Morning sunlight spilled across the wooden floor, golden and warm. Jiho sat outside the hut with his mother, legs crossed awkwardly on the grass as he stared into the distance, pretending to be deep in thought.
In truth?
'I can't believe I still have to wait another full day. Come on, System. Can't you give early access like those pay-to-win games?'
Han Soeun patted his head gently, humming a village lullaby under her breath as she sorted beans into a small basket.
"My boy, what are you thinking so hard about? It's your birthday tomorrow, not the emperor's coronation."
Jiho blinked. "Just wondering what kind of gift Papa will bring this time."
"Well, he better not bring another sword. I swear, if I see one more weapon in this house, I'll start stabbing the furniture in protest."
Jiho smiled.
His mother didn't know.Nobody knew.Tomorrow wasn't just another birthday.
It was the birthday.
The day everything changed.
He'd been counting down every hour since his second birthday. One year of waiting. One year of pretending to be a normal toddler while secretly doing stretches at midnight like a lunatic monk in diapers.
For the last five months, Jiho had been training in small, careful doses under the excuse of "playing in the mountains with Papa." Daesik had taken him into the outer forest occasionally, teaching him how to track animals, spot herbs, and identify dangerous terrain. All normal village father-son stuff.
But Jiho had taken every trip like a battlefield recon mission.Mapping land. Studying escape paths. Noting wildlife behavior.
Because once the Hyperbolic Time Chamber unlocked, this world wouldn't be a game anymore.
It would become a grindfest.
A test of patience, endurance, and pain.
And he would have no second chances.
That evening, just before sunset, Daesik returned home—his sleeves rolled up, face tired but content. He placed a small bundle on the table and grinned.
"Clothing. Real martial artist robes. The merchant said they're from one of the fringe sects. Handmade with reinforced stitching. If our boy's going to train, might as well look the part."
Jiho opened the bundle and nearly cried.Not because he was touched.But because the robes were... purple.
Bright, obnoxious purple. With little golden embroidery that looked like vines trying to choke the fabric.
'I look like a royal clown,' he thought as he held them up.
Soeun gasped. "Oh, they're adorable!"
"Yeah…" Jiho forced a smile. "Adorable."
Daesik chuckled. "Don't worry, son. When you get stronger, no one will laugh at your clothes. They'll be too busy watching your sword cut through bandits."
Jiho nodded.
In his head, he was already imagining it.
White void. One year inside. Brutal repetition. No distractions. No escape.
Just him and the grind.
That night, as the fire dimmed and his parents fell asleep, Jiho sat cross-legged in bed, staring at his tiny palms.
His muscles twitched slightly under the skin. Not much. Nothing showy. But enough to prove that even at two, he wasn't average.
And he had done all of that without a system.
'I've waited long enough. One more night. Just one more sleep.'
He looked over at his father's snoring figure. Then at his mother, curled up like a cat in a blanket.
He smiled softly.
'I'll protect them. I don't care if I have to become a monster to do it. No one touches my family. Not in this life.'
Then, as he lay back and closed his eyes, he whispered:
"Tomorrow… my real training begins."