A storm of red blood erupted on the screen.
Chae-ho clicked the mouse and paused the video.
On the desk sat an empty cup noodle container with dried soup stains stuck to it.
He rubbed his dry face with both hands and glared at the monitor.
It was the body cam footage he had recorded inside the Grade E dungeon yesterday.
The glorious record of the first time he had applied his skill in actual combat and wiped out a goblin colony without a single injury.
But Chae-ho's expression as he replayed the footage dozens of times was stiff and serious.
He repeatedly pressed the spacebar and played the video back at 0.25x speed.
It was the scene where two goblins launched an ambush from above and below in the darkness.
The view from the camera attached to his chest briefly moved backward before advancing again.
The sword tip extending into the lower part of the screen pierced the fallen creature's chest, then immediately swept across the neck of the one beside it.
At the scene itself, he had thought it was quite successful.
No, considering he had defeated them without suffering a single injury, it had been an excellent result.
But unlike how it had felt at the time, the shaking of the footage recorded at normal speed and the trajectory of his sword were brutally objective.
"I could have shortened this even more."
When the goblin's blade approached, the floor and the creature captured by the camera moved away by half a step.
It was the brief retreat he had chosen the previous day.
Escaping the attack trajectory had been good, but he had needed to close the distance again for his counterattack.
It was an unconscious survival step left behind by his days as a porter, when even a monster claw brushing against him could cause a fatal injury.
At the time, he had thought that half a step was the best choice.
But watching it again in slow motion, he saw that there was room to move even less while still maintaining safety.
"If I had only twisted my body in place beforehand, it would have been a complete blind spot."
Chae-ho calculated the angle in his mind.
Considering the goblin's shifted center of gravity, he could have avoided it simply by twisting his ankle.
Then there would have been no need to approach again. He could have stabbed directly from his original position.
That unnecessary retreat and advance had wasted precious time.
He opened the notebook on the desk and wrote down numbers.
The skill duration he had felt during actual combat was approximately one second.
What if he had minimized his movement path?
0.6 seconds would have been enough time to read the attack and position himself to evade.
0.4 seconds wasted.
"Crazy. I only get exactly 10 seconds a day, and I wasted it like that."
Others might laugh at him for caring about only 0.4 seconds.
But in a skill that controlled moments where life and death were decided, 0.4 seconds was an enormous resource directly connected to survival.
Chae-ho clicked his tongue and stood up.
The ramen broth had already grown cold, with oil floating on the surface, but his appetite had disappeared long ago.
He put on the old jacket hanging over the chair and picked up the bag containing his cheap equipment.
If he understood it with his head, then he had to rebuild it with his body.
Inside the cave where the cold smell of earth and rotten blood stabbed at his nose.
Chae-ho exhaled roughly and lowered himself into a crouched stance.
"Kieeek!"
A goblin holding a blue-tinted blade charged forward with a scream.
Its crude blade shot straight toward Chae-ho's solar plexus.
Normally, this would have been the moment when he twisted his body and took a large step backward.
His muscles instinctively screamed for retreat.
Suppressing that instinct, Chae-ho clenched his teeth.
Thoom.
Along with a heavy vibration striking his mind, the flow of the world slowed as if trapped in mud.
The wrinkles on the goblin's distorted nose as it charged forward were etched into his retina like a frozen photograph.
Even every yellow droplet of spit thrown into the air was clearly visible.
Chae-ho forced his feet to remain planted on the ground and only slightly twisted his left ankle.
The minimum movement needed to shift his upper body half a step aside.
The goblin's rusted blade passed so close that it brushed against the collar of his jacket.
'Now.'
Skill canceled.
Flash!
In the world returning to normal speed, the creature's failed attack caused its center of gravity to collapse forward.
Because Chae-ho had never stepped back, the distance for his sword strike was perfect.
Without even needing to extend his arm fully, he lightly stabbed forward.
Squelch!
The short thrust of his sword cleanly pierced the goblin's throat.
"Keugh......"
The goblin spilled blood and collapsed face-first onto the ground.
Chae-ho flicked the blood from his wrist and checked the status window before him.
The consumed time was only 0.4 seconds.
It was clearly reduced compared to yesterday's record.
"Haa, haa......"
Heavy breathing escaped him.
It was not simply exhaustion from physical effort.
The process of forcing extreme concentration for a brief moment and releasing it placed tremendous strain on his brain.
A headache that felt as if his skull was splitting apart surged through him, and the muscles in his legs that had forcibly stopped his movement trembled.
"No. I'm still far away."
This was not enough.
He needed to completely erase his survival instincts and, the moment he activated the skill, always step along the path that provided the greatest advantage.
Chae-ho gripped his sword again and walked deeper into the dark cave.
The gleaming eyes of monsters waiting in the darkness welcomed him.
For several days, Chae-ho moved like a madman between deserted low-grade dungeons and old private training facilities operated by the Association.
When he entered the training facility early in the morning, the employee working the shift always greeted him with a puzzled expression.
"Chae-ho Hunter. Are you buying a full-day pass again today?"
"Yes. Room 5 is available, right?"
"It is, but aren't you tired? You've been coming in every morning for days now. The area under your eyes is completely dark."
"I have to work myself to the bone to make a living. When would I even have time to rest?"
Chae-ho answered indifferently while handing over his card.
The employee shook his head after completing the payment.
"Still, don't overdo it. I'm worried the machines in Room 5 are going to break."
"I'll pay for it if they break. Thank you."
After taking the receipt, Chae-ho immediately walked down the hallway toward the training room.
Clatter.
The heavy iron door closed, and Chae-ho placed his equipment bag on the floor in the center of the empty training room.
His goal here was clear.
To shave away every exaggerated movement that appeared when activating the skill.
Whirrrrr.
When he operated the control terminal, the high-speed automatic shooting machine and close-combat training dummy in the corner shook off dust and began moving.
"Start."
Along with a short signal, fist-sized rubber bullets flew out.
At the same time, the dummy's mechanical arm swung a club and approached heavily.
Chae-ho did not dodge.
No, he did not run away.
Thoom.
Time slowed to an extreme.
He scanned the rotation path of the rubber bullets floating in the air and the angle at which the club descended.
Do not retreat.
Only twist the ankle.
Secure the blind spot.
Flash.
The moment the world returned to normal speed, he slightly lowered his body to avoid the club and struck the dummy's joint with a wooden sword.
Bang!
The time he spent activating and deactivating the skill gradually shortened.
0.3 seconds.
0.2 seconds.
Even down to units of 0.1 seconds.
He activated the skill only in the instant before the opponent's attack touched his skin.
When his vision slowed, he found openings.
When he turned the skill off, he immediately drove in a counterattack.
"Ugh."
Every time he twisted his path suddenly, his knee and waist muscles screamed as if they were tearing apart.
Sharp pain spread as if his joints were slipping out of place, and the headaches from forcibly squeezing his concentration never stopped.
At the worst moments, his vision spun and nausea rose.
But he gritted his teeth and did not stop.
'Compared to those absurd loads I carried as a porter, this isn't even pain.'
The days when he trembled behind others and only swung a pickaxe.
The powerless days when he could not even protect his own life if a teammate failed to cover him for a single moment.
Compared to that helplessness, the muscle pain tearing through his body now felt almost like a sweet reward.
Because he could feel that the more he shaved away his own flesh and bone, the sharper the weapon he would use to survive in actual combat became.
***
Before he knew it, several days had passed.
Late at night.
Only dull impact sounds echoed through the empty training facility.
Thud! Thud!
Chae-ho's wooden sword struck the dummy's head and chest in succession.
The unnecessary retreating step he had identified while watching the body cam footage days earlier had disappeared from his movements.
He dodged rubber bullets flying like arrows by slightly tilting his head, and he deflected the dummy's unpredictable attacks by only twisting his shoulder.
Every movement was smooth and concise, as if he were performing a rehearsed choreography.
Not a single drop of unnecessary force was involved.
Beep—.
"All configured training sets have been completed."
The monotonous mechanical voice rang out, and the dark training room lights brightened.
"Haa, haa......"
Chae-ho dropped the wooden sword he was holding onto the floor.
His entire body was drenched in sweat, and a sour odor filled the air.
His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the floor.
He searched through his bag, took out a water bottle, and drank half of it in one go.
The lukewarm water flowed down his burning throat, making his stomach sting.
"I used all the time I can today too."
Chae-ho rubbed his stiff neck and looked up at the ceiling of the training room.
Over several days, he had repeated the split usage requiring extreme concentration hundreds of times.
Now, the sensation of cutting the skill down into 0.1-second intervals had become fairly familiar to his body.
The cowardly survival instincts that had dominated his mind were almost erased.
Even if his life was threatened in actual combat now, he was confident he would no longer make the foolish mistake of creating excessive distance.
"I'm about done and should head home......"
The moment he stood up and began gathering his equipment.
A plain translucent window silently appeared in the air before his eyes.
[Mastery condition has been fulfilled.]
[The total daily usable time of Time Deceleration has increased.]
Chae-ho's eyes widened.
It was only two simple lines of text, but his heart began pounding as if it would strike against his ribs.
He hurriedly reached out and summoned his full status window.
[Skill: Time Deceleration (EX)]
Accelerates perception and thought, causing external movements to be sensed as extremely slow. Actual physical speed does not change.
Total Daily Usage Time: 11 seconds (Remaining: 11 seconds)
"11 seconds."
A voice mixed with disbelief escaped Chae-ho's mouth.
The total usage time, which had definitely been 10 seconds, had increased by exactly one second.
The limit had increased as the usage time reset after midnight.
If others saw it, they might laugh at the number.
He had worked himself half to death for days just to gain one second?
What could he even do with such a short amount of time?
But Chae-ho was different.
He knew the weight of that one second better than anyone.
'0.5 seconds is enough.'
Enough time to perfectly read a surprise attack coming from an unexpected angle and claim the blind spot.
With the unnecessary movements he had now removed, even 0.4 seconds would be enough for the current Chae-ho to cut down an enemy's neck.
In other words, the additional one second was not merely an increase in numbers.
It meant two more chances to overcome deadly crises in actual combat, and two more opportunities to decisively finish off enemies.
To someone else, it might only be the time needed for a single breath.
But to Lee Chae-ho, it was proof of overwhelming growth.
"Hah."
Chae-ho roughly wiped his sweat-covered face.
The headache that felt as though his head would explode and the muscle pain that made his joints feel like they would break seemed to wash away in an instant.
He stared intensely at the number 11 floating in the air and tightened his clenched fist.
The result of silently enduring bloody battles and training had returned as a clear reward.
It was not a stroke of luck handed to him for free.
It was a true weapon he had created by carving himself down and refining himself.
A deep smile spread across Chae-ho's lips as he slung the equipment bag over his shoulder.
"Tomorrow should be more fun."
After catching his rough breath, Chae-ho's footsteps lightly headed out of the training facility.