[Congratulations on your discharge.]
[Current Physical Condition: Optimal (Recovery Complete)]
[Today's Daily Quest has arrived.]
Ding!
With a cheerful notification sound, a blue, translucent status window appeared clearly in Gangcheol’s vision. As he was leaving the hospital’s main entrance, Gangcheol stopped for a moment and carefully read through the quest details. His seasoned thirty-five-year-old soul knew. In a system-type fortuitous encounter like this, the most important thing wasn’t a flashy finishing move or a last-minute reversal—it was the “stacks” you built up day after day like dust.
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[Daily Quest: The Cornerstone of Legend]
- Details: A great tower is built upon solid ground. The first thing needed to become a legend is the patience to endure the tedious basics repeated every day.
- Objectives:
1. Cardio Commute: Power-walk or run on the way to school (maintain heart rate above 130 bpm for 15 minutes)
2. Nutritionally Balanced Diet: No refined carbohydrates or excessive fat intake (protein-focused intake)
3. Practical Sense Calibration: Record at least 20 effective touches during PE class or a lunchtime soccer match
- Completion Rewards:
Stat Point: [Strength] +0.1 or [Stamina] +0.1 (Choose 1)
Experience: 100 EXP
Additional Effect: Immediately reduces muscle fatigue by 30% upon quest completion
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“......So it gives stats by 0.1. Figures. Even on my second run at life, there’s no such thing as getting everything for free.”
Gangcheol smiled bitterly, but his eyes gleamed sharply.
In his previous life, when the cartilage in his knees had been completely worn away and his ankle ligaments had been in tatters, he would have been ready to sell his soul to the devil for even a 0.1% recovery. The number 0.1 was like a brick that, once stacked and stacked, would form an insurmountable “wall.” For these chopstick-like legs of his now, even 0.1 in stats was something to be grateful for.
“Good. If I do it a thousand times at 0.1 each, that’s 100. No big deal. Three years should do it.”
Bathed in the warm sunlight outside the window, Gangcheol tightened the laces of his sneakers once more. The air of 2013 felt much clearer and sweeter than it would twenty-some years later. Even the smell of exhaust felt nostalgic, probably because of the vitality this body possessed.
“Gangcheol! Your bag is heavy, let Mom carry it. You still have to be careful. It’s only been a day since your bones healed.”
“Come on, Mom. I’m fine. I’m a soccer player now. This much weight is perfect for training my forearms and core. I’m going ahead!”
Leaving his mother’s worried voice behind, Gangcheol began to run. He wasn’t simply running. He was performing a precise cardio workout, checking the heart rate displayed in real time in the corner of his vision and maintaining it at exactly 130 bpm.
‘My body really is different. This lightness, this springiness.’
If it had been the broken body from his previous life, he wouldn’t have lasted even a minute before his knees made a grinding cartilage sound, and he would have been gasping for breath. But now was different. Every time the sensation of his soles kicking off the ground was transmitted to his brain, he felt an electrifying catharsis. This eleven-year-old body, reconstructed by the system like a blank white canvas, held boundless potential.
‘Besides... it said Grade A, right? At elementary school level, that basically means I’m Usain Bolt.’
Gangcheol increased his speed a little more. He charged up the hill on his way to school without hesitation. Even the way he grew short of breath was enjoyable, because it felt like proof that he was alive.
In front of Haeseong Elementary School’s gate.
The old concrete wall and the joystick arcade machines placed in front of the stationery store welcomed Gangcheol. As he appeared among the children arriving at school, a stir spread instantly.
“Hey, look over there! It’s Ma Gangcheol!”
“It really is! I heard he got hit by a truck and came back from the dead. It was even on the news!”
“But why does he look so fine? He doesn’t even have a cast! Does he not have any scars either?”
“I heard the chairman of LK Group took him by helicopter and got him treated?”
The children’s gazes were filled with a mixture of awe and curiosity. The return to school of the “little hero who threw himself in front of a truck to save a child” was the biggest news in the entire school. Gangcheol leisurely ignored the flood of stares and walked down the hallway.
When he stood in front of the classroom door, a strange tension washed over him. Despite having the mentality of a thirty-five-year-old man, his eleven-year-old body seemed to be reacting.
‘Whew... Don’t tremble and embarrass yourself, Ma Gangcheol. You’re someone who’s played at the Santiago Bernabéu... no, someone who wanted to play there.’
Slide—.
When he opened the classroom door, the noisy Class 3 of Grade 5 fell silent as if cold water had been poured over it. Above the blackboard hung the class motto, [Upright and Spirited], and the children sat at their desks, staring intently at Gangcheol.
“......”
The one who broke that awkward silence was a heavy voice from the back of the classroom.
“Hey! Ma Gangcheol! Were you really alive?”
With a loud clatter, a buzz-cut boy came running over, knocking into desks. It was Kim Cheolsu.
Even when Gangcheol had completely failed in his previous life and spent his nights drinking in a semi-basement room, this was the only guy who had come to see him with a bottle of soju and stayed by his side. That Cheolsu from those days was alive and moving before his eyes.
“Cheolsu.”
“You crazy bastard! I thought you were dead! The news said you got crushed by a truck! Are you actually a robot? Like iron arms and iron legs or something?”
As Cheolsu made a fuss while patting Gangcheol all over, Gangcheol chuckled and lightly smacked him on the head.
“It’s because I’ve got dense bones, you punk. And what do you mean robot? Say cyborg.”
“That’s the same thing! Wow, I’m seriously glad. Without you, we lost every soccer game to Class 4 at lunchtime. Do you know how much that bastard Park Minsu has been acting up? He thinks he’s Ronaldo.”
Just then, someone came walking over with crisp little steps behind Cheolsu. Neatly braided hair and sharp, capable eyes. It was Han Sehui, the class president of Class 3, Grade 5, and Gangcheol’s first love.
“Hey, Kim Cheolsu. Don’t cling to a patient so much. Move.”
Sehui pushed Cheolsu aside and stood in front of Gangcheol. With her arms crossed, she looked him up and down. Her expression was haughty, but there was relief in her faintly trembling eyes.
“I heard you were discharged... and you really came? You became a total news star.”
“Yeah. I recovered quickly because I wanted to see you, class president. In my dream, you said, ‘Gangcheol, wake up,’ so I sprang right up.”
“Wh-what are you saying... I guess you hurt your head too. You’re seriously crazy.”
At Gangcheol’s sly reply, Sehui’s face flushed bright red. If he had been the timid eleven-year-old Gangcheol from his previous life, he would have waved his hands and said, “N-no, that’s not it!” But the current him had the seasoned composure of a man in his mid-thirties.
Even as Sehui snapped at him, she quietly placed her own notebook on Gangcheol’s desk before turning away.
“This... has the class notes. I’m only showing you because you were hospitalized. If you lose it, you’re dead. And the teacher said to come to the faculty office when you arrive.”
‘She’s cute, seriously.’
Gangcheol put down his bag and sat at his desk. The rough texture of the wooden desk, the smell of chalk dust. Everything felt nostalgic. It felt as if the life of the real eleven-year-old Ma Gangcheol was finally beginning.
As soon as the bell signaling the end of fourth period rang, the cafeteria transformed into a massive battlefield. For children in 2013, school lunch was the most important part of the day.
“Gangcheol, let’s go! Today’s menu is pork cutlet! Awesome! They’re serving sausages too!”
Cheolsu drooled as he tugged Gangcheol by the arm. But in one corner of Gangcheol’s vision, the quest window was still floating.
[Objective 2: Nutritionally Balanced Diet - In Progress]
‘Pork cutlet... You want me to eat that lump of flour with breading thicker than the meat?’
Standing in front of the cafeteria serving line, Gangcheol frowned. The menu was rice, seaweed soup, mini pork cutlets, stir-fried sausage and vegetables, and napa cabbage kimchi. It was a typical high-carbohydrate, high-sodium, high-fat meal. It might be tasty for growing children, but to Gangcheol, who had to build the “best physique,” it was no different from poison.
Gangcheol stared intently at the nutritionist standing in front of the soup pot.
“What’s wrong? Do you want more soup?”
“Teacher.”
Gangcheol spoke in a low, serious voice.
“For the muscle synthesis and bone density formation of growing children, I believe the protein ratio should be increased by at least 30% compared to now. Rather than fried foods, I’d like to recommend cooking methods such as boiled pork slices or chilled chicken breast salad. This meal is too centered on ‘refined carbohydrates.’ I’m worried about blood sugar spikes.”
“......Pardon?”
The nutritionist’s ladle stopped in midair. The children around them began whispering. Cheolsu, who had been standing behind him, was horrified and covered Gangcheol’s mouth.
“S-sorry! He’s still not over the medication yet! Teacher, please give him lots of soup! Lots of pork cutlets too!”
Cheolsu dragged Gangcheol off to a corner seat.
“Hey! Are you crazy? Talking about protein and whatever to the nutritionist? Do you want to be branded a traitor and killed? And pork cutlets are so delicious! If you’re not going to eat yours, give them to me!”
“Cheolsu, you’re a winger. Speed is your lifeline, so can you really afford to accumulate fat like that? Your diet is your skill. You’ll regret it later when you’re playing in the Premier League.”
“Ah, I don’t care! Premier League or whatever, I like pork cutlets right now! Just eat!”
With a sigh, Gangcheol used his chopsticks to carefully peel the breading off the pork cutlet and finished his meal focusing on the lean meat. The artificial taste of the sauce stimulated his tongue, but he focused thoroughly on the purpose of protein intake.
[Objective 2 Complete! Strength stat +0.1 has been applied as a reward.]
He felt a faint heat spread from inside his body. It wasn’t simply a placebo effect. The system was shaping his body in real time.
Fifth period, PE class.
At last, the moment had come. The fifth graders gathered on the dirt-dusty field.
“All right, today is free soccer! Boys, gather near the goalpost!”
At the sound of the PE teacher’s whistle, the boys swarmed toward the center of the field. Their opponents were their rivals, Class 4. Park Minsu, the alley boss of Class 4 and a promising member of the school soccer team, asked provocatively.
“Hey, Ma Gangcheol! Can you even run? Why don’t you pretend you’re hurt and sit on the bench watching dodgeball? Or don’t go showing off trying to save someone again and get hurt.”
“Sure. If you let me play as the extra, I’ll think about it.”
“Hmph, all talk. Just be your team’s goalkeeper. If the ball comes, dodge it.”
Gangcheol chuckled and retied his sneaker laces.
‘Let’s check it. The gap between the S-grade experience in my head and this body that the system certified as A-grade.’
The match began. From the start, the ball moved back and forth fiercely. Park Minsu of Class 4 was indeed worthy of being called a promising player. Using his physique, which was a full head taller than his peers, he pushed forward roughly. At elementary school level, physicality was power itself.
“Hey! Ma Gangcheol! Over here!”
Cheolsu raised his hand from the flank. Gangcheol’s eyes flashed.
[Skill Activated]
[The movements of all 22 players on the field are grasped at a glance.]
The entire field spread out in his mind like a floor plan. Who was moving where, and where the empty spaces were. It was as if he were looking down at a game screen from above. This was the vision of a veteran.
‘Class 3’s defense has loosened. If Minsu comes forward, the back opens up.’
Gangcheol slowly moved to the center and waited for his chance.
The ball rolled in front of Gangcheol’s foot. Park Minsu charged in triumphantly.
“Move! If you don’t want to get hurt!”
Just as Minsu’s shoulder was about to slam into Gangcheol, Gangcheol’s brain had already calculated the future 0.5 seconds ahead. Perfect timing created by thirty-five years of experience from his previous life.
‘Phantom dribble, La Croqueta. Shift my center of gravity slightly to the left, hook the ball with my right foot, slip past him. Then shoot immediately with my left foot.’
His brain sent out a command signal at 100% output.
But.
“Ah...!”
His feet got tangled.
His head had already moved to the other side, but his legs couldn’t keep up with that speed. His ankle didn’t bend to the angle he had imagined, and the contraction speed of his muscles was minutely slow.
‘Damn...!’
Gangcheol fell to the dirt on one knee. Park Minsu snorted and stole the ball away.
“What was that, Ma Gangcheol! You struck a pose and then turned into a klutz? You tripped all by yourself?”
“Puhahaha! Looks like his legs gave out!”
The Class 4 kids held their bellies and laughed. Gangcheol brushed off the dirt and stood up, biting his lip. More than humiliation, what he felt was realization.
‘I see. This is what the status window’s [Mismatch] warning meant.’
It wasn’t that the hardware was bad. Grade A was excellent. The problem was that his software was S+ grade.
It was the same principle as an F1 driver operating an ordinary passenger car with the feel of stepping on the accelerator in a race car—the engine would burst, or the car would spin out.
‘This body hasn’t been tuned enough yet to carry out the commands my brain sends at 100%. It overloaded and lagged.’
Gangcheol calmly steadied his breathing. It was time for the experience of a thirty-five-year-old veteran to shine. If his body couldn’t do it, then he simply had to “downgrade” his brain’s commands to match his body.
“Cheolsu! Come down! I’ll feed it to you from the back! You just run!”
Instead of forcing a breakthrough, Gangcheol began to solve the match through passing. Abandoning flashy techniques and finding the “most efficient timing” that could be executed within an eleven-year-old body’s physical capabilities. That was the true objective of this match.