I had hoped my expectations would be wrong, but as my body started aching with muscle pain and chills set in, it felt all too similar to the pain I’d experienced not long ago. It was hard to ignore.
It seems like today will end with me suffering like this again…
I’ve already progressed one stage in the quest, and with the rain, I can’t work in the fields anyway, so I might as well rest while I can.
Still, it’s frustrating to waste another day like this. I can only hope I recover faster this time compared to last.
After cleaning the rain-soaked second-floor floor and heading downstairs, I froze mid-step on the stairs, startled by the sight before me.
Even Ju-biyoung was holding one leg slightly up, balancing on just one leg. It was an impressive display of balance.
“What are you all doing? Planks? Even Bamtol?”
“Ki, kiiing.”
Bamtol, trembling with its front paws shaking like aspen leaves, responded without lifting its head.
Upon closer inspection, I noticed Bamtol was cheating by tucking its chubby tail under its belly.
Whether it was natural acting or genuine struggle, its expression looked sincerely pained, though no one seemed fooled.
I pretended not to notice Bamtol’s trick and finished descending the stairs. Rest was my priority. As I quietly tried to slip into my room, Ju-biyoung, who was also trembling, asked,
“Kup. On a rainy day like this, you’ve gotta—huff—do some indoor strength training. Haje, wanna join?”
“Uh? No, I…”
I was about to say I wasn’t feeling well and needed rest, and that I didn’t want to sweat after just washing up.
But then Kang Dojin, the only one maintaining a perfect plank with ease, glanced at me and said,
“Hyung, if you don’t know how—or rather, if you’re tired, don’t push yourself. Rest. If you do it wrong, you’ll strain your shoulders or back and end up with muscle pain instead of a workout.”
“……..”
What? Was he just being considerate? But why did I suddenly feel like joining them on the floor?
I was already uneasy with the onset of what felt like growing pains, but hearing him say that made me feel like…
‘If I don’t do it, it’ll look like I’m avoiding it because I can’t.’
Truth is, I can’t. I’ve never even tried. But maybe I could now? My stamina’s improved, hasn’t it? And look at Hayul doing it so well.
Yeah, since I’m going to be in pain anyway, maybe exercising and sleeping it off will make me feel refreshed.
So, after observing Kang Dojin’s form, I slowly got down between him and Hayul.
Balancing on my toes and arms, I started holding the plank, and surprisingly, it wasn’t too bad.
‘What? Is this because my stamina’s up? This is easy. I may not look it, but my muscles must be growing.’
At that moment, I thought I was holding up well and that exercising instead of just sleeping off the pain was the right call.
Little did I know how foolish this choice was, or the bone-deep regret I’d feel in the middle of the night…
★★★
“Haje.”
“Yes?”
“There are two kinds of idiots in this world.”
“What kind?”
“One is the idiot who pushes themselves despite knowing their condition.”
At Kang Dohee’s words, Gamja, sitting beside me, turned to look at me.
“The other is the idiot who encourages such a reckless fool instead of stopping them.”
This time, Gamja’s gaze shifted to Kang Dojin, who was in the corner with his hands behind his back, doing a headstand plank.
Next to Kang Dojin were Hayul and Bamtol, who, instead of headstands, were on their knees with their hands and front paws raised.
Ju-biyoung, spared from punishment by the homeowner’s authority (?), brought a wet towel and slapped it onto my forehead with a plop.
“Haje, about those stats you mentioned before? Do you end up like this every time you raise them?”
“Seems like it. Since Dohee noona doesn’t get sick, it might just be me…”
Hearing my feeble mumble, Kang Dohee, with an indifferent expression, popped out two painkillers, shoved them into my mouth, grabbed my hair, tilted my head up, and poured barley tea in, saying,
“I’m naturally tough. Maybe your weak body is just restructuring itself?”
Weak body… I couldn’t even deny it.
“Did you swallow?”
“Ugh…”
I nodded slightly to signal I’d swallowed, finally escaping her grip.
‘Ugh, my hair. I’ll go bald at this rate.’
Anyway, as you can tell from the state of the room, I was bedridden. Badly.
It felt even worse than the last time. Was it because I raised three stat points at once? It hurt so much I could cry.
It was so bad that I’d believe Gamja was lying on top of me—that’s how heavy my body felt. I could barely hold my head up.
Kang Dohee force-fed me the medicine because I was too weak to even lift my head.
My eardrums were also affected. It felt like a thin film was covering them, making every sound echo like I was in a cave.
I worried something was wrong with my ears, but Kang Dohee said it could happen when a high fever causes swelling in the ears and told me not to worry too much.
That eased my mind a bit, but the pain was still real. It was so intense I thought my eardrums might burst.
I was in tears.
‘Why only me? Kang Dohee raised her stats to level 6 and doesn’t feel a thing! Why am I the only one suffering?’
It’s not that I resented her for not being in pain. I was just frustrated and sad that it was only me.
In typical fantasy novels, protagonists get gravely injured but never show pain thanks to first-person narrative tricks, only revealing how bad it was through other characters’ accounts. But here I am, just thinking about how much it hurts.
I didn’t want to be reminded that I’m not protagonist material, but the pain and misery were overwhelming.
Maybe because I was groaning so much, Hayul’s worried voice reached me.
“Hyung, if your stamina gets better, and you build as much muscle as Dohee noona, you won’t hurt like this anymore. Hang in there…”
“Thanks…”
Hayul was comforting me so kindly, so why did it make me feel worse?
As I groaned in response, Kang Dohee let out a tch and glanced at Hayul. At that, Hayul and Bamtol quickly raised their arms, which they’d briefly lowered.
I mean, the kids didn’t mean any harm. Sure, they might’ve found it a bit amusing, but kids can be like that. Cut them some slack, right?
I couldn’t say it out loud but tried to signal Dohee with my eyes. She misinterpreted it, though, and told me to sleep, covering my eyes with the wet towel.
★★★
After taking the medicine and passing out, I was sick for nearly a full day.
When I woke up, it was the dead of night, and someone was shaking me awake.
“Haaak! Hup, huff…”
I gasped for air like someone pulled from drowning and opened my eyes. Blinking and looking around, I saw Kang Dojin sitting beside me, looking down.
I was holding Hayul in my arms. Seeing Hayul brought an odd sense of relief, and as I let out a deep sigh, I suddenly felt something squirming near my chest.
As I lowered my head a bit more, I saw Bamtol, tightly nestled between Hayul and me.
“Hyung, are you okay?”
“Just now… something… I did something…”
It was hard to put into words, but it felt like I had done something. Something irreversible. Yet, I couldn’t remember what it was at all.
Unlike my trembling voice, Kang Dojin shook his head and spoke in a calm, composed tone.
“You seemed to be having a nightmare, so I woke you up.”
“Kiiing.”
“Hup, huff, ha… a nightmare…?”
“Yeah, a nightmare. So snap out of it. It was just a dream.”
“Kyaaang.”
A nightmare?
Hearing that, I suddenly took in the dim room and realized this was reality.
Just moments ago, it felt like I was somewhere else entirely. I couldn’t recall where, who I was with, or anything at all. It was a dream from just seconds ago, yet nothing came to mind.
But I wasn’t particularly disappointed. It wasn’t a good dream, so my body trembling like this must mean it was a bad one. As Kang Dojin said, it must’ve been a truly awful nightmare.
As I woke up and my mind cleared, the trembling in my body gradually subsided.
I slowly released Hayul, who I’d been holding tightly like a body pillow. Seeing him still fast asleep, undisturbed, brought me some relief.
‘Thank goodness I didn’t wake him up despite clutching him like that during my nightmare.’
Coming to my senses, I realized my throat was parched. There was no kettle in the room today, so I shakily got up, and Bamtol clung to my clothes, snuggling close.
Holding Bamtol, I went to the living room and glanced at Gamja, sprawled alone on the sofa.
I wasn’t sure if I’d woken him or if he’d been awake, but Gamja looked at me with a soft, steady gaze.
“Guuuk.”
“Gamja, sorry. Was I too loud?”
“Guuuek.”
As if to say no, Gamja shook his head once and closed his eyes again.
I went to the kitchen, poured some barley tea, and sipped it while habitually checking the map. There was nothing nearby. Gamja was resting peacefully too.
But I couldn’t let my guard down. If an intruder came like last time… The thought alone made my hands tremble.
‘Hah… Pathetic. What did I even do back then to be acting like this now?’
Fine, I’ll admit it. The fact that I aimed a bow at someone that day still haunts me, popping into my mind at random moments.
Meanwhile, Kang Dohee, who handled everything in my place, seems so unfazed. I don’t know what’s going on inside her, but still.
At the very least, she doesn’t show any signs of being troubled by it like I am. It’s just me. Always just me. So weak.
Above all, the fact that Kang Dohee leveled up made me even more anxious.
To be precise, it was the level-up system…
No matter how I thought about it, for Kang Dohee to have leveled up so much more than me, it could only mean she hunted more.
But a single pheasant wouldn’t cause such a huge gap. Which means the hunting targets likely include “people” too.
This wasn’t just speculation—it felt like the most accurate guess I’d made in a while.
‘This means I might have to face more of that in the future…’
The system deliberately including “humans” as experience point targets felt like it carried that kind of weight, and it scared me.
Even gulping down the hearty barley tea left a bitter taste in my mouth.
I realize it dozens of times a day, but moments like this make it sink in even more painfully: I’m not cut out to be the protagonist of a modern fantasy novel.
If someone like me were the protagonist, readers would probably leave comments calling me frustrating or a “sweet potato,” or there’d be no readers at all.
Even though I’ve accepted I’m not protagonist material, I keep obsessing over it for one reason.
My beloved little brother, Hayul.
If I’m not the protagonist—if I’m just a minor character who dies early on—what happens to Hayul?
“Haa…”
Suddenly, my chest felt tight again. Not physically, but emotionally.
Can someone like me, who lacks the strength to protect even my little brother, is full of fear, and is better suited to running away with him than fighting in a crisis, ever grow? I don’t know.
Of course, I know Kang Dohee didn’t belittle me when she made that assessment.
It’s just that, in her eyes, Lee Haje isn’t someone who can stand at the forefront, fight alongside her, or handle unexpected situations together.
And honestly, no matter how strong I get, how agile, or how much stamina I build, I don’t expect I’ll ever be able to shoot a bow or snap someone’s neck without hesitation.
I’ll probably always hesitate, and in that split second of hesitation, I might put everyone in danger.
Because of my foolishness, the day might come when my brother gets hurt. I know this, yet I still lack confidence.
‘What… How… Can I become numb to this? Do I have to become like that to survive?’
“Kiiing.”
“Oh? Bamtol, what’s wrong?”
Thinking its position was uncomfortable, I adjusted my hold on Bamtol, trying to calm my still-pounding heart, when I noticed Kang Dojin stepping out of the room.
Looks like he couldn’t sleep either because of me.
“Dojin, sorry. I woke you up, didn’t I?”
“It’s fine. You okay now?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Your body?”
“My body’s feeling better too.”
I was still a bit achy, but the feverish feeling was mostly gone.
It was like the state you’d be in after sleeping three hours, working overtime until 10 p.m., and then walking home from the subway without sitting down, needing a shower.
I thought that was the end of it, but Kang Dojin came closer, patted my shoulder, and gestured toward the second floor with his chin.
“Let’s have a talk.”
“……..”
Gulp.
Did I do something wrong? Did I spill something in my sleep-talking?