TRPM 12

CHAPTER 12

In the original timeline, the incident that should have gone down in history as the Yeouido Disaster—or the Green-skin Wave—passed without any casualties.

That didn’t mean people’s sense of caution disappeared.

Many felt relieved that the gate was stopped without major harm, but hardly anyone looked at abnormal events—like four races spilling out of a single gate at once, or monsters surging through just a few hours after its appearance—and thought, “Well, since there weren’t casualties this time, it’ll be fine from now on too.”

‘If anything, Korea was the only place without casualties. Other countries that faced similar incidents suffered heavy losses, didn’t they?’

Because of that, the usual so-called “patriotic YouTubers” were having a field day… but let’s set that aside.

In any case, this incident sparked voices of concern that the Black Fog might begin to attack humanity more aggressively.

Of course, since the Black Fog had overexerted itself this time, it would need about ten years of recovery before stirring again. But the only person who knew that right now was me.

‘Still, it’s better if people stay on edge for a while, worrying about what might happen next.’

After all, while humanity’s greatest enemy is indeed the Black Fog, there are also criminals known as Villains.

Compared to the Black Fog, their threat level is laughable. But that’s only because the comparison point is an entity that nearly wiped out humanity… Villains are still very real threats.

‘Especially for my mother, who’s just an ordinary civilian…’

I clenched my fist, recalling the time my mother was kidnapped by Villains who wanted to exploit my powers.

… Petty criminals who simply refuse to register with the Association, or those who became Villains through vigilante justice but never harm civilians—those I could forgive.

But those who cross the line—kidnapping, massacres, human experimentation—can never be forgiven.

Not that I can actually do anything about it right now.

‘I know Villains pop up everywhere, but it’s not like I remember all the details.’

Thanks to circulating inner energy with my Harmony Technique to stimulate my brain for psychic power use, my memory had improved. But remembering things I never committed to memory in the first place was still impossible.

The Villain-related incidents I could recall were only the major ones—terrorist attacks that made the news for days, mass-casualty events, or unsolved serial murders.

‘But really, since I stopped the Yeouido Disaster, even that information is just reference material now.’

Big or small, my actions would certainly ripple through the world.

For instance, the Awakened who survived thanks to me might go on to stop a Villain’s crime.

Or a Villain might hesitate to act after realizing Korea’s Awakened were stronger than expected.

… Or, on the darker side, Villains might plan even more meticulously than before in order to evade the eyes of powerful Awakened.

I couldn’t say for sure which outcome my actions would lead to.

Well, it’s something I’d already accepted.

By altering an event as major as the Yeouido Disaster, I’d already guaranteed the future would flow in directions completely different from what I remembered.

“……”

Of course, the Yeouido Disaster wasn’t the only way I’d influenced the world.

With that thought, I turned my eyes to the Awakened System’s messages.

【Usage fee for 【Basic Training Sword】 has been settled.】

【Usage fee for 【Amplification Magic Circle (Modified)】 has been settled.】

【Usage fee for 【Regeneration Potion (Modified)】 recipe has been settled.】

The messages continued endlessly.

It meant countless people were using the techniques and knowledge I’d registered in the Awakened System’s database.

I didn’t know exactly who they were.

But thanks to them, I received a massive amount of points every single day.

And I’d already roughly decided what to use those points for.

【Strengthening the Awakened System requires points approximately 1,000 times greater than what current user Han Gunwoo has accumulated.】

【Unable to proceed with strengthening.】

I intended to use the points not for myself, but to strengthen the Awakened System itself.

Enhancing myself held no meaning.

I’d considered it, but if I consumed things like elixirs and disrupted the harmony between my body and inner energy, it would do more harm than good.

It was far safer, and would raise the quality of my inner energy, if I let my body naturally develop as the Harmony Technique cultivated my power steadily.

For that reason, I had no plans to strengthen myself.

‘I was tempted by weapons… but for now, the Orc Chieftain’s sword my puppet carries is enough.’

In my past life, I’d been stuck wielding a battered old blade, even after it became nearly a cursed sword soaked in blood.

Compared to that, the Orc Chieftain’s sword was practically a masterpiece.

Though, truth be told, aside from its durability, it wasn’t much special.

‘… Besides, I already have my eyes on another sword.’

I’d also thought about upgrading my puppet, but frankly, I didn’t want to even look at it for a while, so I let the idea drop.

‘Which is why I decided to strengthen the Awakened System instead…’

But since the System existed within every Awakened across the globe, strengthening it required astronomical amounts of points.

Even with the continuous stream of usage fees being credited to me, it would take several years of saving.

‘Not that this is my only way of earning points…’

Still, I had no intention of cutting into my training time just to farm points.

That was fine.

‘If I keep saving at this pace for a few years, strengthening the System should at least become possible.’

What form that strengthening would take, though, I couldn’t predict.

I suspected the System would evolve into whatever form humanity needed most.

“Phew… I guess those are the major events of the future for now.”

Ah, though there was one more thing—not a future event, but something happening right now.

The puppet I used in Yeouido had been given a nickname.

‘Like how Lee Haeun would later be called Serenity, I figured my puppet’s flashy performance would earn it a moniker…’

Artist.

That was the title.

Apparently, because my puppet killed monsters in such an “artistic” way.

‘Seriously, which idiot suggested that?’

It wasn’t a nickname I liked, but neither was it entirely incomprehensible.

From others’ eyes, wiping out an army of Ogres and Trolls, or slaughtering Goblins and Orcs with a rain of petals, must have looked like a dazzling performance.

I even heard that “Comedian” had been another candidate for the nickname.

Naturally, fierce debate followed about how to treat the so-called Artist.

‘It’s funny, even if it’s meaningless.’

One side argued that since this being hadn’t even registered with the Association, appeared briefly only to disappear again, it should be classified as a Villain.

The other side countered that the law requiring all Awakened to register was absurd to begin with, and that labeling someone a Villain despite committing no crimes was unfair—in fact, they argued Artist’s accomplishments made them worthy of being hailed a hero.

So-called “experts” bickered on TV every day over this pointless issue.

‘As if calling me a Villain would suddenly make me surrender… or calling me a Hero would make me happy?’

Still, I could guess why the debates went on.

“Let’s play Awakened!”

“Then I’m gonna be Artist!”

“No, I’m gonna be Artist!”

After training at school and heading home to match my mother’s return from work, I passed by a kindergarten where children were shouting that as they played.

‘Good grief…’

The game they called “Awakened play” wasn’t complicated.

Just kids splitting into Awakened, Monsters, or Villains and pretending to fight.

But seeing them argue over who got to be Artist made me laugh.

“Huh? What’s so funny, Gunwoo?”

“Ah, nothing. It’s just… I’ve been hearing a lot about this Artist person lately.”

When I gave that excuse to Lee Haeun, who was looking at me oddly, she puffed out her cheeks.

“You’ve always been like that since we were little. I don’t find it funny, but you laugh all on your own…”

“Sorry, sorry.”

Well, we were still little, but I let it slide.

“Come to think of it, Gunwoo.”

“Yeah?”

“That Artist person… looks a lot like you.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh!”

Well, of course.

It was my future self. Of course it looked like me.

As I smiled at the thought, Haeun clapped her hands as if reaching a conclusion.

“I knew it! You laughed because Artist looks like you, right? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, you got it. Haeun really is smart.”

“I knew it!”

I chuckled at her bright, childlike grin.

When she first entered elementary school, she’d been so timid she couldn’t even talk to other kids besides me. She’d really come out of her shell.

Lost in thought, I didn’t realize we’d already reached our apartment complex.

Which meant it was time to part ways.

“See you tomorrow, Gunwoo!”

“Yeah, see you.”

I waved her off toward her building, then headed to mine.

Unlocking the door, I called out:

“I’m home.”

“Gunwoo? Wash your hands and come have some tangerines.”

“Okay!”

I glimpsed my mother, who had come home a bit earlier than me and was busy with chores.

As she’d said, I put my bag away in my room, washed my hands, and came back to the living room.

“Don’t eat too many—you still need room for dinner, alright?”

“Got it.”

While peeling tangerines with my hands and mouth, my attention was elsewhere.

“Phew… I can’t keep this up forever…”

I muttered through the mouth of my puppet, which had just discovered another dungeon.

All day, my body sat through classes pretending to study, while my puppet searched for dungeons—splitting my focus between two entirely different tasks.

It was exhausting.