Chapter 12: Bypassing the Clichés
"Young Master, do you want to play too?" Donape asked.
"Huh?" Baek Ji-Hong took a step back, instinctively looking behind himself before pointing a finger at his own chest. "Me? Yeah, but later. Why do you ask? Also, just call me Junior Baek or Ji-Hong. No need for the formal titles, Boss."
"Sure. Well, if you need me to activate another capsule, just let me know," Donape said smoothly.
He took a slow sip of his cold drink, setting it down before turning to the special, custom-made VR Capsule resting right behind his counter. He lightly caressed the sleek surface. With a soft chime, the glass lid slid open without an ounce of drama, and Donape casually climbed inside.
Ji-Hong stood there, completely dumbfounded by the casual gesture.
Beside him, Butler Lee and the two bodyguards mirrored their young master’s expression, finding the shopkeeper’s baffling lack of professionalism incredibly difficult to digest.
What kind of business owner just went to play while attending the shop?
On the other hand, Donape had just activated The Path of the Heavenly Martial Arts completely free of charge, with a maximum daily playtime of twelve hours. Basically, from the exact moment the shop opened until the automated system forced him to close, he could dive into the VR world as much as he pleased.
This was one of his absolute shopkeeper privileges. Unlike the ordinary capsules, Donape’s personal machine was guaranteed to start with a whopping 20% synchronization rate. It was a fixed benefit tied directly to his first completed quest—a static reward hardcoded into the system long before the quest had even arrived.
Butler Lee snapped back quickly, his eyes darting to the illuminated glass lid of VR Capsule 3. "Young Master, it seems we missed a significant portion of the tutorial."
At those words, Ji-Hong and the two bodyguards immediately returned their gazes to the lid screen.
Initially, Butler Lee and the two bodyguards hadn’t been interested in spectating at all. Watching Irene’s gameplay yesterday had given them the false impression that this VR game was just a glorified slice-of-life simulator about rural farm management and casual strolls.
Thus, they had been deeply curious about how the game was actually supposed to be played.
When the intro to The Path of the Heavenly Martial Arts appeared, it had completely shattered their expectations. They had gasped, their postures instinctively straightening.
Seeing the first patriarch, Cheon Di-Mun, casually redirect a burning, house-sized broadsword with his bare hands and send a tyrant flying into the stratosphere was the ultimate showcase of the pinnacle of martial arts.
Countless online games feature flashy martial arts nowadays. But somehow, this VR medium made everything feel entirely different. Even though it was technically the same game genre, the terrifying realism and raw pressure made it feel like a window into another world.
They had been completely glued to the lid screen during that cinematic masterpiece—until Donape had casually caressed his own custom capsule and climbed inside. The sheer absurdity of the shopkeeper going astray on the job had completely derailed their attention.
Ji-Hong remained pensive, his eyes flickering between Jae-Woong’s half-missed tutorial and the sleek capsule behind the counter where Donape had just vanished.
Many alternative plans was forming in his mind. He could choose to hop into a capsule right now, stay here and watch Jae-Woong’s live stream, or even use the multiplayer feature to dive in and join his friend.
But looking at the master-level cinematic they had just witnessed, a realization struck him: why bother watching a complete newbie struggle through basic mechanics when the possiblity of the expert was right in front of him?
In any gaming hub, the shopkeeper was bound to be a hidden veteran who knew the maps, the meta, and the absolute best ways to play.
Watching Donape might be a hidden gem for him.
Breaking his silence, Ji-Hong abruptly grabbed his chair and dragged it over, planting it squarely in front of the counter.
Butler Lee and the two bodyguards reacted with military precision to follow along. Though they were utterly confused by their young master’s sudden shift away from Jae-Woong’s pod, they didn’t hesitate for a single second.
A-Ji and Ji-Ga swiftly hoisted another chair, perfectly placing it right next to Ji-Hong before stepping back to stand at absolute attention.
"Elder Lee, please," Ji-Ga murmured respectfully, gesturing to the seat.
Butler Lee offered a slight nod and took his seat next to the young master. He honestly couldn’t comprehend why Ji-Hong was choosing to stare at a sleeping shopkeeper instead of a live game stream.
But Ji-Hong’s eyes were fixed on the custom glass lid, waiting for it to illuminate. It wouldn’t take long for Butler Lee and the guards to realize that looking away from the tutorial to watch Donape was the single most correct decision they had made all day.
Inside the VR game, Donape selected ’Yes’ to the tutorial experience. To save precious time, he skipped the customization menu entirely, leaving his in-game appearance and name on the system defaults.
When the epic intro cinematic flared to life, his consciousness manifested in the sky. He immediately locked his hands behind his back, floating mid-air with the calm, detached air of an absolute professional.
In the real world, Butler Lee and the two bodyguards stared at his motionless avatar projected on the glass lid and found the try-hard pose incredibly... lame.
However, Ji-Hong’s eyes was completely lit up. It felt as though he had just discovered a legendary idol to admire. To a gamer, Donape’s absolute efficiency and unbothered posture made the entire game look impossibly cool.
Back in the Murim realm, Donape didn’t just sit back and watch the cinematic replay. Utilizing his custom capsule’s high connection, he consciously tried to blend his avatar’s phantom movements with the first patriarch of the Heavenly Cloud Sect. As Cheon Di-Mun moved, Donape attempted to mirror every shift in weight and trajectory as closely as humanly possible.
’Damn, this is a hundred times harder than I imagined,’ Donape thought, his mental focus straining under the pressure.
But he refused to give up, gritting his teeth and concentrating even harder. He let the patriarch’s philosophical chant echo through his mind: ’A gentleness to manage the order of nature. Do not resist, but flow. Do not hit, but counter. Do not receive, but redirect.’
As if a spark of true enlightenment had suddenly struck, Donape’s eyes flashed. Just as the tyrant’s massive broadsword descended, he synchronized his intent. He stepped forward—gently slipping straight into the blind spot of the terrifying swing. His bare hands lightly grazed the tyrant’s wrist.
With a smooth, circular rotation of his shoulders, he redirected the colossal downward momentum right back upward.
BOOM!
Donape had successfully mimicked the legendary movement almost perfectly.
Even though the system was technically the one executing the core technique during the cutscene, a massive grin broke across Donape’s face. To an outsider, celebrating such a meager imitation might look pathetic, but a flashing holographic notification in the corner of his vision proved otherwise.
During that exact moment of enlightenment, his synchronization rating had spiked, breaking past its static minimum to hit 21%.
He had made the right choice. This single, deliberate step had officially opened the door for him to enter the true realm of martial arts—even if, for now, he was still absolutely no match for real-world martial artists like A-Ji and Ji-Ga.
’Hehe, just give me a week,’ Donape grinned to himself. ’Even with this VR Capsule flat synchronization, facing a single martial artist in the real world will actually be doable.’
The intro dissolved, and his avatar spawned directly at the coordinates for the foot of the mountain. Without a single second of hesitation, he immediately turned and spearheaded his way straight up the winding path toward the Heavenly Cloud Sect’s gate.
Although he had successfully mimicked Cheon Di-Mun’s legendary counter-strike during the cinematic, he hadn’t actually learned or mastered the sect’s martial arts yet.
He still had a long way to go, but his progress was bound to be blindingly fast.
Unlike those amateurs, Donape moved with absolute, zero-waste efficiency.
Because of that, the small event with Cheon So-So didn’t appear, and the bullying incident later on wouldn’t either.
In Donape’s gameplay scenario, his encounter with the young miss would take place at the main venue, bypassing all the convoluted registration drama.
"Third-grade Outer Disciple," Donape murmured softly, flipping a crude wooden token in his hand.
His starting status was fundamentally different from the path Ji-Hong took, who had been accepted into the inner sect through So-So’s intervention.
As an outer disciple, his scripted future was to chop wood, carry water, and manage the sect’s worldly businesses just to keep the coin flowing. True martial arts secrets were entirely out of his reach, restricted only to basic entry-level forms.
But Donape wasn’t worried. He had a chance at the Entrance Ceremony.
The upcoming event wouldn’t just be a boring roll call; it would feature a live sparring tournament among all the newly admitted disciples.
It was a high-stakes crucible—a golden opportunity to forcefully seize a higher status through raw skill, or suffer the absolute misfortune of being stripped of everything before the journey even truly began.