Martial Arts Returnee’s Game Broadcast

Chapter 75



Chapter 75

Four weeks had passed since the Silent Sword Master’s recruitment notice.

“Are they actually going to hire anyone?”
“They haven’t picked anyone, but the number of applicants keeps growing.”
“Seriously, is this some kind of sadistic idle game outside of the main stream?”

The cruelty of the Silent Sword Master was starting to unsettle the applicants.

[You’ve received a mass email from the Silent Sword Master.]

An event big enough to shake the Awakener community was announced.

[Announcement of the Silent Sword Master’s Martial Arts Tournament]

  • Date: This Saturday, 10:00 AM
  • Location: (View Detailed World Address)
  • Number of Positions: 1
  • Participants in the C-Class Awakener Recruitment Notice: 485

“It’s here!!!”
“What the hell? A martial arts tournament now?”
“Holy crap, 485 people applied?”
“No wonder it took so long.”
“Wait, so only one winner gets picked and the rest are out?”
“Are you kidding me? A tournament without a prize pool?”
“Why not just draw lots? Instead, she’s turning her viewers into a gladiator pit.”

The Awakeners, who had been waiting for a month with no updates, vented their frustration at the late notice.

“Huh? The tournament location is some ‘world’ address?”
“Looks like it’s in virtual reality.”
“Oh, I thought we were fighting in person for a second.”
“Well, if it’s virtual, we just need to adjust the synchronization rate. Not bad.”
“True. I mean, she is a streamer, after all.”
“I don’t usually play games, but maybe I’ll give it a shot this time.”

Some participants, intrigued by the virtual reality setting, decided to give it a try.

“But doesn’t it still hurt the same? I heard the post-death penalties can be brutal.”
“Hey, if you don’t want to go, don’t. I’ll go alone.”
“I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to…”

“Didn’t you have plans this weekend?”
“Yeah, I’m canceling them.”

“Weren’t you supposed to go on a blind date?”
“Between walking into a landmine of a blind date and joining the Silent Sword Master’s martial arts tournament? Obvious choice.”
“Why even ask? Of course, the tournament! But hey, isn’t the blind date a landmine because of, uh… your face? Wait, no, don’t pick that up! Sis, people die when they get hit with fireballs!”

As the tournament day approached, people couldn’t resist their excitement, and by the day of the event, the venue was packed with participants.

“Hey, isn’t that Kim Je-cheol from the Andong Sword Clan?”
“Look at the guy in the traditional hat and hanbok. Yeah, it’s him.”
“Whoa, who’s that killer-looking woman over there?”
“Dude, turn your head away right now. Don’t you recognize Snake Eyes Lee So-hye? A whole truckload of idiots disappeared in gates trying to mess with her.”
“Oh, there’s the Changwon Guild’s infamous trio.”
“Ha! Rumor has it their higher-ups are threatening to beat them up if they don’t win this tournament.”
“Honestly, you’re supposed to enter solo for these kinds of events.”

With such a large crowd, the range of participants was diverse, including some particularly noteworthy Awakeners.

Participant No. 37: Kim Je-cheol, Andong Sword Clan.

Kim Je-cheol, known for wearing hanbok every single day of the year, shouted as soon as he saw the Silent Sword Master.

“My soulmate is here!”

Gold diggers who chased after him for his money weren’t uncommon, but none of them had ever captured his heart. It wasn’t because their figures were lacking or their greed was off-putting.

“I want to see her in a hanbok! No, I want to personally take it off after dressing her in one!”

A woman who could perfectly pull off the dull attire of a warrior’s robe, looking as though she had stepped straight out of a historical drama, in a slit hanbok?
To Kim Je-cheol, a hanbok enthusiast, the idea was irresistible.
He vowed to win the tournament and confess to the Silent Sword Master.

“You’re insane.”

Participant No. 84, Snake Eyes Lee So-hye, glared at him with disdain.

A freelance Awakener registered with the association, she often soloed gates.
She was notorious for taking down countless would-be predators who assumed a solo female Awakener was an easy target.

“What’s the big deal between my hanbok and his warrior robe?”

Though her words were harsh, Lee So-hye had a soft spot for romance.
She had fallen for Kim Je-cheol after he defended her in a gate, cutting down a group of attackers who claimed women belonged in the kitchen, only to walk off afterward as if it were nothing.

“Does this really not suit me?”

Lifting the hem of her modernized hanbok and glancing at her leg line, she was objectively attractive. But her outfit failed to meet Kim Je-cheol’s specific aesthetic preferences, and he had rejected her five times.
Her reason for joining the tournament was, of course, that Kim Je-cheol was participating.
She also wanted to see just how impressive this Silent Sword Master was, who had apparently captivated him.

“Get lost, idiots.”
“Nina, don’t come near me.”
“This is so embarrassing. Ugh...”

Even Lee So-hye’s determination couldn’t compare to the desperation of three men:
Participants No. 92, 93, and 94—the infamous "Troublemaker Trio" of the Changwon Guild: Ahn Chang-yoon, Kim Gil-tae, and Lee Jung-yi.

“Why the hell did you follow me and sign up?!”
“Anything you do, I can do better.”
“I was just trying to score points with the guild for external activities, and now this? What a disaster…”

The three who had joined the guild around the same time were often compared to each other, which frequently led to conflicts and strained relationships.
Ahn Chang-yoon had entered the tournament out of pure admiration, but upon learning about it, Kim Gil-tae joined with the intent to humiliate him by beating him in the tournament.
Then, upon hearing that his two peers were participating, Lee Jung felt pressured, worrying he would fall behind in external activity scores if he didn’t participate as well, and hastily followed suit.

“Damn it, these leeches can’t even justify their signing bonuses, yet they cling to me like barnacles.”

The problem was that the trio’s recent performance within the guild had been subpar.
Word of them slacking off together spread to the guild executives, leading to ridicule from outsiders and harsh criticism from within, turning them into punching bags for everyone’s frustrations.
To make matters worse, the executives set strict conditions for their participation in the tournament:

  1. The top performer among them would receive bonus points on their performance review.
  2. The other two would face three months of reduced pay and penalties on their reviews.

Having joined the tournament with nothing but admiration, Ahn Chang-yoon now had to risk everything in a fight, leaving him no choice but to curse under his breath.

“Wow, look at the lineup here.”
“No kidding. Even outside, there are people we’d rather not cross paths with.”

Woo Ji-woo and So Kyung-seok, two C-Class Awakeners who had been early recruits for Hae Eung-eung’s guild and were serving as judges for the tournament, found the participants’ diverse emotions fascinating but merely observed with amusement.

[Begin.]

When the Silent Sword Master raised a placard from her seat of honor, Joo Ah-young stepped up to the podium, took the microphone, and announced in a clear voice:

“Welcome, everyone, to the Silent Sword Master Martial Arts Tournament! I am your host and live commentator for this event…”

She paused, closing her eyes tightly and trembling slightly as if summoning great courage, before shouting with determination:

“I’m JumpingRabbitLoverAhyoung!”

Even before the tournament began, the venue erupted into chaos.

2.

Joo Ah-young protested tearfully.

“Do I really have to say my username, sis?”
[In a martial arts tournament, even the host must reveal their alias to emphasize the event’s significance.]
“There’s nothing significant about an embarrassing username like this!”

JumpingRabbitLoverAhyoung.

Having logged into the virtual world for the first time in a while, Joo Ah-young was so mortified by her username that she covered her flushed face with her hands.

“I’m changing it! I can’t possibly reveal such a humiliating username in front of everyone!”
[Disappointing.]
“Huh? Sis?”

Hae Eung-eung, typically stoic and reserved, rarely showing emotion, suddenly displayed a stern expression that startled Joo Ah-young.

[Names carry the emotions and memories from when they were created. Rejecting them out of embarrassment is like denying yourself.]
“Ugh… That’s not fair. How can you say something so profound right now? Do you just want to see me humiliated?”
[Why did you choose that username in the first place?]

Joo Ah-young hesitated briefly before recalling a memory.

“When I was young and living in an orphanage…”

During a government project testing virtual adaptation rates, young Joo Ah-young had achieved a remarkable synchronization rate of 20%, garnering attention from officials.
Unfortunately, her high rate only occurred when she played the game Jumping Rabbit.

“There was a rabbit I raised at the orphanage. It was such a sweet little thing, but one night a monster got into the pen and… tore it apart.”

On the day her beloved rabbit died, leaving her heartbroken, a game appeared like fate. That game was Jumping Rabbit.

“People called it trash or a rage-inducing game, but to me, it was pure joy. I could see my little bunny again, and even become the bunny, hopping all over. How could I not love it?”

Her shame slowly gave way to fondness and longing for her pet rabbit, Tto-soon, and the memories tied to it.

“You’re right, sis.”

Joo Ah-young reflected deeply.

“Even if it’s a bit embarrassing, I don’t want to deny my past. If I change my username, there’ll come a day when I forget Tto-soon. I don’t want to experience the pain of feeling like I’ve become someone unrecognizable to myself.”

Her heartfelt words softened Hae Eung-eung’s expression, and she affectionately patted Joo Ah-young on the head, praising her resolve.

“Then what about your username, sis? What’s the story behind it?”

Joo Ah-young’s sudden question caught Hae Eung-eung off guard. She averted her eyes awkwardly.

Both the origins of “Silent Sword Master” and “Hae Eung-eung” stemmed from the same incident—
A late night of overwhelming impulses and a poorly thought-out, risqué character name for an R-18 gacha game.
It was a truth she would never, under any circumstances, reveal.

“Ah! That’s not fair! Tell me! Leaving me out is so unfair!”
“…”
“If you keep this up, I’ll change my username after all!”

Joo Ah-young only calmed down after Hae Eung-eung recounted the story of Anhui’s Finest Sword, a martial artist whose name was tragically “AngKimoDdiOhJiGoJiRiGoLetItGo.”
The tale of someone who lived on despite such a painfully unfortunate name managed to restore her sense of humor.


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