The Extra's Harem In Dead End Game

Chapter 21: Traning Time [1]

Turk Swordsman.

There was a new student there for the first time in a long time.

And he was not just any student.

He was a student who paid a whopping 20 gold coins.

An amount that made him feel burdened.

But Turk's position was firm.

Any student, even the son of a king, must be thoroughly taught without any compromise.

That was his belief and the way of the sword.

Because he was such a thorough man when it came to swords, he was able to continue using only the Imperial Type 8 swords for decades.

"I guess this isn't your first time learning swordsmanship," Turk said, glancing at the sword Max had brought.

"I brought it just in case."

"Okay. Let's pull it out."

"Okay."

Sling.

Max drew his sword.

A well-forged blade made from good metal.

He could tell at a glance that it was a considerable sword.

With that, Turk could be confident again that Max came from a good family.

"Let me try it first."

Turk also pulled out the real sword hanging on the wall.

It was an old iron sword that had been on the battlefield for a long time.

"I won't move an inch from here, so feel free to attack as you wish."

"Okay."

A small twinkle appeared in Turk's eyes at Max's unhesitating answer.

What they were holding now were real swords.

It was a fight with real swords.

A situation that an ordinary person would be reluctant to face.

But Max had no hesitation.

Well then, it's one of two things.

Either someone who is accustomed to swords or someone who is naturally not hesitant about swinging a sword at people.

'I wonder which side he is on.'

Shhh.

The blade cut through the air.

'The momentum is still there.'

A strange light appeared in Turk's eyes once again.

But.

'It's such a mess.'

Kaang!

Turk's sword struck Max's sword hard upward.

Unable to withstand the strong force, the sword fell out of Max's grasp.

Whirlyrick.

Bam.

A sword that flew and stuck in the ground.

That concluded the test.

'He has the momentum, but his technique is a mess.'

As expected of a seasoned inspector, Turk completed his evaluation in one go.

This kind of person is better to teach.

Technique can fill the void, but momentum is more determined by innate temperament.

Turk stared at Max.

"It's a shame, but you can't use your old swordsmanship."

The attack just now had a form.

But inside, there was no substance, and it was completely empty.

It means there was only an empty shell.

You can't use something like this.

But he knew very well that the parties involved would have difficulty accepting such facts.

No one would happily accept the verdict that the swordsmanship they have learned so far is useless.

Yet Turk spoke bluntly.

Because that's the kind of man he was when it came to swords.

But.

"What's the big deal? If it's just flashy trash, you should just throw it away."

Max spoke as if he felt relieved.

That also matched Turk's diagnosis exactly.

It was a reaction Turk had never experienced before.

He didn't expect that kind of reaction at all.

Rather, he was preparing to explain each and every objection.

But when it came out like that, he could only keep his mouth shut and blink his eyes.

Max said to him,

"Imperial Type 8."

"Yes?"

"That's true."

"… … ."

Turk thought seriously.

He wondered if that human was a descendant of the founder of the 8th Empire.

He had never seen anyone, other than himself, so obsessed with the Imperial Type 8.

"Hmm… … Then, let's begin the lesson in earnest."

* * *

*Gasp, gasp… …*

I kept taking heavy breaths.

My whole body was completely soaked in sweat that poured down like rain.

My hands and feet were shaking. I felt like I was going to collapse at any moment, but I held on.

I pretended to have everything under control, but honestly, it was embarrassing to end up like this.

"My physical condition is worse than I thought," the Turk clicked his tongue.

I took a deep breath and then answered, "That's because he was such a tough guy."

"Hmm..."

Turk looked at me as if he was at a loss for how to respond.

There probably aren't many people who would put themselves down like that. But I was just telling the truth.

"I drank alcohol like a dog."

"Excessive drinking is poison."

"I know. That's why I hung it up."

"Well done."

"But once you get in shape, you should drink again. Life without alcohol is a bit difficult."

"… …Okay, let's start again."

It was so hard I almost died, but I got up again. When you do it, do it with certainty. That is my theory… … .

"Then come down and strike a thousand times again."

… … What?

I barely managed to do it a thousand times, and I'm about to collapse, and he want me to do it a thousand times again?

Even when I have full stamina, I can barely do it at one intensity, and when I've completely lost stamina, he expect the same intensity?

This is makgeolli.

*… … Now I understand your hearts.*

I didn't know when I was playing the game.

Anyway, I'm not training myself, so what does it matter if it's hard or if I'm self-employed?

But when I actually experienced it like this, I could feel it painfully. Why couldn't the students endure it and kept running? It's not that the students are weak.

The person teaching is crazy.

*Ah, hold on, hold on. Mind control, mind control.*

I forcefully suppressed the urge to immediately throw up and run away.

It wasn't a matter of choice. It was a matter of survival.

Yeah, like a father who wants to quit work right away because it's dirty but has no choice but to go to work for his family.

I remembered the most difficult moment.

At that time, I had failed one job after another, and my living expenses were at rock bottom.

Memories of loading and unloading trucks in a poor logistics center without air conditioning in the middle of summer, sweating like rain to earn living expenses.

There were people who were struggling and crying every day, but I held on strong with the single-minded thought that if I didn't have money, I would starve.

When I think about it, I don't think I've ever lived so tenaciously as I did back then.

Because after I got a job, my mental state became ghostly again. What was needed now was the same tenacious mindset from back then.

"No problem."

I mustered up all my strength and swung my sword again.