felt when training to bridge the gap between the two—was the bouncing of her chest.

‘I regret customizing this chest so much.’

She had adjusted her chest herself, with the simplistic idea that a woman’s chest should be moderately large.

If only it weren’t attached to her own body, that would have been better.

Now, the female breasts that were hers were nothing but burdensome lumps of fat that weighed down her shoulders and quickly exhausted her.

They obstructed her view of her feet in a straight stance.

They disrupted her sense of balance.

And they hindered her training.

‘I need to buy more bandages.’

She had spent 20 years in the savage world of Murim, overcoming difficulties by wrapping her chest tightly with cloth.

Of course, in modern Earth, better alternatives existed than random torn cloth pieces.

‘The pharmacy. I’m sure they sell compression bandages there.’

Her second destination for the day was set.

After exchanging numbers with Joo Ahyoung, Haeeung asked many questions.

She used the excuse that she was ignorant of worldly matters because of her long period of seclusion in training.

Whether that excuse worked or not, Joo Ahyoung answered earnestly enough.

The reason there were few citizens on the streets.

It wasn’t solely due to gates or monsters.

‘Ah, they did mention that Earth in 2050 is plagued by gaming addiction.’

People weren’t playing games to rest their tired bodies from reality anymore. Instead, they were coming back to reality to rest from games.

The roles of reality and gaming had reversed.

People were trying to spend as much time in the virtual world as possible.

The value of life.

The cultural trends.

Society as a whole no longer viewed people who dedicated their lives to games as nerds or gaming addicts, but as normal people.

In line with such social trends, an unexpected industry was booming.

Ironically, it was pharmacies.

“Can I get some painkillers?”

“How much longer do we have to wait?”

“Damn, I’ll never get used to drowning, no matter how many times it happens.”

“You think that’s bad? Even with 10% synchronization, my skin still gets red and swollen. Burn creams are ridiculously expensive too.”

“Please. Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night choking because you experienced drowning? If I don’t take bronchodilators, I can’t even sleep at night.”

Virtual reality games, which manipulated the senses through brain waves, didn’t exclude the sensation of pain from dying.

Although the real body wasn’t injured, the brain recognized the pain, and that perception affected the physical body.

As a result, pharmacy customers weren’t just flu patients, those with weak immune systems, or elderly people prone to minor illnesses anymore.

It was now gamers suffering from the aftereffects of death.

Fragile players who constantly faced death.

The so-called commoners of the virtual world.

“Hey, hey, look over there.”

“Whoa, that scared me. Could they be an Awakened?”

“Did they get injured while fighting a monster?”

Haeeung’s appearance immediately caught attention.

The gathering gazes were filled with sympathy.

“Well, it makes sense that they’d get hurt often, given the rough work they do, right?”

“Poor thing.”

“No matter how many times you die in the virtual world, the pain they go through in real life can’t even compare.”

“Living through a 100% synchronized reality game.”

“How did we even play such crappy games before the virtual world came out?”

It was bizarre, seeing people suffering from the aftereffects of virtual deaths feeling sorry for someone buying a chest bandage.

Their sincere expressions only made the situation stranger.

For someone with a prickly personality, this might have felt uncomfortable.

But Haeeung, unfazed, took a ticket number and waited for her turn.

These gazes.

This kind of sympathy.

It wasn’t unfamiliar to her.

Even in the world of Murim, there were plenty of commoners who both admired and pitied martial artists.

“Customer number 117.”

Haeeung took her ticket and stood at the counter.

“Do you have a prescription?”

“…”

“What brings you in today?”

Haeeung handed over a small notebook where she had written in advance.

“Oh, I see. You’re buying a compression bandage. Could you let me know where you plan to use it? The law recently changed, and pharmacies are required to record the intended use of purchased items to prevent misuse.”

The pharmacy clerk was a woman with her hair tied in a ponytail.

She wore a pure white medical coat and thick glasses, her expression kind.

Judging by her appearance, it didn’t seem like she was asking out of any ill intentions.

If the law demanded it, Haeeung had no choice but to comply.

She calmly explained her intended use of the compression bandage.

[I’m buying it to bind my chest.]

The pharmacist smiled but asked again for clarification.

“Ah, I see. So, you’re saying that you need the bandage because the wound from a previous surgery has opened and needs to be wrapped again, correct?”

[No. I’m buying it to bind my chest so it doesn’t get in the way.]

The pharmacist’s smile suddenly stiffened.

“Why?”

[Chest coverings don’t have enough control to keep my chest from bouncing.]

It was a straightforward, even crude, explanation—surprisingly direct for a woman.

The pharmacist’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Looking around at the other customers nervously, she leaned in close and whispered.

“Uh… Ma’am? If that’s the case, wouldn’t a sports bra be more helpful?”

[Just give me the compression bandage.]

“Are you sure? Is it okay if I enter that into the system?”

With a dissatisfied expression, Haeeung tapped the notebook with her hand, signaling her impatience.

Seeing her protest, the pharmacist, still unsure if this was right, hesitantly handed over the bandage.

3.

Suddenly, the reason why Haeeung bought the bandages became clear.

There were multiple factors involved.

‘First of all, my uncontrollably bouncing chest gets in the way when using martial arts.’

The first reason was practical, and the next was just as realistic.

The poor quality of clothing materials in the Murim world resulted in bras performing poorly.

If a bra’s support control didn’t exceed 50%, the intense movements of a martial artist would cause the chest ligaments to snap, permanently sagging the breasts.

Sagging breasts not only brought discomfort but also ruined the body’s shape, making it visually unappealing.

Although Haeeung identified more with being a martial artist than a woman, she didn’t see any reason to voluntarily ruin her body.

‘It was good advice to follow the teachings of the female disciples of Hae Nam Sect.’

The tips passed down among the female disciples of her sect had been useful for the past 20 years.

Thanks to them, Haeeung never neglected the practice of wrapping her chest with bandages during her time in the Murim world.

Even her blessing played a role.

The elasticity-enhancing effect provided by the so-called “hentai physics” not only helped with blood circulation but also improved the durability of her chest ligaments, preventing the unfortunate fate of sagging breasts.

‘This has much better control than using ordinary cloth as a bandage.’

Haeeung lightly bounced up and down, feeling the reduced jiggle in her chest.

Her martial artist’s precise body-sensing abilities estimated that the control from the bandages she wrapped herself approached 80%.

‘It’s still not as good as the special bandages made from imperial silkworm silk, though.’

Silk spun from imperial silkworms could be turned into armor when woven into clothing.

If turned into rope, it could even bind a top-tier martial artist.

With special processing, the silk could also be fashioned into throwing weapons before it became fabric.

Its versatility varied depending on how it was used, but its utility was always top-notch.

Even as a chest bandage, its value was immense.

‘But still, this should be sufficient for entering the capsule.’

The last reason she wrapped the bandages around her chest was also practical, but it was the least impressive.

She hoped that by keeping her chest bound in the virtual world, she could avoid the hassle of having to wrap it every time.

That was her shallow plan when she purchased the bandages before undergoing the body scan.

[Starting full-body scan.]

[Please close your eyes and remain still while the scan is in progress.]

Haeeung closed her eyes in a reverent prayer.

Please, let it measure at least one cup size smaller.

The Reality Return Support Package.

Included in the special package she purchased when returning to reality from the Murim world was a standard virtual reality capsule.

She had been quite shocked to learn that even a standard capsule cost over 10 million won.

‘Though I wouldn’t trust a cheap capsule anyway.’

A brainwave-based game with shoddy equipment?

What if the capsule malfunctioned and caused damage to her brain?

She had already spent 20 years in the Murim world because of a computer game malfunction.

What if the capsule broke down while she was playing a virtual reality game?

The thought of spending several more years in another dimension was not one she wanted to entertain.

‘Even so, it’s just an escape.’

The gate…

Monsters.

Awakeners.

Mana stones.

She once ventured out to seek things that might help her enhance her internal energy, but she had since given up on all of that.

This was because of the guild that had taken control of the gate.

After experiencing firsthand how pathetic the members of one such guild, the Myeongho Guild, were, she quickly realized how foolish it was to think of cooperating with them.

‘Entering the gate, hunting monsters, and becoming an Awakener—all of these come with conditions.’

The guild.

The association.

The government.

You had to belong to one of these three organizations and work for their benefit.

In the Murim world’s terms, these organizations corresponded to the following:

A sect.

The Murim Alliance.

The Imperial Guard.

There were benefits to being part of an organization, but it didn’t guarantee personal safety or freedom.

Especially for a newcomer with breathtaking beauty, being part of an organization could be even more dangerous.

‘Attractive men and women are easy targets for power-hungry criminals.’

If she hadn’t been lucky enough to find an organization like the Hae Nam Sect that treated her like family, she would have faced the typical hardships.

Sexual harassment and verbal abuse would be just the start.

There would be jealousy from her peers, threats from superiors or subordinates, and all kinds of schemes, slander, and dirty tricks.

‘Rather than suffer through that, it’s better to just play smart.’

Next month, in mid-October, the association was hosting an event for civilians.

A gate tour.

According to the information from Joo Ahyoung, anyone could participate as long as they had the money.

It was the perfect opportunity to assess the concentration of natural energy inside the gate and see how much it could boost her energy accumulation speed compared to the Murim world.

The Nine Yin Veins.

To cure the most severe type of this condition, she needed 180 years’ worth of internal energy.

Currently, with five years of accumulated power, she needed to gather another 175 years’ worth.

In the Murim world, where the concentration of natural energy averaged 1%, it would normally take 175 years.

But with the Super Ascension Technique, which allowed her to accumulate energy ten times more efficiently, it would only take 17.5 years.

‘If the natural energy inside the gate reaches even 1%, then there’s hope.’

The average lifespan for someone with Nine Yin Veins was 30 years.

She calculated the remaining time she had left, adding in the insurance of the Internal Elixir of Suyanghwari and her knowledge of Nine Yin Veins from the Murim world. With all that combined, she could just barely manage if the gate’s natural energy reached 1%.

But if the concentration of natural energy inside the gate didn’t even come close to 1%…

Then accumulating energy would be meaningless.

No matter how hard she worked to gather internal energy, she wouldn’t be able to escape death.

In that case, it would be better to just enjoy each day while she could.

‘In the end, what I’m doing now is no different from preparing myself for death. I don’t even know if this capsule is a machine or a coffin.’

It was with a somewhat bitter mindset that she had begun using the virtual reality capsule.

And now, inside that pre-prepared coffin, an alert sounded—the scan was complete.

[Full-body scan complete.]

[Registering body information.]

In the vastness of space.

Standing at attention in the middle of it all, Hae Eung-eung found herself.

In front of her stood a full-length mirror, allowing her to examine her character’s status.

“…”

As expected, her voice didn’t come out.

Her mutism was a psychological language disorder.

Even in the virtual world, there were no exceptions.

The voice.

And the next thing that bothered her was, of course, her chest.

Hae Eung-eung lifted her basic T-shirt and examined her bare chest.

She measured the cup size with her hands.

She shook her chest up and down to estimate the weight.

Then, she lightly jumped to assess the level of movement.

‘The weight’s the same, but the size has shrunk.’

The chest no longer interfered with the path of her sword swings.

This was what they called battle-compressed chest.

The chest bandages hadn’t been in vain.