Chapter 72 …
The next morning.
“Ugh… haa.”
Bathed in the morning sunlight, Do-hyeon stretched as he woke up.
He checked the time—8:10 a.m.
Maybe because he hadn’t been discharged from the army that long ago, he woke up like clockwork every morning even without setting an alarm.
‘Well, having a routine is good.’
For a more efficient game life, a regular lifestyle was important.
It wasn’t just something people said—there was actual proof. Supposedly there were even scientific reasons for it, and it was said that all the famous rankers of God of Savior lived disciplined lives.
“Let’s make today a productive one too.”
After making that resolution to himself, Do-hyeon stepped out into the living room.
On the table was a stew—his mother, Chae Mi-sook, must have prepared breakfast before leaving. This time it was spicy tuna stew. Beside it, wrapped in plastic, was a plate of Vienna sausages and fried eggs.
“She even made all this… She didn’t have to.”
Before he was discharged, she hadn’t paid much attention to breakfast. But now that he was an adult, she seemed to take even more care of him.
The food was still warm, as if she had left not long ago. Do-hyeon scooped himself some rice and sat down.
As usual, he easily polished off two bowls, then washed the dishes and glanced around the living room.
There was no sign of anyone.
‘Where’d she go? Did she head out?’
Only after checking his phone did Do-hyeon realize it was Monday. He nodded.
Hyun-a, a college student, obviously wouldn’t be home at this hour.
He had been discharged on Friday, so seeing everyone at home had thrown off his sense of normalcy.
“Guess I should clock in too.”
He couldn’t lose to everyone else spending their weekdays diligently, so Do-hyeon quickly returned to his room.
He wanted to dive straight into the capsule, but he restrained himself.
There was something he needed to check first.
“Wonder if the views went up?”
He was talking about the NewTube video he had uploaded yesterday.
It hadn’t even been a full day yet, so it would’ve made sense to wait longer—but he couldn’t help being curious.
There was a reason NewTubers kept hitting refresh.
‘Now that I’m actually the one uploading, it’s nerve-wracking.’
Appearing in someone else’s video after an interview felt completely different from uploading content under his own name.
Swallowing hard, Do-hyeon opened NewTube and entered his channel.
The plain, unadorned channel greeted him.
It looked so bare it was almost pitiful.
“…??”
His face went blank.
Is this right?
He blinked several times, rubbed his eyes, then finally spoke.
“…What is this? Why are the views like this?”
3.4 million views.
Considering not even half a day had passed, it was an absurd number.
Even as he refreshed, new comments appeared and the view count continued to rise.
—Ahhh, already my 12th time watching. I just can’t get tired of it.
—I’m dying to stan you but there’s no content… Please upload more videos. Please.
—Lost souls… come join the Kasin Church.
—I’ll hold my breath until the next upload. Hup!
—Help! Someone died here!
—Holy shit… Best play ever. Is this Korean? I’m shocked.
—Kaiser, why aren’t you uploading more videos?
—No but seriously, his subscriber growth speed is insane lol. At this rate he’ll hit a million in no time.
Seeing comments in various foreign languages, Do-hyeon froze.
‘A million?’
Still somewhat dazed, he hurriedly checked the subscriber count.
There it was.
[Subscribers: 794K]
“Crazy.”
It was really racing toward one million.
Just nine hours ago, he had thought he’d be satisfied if he could just hit 100K.
Had all this really happened overnight?
He had expected good inflow given the situation—but this was beyond that.
It was so unexpected that instead of joy, he felt more bewildered. It didn’t feel real.
“…Maybe hitting a million subscribers isn’t that hard?”
He even found himself thinking that.
Of course, it was nonsense.
Even though the market had grown compared to the past, a million subscribers was still considered a major corporation-tier channel.
It was just that even bigger mega-corporations had appeared above them. A million-subscriber NewTuber was still someone who could boast proudly anywhere.
“Doesn’t feel real. And what’s Kasin Church? A fan cafe?”
Curious about the strange name he saw in the comments, he searched it.
It really was a fan cafe.
With over 40,000 members, it was fairly sizable.
And it was made up of his fans.
The feeling was strange.
Back when he dominated in Demrock, fan cafes were common for him. But after the game died, they had practically vanished.
To have a fan cafe again after so long felt oddly nostalgic.
‘But it says there was one before too? Why don’t I remember? Hm. Maybe it was small back then.’
Not thinking too deeply about it, Do-hyeon turned off his phone.
What had started as a misunderstanding had worked in his favor.
The biggest hurdle—NewTube—had been cleared.
Now everyone would be watching his every move.
Even bold individuals would feel pressure in this situation, but Do-hyeon was used to it.
Meeting people’s expectations was practically routine for him.
“Connect.”
Clearing his thoughts, Do-hyeon lay in the capsule and closed his eyes.
It was time to focus on his main job.
[Connecting to God of Savior.]
[Have an enjoyable adventure.]
When he opened his eyes, the now-familiar landscape of the other world spread out before him.
[Welcome to the Paradise of Adventure.]
[Guardian ‘Jihad Black’ loyalty has increased.]
…
[Guardian ‘Jihad Black’ loyalty has increased.]
“It went up again.”
The system window greeted him as soon as he logged in. Do-hyeon skimmed through it.
There wasn’t much of note—just that Jihad’s loyalty had increased. But the amount stood out.
[Loyalty: 40 / 100]
‘It went up by 10?’
A full ten points.
Even considering it rose somewhat after visiting the Guardian Room, it was abnormal compared to the previous 18—even after all that beating.
Perhaps acknowledging that, the description beneath it had changed too.
[Loyalty is high. You maintain a harmonious relationship with your Guardian.]
“Huh.”
Just the other day, that guy had been constantly looking for a chance to stab him in the back.
Now they were in a “harmonious relationship.”
Such rapid development in just a few days left him feeling strange.
A bit proud. A bit dumbfounded.
As he scratched his head, Jihad and Eliza appeared and spoke.
—You’re here, Master?
—Riza!
The moment he turned his head, Eliza threw herself at him, rubbing her face against him affectionately.
As he patted her, something strange brushed against his hand at her neck.
When he lightly grabbed it, he saw a simple long necklace with a small gem embedded in it.
“Huh? A necklace?”
—Riza! Riza-riza!
—Oh, that’s Eliza’s favorite necklace.
—Riza!
Eliza beamed brightly, nodding.
Do-hyeon was about to nod back, then paused.
‘Was that always there? What?’
He wasn’t entirely sure, but if it had been there from the beginning, wouldn’t he have noticed?
And that wasn’t the only strange thing.
Yesterday she had been so reluctant to part with him—now she was cheerful, as if she’d just finished playing outside.
“What’s with that bright mood? You were depressed yesterday.”
—Hehe, something happened. The walkway was amazing, right, Eliza?
—Riza!
“What happened?”
The two pressed their faces together and giggled, making Do-hyeon frown slightly. Eliza tried to explain.
—Riza-riza! Riza… riza!
“…Translate, please.”
—Ah. So…
Do-hyeon couldn’t understand a word.
—Riza…
Eventually Jihad took over explaining, and though Eliza looked sulky at first, she quickly regained her energy and chimed in enthusiastically.
After listening, Do-hyeon nodded.
“So your Guardian Rooms merged? That’s Eliza’s leash—no, her cherished necklace—and it came along with the merge?”
—That’s right.
—Riza!
Clapping his hands, Jihad looked visibly at ease.
Well, they must have been able to catch up to their heart’s content. And higher loyalty was good for Do-hyeon too.
Still, it raised questions.
‘Hmm. Is that normal? Maybe because Eliza entered under Jihad’s command…’
He had never heard of Guardian Rooms merging before.
It was unusual, but what did it matter?
Maybe it was because she had become subordinate. There were many possibilities—but the result was good.
He’d look into it later if he got the chance.
“For now, let’s go—”
“There! Over there!”
“A small figure in a robe with someone in black… Confirmed. Suspected Kaiser spotted. Requesting backup…”
Before he could finish speaking, the area suddenly grew noisy.
Annoyed, Do-hyeon turned around.
Players.
Players in all directions were pointing at him.
“What do we do? Yeah? Just hold him down somehow?”
“We saw him first! Move!”
“Grab him first! Out of the way!”
The snippets of conversation sounded rather violent.
He was momentarily startled—but he wasn’t clueless about how things worked. And he wasn’t someone who would freeze up over this.
‘It’s already started. Were they camping here?’
The fact that they were closing in within minutes of his login made it obvious.
They’d grab him first and then try to negotiate—or suppress him outright.
Either way, to them, Do-hyeon was a jackpot.
With him at the center of attention right now, if they succeeded in recruiting him to their guild, that was profit. And if they crushed the so-called “return of a god,” they could gain fame and attention for themselves.
This wasn’t limited to guilds either.
‘If you count the small fry trying to get famous off this… ugh, they’ll swarm like crazy.’
PKers and fame-hungry players would be lining up by the truckload.
This was exactly why he had avoided fame at low levels.
Excessive attention without power was a poisoned chalice.
To think he’d end up like this just four days after starting God of Savior.
Maybe fate really was a thing.
Recalling how he had experienced this countless times in Demrock, Do-hyeon drew Cheonbyeon (千變).
—W-What? Master, they’re surrounding us.
“I know. Get ready.”
—What are we doing?
“Breaking through. Follow closely.”
—Riza?
Taking his stance, Do-hyeon exhaled sharply.
Hup!
And then he dashed.
Not toward an escape route—
But straight toward them.
The scouts flinched at his unexpected move.
“W-What? Why’s he coming this way?”
“Block him! If we all gather, what can he do?”
“Form up!”
They weren’t amateurs.
Judgment made in an instant, they quickly formed a formation.
Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.
Spread wide, shield-bearers in the front, layers of players stacked behind them.
Unless there was an overwhelming level gap, it was a human wall impossible to break through.
Turning directions now would only let them chase him down.
“Hah. Let’s see you try breaking through.”
They might be scouts, but they were veterans who had spent months grinding in Brion.
At least within Brion, they were relatively high level.
But Do-hyeon didn’t hesitate.
[Cheonbyeon (千變) transforms into ‘Silver Iron Shield.’]
Whooong—!
“H-Huh!?”
He threw the transformed shield like a boomerang.
The front-line shield-bearer hastily crouched and raised his shield, not expecting him to throw his weapon.
Fortunately, his reaction was quick.
At this rate, he should be able to block it.
And the moment the shields collided—
KWAANG!
“Guh!?”
