Chapter 176
Chapter 176. Chi-Hyun Effect
The regression of his Golden Ratio made Chi-Woo realize how much he lacked proper training. But did that mean all the training he had done until now was meaningless? That wasn’t the case, of course. It was because of what he had done that he was able to prevent Golden Ratio from deteriorating further, and above all, he had developed a useful habit.
Whenever Chi-Woo ran, he didn’t decide beforehand how many laps he would run, or for how long. He did that at first, but once he started running with Ru Amuh, he changed to running until he was breathless and couldn’t move his legs anymore. He ran and ran until he reached his limit. And the habit he had cultivated stuck with him even now, which was what made Chi-Hyun see Chi-Woo in a new light.
Chi-Hyun thought his brother would surely whine about his training and beg to shorten it in no time. But instead of whining, Chi-Woo seriously dived into training his lower body without any complaints. And today, Chi-Woo dropped the barbell and sat down only after he felt that it wasn’t going to get any heavier.
“...Good work,” Chi-Hyun said in a quiet voice and cleared his throat. “Rest. Let your legs recover and catch your breath.”
“Can I...practice my purification breathing...?” Chi-Woo asked with his face all scrunched up.
“It’s not a bad idea.”
As soon as Chi-Hyun gave his permission, Chi-Woo groaned and pulled himself up to get into a lotus position; it wasn’t an easy task considering that he had lost all senses in his thighs. Seeing this, Chi-Hyun helped Chi-Woo get into a proper stance. Chi-Woo closed his eyes and began inhaling and exhaling.
“Ugh...” Chi-Woo’s scrunched-up face gradually relaxed.
‘That’s some impressive resilience.’
Chi-Hyun studied Chi-Woo’s condition closely and stroked his chin. As Chi-Woo fervently engaged in his training, Chi-Hyun had not stopped thinking about his brother for a single moment.
‘His recovery is too fast even if his breathing is helping him,’ Chi-Hyun thought. But the answer to this mystery was inside Chi-Woo’s user information. ‘It’s probably because of Divine Blood.’ It was a rare ability that facilitated regeneration and fast recovery and even helped the user resist magic spells. Not even Chi-Hyun had it. In the first place, it was very rare for heroes to have such a cheat-like ability, the only exception being the Ho Lactea. This ability was known to be only exclusive to descendants of gods.
But even to the Ho Lactea, the ability was a rare asset. Chi-Hyun recalled what his mother had told him one time. ‘It’s hopeless for those with a blood purity of 1/1,024 or 1/512...there’s a possibility for those at 1/256 or 1/128. For double-digits denominator and lower, there’s a higher possibility...’
The Ho Lactea’s bloodline could be described in fractions of 1/2—1/1024, 1/512, 1/216, 1/64, 1/32, 1/12, and so on. The lower the denominator, the greater the percentage of divine blood. Most members of the Ho Lactea were born in triple or quadruple digits, and very, very rarely, someone was born in the double digits. Besides their progenitor, Chi-Hyun had only known one of them in the single-digit category, but now that he had witnessed Chi-Woo’s recovery, his brother seemed to be the second person with such a high percentage of divine blood. Although the rank of Chi-Woo’s Divine Blood was still low, Chi-Hyun could tell that Chi-Woo’s blood was incomprehensibly pure. At least a quarter or even half of his blood was divine. Realizing this, Chi-Hyun’s face darkened.
‘...If the Ho Lactea finds out about this, they’re gonna go crazy.’ Chi-Hyun raked his fingers through his hair and smiled bitterly. It was already a done deal. Since they couldn’t turn things back to how it was, he needed to do his best right now.
‘They might request his hand for marriage even more fervently than the Afrilith did.’ Chi-Hyun sighed and spoke up, “If you’ve recovered properly, get up and recommence training.”
Soon afterward, Chi-Woo squirmed out of his seat and got up. The pain didn’t all disappear, but it had lessened considerably, and Chi-Woo didn’t groan anymore.
“Let’s get to the next training,” Chi-Hyun said coldly. “Now that I think about it...you said you can run pretty well, right?”
Chi-Woo turned to where his brother was pointing with his index finger.
“Go there.” It was a tall peak reaching high into the sky, half-covered by clouds. Chi-Woo’s forehead creased... How strange. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed such a big mountain near the capital until now. It was his first time seeing it, in fact.
“You can run, walk, or even use your exorcism mana. Go there and come back. One round trip.”
“Just once? Really?” Chi-Woo asked suspiciously.
Chi-Hyun nodded.
“That much is... No.” Chi-Woo shook his head. “There must be a catch. Do you think I would get fooled again?”
“You know me well.”
“Ha—” Chi-Woo lowered his head. “Are my senses going to be suddenly restricted with rocks rolling down when I’m climbing the mountain?”
“I don’t know what in the world made you think that would happen...” Chi-Hyun had a bemused look on his face. “Hm...actually, that might be a decent idea.”
“...What?”
“That way, you will be forced to experience... You could die a thousand times, of course, but if I create an illusion... The issue would be whether or not you can endure it through your mental fortitude...” As Chi-Hyun seriously considered the idea, Chi-Woo trembled in fright. He felt chills all over his body. Chi-Woo knew his brother always did what he said he would.
“I’m gonna go! I’m going right now!” Thus, Chi-Woo immediately began to run. He kept his guard up in case of possible dangers. Surprisingly, not much happened. He had expected logs to come flying or arrows to rain down on him, but nothing happened after ten, twenty, and thirty minutes.
‘What?’ After running without resting, Chi-Woo sensed that something was wrong. Although the mountain looked far away, he had thought he would be able to reach there in no time. No matter how much he ran, however, the distance between them didn’t seem to decrease in the slightest. It might be his imagination, but he felt like the mountain had become even more distant from him.
‘No way...’ Had he been floundering in one spot? Chi-Woo looked back, and was bewildered to find that he could no longer see his starting point or his brother. Thus, it seemed definite he had run quite a distance.
‘Was it a mirage?’ All sorts of thoughts surfaced in his mind as he experienced the impossible. Chi-Woo decided to keep running for now, and an hour passed like that. The peak, however, remained as distant as ever. Just to try it out, Chi-Woo drew his exorcism mana and increased his speed significantly; the mountain peak drifted far away.
‘Shit?’ Releasing the energy, he found the peak back to its original position. And when Chi-Woo tried slowing down and walking this time, the peak moved farther away again.
‘Shit!’ Now the situation was clear. The peak would not come closer until Chi-Woo reached his limit; no, the distance could be reset again once he reached his limit—it all depended on what his brother had decided. It was a done deal whether Chi-Woo ran or used exorcism mana. He ran with all his might while cursing up a storm inside his mind.
And his prediction had been right on the mark. When he started to taste something sweet in the back of his throat and ran out of breath, Chi-Woo finally reached the foot of the mountain and was able to climb it.
Gasp! Gasp! Exhaustion made Chi-Woo notice things he hadn’t noticed before. Running on a mountainous path was completely different from running on flat land. The path was bumpy, and the terrain rougher than expected; moving each step took double the strength than when he was running on flat land. It was no wonder that Chi-Woo would be having such a hard time.
‘So tiring—’ Chi-Woo’s heart pounded as if it was going to explode, and his stomach ached every time he took a breath. Even though he did his best to breathe through his nose and mouth, his body kept asking for more oxygen. He couldn’t even tell whether he was running or frantically moving his arms and legs. He would have collapsed by this time in the past. He would have lain down and rested before getting up to wash up and staying at home until his stamina returned. If he could, he wanted to immediately fall to the ground and rest without thinking about anything. However, his body continued running. Only then did Chi-Woo realize the fundamental reason his golden ratio had regressed.
‘I...’ Even though he hadn’t set a goal for how long he should run, he had unconsciously set a limit inside his mind. He would stop running, thinking he had done enough even when his body could go, all because it was getting too hard. In a way, he had fallen into the trap of self-contradiction. On the other hand, his brother had set a clear goal for him—to just reach the top of the mountain once and come back. However, getting to his destination alone was extremely difficult. It felt as if he was being tested to the limits every second. After realizing he had been setting an endpoint for himself, Chi-Woo pushed his trembling legs, which were about to collapse, and got to the peak of the mountain.
“Huff! Huff, puff! Ack! Huff!” Chi-Woo put his hand on the mountain peak and struggled to breathe. Drool streaked down his mouth as he looked behind him. “...” It was a long way down from the top. Since he had to go back, he was only halfway finished. Bleak hopelessness overtook his heart as he thought about going through the same torment again. But what could he do? Chi-Hyun told him he could quit anytime, but as someone who was endearingly nicknamed tree-frog [1]by his mother, he wasn’t going to give up.
‘Let’s die...Yeah...Let’s just die....’ Chi-Woo stumbled and jumped down. Going down the mountain was twice as hard as going up. He ran with full attention, but lost concentration when he almost reached ground level. In an instant, Chi-Woo lost his footing and tumbled violently down the mountain without even the time to scream. Covered in dirt, he rolled and rolled through the soil, barely managing to come to a halt and lying with his limbs sprawled out. Whether he was far from the finish line or not, he decided to rest for now. He felt like he would really die if he ran any further.
‘No...’ Still, Chi-Woo didn’t feel comfortable resting, so he got into the lotus position and circulated his energy. Then he suddenly felt a coolness spread from his hip like water. The feeling of his body, which had been boiling like an active volcano, cooling down was indescribably pleasant. However, when the sensation reached his neck, Chi-Woo’s body floated up, and his eyes burst open. He looked around and murmured in a daze, “...What the fuck.”
No wonder he felt cool; he was submerged in water. The mountains had disappeared, and he was in the middle of the ocean. He scanned his surroundings, stunned, as if he couldn’t discern if this was a dream or real life.
“Quickly come back if you’ve rested enough.” He heard his brother’s voice coming from above his head. Chi-Woo tucked in his chin and poked his head out of the water. “...No way, you’re telling me to run there?” Chi-Woo looked up at Chi-Hyun with a disgruntled expression, and Chi-Hyun shook his head.
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Swim.”
Chi-Woo blinked at Chi-Hyun’s casual response. After a moment of silence, he said, “Are you joking?”
“Hmm.” Chi-Hyun crossed his arms. “Now that I think about it, the training you mentioned earlier—it seems like a pretty good idea—”
“Ah!” Chi-Woo frantically moved before his brother could continue. Of course, he didn’t forget to yell before he started swimming, “You bastard! Are you for real!?”
Swimming after a marathon. ‘Is this a triathlon or what!? Damn it!’ He alternated between his arms and moved his legs up and down nonstop.
–Wow!
Philip cackled as he watched Chi-Woo swim with all his might, while also admiring Chi-Hyun’s skill in pushing and pulling.
* * *
When they left the cave, it was around dawn. But now the sun was setting, coloring the entire world. Chi-Woo, who looked like a wet mouse, stumbled out of the ocean. After taking a few steps—
Thud. He fell flat on his face and didn’t move at all. ‘Ah...’ Chi-Woo’s eyes automatically closed when the soft soil touched his face. The ground felt like a better bed than anything else in the world to Chi-Woo right now. He didn’t even have the strength to lift a finger.
Chi-Hyun stared at his younger brother, who was flattened out like wet cotton. He was surprised. He hadn’t expected his brother to finish the course. It was not a bad achievement for the first day. Of course, they couldn’t just continue like this. One of the fundamental truths that Chi-Hyun learned while working as a hero was that hard work was not always the solution. Chi-Woo needed to work ‘well’ on the right path. However, this was something that Chi-Woo needed to realize and figure out by himself. Thus, what Chi-Hyun needed to do as his older brother right now was...
“Don’t sleep.” Chi-Hyun approached Chi-Woo and kicked him. “It’s not over yet.”
Chi-Woo opened his eyes with difficulty. He wasn’t even angry anymore; he was just madly desperate for sleep. “What more do I have to do...” Chi-Woo tried to get up while speaking in a dying voice, but was knocked down by another kick.
Chi-Hyun said, “I only told you to not fall asleep. You don’t have to get up.” And what followed was Chi-Hyun’s indiscriminate beating. In truth, it was not a beating, but a skill that healed a person with internal injuries, and this method was more dangerous and difficult for the person who used it than the recipient. Chi-Hyun gathered all his mana and hit his brother’s entire body. Chi-Woo didn’t scream like yesterday because he had no energy to even scream. He could only groan as he suffered intense pain.
After a while, Chi-Woo was ordered to do purification breathing. Only after forcing the awful dinner prepared by his brother down did Chi-Woo finally return to the cave. Right before he closed his eyes lying on his sleeping bag, a despairing thought came to him.
‘It’s so hard I want to die, but...it’s only been...’ One or two days since he’d first arrived here.
1. Often used to describe kids who don’t obey their parents and do the opposite of what they’re told to do (FMI: Korean Tree Frog Folktale) ☜