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Dream Breaker - Chapter 68

The Swimming Emperor(12)

In the past, when there were no P’s aptitude Test machines, people couldn't find their own talents. Even the Emperor of Swimming, Nam Hae-soo, was not talented enough to be a swimmer.

But knowing one's aptitude?

"It must be Mr. Nam Hae-soo!"

The suspicious man who recommended 'singer' to his wife, Park Han-hee, who was preparing to be a track athlete, had to be Mr. Nam Hae-soo.

I was a fool to worry that he might have completely forgotten his real-life wife and started anew.

But just in case...

"I don't know why he suddenly recommended singing to you. Ah! Have you ever been to a karaoke together?"

"Of course not! It's too wasteful to pay to sing."

"Uh... I see."

I understood that she threw away the opportunity and talent to sing high notes to her heart's content.


"The man who seemed to know you well. There was one recently."

"Ah! That despicable man!"

"Could it be the same person?"

"It could be!"

Mr. Nam Hae-soo decided to seek help from the 'wife' he was still obsessed with.

Please find your 'husband'.

I judged that I had created a plausible connection and asked.

"Do you know his name?"

"I don't know. I wasn't interested."

"But you remember his face, right?"

"Um... He had an atmosphere like a second-generation chaebol with all the luxury flowing through his body."


A thought suddenly occurred to me.

The dream world revolves around the 'protagonist'.

Even if it's a setting like a middle school second-year student with an incurable disease, it seems natural.

Magical Boy Choi Kang-min.

Novel protagonist Kim Eun-jung.

If you have no abilities and are ugly, there's no reason to be captivated by dreams.

It's because life in the dream is so satisfying and happy that you can't wake up.

'If not...'

Like Song Seon-young, you might be obsessed with dreams because you want to change your past (aptitude).

Anyway, Nam Hae-soo is not an ordinary person.

"But it's probably not."


"If he's really a second-generation chaebol, he wouldn't go to a cram school, right? He can enter a prestigious university with money."


Could you enter a prestigious university with money in this era?

It's a series of bizarre and shocking events.

'But he must be a second-generation chaebol. Either he's a chaebol himself.'

Wouldn't Nam Hae-soo, who had experienced living in the past, easily know how to make money?

There's no way.

In other words, the purpose of him attending a cram school with a lot of money is not for college.

It's because his wife is attending that school!

The purpose must have been to create a natural meeting and empathic connection.

"I had fun today."

"Me too! See you tomorrow!"



The path I need to take in this world has become clear.

"About what we talked about last time."


"Can you give me some time?"

"Do you mean... wait until you forget your ex-girlfriend?"

"That's right."

"...You're the first man to make me wait."

"As expected, it's too much, right?"

"You're really slow! I'm already waiting, you know? See you tomorrow!"


The reason why Nam Hae-soo was captivated by the dream became clear.

Regret and lingering feelings.

The desire to change the past that has already passed!

'Watch from hiding.'

I'll scratch it painfully for you!

* * *

Swimming is an exercise that consumes a lot of stamina. That's why it's very advantageous for me, who has nearly infinite stamina.

Breaststroke, freestyle, backstroke.

So, as I started to learn other swimming techniques seriously, I got overwhelming results.

On the other hand,



I couldn't use my strength in events where technique was more important than stamina.

"Haha! Your movement has improved quite a bit!"

"Is this an improvement?"

The praise from the Taekwondo master, who knocked me down with one kick, didn't sound like praise.

"If I, who have been attending Taekwondo dojang with my father since I was 3, lose to a beginner, it would be ridiculous."


I was wearing a new white Taekwondo uniform with a white belt tied around my waist, symbolizing a beginner of less than a month.

And in front of me was the Taekwondo master wearing a black belt, symbolizing that he had passed the promotion test at least twice.

A 2-year career is a black belt, a 10-year career is a black belt, a 50-year career is a black belt...

From this point on, you can't judge skill by the uniform.


'It's different.'

This man, who coaches the national team of Taekwondo's powerhouse, South Korea, had a different atmosphere.

A strong person.

It felt like facing a pure white tiger that I could never win against!

The reason I gave up all Olympic events except swimming, fencing, and athletics was because of his existence.

"Grandmaster Gomusin."

There's no way.


The name of a man who is respected as a martial arts god and a pioneer of Taekwondo in South Korea.

Seeing him treat young national team athletes like children, he didn't seem to be attached to the Olympics.

"Why? Do you want to try another round?"

I was no exception.

"Let me rest for a moment. How do you predict my movements in advance?"

"Because I can see them clearly."


I think I've heard that answer about a hundred times.

"I should have noticed when I explained this much. It may sound cruel, but you have no talent for fighting."

"I know."

My talent is being a shaman.

"I was hoping you'd realize it on your own, but since it looks difficult, I'll teach you."


"Your murderous intent is too strong."


"I keep getting signals about when and how you're going to kill me. How could I not know?"


It was a considerable shock.

Killing intent.

That's my weapon. Ordinary people who are not accustomed to the fear of death like fencers can't help but shrink.

And they lose their only life before they get used to it.

"If you blindly trust this kind of fighting style, you'll regret it a lot later."

"Do you mean to hide my killing intent?"

"If you don't want to be unilaterally beaten by an opponent like me who doesn't buy it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Good. Now that you seem to understand, shall we spar again?"


"Anytime, dum-"



I, who tried a shallow surprise attack, fell again.

"Good grief."


The crown of my head, stamped by the heel of Gomusin Grandmaster, was burning.

"You didn't understand at all. Either your body can't follow your head or it's the latter. Probably the latter."


It means I have no talent.

"Do you still want to continue?"

"...Of course."

"Then come back again."


I fell and fell again.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud...!

But I didn't give up because I didn't want to experience dying in despair from the overwhelming difference in strength.

Then, suddenly,

'Kill him!'

I thought of a trick in my desire to touch even the collar of Gomusin Master.


The master's body reacted to my killing intent and made unnecessary movements.


Although the trick was immediately detected, it was the first gap I found.


I didn't miss the chance and took a step forward, attempting a roundhouse kick.



However, Gomusin Grandmaster's right back kick, spinning like a top around his left foot, hit my abdomen hard!


With the added momentum from my roundhouse kick, my breath was completely blocked.


Even though I used to get up quickly after being hit, this time I couldn't move at all.


I fell backward and lay down with my arms and legs stretched out.


"Cough, cough!"

"It's a very good decision. If you can't hide your killing intent because it's too strong, you should use it instead."

"But you caught it right away?"

"You need more practice. Don't con artists get better at lying the more they do it?"


The praise of Gomusin Grandmaster, who smiled slightly, sounded like praise.

"Shall we continue?"

"Yes! Please do it again!"

I got up, rubbing my chest as if massaging the spot where the master hit me.


'Of course, I have to.'

I'll make up for my lack of talent with time and effort.

* * *

As the Olympics approached, the expectations for me also increased.

Swimming, athletics, fencing, Taekwondo.

I plan to participate in a total of four events, but in detail, there are as many as 72.

In other words, the maximum number of gold medals I can win in this Olympics is 72.

Not bad.

"Han-hee, cheer up."


Park Han-hee, who couldn't achieve any meaningful results, had her Olympic participation canceled.

Was she lazy?

No, it was purely due to a lack of skill.

However, the government showed a willingness to secretly include her in the national team because she was my girlfriend, but the person herself firmly refused.

"Shall we run together after a long time?"


I spent most of my time in the Taekwondo dojang, so I hardly had a chance to meet or encounter Park Han-hee.

Around lunchtime?

However, even that has become difficult recently due to the conspiracy theories that have been circulating.

<The risk of infecting Kang Moon-soo...>

<Assassins sent from abroad...>

<The government is doing its best to protect the athletes...>

<Strengthening the security of the Athletes' Village...>

The rumor that they would infect me, who is sure to sweep all the gold medals, so I couldn't participate in the Olympics!

Although I think it's an excessive imagination, there are quite a few people who believe it, so the government couldn't ignore it.

"Please be patient even if it's frustrating."

"It's a big deal if you get infected."

"Tell me if you need anything."

"I'll disinfect it one more time."

There are many people who will be in trouble if I can't go to the Olympics due to an infection, including those in charge of quarantine.

'Isn't this just a threat?'

In addition, some presidential security guards have been temporarily assigned to deal with any possible physical threats.

There were watchful eyes everywhere, so I couldn't do anything on my own.

"Every time I meet Moon-soo, it feels like I'm being pricked in the nose."

Park Han-hee, who had taken an infectious disease test, looked gloomy.

"If it's hard, just call..."

"I hate that even more."

I couldn't help but give a bitter smile at her firm attitude.

"Your stamina has improved quite a bit."

"It's because I worked hard."


Park Han-hee ran longer than when we first met.

The contours of the muscles on her thighs and calves became more distinct, and the fat on her sides completely disappeared.

"What are you looking at?"

"Your body."

"Be more specific."

"...I was looking at the traces of your efforts."

"It's definitely a compliment, but it doesn't feel great."


Feeling embarrassed, I pretended to cough and sneaked a peek behind me.



The quarantine agents, who were following us on bicycles from a distance.

Their role was to prevent people who hadn't been tested for infectious diseases or whose identities were uncertain from approaching me.

'Huh? What's that?'

Two black transport vehicles were quickly approaching us.


They easily ignored the 30 km/h speed limit in the Athletes' Village.



"Hurry up!"

They didn't look like new quarantine agents or security guards.

If I had to compare, they were similar to the bandits who often appeared in the romance fantasy novel <I Became the Youngest Daughter of a Count>.

Their atmosphere was similar to that of the bandits who attacked travelers.

"Over here!"


We left the asphalt road and the adjacent sidewalk blocks and went into the garden!

If my judgment was wrong, they would either stop the car or just pass by.



However, the two black transport vehicles didn't hesitate to leave the asphalt and continued to chase us.

They can't catch up with a track and field athlete running on two legs. It's an inevitable choice for them.


"What are those cars?!"

"What's going on?!"

The quarantine agents were flustered as they noticed the emergency.

On the other hand,

"Request for support...!"

"Block the road immediately!"

"Was the rumor true?!"

The security guards, who didn't expect any physical threats, were busy regretting it.

I felt the same way.

'What crazy person...!'

It seemed like they intended to kill me by hitting me with a car.


"Calm down!"

I grabbed Park Han-hee's frightened hand and pulled her behind a utility pole.


However, the two black transport vehicles showed no signs of slowing down.

'They really mean it!'

I didn't have any fear of death, just the feeling of not wanting to die absurdly at the hands of these unknown people.

What should I do?

My decision was very quick.

"Keep running."


I shook off Park Han-hee's hand, which I had been holding tightly, and charged towards the vehicles.


As expected, they ignored Park Han-hee and focused on me.

'Focus... Now!'

I barely dodged by throwing my body to the side just before being hit by the bumper of the black transport vehicle.


The transport vehicle that had narrowly passed by collided with a tree.

"There's one more... Damn it."

Instead of charging, the other vehicle stopped, blocking my way.


And then, burly men got out of the car.

'No way...?'

As I glanced back, men were also jumping out of the transport vehicle that had collided with the tree.

They each had a metal pipe in one hand.

It seemed they intended to shatter my bones with those.

"Are you Kang Moon-soo?"

One of the men surrounding me asked in a creepy tone.

Like a death sentence from the Grim Reaper.

In response, I quickly looked around and answered.

"It seems you don't have guns."

"Is that important?"

"Yes, very."

That's because the reason for me to run away from them has disappeared.

Fighting an 'athlete' without a gun?

It was ridiculous.

"Something as fast-footed as you is enough with this."

"Really? Then come at me."

"...Kill him."


I'll teach you why modern athletes are called monsters.

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