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In South Korea, there are three things that every man knows well — One is the military. One is gaming. And the other, the phenomenon of possession.
In that sense, Lee Min-ho — no, Deus — decided to accept reality.
No matter how much time passed, nothing changed.
This world was not the place he had lived in.
He was convinced that he had transmigrated into a novel he had read the previous day.
But why did he transmigrate in the first place? What was the reason?
『 Author-nim, not using indentations is a bit inconvenient, you know. 』
Deus clutched his face with his hands. Sure enough, that comment must have been the original sin.
Still, it was a bit unfair. The main story's atmosphere was so serious, he just wanted to lighten the mood a bit; he even used a cute emoticon to make it clear he wasn't trying to start a fight.
Yet the author failed to grasp the reader's deeper intent and transmigrated him outright. This was going too far!
Anyway, he had become a transmigrator in a novel.
As proof of this, there was something that had been floating around in his head since a while ago.
「Please set your Oath.」
In the novel he had read the previous day, the protagonist also used Oaths.
The stronger the Oath, the more restrictions he would receive, but he would also receive greater power — a double-edged sword; once you carve it, you must keep it at all costs. A cursed vow that you must follow.
Deus quickly racked his brain.
The novel he had transmigrated into. The one he had been reading yesterday. The one he had commented on.
《Gate Opening on the First Day of the Mercenary Corps》
{T/L :- typical japanese novel title}
A fantasy apocalypse genre where gates open in a fantasy world and monsters pour out.
A growth story in which the protagonist, who is employed as a mercenary, gradually becomes stronger and eventually becomes the Mercenary King.
A dark fantasy devoid of dreams or hope. Countless people die.
Even the protagonist's companions are no exception - just three days ago, the heroine died in the latest episode.
It was harrowing even just looking at it in text, but now he had to experience it firsthand.
He had to survive. At the very least, he didn't want to die a wretched, agonizing death like them.
"An Oath, huh..."
Sitting down, Deus thought of the protagonist of the novel.
The Oaths he used. The vow that restricted him but also protected him.
How should he go about it? What kind of Oath would be effective?
'I've decided.'
Deus clenched both hands in his mouth and bit down hard, growling.
Just like the protagonist did in the novel.
Though he was a mere extra, he had to do it in order to survive —
— no, with the belief he could save this world devoid of even a shred of hope:
"I shall wield no weapon."
One of the problems with the novel's setting — the enemies aren't just monsters from beyond the gate; there were also traitors lurking, ready to strike from behind at any moment.
***Chi-ik!***
With his bleeding left index finger, he carved the first Oath on his right arm.
Now he cannot wield any weapon.
Instead, as long as he keeps this oath, no weapon can harm him.
"I shall receive no aid in my battles."
As is always the case in apocalypses and dark fantasies, everyone who comes to help dies.
Deus disliked that. He wanted to draw a happy ending in this novel.
Even though he had transmigrated, it was still a story he cherished dearly.
This time, with a determined grip, Deus etched the second Oath onto his left arm, using his right index finger.
From this moment forward, he would forgo any form of meaningful assistance.
In return, he would be granted the strength to overcome any obstacle alone.
"I shall..."
With a solemn voice, he uttered the final Oath, tracing a bloodline along his neck; it resembled a hangman's noose around his throat.
"...not turn a blind eye to the misfortune of the righteous."
In the face of an apocalypse, survival hinged on one crucial principle: aligning oneself with those worthy.
Win their hearts, earn their favor, and stay as their comrade.
From now on, he would become the guardian angel protecting all good people.
From now on, he would be the angel of judgment for all the wicked.
"These three are my Oaths."
I shall wield no weapon.
I shall receive no aid in battle.
I shall not turn a blind eye to the misfortune of the righteous.
For hastily made Oaths, he thought he did quite well.
He thought it was worth reading the novel so earnestly.
「Your Oaths are far too heavy in burden, of high magnitude.」
"...Huh?"
That strange phrase appeared again before he could think further.
'What is this? Too heavy a burden? The protagonist used similar Oaths just fine, didn't he?'
Could it be because he was possessed as a complete extra with no importance?
Or did he simply snatch up Oaths meant for the protagonist?
As he hurriedly tried to think of different Oaths, the next line appeared in his mind:
「Considering that, you will be given preparation time to uphold the Oaths.」
Deus was taken aback by this unprecedented development in the novel; after a moment of bewilderment, he dismissed his confusion.
If they're giving him time to train, he should be grateful!
Before transmigrating, he was originally an amateur martial artist himself.
For someone who dreamed of going professional, physical training was a daily routine.
Deus devoted himself solely to training. To honing his body.
As if by the grace of his transmigrator status, his every desire was materialized.
A state-of-the-art training facility, a meticulously planned diet, and even lifelike sparring partners materialized.
By the time he lost sense of how much time had passed,
When his body was packed with pure, 100% combat muscles,
"My preparations are complete."
Let's do this — survive this apocalyptic world destruction.
Survive in this apocalypse with confidence.
With a self-assured smile, the transmigrator tore through space and emerged.
• • • ₪ • • •
"Attention, Class."
"""Yes! Addressing the teacher, salute!"""
A physique that bulged at the seams, a face tanned to a dark brown, and scars etched here and there on his forearms; truly the epitome of ruggedness. Yet no student was intimidated.
Contrary to his appearance, he was an extremely kind teacher. No wonder his nickname was 'Bambi Eyes'.
{T/L :- What does it mean to have Bambi eyes? It means they're brown, dreamy, and cute.}
"Is this the second week of the new semester? It's another beautiful morning. Let's start with roll call."
As each student's name was called, they responded accordingly.
Some were nobles with surnames. Others were commoners without.
All of them were here as students, regardless of their social status.
There was no distance between them.
Nobles would talk to commoners, and commoners would talk to nobles without hesitation.
The reason was simple: they had something in common, even though their social statuses were different.
"Lady, I trust you have done your homework today."
"You're killing me, seriously. Didn't I tell you not to call me that?"
A noble girl's index finger flickers with a red flame.
It wasn't magic but rather the Pyrokinesis ability.
"Oh, I didn't bring my pen. Does anyone have a spare pen I can borrow?"
"Just be honest. You're not a noble, are you? How do you keep forgetting daily?"
When the commoner girl gestured, a pen rose from her desk and floated over. Upon seeing this, the noble male student who claimed to have forgotten his pen exclaimed, "As expected, the telekinesis ability is the best!" and chuckled.
Esper abilities. This was an Ivory Tower for those who wield such mystical forces.
"Erica Leblanc."
"Here."
"Marian."
"Present!"
The students' chatter, as if finding it cute, continued, while the muscular bambi-eyed teacher silently continued the attendance.
Then, reaching a certain name, he lifted his head and glanced towards the back of the classroom.
"Deus."
In response to the bambi-eyed teacher's attendance call, a male student sitting at the back tentatively raised his hand; he was a head taller than the other boys, and his body was impossible to hide even with his clothes.
He simply raised his hand, no posturing, yet the curves of his muscles stood out starkly; the uniform buttons look ready to pop off at any moment.
He was an overwhelmingly imposing young man.
Someone who seemed to embody the essence of martial arts itself.
Even his gaze was so intense that it made anyone who looked at him feel a shiver down their spine.
In front of him, even skilled knights might hesitate to draw their swords.
"Deus. Still no plans to join the martial arts club?"
"I apologize, teacher. I haven't made up my mind yet."
"Hmm. I see. Well, if you change your mind, please be sure to let me know."
The swordsmanship club advisor kept belittling our martial arts club, even though he didn't have to; he had to resist the urge to immediately grab Deus' hand and sincerely beg him to join.
"Alright then. Let's begin our literature class. The nice weather makes it a great day to appreciate some poetry."
"Ohhhhh!"
"Bambi Eyes teacher ! Please recite a poem for us!"
"Should I? Hmm, hmm. Alright, let's see. The poem we'll study today is―"
To think that this muscle macho teacher would be called Bambi-eyes and a literature teacher of all things.
At first glance, he looked like a mercenary captain harvesting orc heads somewhere.
Today, Deus, who had refused the martial arts club invitation again, sighed. As he turned his head, he saw a variety of flowers blooming in the courtyard.
Spring. A beautiful season. The beginning of everything. A new school year, a new semester.
What better embodiment of a world brimming with dreams and hopes than this?
'That's right. A place full of dreams and hopes.'
***Grip!—***
Ah, squeezed too hard. The brand new grip strength trainer he just bought is in pieces.
Aren't these popular among martial artists? How can it be so flimsy?
'Got ripped off, damn it.'
If a merchant heard this, they would have rebutted, ‘What nonsense.’
It was a tool favored by top-notch martial artists.
Seeing this young customer, he assumed he was surely one of them.
So he offered the lowest possible price, only to be called a ripoff!
"Ah! Spring! You leave behind only your fragrance as you depart!"
"Ohhhhhhh!!"
The muscular macho teacher passionately recited poetry.
The students send playful cheers from their seats. Even various flowers swaying in the spring breeze.
To make the conclusion clear — the world did not fall into ruin.
Not that it 'hasn't ruined yet', but rather 'it was never fated for ruin' to begin with.
For this world simply was not destined for such an apocalypse.
End of Chapter. . . . . . . .Thanks for Reading. . . . . . . . .
Translator's Notes:-
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