HG Ch 4

<4>

Tiny floating status windows hovered beside the 3D version of Joo Eunho. The numbers in parentheses indicated the effects of the novice practitioner’s equipment set that Eunho was wearing. As his eyes skimmed through the stats, they suddenly stopped at one spot.

“So, ‘Passive traits’ are like a character’s unique skills in the game… And ‘Special Notes’? Give me a break”

Eunho let out a cynical laugh. The system tried hard to cover it up to seem impressive, but he had already seen the spoilers. Just three simple characters.

“‘Protagonist.’ And the last one is ‘Possession.’ They spilled everything right from the prologue, huh?”

Of course, this wasn’t protagonist (主人公) but protagonist gong (主人攻).

What the f*ck.

Once I escape, I’m giving this novel a one-star review.

The road ahead was full of obstacles, but that thought gave him a sudden burst of motivation. Eunho steeled himself.

Alright, first things first—leveling up. Just because his memories were all messed up didn’t mean he could just hide and hope things would work out. He needed to stay sharp. If he kept increasing that so-called Spiritual Power or whatever, he’d eventually figure things out.

With a more serious expression, Eunho spoke.

“Hey, Butterfly.”

「Are you a lowborn? Show some respect. If you continue to speak without courtesy, I shall repay rudeness with rudeness.」

But the butterfly’s reply was indifferent at best. The irritation Eunho had barely suppressed exploded in an instant.

“What? Hey, punk. What did you just say?”

「I called you a lowborn.」

“You discriminating against me? Why isn’t this kind of personal attack getting filtered?”

[SYSTEM] Joseon society follows the ban-sang[1] system, which enforces social discrimination between the ruling yangban class and the commoner sangmin class. Currently, player “MwonGaeSori” is classified as a commoner, which means you are a lowborn.

“You’re seriously enforcing historical accuracy on this? Why? So I can die from stress?”

If you’re going to be historically accurate, then go all the way! Huh? Why don’t you also include the lack of modern plumbing, forcing us to share a filthy communal well? Let’s all just catch smallpox together while we’re at it!

Fuming, Eunho jabbed a finger at the empty air.

「If anyone’s about to get sick from stress, it’s me. Just pick a Class already, you wretched fool. The world is vast, and yet you have no desire to embark on an adventure? Is it your life’s ambition to die working at the butcher shop in Nonyeok Village?」

“Ugh, stop nagging! You don’t even explain things properly, yet you keep telling me to do this, do that—so many demands! This is exactly why newbies get lost and end up being tricked by veterans into bi—”

He froze mid-sentence. A word he had never spoken aloud before had just slipped from his mouth.

Wait. Was that… some kind of censorship for ‘homo’? Up until now, the system had only replaced words with playful onomatopoeia like meow, woof, roar, chirp—but this?

Eunho, who had casually tossed around terms like homo and gay without a second thought, was now completely thrown off. Biyok^[2]? The meaning was roughly the same, but the nuance was so much heavier. The unexpected weight of the word crushed down on him.

And then, there was the one piece of information he could recall about the Shou.

“Waiting for a major update, spotted a haughty newbie and determined to conquer him♡“

“Ack!”

「What now? Why are you freaking out again? You’re insufferable.」

Eunho frantically reached for the butterfly fluttering in the air. In a place where a lunatic intent on conquering him could appear at any moment, the only thing he could trust was this damn butterfly.

“Master, I was wrong! I’ll do everything you say! Just tell me the strategy—I can’t afford to look like a clueless newbie!”

「You already look plenty loutish^[3].」

“Ugh, your commitment to the bit is insufferable! Just tell me how to get stronger!”

「I’m tired of repeating myself. First, choose your Class. You can ask for advice after that.」

It was infuriating but reasonable. Other games also had different training methods based on the Class. The butterfly probably meant something similar.

「For reference, the only way to access the Class selection feature in “Dodeul-Yangji” is—」

“I know. I have to purify my body and mind by bathing in the well water of Nonyeok Village, right?”

「Hm.」

The butterfly spun in a large circle before landing atop Eunho’s head.

「You’re not entirely useless, at least.」

Of course not. If nothing else, his memory when it came to games was crystal clear. Though he had dropped this one around the middle of Volume 2 after the shock of realizing he shared a name with one of the characters, it shouldn’t be a major issue.

Because I remember every novel I’ve ever read.

They said that in moments of crisis, your natural heuristics kick in to enable optimal decision-making. This was exactly that kind of moment. The confusion that had clouded his mind just a second ago vanished as if it had never existed, and everything before him became crystal clear.

First, he needed to establish a direction based on the premise that this world was not just a game, but a novel.

Authors typically had distinct writing styles and patterns in how they structured their stories. The more consistent the style, the easier it was to predict how a new work would unfold. And when it came to Banjiha, this author’s patterns were nothing if not predictable. Having read both “Escape from Solo Queue” and “The Landscapes of Stagnant and Toxic Waters”, Joo Eunho could easily compile a list of “Actions to Absolutely Avoid in a Banjiha-Style Game BL Novel.”

First rule: Do not talk to veterans. If you accept their items and let them carry you, you’ll inevitably end up in a proposal ending.

In particular, he needed to avoid any player with a remotely cool-sounding in-game name. The obvious two-character names that screamed “veteran” were already a no-go, but even in-game names that sounded decent when shortened were dangerous. This author had a habit of turning well-chosen in-game names into affectionate nicknames.

To summarize:

In-Game Names to avoid: Yeongwon^[4], Jeolmang^[5], Mokhwa^[6], Yechan^[7], Arongdarong^[8], Sallangbaram^[9], Baekhwa Jagi^[10], etc.

Safe In-Game Names: BabyDinosaurTrail, TaejoShotgun, AlmostVacationSeason, kdfia, 132135, SellingStuff, etc.

Second rule: Do not get overly immersed in the game.

If you try to be the first, the best, and the most dedicated, you’ll one day wake up and realize you’ve somehow ended up with a husband.

Seriously, who cared about first clears? Why did winning a guild competition even matter? Whether you placed first or tenth, your in-game lifestyle wouldn’t change much. Instead of being a frontrunner obsessed with winning, be the second-place player who enjoys the scenery and avoids pitfalls.

And if you get too immersed, you’ll inevitably end up in a keyboard battle. Which means you’ll either land on the drama boards or form some kind of relationship with another player and before you know it, you’ll have a boyfriend.

By the time Eunho was done compiling his list, he had mapped out a grand total of forty-six things he absolutely must not do.

Looking as serious as a soldier heading into battle, Joo Eunho scooped up a bucket of water from the village well and dumped it over himself.

Splash

His soaked clothes clung to his body for a mere five seconds before drying completely.

Back in the mountains, when he had been drenched in monster fluids during the tutorial, the mess had vanished in seconds. Now, water behaved the same way. It seemed to be part of the game’s auto-clean system—clearly designed for player convenience.

Always clean, dry, and fresh-smelling. What an absolutely ideal setting for romance.

Like hell I’ll let that happen.

Eunho clenched his fists.

「Good. The purification ritual has cleansed both your body and mind. It is time to set out for Dodeul-Yangji.」

At the butterfly’s words, Eunho slowly began to move.

The battle had already begun. He had to stay sharp.

* * *

Dodeul-Yangji refers to the peak of the small hill behind Nonyeok Village. It was such a tiny hill that reaching the top took less than ten minutes. Thanks to that, Eunho arrived at Dodeul-Yangji without much difficulty.

In the sunlit clearing, a middle-aged man stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his face clouded with deep contemplation. This man was the Ma-ui Doja^[11]—the NPC who assigned the Class based on facial readings.

Did this game determine the Class based on character customization? Fortunately, no. The whole “assigning Class through physiognomy” thing was just a setting detail. In reality, the player could freely choose their desired Class, and the NPC would respond with something like, “Oh-ho! Your skull is nicely rounded, and though the bridge of your nose is slightly low, its elegant shape resembles that of a ‘male mandarin duck.’ The perfect job for you is such-and-such! What do you think?”

A total scam.

「You’ve finally arrived at Dodeul-Yangji! I’m so excited to see what your Class will be!」

Completely oblivious to Eunho’s cynical thoughts, the butterfly flitted around in excitement. If a couch potato son, who had spent his days eating instant ramen at home, suddenly showered for the first time in a week and landed a part-time job at a convenience store, this was exactly how his parents would sound.

Eunho couldn’t understand why the butterfly was so happy about this, but the enthusiasm was oddly infectious. Maybe it was the influence of the eager little hype man, but even he started to feel a strange sense of anticipation.

「…What are you doing?」

“……”

But then.

「Are you trying to drive me insane? You made it all the way here, so why are you just standing there? Move!」

Like there was some kind of invisible barrier around the NPC, Eunho hesitated at a distance, stealing cautious glances at him. Eventually, in a small voice, he spoke.

“Don’t rush me. I do want to pick a Class. But based on what I observed in the village earlier, the NPCs here don’t react to meta-comments. That means I have to act like a real resident of this world… and that’s way easier said than done.”

How the hell did introverts play fully immersive VR games? This level of direct role-playing was just too much. It was a game designed for extroverts.

I… I even rehearse my order in my head multiple times before calling a waiter at a restaurant. He was the kind of person who refused to order delivery unless he could do it through an app. If he ordered ramen at a PC café and they accidentally brought him a hotdog instead, he would just quietly eat it.

This was the same suffocating tension he felt at the start of a school year when no one in class knew each other and everyone just awkwardly watched for social cues.

Eunho swallowed hard, staring at the NPC like he was about to engage in a boss fight. Then, at last, he squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to take a step forward.