It was an unfamiliar alley.

“Ugh…”

Did I drink last night? No… no such memory. Then what the hell?

I blinked absentmindedly. The sky was annoyingly blue.

“…What’s that smell?”

The stench stabbed my nose, and I sat up. I turned my head around to find the source and then realized.

‘That smell’s coming… from me?’

A bit shocking, really. I didn’t know a human body could reek like this.

Honestly, it smelled like month-old food waste rotting in a dumpster.

‘What, did I crawl into a trash can drunk last night…?’

Suddenly anxious, I began piecing my memory back together.

Name: Lee Seo-jun.
Age: Twenty-four.

What day was yesterday? I thought hard, then gave up.

‘Since when did I ever care about dates anyway?’

I dropped the thought and got to my feet. Surprisingly, my body felt light. Definitely not like I’d been drinking.

“…What the hell.”

My clothes were weird too. I’d never buy anything this baggy. And dirty as hell, like something you wouldn’t wear even if it were free.

That’s when it really started sinking in. Or more like… I finally accepted what I’d been half-realizing all along.

“…No way.”

Seo-jun wandered toward the corner of the alley. First things first—figure out the situation. Whether it was a novel, another world, or whatever—he needed to know.

As he turned the corner, strange voices reached his ears.

“Feisty little thing, aren’t ya?”
“Better behave before I carve a hole in your gut!”
“Kyaaah!”

He stiffened. Damn it—he’d walked right into a crime scene. Worse, the criminals noticed him.

“The hell are you? Beat it, kid.”
“Uh—yes, sir.”

He quickly bowed his head and backed away. Mercifully, they seemed willing to let him go rather than mug him.

‘What kind of psycho carries a sword that big?’

The blade was longer than a man’s arm.

And their clothes… clearly not modern. They looked like they’d walked out of a wuxia novel.

Unless this was the set of a period drama, the situation made no sense.

Maybe he’d fallen into a martial arts world?

He tried recalling the countless wuxia novels he’d read, but he’d read too many. No use.

Or maybe this was just some crazy dream?

While he wrestled with the thought, another scream tore the air.

– “Help! Somebody! Please!”

Seo-jun stopped in his tracks. The scream pinned his feet down.

“Goddammit…”

What could he possibly do against sword-wielding thugs? Risking his life for a stranger? He didn’t even know if he could succeed.

Logically, he should just walk away.

“…Haah. Stop!”

But when he came to his senses, he was already standing at the corner again, shouting. Naturally, he locked eyes with the criminals once more.

‘Right. A hero in a novel would do this, right?’

What a damn nightmare.

“Well, well. Look who crawled back on his own.”
“Think he’s got a screw loose?”

The men chuckled. Meanwhile, a half-stripped woman crawled to Seo-jun, clutching his pants.

“S-sir, please… save—ahh!”

Thud!

Seo-jun’s knee smashed into her face, knocking her out. The criminals stared in disbelief.

Seo-jun, however, looked calm. Now that he was convinced this was a dream, his fear was gone.

Dropping into a martial world out of nowhere? Too ridiculous. Even if it wasn’t a dream, it’s not like he had much to live for anyway.

One of the men scowled.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“Listen, friends. You can’t just trust women blindly. They’ll stab you in the back the first chance they get.”

There was no guarantee she wasn’t with them. He wasn’t eager to die just yet.

‘Not that jumping in front of sword-wielders isn’t suicidal already…’

Still, he figured he could apologize later.

Even if he looked like a lunatic.

Ever seen someone stabbed in the back right before your eyes? He had. And leaving her at his back just didn’t feel safe.

“Tch. This guy’s just plain insane.”

One of the thugs advanced, sword in hand. Seo-jun steadied his shaky breath and raised a stance. Not martial arts—just a sloppy boxing guard.

“What a freak.”

The sword came down. He could see it clearly, like slow motion—the blade about to split him in half.

“…Huh?”

But his body didn’t move fast enough. His stomach ripped open, intestines spilling out.

“W-wait, what—”

Miraculously, he wasn’t cut in two. Maybe that was something to be grateful for.

The ground rushed up, his face smashed into dirt, and unbearable pain consumed him.

“Ghhhhh—”

Pain. That was the only thought left in his mind.

Then—darkness.

“Damn it, what a nightmare…”

A strange ceiling above. So it was a dream after all? Yeah—falling into a martial world was nonsense.

He chuckled weakly and sat up.

“Urghh…!!”

Pain exploded in his gut, and he writhed on the floor.

“Tch. Idiot.”
“Wh-who’s there…?”
“Stay down. If that wound bursts again, you’ll die for real.”

Through blurry vision, he saw a small figure—just a kid, maybe twelve or thirteen—looking down at him.

“…Thought I was dead for sure.”

Seo-jun wiped drool from his lips and eyed the kid.

“…Hey, who are you?”
“What? Not even a thank you?”

The boy poked him with a toe.

“Ugh…!”

Pain shot through Seo-jun, making his vision flash white.

“You little—”
“What?!”
“…Agh.”

Grimacing, Seo-jun rolled his eyes toward the broken ceiling. The night sky peeked through.

‘The sky?’

Finally noticing, he looked around. The place was a wreck, barely standing. He lay inside a collapsing shack.

“…Where is this?”
“My house.”
“And where’s that supposed to be?”
“Near where you collapsed.”

The kid clicked his tongue.

“Use your brain. Think I’d drag you far? You were heavy enough already.”
“…Guess you’re stronger than you look. A little kid dragging a grown man, huh?”
“What?”

Pfft. The boy burst out laughing.

“Grown man? Do you even have pubes, old man? You don’t look that much older than me.”
“…What?”

Seo-jun blinked, then glanced at his hands.

“…The hell.”

Small. Short. Not quite a child’s, but definitely not an adult’s either.

“…Unbelievable.”

His body was younger. But his mind was intact.

What a sick joke.

“…Forget it. Whatever.”

Life. Somehow, it’d sort itself out.

It didn’t.

Ten days later, Seo-jun stretched his recovering body. His wound wasn’t fully healed, but nearly so. The speed was unnatural.

How the hell did he survive? His guts had been spilling out. Normally, that meant infection and death.

Too many unanswered questions.

“Haaah. Whatever. I mean, me turning younger makes even less sense.”

The boy—Chun-bong—snorted.

“Again with that nonsense? Don’t you get tired of it?”
“I’m telling you, I really am younger now.”
“Bullshit. If you’re gonna lie, at least try harder.”
“Shut it, Chun-bong.”
“…”

Seo-jun glanced at him—his so-called savior.

“…Should’ve left you there,” the boy muttered.

Seo-jun sighed.

“Well, just don’t push yourself. That wound wasn’t something you recover from in ten days.”
“…But I did.”
“Exactly. Weird as hell.”

Ignoring Chun-bong’s curious stare, Seo-jun fell into thought.

‘Weird, huh…’

After ten days with the kid, he was certain. This wasn’t a dream. It was real.

And it was martial world.

‘But something’s off…’

Just three days ago, he’d been poking Chun-bong with his toe when the kid snapped:

“Damn it! It’s almost twelve o’clock, let me sleep!”

Twelve o’clock? What kind of wuxia world talks like that? Should’ve been “midnight hour” or something.

‘I’ve never read a wuxia like this…’

So maybe it wasn’t a novel. Maybe just some twisted knockoff of a martial world?

His thoughts broke when Chun-bong tapped his shoulder.

“Hey, Lee Seo-jun.”
“What.”
“Time to earn your keep. You owe me, right?”

The boy crooked a finger at him from the broken doorway.

“Come on. Big bro will teach you how to survive the back alleys.”
“…You sure you’re a guy? You don’t really look like one.”
“…You bastard.”

Chun-bong backed away, covering himself. Seo-jun scowled.

“Relax! I’m not gonna do anything weird!”
“…Suspicious.”
“Just shut up and follow me.”

“By the way… when you found me, was there anything else nearby?” Seo-jun asked while blowing on a steaming dumpling.

“Nope.”
“…I see. Kinda bugs me though.”

What happened to that woman? He muttered a quick prayer and took another bite.

“…Hey, are there no meat dumplings around here?”
“…Ungrateful bastard.”
“Seriously, this tastes like crap.”

Stuffed only with dough. No filling.

“Hah! Then you go steal next time. I’ll keep watch.”
“…Fine.”
“‘Fine’ my ass! Just shut up and eat it!”

The kid smacked him. Strong for a brat. Maybe that’s what “martial world hands” felt like.

“Man, if only some martial arts skill would fall from the sky. Next time I see those bastards, I wanna beat them to death.”

Seo-jun grumbled, shoving the last dumplings into his mouth. Chun-bong just stared at him.

“…Wha, mmmf.”
“You wanna learn martial arts?”
“…Cough—what!?”

He hacked up dumplings, spitting them out on the dirt. Chun-bong eyed the wasted food wistfully, but Seo-jun grabbed his cheeks.

“For real!?”
“…It’s nothing big. Just the ‘Three Talents Sword Style.’”

Who cared how a back-alley brat knew martial arts? Timing was all that mattered.

“Thank you, Master!”
“…Idiot.”