Chapter 22: Who Built This Door?!
In the middle of the night, the narrow alley was eerily quiet. A full day of drizzle had left the damp streets cold and abandoned, with not a soul in sight.
Three men in sleek black suits—looking strikingly similar to Ji-Hong’s bodyguards—stood in front of Origins VR Cafe.
"Master wants us to take the owner of this shop away quietly and neatly," one of the men said, his voice cold and ominous.
"That’s easy enough. The hard part is making sure we don’t cause a scene."
"No kidding. With a dilapidated building like this, a single kick could bring the whole place down."
Without further ado, the lead man knocked on the door.
Silence. There was no response, as if Donape were fast asleep, completely insulated from the outside world.
The leader gestured with his head, signaling the other two to break down the door.
The two bodyguards casually raised their boots and kicked forward—expecting the fragile barrier to give way instantly.
Thump.
Surprisingly, there was no echo, no splintering wood, and no structural vibration.
The door remained completely intact.
The two men stood dumbfounded, exchanging bewildered glances.
"Stop messing around," the leader snapped, frowning. "We’re on a strict mission. Hurry up before someone stumbles down the alley."
The two men nodded solemnly, pulled back their legs, and threw their full weight into a heavy kick.
BANG!
A heavy, muffled thud echoed off the porch—yet the door didn’t budge an inch.
The three of them stood frozen, utterly baffled by the sheer durability of a door that looked like it was falling apart at the seams.
Their confusion quickly turned to irritation. Clenching their teeth, the bodyguards abandoned all subtle tactics and tried to force their way in.
As their frustration mounted, they stopped caring about stealth or the surrounding neighborhood. One of them even pulled out a steel crowbar, jamming it into the frame to pry the door open.
It was entirely useless.
They couldn’t pry the door, nor could they shatter the fragile-looking glass panels beside it. It was as if the shop was shielded by bulletproof glass—no, something dozens of times stronger than military-grade armor.
Furthermore, no matter how loud, crude, or violent their attempts became, the sound was strangely muffled as it traveled down the alley. To the neighbors around Origins VR Cafe, the heavy impacts sounded like nothing more than a faint, distant pitter-patter—ensuring not a single person woke up to investigate the commotion.
"Phew... phew!"
The three men gasped for breath, their chests heaving in the cold night air.
They felt like their sanity was slowly slipping away. How could a building this shabby—a place that looked like a gentle breeze could knock it over—be so ridiculously indestructible?
What on earth was going on?
"H-Hey... how is this even possible?" one of them stammered, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Is this some kind of dream? Magic?!"
"Don’t talk nonsense! We’re in the real world, magic doesn’t exist!"
"Then... should we call the rest of the unit to help us harass this... door?"
As the words hung in the air, the three men fell dead silent, exchanging embarrassed glances.
They felt utterly humiliated. On one hand, they needed to complete the mission, but on the other, they were terrified of anyone finding out that a wooden front door had just defeated three professional bodyguards.
"Let’s try a different angle," the leader muttered, trying to salvage his dignity. "One of you try the roof. He and I will force a way in through the back or the sides."
"Big bro... we can’t go through the sides. The right side is blocked by a concrete fence pressed directly against the shop, and the left side is glued to the neighboring building."
"We can’t get in through the back either," the third man added. "This whole block is crammed together like a high-rise apartment complex. Every wall is attached to another structure."
Silence fell over the alley once more. For some reason, tonight was the night their brain cells went completely extinct.
"T-Then we go through the roof! All three of us at once," the leader declared grimly. "Forget about stealth. The only thing that matters now is dragging this shop owner out!"
Laboriously, the three men scrambled onto the roof, scouring for any gap or weak point that might serve as an entry.
It was entirely futile.
The roof tiles looked brittle, rusted, and weather-worn, but no matter how hard they stomped, kicked, or pried, the roof didn’t budge an inch. It was as if an invisible magnetic force had fused every single tile into a solid, unyielding fortress.
WHAM!
Losing their footing after jumping continuously like madmen, the three bodyguards slipped off the edge and crashed onto the damp street below.
Exhausted, battered, and thoroughly humiliated, they lay flat on their backs, staring up at the dark sky in the freezing pre-dawn chill.
The mission... was an utter failure.
A bright Monday morning had arrived, and the narrow alley was slowly coming to life.
Donape had actually woken up at the crack of dawn—a rare sight.
Usually, he slept in late and had to suffer a barrage of nagging from the System.
Grumbleee!
His stomach let out a loud, pathetic protest.
"Should I go out and grab breakfast?" he muttered, glancing at the wall clock, which read 5:49 AM.
Whether it was an effect of drinking the Spirit-Clearing Dew or simply the result of his repetitive daily routine, he had slept like a log last night—completely unburdened and without a single mosquito buzzing in his ear to disturb him.
[Mortal, the Great Me shall bestow upon you your next quest.]
Donape deadpanned. ’Do you really think a quest is a "blessing to be bestowed" when its failure penalty is literally pointing a gun at my back?!’
"Yes, System. Whatever you say is a wonderful blessing," he said aloud, his words lying through his teeth.
[Mortal. The Great Me appreciates your obedience. It seems the teachings of the greater universe have finally touched your fragile soul.]
Donape wanted to roll his eyes into the back of his head, but he quickly abandoned the thought.
As of right now, he wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to the Divine Lightning. It was better not to risk triggering his trauma, even if those high-voltage shocks weren’t actually fatal.
Ding!
[Novice Quest: Time to Show Off]
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Objective: Demonstrate your marksmanship skills in the real world so humanity realizes that the VR Capsule can turn anyone into an expert! Challenge two local shooting ranges and defeat every registered shooter on their leaderboards.
Failure Penalty: The Host’s dividend share will be demoted to 0%.
Reward: Wait for the surprise!
---------------------------------
[SYSTEM WARNING: 06:23:57:12 REMAINING]
Donape’s eye twitched at the wall of text hovering before him, his frustration mounting with every word.
’Fucking piece of shit! How the hell is the penalty a 0% dividend reduction?! Isn’t that literally just turning me into a slave?!’
Swallowing his rage, he tried reasoning with the System.
"System, I think this quest is completely unreasonable. I’ve never held a real gun or shot a target in my life. Besides, I only just started playing Counter-Injustice. There’s no way my aim can compete with the professionals at a shooting range."
[Not the Great Me’s problem, mortal. It’s yours. And if you fail, accept your punishment with an open, grateful heart! Kehahahaha!]
"Then at least increase my VR Capsule synchronization," Donape snapped, his tone turning curt.
[Mortal, do you possess a death wish? Should the Great Me initiate a dose of Divine Lightning to properly motivate you?!]
Donape flinched hard and immediately dropped to the floor, kowtowing in earnest. "Oh, Great System, who is merciful and kind beyond measure—"
[Enough. Just complete the quest and stop summoning me whenever you please.]
’Motherfucker! You’re the one who popped up out of nowhere, and now you’re blaming ME for calling you?!’ Donape cursed savagely in his head, genuinely wondering how an entity straight out of a webnovel managed to develop a full-blown Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
Stepping outside, Donape headed toward his usual food stall.
"Hey, Don! Long time no see," the owner greeted him warmly.
This was the humble eatery he had visited back when the System first overhauled his rental place.
"Yeah, it’s been about a week. Lately I’ve just been eating at home or ordering delivery," Donape said, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. "Also, I wanted to pay off the debt for that last meal. I actually brought my phone with me this time."
"Ah, don’t worry about it! Between us, a small tab like that is trivial," the owner waved a hand dismissively. "What can I get for you today? The usual? Eating here or takeout?"
"The usual. I’ll eat here."
"Coming right up! Ah, by the way... I noticed your place turned into a shop. Did your landlord even know you renovated the place?"
"I talked to him the day after it happened," Donape replied. "I actually inquired about buying the building outright, and he gave me a pretty good price: 8,300 BC."
"Hey, that’s not bad at all! For a small, run-down ex-warehouse, that’s a fair price. Not too expensive, not too cheap."
Donape’s breakfast arrived quickly—piping hot and satisfying—starting his day on a full stomach.
After finishing his meal and paying his balance, he returned to open Origins VR Cafe as usual.
However, to his surprise, a crowd of unfamiliar faces was entering the shop instead of his regular customers like Irene, Ji-Hong, and others.
"Are you the shop owner?" someone from the crowd called out.
"More or less," Donape replied casually, slightly baffled by the sudden new influx.
"Oh, perfect! So you’re the guy in this viral video, right? Can you do martial arts? Don’t worry, I’ll pay you for a live performance!"
Donape almost faceplanted right there on the pristine floor.
Was he running a VR cafe or a circus ring?!