I Stepped on Their Shadows and Skills Started Copying Like Crazy - Chapter 60

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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60
That night, Roga and Naru arrived at a small goblin settlement, guided by Torak and his companions.
Everything after that was a blank—he’d lost consciousness.
The next morning.
When Roga opened his eyes, the first thing to greet him was the fresh scent of medicinal herbs.
They’d slathered them all over his body, and he was grateful just to be alive after such injuries.
“Ngh….”
The moment he shifted even slightly on the bed, his entire body screamed in protest.
He gave up the effort and sank back down onto the bedding.
Just then, he heard voices whispering beyond the door.
“I’m telling you, I carried him on my back the whole way.”
“You did?”
“What’s wrong with my back?”
“If you’ve made it this far with him on your shoulders, that makes you even more impressive.”
That voice—he knew it. Torak.
‘I should get up. No point trying to sleep through this.’
He hadn’t even thanked them properly for the rescue, and now they’d treated his wounds besides. The least he could do was go out and express his gratitude. Fighting through the ache, Roga pushed himself upright and out of bed.
But the sight that greeted him in the next room was not quite what he’d expected.
Goblins were gathered everywhere, as if word of something remarkable had spread.
“…?”
“Ah—! He’s come out!”
With that cry, a dozen pairs of eyes fixed on him at once.
“Is that Roga?”
“The goblin who was with Ashkatal?”
“The one who saved Torak?”
In the midst of it all, Torak added yet another comment.
“And that’s all he did, apparently. Yesterday he was fighting a leopard all by himself.”
After that, everything moved in a blur of activity.
Someone brought a generous bowl of porridge,
“Oh my, such a young one… eat up and regain your strength. You’ve been through so much.”
Someone else brought bundles of medicinal herbs.
“This works best on torn wounds. Crush it well and apply it like this.”
Another asked with shining eyes if he’d really fought a Dae Surim leopard.
“Wow, brother! Really? You actually fought a leopard? Alone? That’s incredible… even our father hasn’t done that.”
Among them was also the goblin whom Si Hyeon and Roga had rescued alongside Torak, and that family came by in a steady stream to bow in gratitude.
“Thank you, thank you so much. Because of you, our mother….”
“This is the person who saved Mom. You have to thank him properly, okay?”
“Thank you so much, brother!”
Each time, Roga could only bow awkwardly alongside them.
“See? What did I tell you.”
Torak remarked that his earlier worries had been unfounded.
But not everyone greeted Roga with the same warmth as Torak.
For every seven goblins who came with gratitude, there were roughly three who passed by with sidelong glances and silent hostility.
Of course, no one dared to say anything openly.
Torak and the goblins favorable to Roga kept their eyes sharp and watchful, making such boldness impossible.
But Roga was no fool.
Eyes and atmosphere spoke volumes, even in silence.
A man who could hold entire conversations with Si Hyeon using nothing but perceptiveness couldn’t possibly miss this.
‘I need to leave soon. My body’s not fully healed, but I can still move….’
If he’d still had Naru with him, he would have waited until his injuries mended completely, but their time together ended here. Last night, the matter of Naru’s return home had been settled.
As it turned out, the village that had taken him in had distant relatives on Naru’s mother’s side.
While they couldn’t personally escort Naru all the way to where his family lived, they could at least send word.
So Naru would stay at this distant relative’s house for now, and when his family came to fetch him, he would go home with them.
‘It’s for the best. He’ll be much safer here than traveling with me.’
A bittersweet feeling settled over him. His role here was finished.
‘If I say I’m leaving, they’ll kick up a fuss. They’ll ask where I could possibly go in this condition.’
So Roga arranged to meet Naru alone afterward. Even if he left like this, he owed the boy a proper farewell.
“…So I’m trying to go before it gets any darker.”
“Like this? In that state? Can’t you stay a bit longer?”
Naru, hearing of Roga’s plan, held him back.
“Sorry, I have somewhere I need to be.”
“Who are you going to pick up this time?”
Roga went momentarily silent. Now that she mentioned it, that was exactly what he’d been doing.
“…Maybe?”
“Then… I guess you should go.”
Naru couldn’t hide her disappointment, hesitating for a moment before reaching up to remove the Sun Bird Feather Necklace from around her neck and handing it to him.
“Here, take this back. It’s your good luck charm anyway.”
“No. You don’t need to. Once I’ve given it, it’s yours.”
“…Really? This is so precious. Are you sure?”
“Yeah, you need it more than I do. You still haven’t found your mother.”
“But… then who’s going to guide you on your path?”
“Well…”
Roga unconsciously touched the base of his neck. The place where the necklace had hung felt strangely empty.
Suddenly, an image flashed through his mind—Sang Sik’s carp tattoo.
‘He said that what you carve into your body can’t be taken from you.’
He couldn’t be sure if that’s exactly what Sang Sik had said, but that’s how it stayed in Roga’s memory.
‘Then if I carve one into myself…?’
But Roga quickly shook his head.
‘No. What right do I have to bear a Mark?’
A goblin’s Mark was no mere decoration.
It was a symbol of what you had accomplished, of the path you had walked. In a sense, it was like a medal of honor.
No one earned their own medals. Goblins were no different.
A Mark had to be carved only after sharing its meaning with others and receiving their acknowledgment. It was not something you could inscribe upon yourself.
“Why are you stopping?”
“…Huh?”
Naru pointed at the base of Roga’s neck with her finger.
“Weren’t you just drawing a feather there with your finger?”
“That was just…”
“Oh, I know! You can draw it there, just like the other men do!”
At Naru’s bright suggestion, Roga laughed awkwardly.
“You don’t just carve a Mark however you want. You can only receive one after sharing its meaning with the other goblins and having them recognize it.”
“Well, I can recognize it then.”
“…You?”
“Yeah. You saved me, didn’t you. Isn’t that enough to earn a Mark?”
Creak.
“More than enough, actually.”
Torak slipped quietly through the doorway, joining their conversation as if he’d been listening all along.
“Here’s another vote. You need recognition? Two should be plenty, shouldn’t it?”
Grinning before Roga, Torak left him at a loss for words.
“…”
“Don’t overthink it. Do whatever feels right. Once you meet some of the others running around with four or five Marks, you’ll see it’s nothing special.”
Torak himself bore at least three or four carved Marks on his body. Perhaps he was speaking from personal experience.
“But I…”
“Because you’re Roga’s younger brother? I already said I’d beat up anyone who tries to use his name to define you.”
Torak thrust his fist forward half in jest. Beside him, Naru raised her hand eagerly.
“Me too!”
“What? You’re going to hit me?”
“…Wasn’t I saying I’d hit anyone who bothers you?”
At her words, Roga finally laughed despite himself.
‘Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’ve been the one tormenting myself all along.’
He laughed, then winced as his ribs ached, but his heart felt lighter than it had in a long time.
“All right. Let’s do it.”
And so Roga’s first Mark was decided.
Shortly after, through Torak’s introduction, an old woman from the village who knew how to carve Marks came to them.
Coincidentally, she was the very same goblin who had come with her whole family to thank them for saving her daughter.
“Where would you like it?”
Roga carefully pointed to the base of his neck, where the necklace had rested.
“Here.”
“What design?”
Before Roga could answer, Naru lifted up a Sun Bird Feather and threw her hand up eagerly.
“It’s just like this one!”
“Ah, a Sun Bird Feather. Where did you ever find something so precious…?”
“Well, that’s the thing. Roga here…”
Naru launched excitedly into the story, but Roga smoothly cut in.
“As close as possible will do. It doesn’t need to be identical.”
“What do you mean?”
“‘Path.'”
Roga paused to collect himself, then continued.
“It means the path lies within me.”
“A path inscribed upon a Mark taken from the Sun Bird Feather—a fine meaning indeed. Well then, if you’re ready, sit here. It’ll sting a little.”
A moment later, a small Red Feather rested beneath Roga’s collarbone—his own eternal path, never to be erased.
“That looks good. Should I get one too?”
This was hardly expected.
Torak abruptly rolled up his sleeve, baring his forearm.
In the center of it lay a circular, ugly burn scar, vivid and stark.
It was a Mark from the days he’d been enslaved by the Lizardmen.
“What?”
“I’ll inscribe my path within myself. It feels right. Why—am I not worthy?”
“That’s not what I meant…”
“I rescued a goblin too, didn’t I? You.”
“That’s right! Uncle Torak came to bring you back!”
Torak lifted his chin triumphantly.
“Hear that? We have a second witness to the Mark.”
“That seems a bit of a stretch.”
“So what if it is? The meaning is what matters.”
Roga found no grounds to object, and so a second Red Feather was inscribed upon Torak’s forearm.
The first Red Feather lay beneath Roga’s neck.
The second Red Feather lay upon Torak’s forearm, directly over the Mark that once branded him as a slave.
That was all.
For now.
* * *
After Roga’s departure, things grew considerably easier.
Merely the repetition of Floor 17’s basic quests—already cleared through the Trial stage.
Today marked the third clear of Floor 17.
‘As expected, repeating the same route won’t extend the buff.’
It was a result he’d anticipated, so no surprise there.
The Tower simply wouldn’t open the next Trial without preparation.
If they wanted to continue the Trial, they’d have to fill the Goblin Faction’s Restoration Rate. Simple as that.
But the world outside knew nothing of this, and so it was in absolute pandemonium. The Plenty Seat had gone silent, they said.
[This Hour’s Top News]
[ROUNDUP] The Plenty Seat at a standstill… A temporary pause, or a harbinger of prolonged absence?
[ECONOMY] Tower stocks plummet as ‘Plenty Seat’ falls silent… concerns mount over “excessive dependence”
[INTERNATIONAL] “We envied the endless prosperity”… World grows anxious as Korea’s Tower shows anomalies
And so on and so forth.
Reading the news, you’d think Seoul’s Tower was about to collapse any moment.
Of course, this was the mild version. Online communities were far more blunt.
[Season 1234 Server Ending. Thank you. This was the Korea Server.]
[Don’t tell me the Plenty Seat died on Floor 18? Please say it’s not true. If so, I’m dead too!!!]
[Newbies who quit their jobs just watching the Golden Age extension—heads getting hot now? lolol]
[Daily posting: Once per day, praise the New Seat. Just Plenty vibes]
[Quit overreacting. Don’t you remember last time? The Plenty Seat is only human—probably just taking a break. Then one day—whoosh—they’ll be climbing one floor per day like nothing happened, huh?]
The world chattered about the end of the Golden Age, about the Plenty Seat being dead, yet my own life at the center of all this commotion remained largely unchanged.
Just the usual: wake up, prepare for work, visit the Tower, rest. The only difference was not attempting the Trial.
The problem was that as Tower time shortened, time spent with these people here lengthened.
After lunch, I played with Bami for quite a while, patting my full belly.
Sang Sik and Snig sat with their heads bent together across the room.
“Alright, next one. ‘Are you good at your studies? Which school are you from?'”
“Which… school—with the letter ‘n’ consonant ending! Right?”
“Now, now, you can’t ask for corrections in the middle of a dictation. Write it all first, then ask.”
At some point, using Snig’s Korean lessons as an excuse, Sang Sik had stopped going to Bigo after work and instead planted himself in the Rooftop Room, and what had begun with him teaching basic consonants had now evolved into full dictation practice.
“…Sang Sik. It seems like you’re spending more time at the Rooftop Room lately, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, well, Snig has taken it upon himself to learn Korean, and I really ought to help him. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Some excuse. A fine excuse, that.
“Hey! Oaf Sang Sik! Where did the respectful speech go?! You dare speak casually to this Snig?!”
At that, Sang Sik’s eyes lit up as if he’d caught something, looking like a man who’d just found a point to score.
“Ah, Snig. You see, in this Republic of Korea, there exists something called the Honorific Speech Hierarchy. Just now, who was I speaking with?”
“…Your liege?”
“Exactly. Isn’t the Boss higher in rank than you?”
“Well, of course he is!”
“Now, if I say ‘Snig!’ in front of the Boss with that respectful marker, how do you think the Boss would feel? Should he really have to hear his own subordinate addressing someone else with that kind of respect?”
“Ah… right. That wouldn’t do at all. So this is the liege’s realm—the very hierarchy is built into the language itself! Truly, a rightfully ordered land!”
“Exactly! It’s all thanks to the Korean language and the great King Sejong. You see?”
The excellence of the Korean writing system goes without saying, but to attach it to the Honorific Speech Hierarchy like that…?
They have nothing to do with each other. And besides, that whole system is becoming obsolete these days anyway…?
Such was the shape of my daily life now.
At least Snig had taken a genuine interest in learning Korean, so he’d stopped pestering me with constant shouts of “Your liege!” at all hours—which was a relief.
‘But at this rate, Snig’s going to master the whole thing soon enough.’
The era of exploiting information imbalance seemed to be drawing to a close.
‘It was fun while it lasted.’
So that’s why the old powers were so averse to letting the common people learn to read.
Now I found myself oddly sympathizing with something Sang Sik had joked about just before.
‘King Sejong really was great….’
In any case, since the excuse was solid enough, I couldn’t very well throw him out to Bigo.
As a result, three men were crammed into this cramped one-room apartment, and I was getting desperate enough to flee to Bigo myself.
‘…But that won’t do. If I leave those two alone, who knows what kind of trouble they’ll stir up.’
I was just turning over some scheme in my mind when it happened.
[The changes precipitated by the monitored subject Si Hyeon’s intervention continue to exert sustained influence over Dae Surim.]
[A new Mark within the Goblin Faction has been born: the Red Feather.]
[The meaning embedded in the Red Feather begins to be shared among certain goblins.]
[The Goblin Faction’s Restoration Rate is rising. (Current Restoration Rate: 39.6%)]
Messages like this had been popping up several times a day lately.
This one showed almost no increase in Restoration Rate compared to the last—barely 0.1%?
And yet, this one was different.
“The Red Feather, then….”
There was one face that sprang to mind instantly.
“So the bastard didn’t die after all.”
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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