Persuading others is not an easy task.
This is because everyone is born different and grows up in different environments.
Just because I don’t hesitate to fight villains or monsters or face extreme situations, doesn’t mean others think the same way.
Such a mindset contains a significant flaw.
“I don’t know what kind of past Kang Han has.”
The only things I know about Kang Han are that he is the protagonist and doesn’t want to hurt others.
In the end, he declared that he would drop out of the academy and live a life far from combat.
Maybe not now, but when the moment comes where it becomes too hard to endure, he will undoubtedly step back from the frontlines.
“Master, what should I do?”
I never thought I’d come looking for the master myself.
He once said to come find him if I felt disheartened by the rupture of my womb, but he warmly welcomed me even though my visit was for a different purpose.
“Is this about Cadet Kang Han?”
“Yes.”
“Come in.”
I know well that it’s not easy to serve tea to an unexpected guest visiting early in the morning.
Watching him bring out tea, I felt a twinge of guilt.
Clink.
A small teacup was placed on the table.
I accepted it.
“Cadet Kang Han said he wouldn’t fight anymore, right?”
“You already knew?”
“I am his instructor, after all.”
As expected, Master Jeong Hye already knew about Kang Han’s situation.
And, like me, he probably hadn’t found an appropriate solution.
Only the person themselves can change their mind.
Others can only give a slight push.
Even a master well-versed in human psychology couldn’t escape this rule.
Concealing my fatigue and disappointment, I asked with a sense of desperation, as if clutching at straws:
“How can I cure Kang Han’s timid nature?”
Master Jeong Hye raised his gaze slightly.
“Timid nature?”
“Isn’t it? He acts as though he couldn’t even harm an ant… Oh, I’m sorry.”
Talking about harming living beings in front of a Buddhist monk—how thoughtless of me.
“Ha-ha, it’s fine. But timid nature… hmm…”
The monk laughed it off lightly, then pondered as if he’d found something amusing in my words.
“Cadet Yidam thinks Cadet Kang Han is timid.”
I nodded.
It was an indisputable fact.
But the monk seemed to think otherwise.
“That’s not true.”
“Excuse me?”
“Cadet Kang Han possesses inherent ferocity and aggression. While I haven’t observed his entire life, I’ve seen countless similar cases of individuals born with a murderous instinct. If I were to guess, Cadet Kang Han has likely been waging a desperate battle to suppress that murderous desire all his life.”
He then mentioned “Cheonsal-seong” (Heavenly Killing Star).
I’d heard of it before, mostly in martial arts novels.
“If you’ve heard of it, this will go quickly. Cheonsal-seong, Hyeongseong (Violent Star)—the names vary, but they all refer to the same thing.”
The monk’s point was clear.
Kang Han was born under the fate of killing.
I already knew this well.
In gaming terms, it was equivalent to having the “Berserker” trait.
“Are you saying Kang Han is desperately holding onto his rationality to suppress his aggression, leaving him no energy to focus on anything else?”
The monk nodded.
Feeling as though I was getting closer to an answer, I became impatient.
I asked immediately.
“Then, are you saying all we need to do is draw out Kang Han’s aggression?”
The monk didn’t reply and only sipped his tea.
It was a silent “no.”
He sighed and sternly warned me.
“Recklessly triggering his aggression could lead to disaster. Doesn’t global history prove this time and again?”
Ninety-nine percent of people who awakened the Berserker trait ended up becoming terrifying serial killers before being subdued.
Of course, cases like Damian and Kang Han, who displayed talent under controlled educational systems, were exceptions.
“Cadet Kang Han’s murderous instincts are far more intense than the reactions shown by Damian, who is currently hailed as the world’s top Berserker, at the same age. I confirmed this in data directly obtained by the academy from German educational facilities.”
The monk shared a stark truth.
“To be honest, even within the academy, opinions are divided over Cadet Kang Han’s fate.”
“His fate?”
“The academy has determined that they cannot control Cadet Kang Han.”
“Sigh.”
I tightly grasped my throbbing forehead.
So this is what happens when a protagonist with a 200% performance capability manifests the Berserker trait.
Whether Kang Han suppresses himself or is suppressed by others, if he can’t prove he’s safe, he won’t just drop out—he’ll be assassinated by the state.
Crack.
My grip on the teacup tightened.
“I’m sure you have a reason for telling an ordinary cadet like me all this, Master.”
“Ha-ha… Cadet Yidam is sharp.”
The monk seemed to be extending a lifeline to me.
I listened carefully.
“Everyone has a first time for everything, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Whatever the experience, the first occurrence is imprinted deeply in the brain and lingers for a long time—almost instinctively. Now, let’s return to something you know well. Recently, Cadet Kang Han completely unleashed his ferocious aggression and drove someone to the brink of death. When was that?”
I fell silent.
I knew exactly who it was.
Barely forming words, I replied.
“Are you saying Kang Han is obsessed with me?”
“Far more intensely than you can imagine. You cannot measure a Berserker’s obsession by normal standards.”
Finally, the monk revealed his true thoughts.
“I debated for a long time whether to entrust you with the leash of someone born with unprecedented murderous instincts in human history. But I couldn’t bring it up—it’s not a proposal to make to a mere 17-year-old child.”
Holding my breath, I listened intently to the monk’s words.
“But now, it seems Cadet Yidam is willing to take on that responsibility.”
What’s the point of saying more?
If I’m the only one who can control the protagonist, then it’s only natural for me to grab hold of the leash.
“Teach me how to control Kang Han.”
The monk spoke earnestly.
“Cadet Yidam, before that, remember this: for a Berserker, emotions like murderous desire, obsession, love, and lust aren’t separate feelings. They’re all lumped together into one messy emotion. And that is directed entirely at you. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
Whether I understood or not didn’t matter—the fact remained that I had to hold the leash.
The monk, seeing my resolve, sighed and said,
“As a monk, it’s not something I should say, but…”
What he said next made me hold my breath.
“There’s only one way for a woman to dominate a man in his prime.”
“Next group, enter!”
The instructor’s shout echoed.
This was the briefing room, where first-year cadets gathered.
It was designed so cadets could watch how other teams completed their tasks in the simulation room.
Today’s task was a raid: a team of five cadets had to take down a large monster.
The type and species of the monster varied by team, so no hints or strategies could be gleaned from observing previous teams.
The focus was on how teammates cooperated and communicated.
Just then, a group of cadets returned to the briefing room, sweating profusely after finishing their simulation.
“Ugh, cough, cough!”
“Phew, I’m dying here!”
“Water… someone, please…”
Their simulation had taken place in a virtual desert.
Their target was a giant scorpion, and judging by their exhausted state, breaking through its hard shell must have been grueling.
Overcome by the desert’s heat, they either collapsed onto the floor or gulped down bottles of water.
“Let’s go. It’s our turn now,” said a girl with a cold expression, looking back at us.
Her long hair swayed as she moved, and I couldn’t help but stare.
‘Wi Seoyeon.’
Like Kang Han and Lee Rasol, she was one of the game’s main characters, a tremendously powerful bombardment-type mage.
To describe her, the term “demanding commander” was most fitting.
No cadet who’d worked on a group project with her had escaped without complaints.
She was as talented as she was notorious for demanding the same level of performance from others.
Naturally, tension was visible on the faces of our team members, who fully expected to be berated by her.
“Man, working with her gets you good grades, but it wrecks your mental state.”
“Just turn off your ego. If you do exactly what she says, you’ll survive somehow.”
“Easier said than done…”
But I didn’t have the bandwidth to spare any thoughts for Wi Seoyeon.
From the start, my entire focus was fixed on one thing.
The far corner of the briefing room.
Kang Han, leaning against the wall with a haggard expression.
His messy bangs covered his eyes as he hung his head low.
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.
‘That guy…’
Kang Han’s team had already completed their simulation earlier.
And they had recorded the lowest score among all teams evaluated so far.
The reason was simple.
Kang Han had done absolutely nothing.
His team, made up of cadets who had banked on his Berserker trait to carry them, had been completely annihilated because Kang Han didn’t participate in the fight at all.
As soon as the simulation ended, his teammates lashed out at him in anger.
Their frustration was entirely justified, and even I couldn’t deny that.
The sight of Kang Han closing his eyes and not resisting, even as a giant monster loomed before him, was more like an incompetent team member than a leader.
The protagonist’s condition was worse than I had anticipated.
Watching him, I recalled my conversation with the monk earlier that morning.
“As a monk, it’s not something I should say, but there’s only one way for a woman to dominate a man in his prime.”
I hadn’t asked the monk to elaborate.
I didn’t need to—I already had a sense of what he meant.
It probably meant making Kang Han even more obsessed with me.
But how was that any different from making him fall for me?
A slight wave of nausea rose in me, but I swallowed it down.
“Guess I have no choice.”
The moment I made up my mind, I acted without hesitation.
Step, step.
I strode across the noisy briefing room, filled with cadets chatting among themselves.
My sudden change in direction caught the attention of my teammates heading toward the simulation room.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“I have something to take care of. You guys go on ahead.”
I made my way to the corner of the room, toward Kang Han.
My shadow fell over him as he leaned against the wall.
Through his messy bangs, his eyes looked up at me, puzzled.
“…Joo Yi Dam?”
“Watch closely.”
From now on, I would show Kang Han how I fought.
Perhaps it might stir the memories of that day when we sparred, and he smiled mischievously even after exhausting me.
Perhaps it might reignite his aggression.
I didn’t know if my actions would have any meaning.
But one thing was certain: there are things in life you can only find out by trying.
“What are you talking about…”
“Get in quickly!”
The instructor’s booming voice cut off Kang Han’s question.
I turned around.
The other members of our team had already entered the simulation room.
Our team leader, Wi Seoyeon, was waiting for me, the last member, with a piercing glare.
Her icy gaze was enough to freeze me in place, but I stood firm.
I looked down at Kang Han, giving him a confident smile.
“Watch carefully. Later tonight, you’re going to report back to me about everything you saw. Got it?”
To be continued.
Thanks for the chapter!