Global Awakening: This VR System is Tyrannical!

"W-What just happened...?"

That single, bewildered whisper undoubtedly echoed through the minds of every guest present—especially those intimately familiar with the pitiful history of the Baek Family wastrel.

Throughout the hall, high-society elites and seasoned martial artists alike covered their mouths, desperately trying to process the scene unfolding before them.

Truthfully, Ji-Hong’s movement wasn’t incomprehensible to the naked eye. There was no flashy teleportation or explosive burst of dust—the visual information had been recorded with absolute clarity thanks to the fluid, effortless simplicity of his footwork.

The real problem lay in cognitive dissonance.

For the brain to process what the eyes witness, logic must bridge the gap. But when an individual recognized for a lifetime of frail, sickly weakness suddenly moves with martial perfection, logic breaks down.

Their eyes had seen it, but their minds were far too slow to reconcile the reality: How on earth could Ji-Hong jump forward so casually, yet land a devastating, fight-ending blow without breaking a sweat?

The shock in the venue deepened when Baek Si-Eun—who had just been miserably defeated—stood back up, completely unscathed.

"How is that possible?! Didn’t she just get launched out of the ring?"

Si-Yeon approached quickly, helping Si-Eun to her feet while carefully examining her cousin for injuries.

"Big Sis, are you okay?" Si-Yeon asked, her brow furrowed with concern.

"I-I’m fine... really," Si-Eun assured her, though her voice betrayed her utter bewilderment.

Ji-Hong’s strike to her stomach had felt like nothing more than a gentle push. Yet, she couldn’t fathom how that soft touch had generated enough force to launch her fifty-kilogram body entirely out of the arena.

Noticing the conflict in Si-Eun’s eyes, Si-Yeon asked softly, "Big Sis... do you want to contest the result and face Ji-Hong again?"

Si-Eun’s face hardened. She couldn’t deny the thought had crossed her mind for a split second, but she shook her head the very next moment.

"No. That would be unsightly," Si-Eun muttered. "Whether I underestimated him or not, he defeated me fair and square the moment the match began. Besides... it seems he really has recovered from that fragile constitution. I don’t know—it’s hard to accept, but forget it. I’m already at the bottom rank anyway, so it’s not worth throwing a scene."

She paused, casting a cold, serious look toward her peers.

"But those of you in the top six had better wake up. That wastrel is no longer who he used to be—unless you want to end up embarrassingly thrown out like me."

With that, Si-Eun returned to her seat. She was still deeply upset, and her resentment toward Ji-Hong hadn’t faded in the slightest, but her pride as a martial artist at least kept her from acting shamefully.

"Tch! A weakling trying to give advice—how fitting for someone of her rank," Su-Hong sneered arrogantly, completely refusing to heed her warning.

To Su-Hong and the top rankers, Si-Eun’s defeat was irrelevant; what bothered them was Ji-Hong’s movement. That fluid, effortless footwork... where on earth did it come from?

Had his fragile constitution actually improved? Impossible.

Even the world’s most renowned doctors at the elite hospitals of the Starfall Federation had declared his condition permanently incurable.

Even the legendary pharmacist hailed as the greatest healer in The Sovereign State of Tang had personally examined Ji-Hong and deemed a full recovery completely out of the question.

Then... how was that useless wastrel executing such flawless martial techniques?!

The Baek Family descendants kept casting bewildered glances toward the VIP section. Some guests were doing the exact same, unable to make sense of the bizarre scene that had just unfolded.

Even Patriarch Baek—who had maintained absolute dignity and composure all night—suddenly stood up, his eyes widening in shock at the sheer refinement of Ji-Hong’s footwork.

’So the boy truly has recovered... and he can execute technique at that level?! No. This makes zero sense. The logic isn’t there! I can understand why he wanted to reveal his condition on the stage, but... how did he heal? Where did he learn such footwork?!’

The next moment, Patriarch Baek quickly regained his composure, then swept his gaze around him.

The three Elders—his own siblings—stood with contorted, pale faces, utterly unable to process what their eyes had witnessed.

Meanwhile, his son Ji-Gal and daughter-in-law Jo-Hyun covered their mouths with trembling hands, overwhelmed by the shock and confusion over how their sickly child managed to do that.

Sighing, Patriarch Baek gestured toward a quiet, empty spot a short distance from where he stood.

Stepping forward from that corner came a middle-aged man who naturally radiated a dense, commanding warrior aura.

Mareum, the Great Guardian of the Baek Family and Patriarch Baek’s right-hand man. More precisely, he was the absolute pinnacle of human martial arts in the entire Baek Empire—the very ceiling of mortal physical mastery in an era that had yet to see superhumans.

His presence alone was one of the key pillars keeping the Baek Family in the spotlight, standing firmly at the top alongside the wise and great leader, Patriarch Baek.

"What do you think? You saw it, didn’t you?" Patriarch Baek asked quietly.

"Yes, My Lord. I saw it," Mareum replied softly. "And I think... your grandson has completely transformed."

Patriarch Baek’s brow furrowed.

"That footwork... no, the movement and execution were flawless," Mareum explained concisely. "It felt like witnessing a completely new person in that body. As impossible as it sounds, it is what it is."

Patriarch Baek placed a hand behind his back, caressing his long white beard. "Is it possible to investigate his recent actions from the very beginning?"

"As you wish, My Lord," Mareum said, cupping his hands in respect.

The conversation between the two who held the Baek Family’s absolute top position took place in hushed, discreet whispers, impossible for anyone to overhear unless they came closer.

Meanwhile, sitting far across the venue, Donape was the only person entirely unaffected by the shocking match.

"Sigh... they should just let Ji-Hong win and end the sparring already," Donape grumbled in a low voice, shaking his head. "A little small talk, a few laughs while enjoying food and drinks, and tada! The event is over. Then I go home with my quest completed. Hah!"

As he idly waited and munched on buffet food, he noticed Ji-Hong walking straight toward his table.

"Hehe. Boss Don, what did you think of my debut match? Exhilarating, right?" Ji-Hong boasted as he sat down at the table.

Butler Lee approached alongside A-Ji and Ji-Ga, who took up position behind him. None of them were surprised by the result—after all, they were the very sparring partners who had confirmed their young master’s stable recovery firsthand.

Meanwhile, Donape’s expression flattened, resigned to the fact that dozens of eyes were now glued to his table.

"Yeah. Amazing," Donape said, his tone completely dry and devoid of excitement. "So... when are you going up again?"

"After everyone else has had their turn to spar. I’m just waiting for the current round to wrap up before issuing another challenge."

As of now, two cousins had lost, leaving ten remaining. Counting Ji-Hong, eleven participants were still in play.

With two previous winners awaiting the next round and nine yet to compete, Ji-Hong—as the bottom rank—was far more likely to be matched against someone who hadn’t sparred yet.

An hour later, the preliminaries finally concluded.

The only person who hadn’t stepped into the arena yet was Su-Hong. Because of his notoriously aggressive nature, no one had dared to challenge him, choosing instead to clash with the top-ranked Si-Yeon despite the slim odds.

Naturally, the results had been predictable.

And now, the most anticipated match of the new round was about to begin: Ji-Hong vs. Su-Hong.

Inside the arena, Su-Hong maintained a cold, flat expression, though his veins bulged as he suppressed his rage at Ji-Hong’s mere presence.

On the other side, Ji-Hong stood with a relaxed smile, hands clasped casually behind his back.

"Let the match... begin!"

Su-Hong exploded forward, closing the distance instantly with a furious right hook.

A sharp sonic pop echoed across the front rows as his fist tore through the air, demonstrating the sheer, thunderous power behind the attack.

Yet, the greater the force, the easier it was to evade.

Ji-Hong slid fluidly to the side, letting Su-Hong’s right fist breeze harmlessly past his head.

Halting his momentum, Su-Hong whipped his leg around in a vicious rotational kick. But Ji-Hong rode the wind of the swing, taking a light leap backward to create distance effortlessly.

Grit teeth bared, Su-Hong launched himself into the air with both feet, bringing both hands down like a falling sledgehammer directly toward Ji-Hong’s head.

The overwhelming air pressure whipped at Ji-Hong’s hair.

Yet Ji-Hong didn’t cower. As the devastating strike descended, he took a single step forward—gently slipping right into the blind spot of the arc. His bare hands lightly touched Su-Hong’s wrists.

With a smooth, circular rotation of his shoulders, he caught the massive downward force and redirected it straight back upward.

BOOM!

Su-Hong was launched skyward by his own crushing power, flying backward through the air before crashing heavily onto the far side of the venue.

As dust settled over the arena, Ji-Hong calmly dusted off his sleeves, leaving the entire crowd staring in slack-jawed shock.