Chapter 46: The Woman Without Limits

[Story Mode]

The Yokai General, Victro.

Once one of the five generals under the Yokai King, he was a formidable force during the Yokai Wars.

Even after losing his master and many elite yokai soldiers to the human realm, he still commanded three hundred yokai and an additional fifteen hundred half-yokai under their command.

[We apologize. We failed to capture the prince.]

[Another team holding tickets has been eliminated.]

[Without reinforcements of yokai troops, it’s impossible to stop the prince’s team.]

The grumblings of untrustworthy half-yokai were understandable—they were pitiful beings who couldn’t even fully ascend to yokai.

[The prince has an extraordinary fighter on his side.]

[Everyone in my team except me has been killed.]

[Ordinary yokai won’t be enough. We need elite forces.]

Even the yokai’s losses could be excused; it had been a long era of peace since the Yokai King’s demise.

[The casualties among the elite troops are increasing rapidly.]

[At this rate, we’ll lack forces to counter the Queen’s faction.]

But losing elite soldiers?

They were the general’s right hand, his limbs. Losing them was tantamount to losing himself.

Such disgrace was something the Yokai General could not endure.

[Deploy the strongest elite soldiers we have.]

[Do not let them reach the arena alive.]

[To oppose one of the two rulers of the palace…]

[Make the prince realize how foolish that decision was!]

The Yokai General’s enraged roar echoed as the vision faded back to reality.

[Player Mode]

Hae Eung Eung understood.

This was the system’s warning—a signal that the difficulty level was about to rise astronomically.

Beep! Beep!

The sound of horns blared in the distance, followed by the thunder of numerous yokai footsteps that shook the ground.

“Mother, it seems our movements have been detected by the Yokai General.”

Under Hae Eung Eung’s leadership, the group had already executed fourteen ticket raids.

Counting the ten tickets they had burned earlier, only eight tickets remained for the Round of 32.

From the quarterfinals to the semifinals, and finally the finals, only three matches were left to secure victory.

“If there’s a way to escape, leave it to me. I’ll show you why the saying ‘humans flee like rats’ exists.”

Despite fleeing under Maga-nom’s guidance, the prince couldn’t help but cast a complex look at the silent swordswoman leading the charge.

Her graceful figure, the faint scent left in her trail—none of that registered in his mind as much as her actions over the past three days.

Her techniques for luring yokai into traps.

Her boldness in taking down two or three foes in an instant.

Her endurance, surviving on mere catnaps over three nights.

Nothing about her was ordinary.

“Is human really not yokai?”

Even Wendigo, filled with suspicion, began questioning whether she was human after witnessing her otherworldly capabilities.

[Blessings]

• [Flawless Cleanliness]: Your skin remains clean, and you exude a feminine fragrance without the need for bathing.
• [Endless Vitality]: You require no food, sleep, or bodily functions to maintain your health.
• [Charming Movements]: Every step and gesture naturally captivates the hearts of those around you.

These abilities stemmed from the blessings she chose when creating her character.

But for those unaware, they were incomprehensible phenomena.

A woman who didn’t need to eat, drink, or sleep.

Who didn’t even need to bathe.

Even after three days of relentless ticket hunting, her appearance remained pristine, intimidating her comrades—Wendigo, Maga-nom, and the prince alike.

– Human, please stop. Everyone will die like this.

Even Wendigo, who had stubbornly gritted his teeth and kept up, finally reached his limit. Looking haggard, he begged for a break.

Among the prince’s team, no one dared to underestimate her anymore.

But it wasn’t just her teammates who were awestruck.

– Is this her final blaze of glory or what?
– Please finish the stream, please finish the stream, please finish the stream!
– What if she disappears for a year after this broadcast ends?
– 60 hours of continuous streaming, OMG.
– How is this even human? Shouldn’t her brainwaves be fried from overuse?

Even when sleep deprivation typically triggered forced shutdown warnings, no such alert appeared throughout the stream.

“Who even runs a stream where the viewers pass out first and start watching in shifts? Insane!”

“Shut up! Do you even know the misery of being a space drifter?”

“This is what all the effort was for!”

“She hid her streaming time from us on purpose!”

“Sleeping in-game stabilizes brainwaves, right?”

“Except she doesn’t even sleep in the game!”

“The prince even offered to stand guard so she could rest, but after barely a minute, she quietly opened her eyes again. LOL!”

“Why can’t she sleep?”

– Team Composition:

• A faceless yokai hiding in a closet.
• A 3-meter-tall half-beast Wendigo radiating a foul stench.
• Maga-nom, a sly mustached schemer.
• A mommy’s boy illegitimate prince.

“LOL, the team’s a joke.”

“Is this a promotion test?”

“I wouldn’t sleep either, with betrayal so close.”

“Right? One short break, and they’d probably all turn on each other and surrender, LOL.”

Despite her typically brief streams—her combined broadcast time before this amounted to only two hours—the Silent Swordswoman shattered expectations by maintaining a continuous 60-hour stream during her three-day ticket hunting spree.

From lure tactics to stealth missions and breathtaking escapes, her exploits made her seem as though the Yokai Capital was her personal playground.

Her unmatched skills not only mesmerized viewers but also inspired seasoned players to create detailed virtual maps of the Yokai Capital. These hardcore fans memorized key facilities, marked ambush points, and designed guides for others to follow.

“Alright, folks, you know the drill. The updated map for ‘Catching Up to the Silent Swordswoman’ is live.”

Among these dedicated fans was a cerebral streamer, Eom Gildong, who regularly piggybacked on her fame.

– “What’s harder, Yokai Capital or the Grand Forest?”
– “There’s no pole-vaulting in the capital, but didn’t she cut down 50 half-yokai solo? LOL.”
– “I mean, she’s slicing through half-yokai like they’re trash mobs. What is this?”
– “SpeedMaster said on his stream that her super crit rate and perfect action use are over 40%, so every two or three swings, something dies.”

Eom Gildong’s viewers, accustomed to his frequent failures—so much so that his streams were jokingly called nap broadcasts—were surprisingly optimistic about the upcoming Silent Swordswoman Catch-Up challenge.

– “It’ll drop after her stream ends anyway.”
– “Except the stream isn’t ending!”
– “What’s going on? Is this a bug? LOL.”
– “How is she awake for 60 hours without coffee, cigarettes, or energy drinks? Even during exam prep, I couldn’t pull this off.”
– “Focus. Pure focus.”
– “Normally, pulling all-nighters wrecks your brain and motor skills, but she doesn’t show a single sign of weakness.”
– “She’s relentless. No in-between.”

“Her streams are either 20 minutes or 60 hours long. There’s no middle ground.”

As the hype for Catching Up to the Silent Swordswoman grew, Eom Gildong began to feel the pressure.

The challenge wasn’t just about memorizing the Yokai Capital’s layout—it was about replicating her extraordinary physical feats.

The earlier versions of the challenge had been intense but manageable:

• Version 1.0: A naval battle against water yokai requiring balance, parrying, and high crit accuracy.
• Version 1.2: A Grand Forest speedrun emphasizing stamina, memory, jumping, and reflexes.

But Version 1.4, focused on ticket hunting in the Yokai Capital, demanded mastery of stealth, assassination, evasion, and team synergy.

In truth, it was a culmination of all the skills required in the earlier versions: balance, parrying, crit accuracy, stamina, memory, jumping, and reflexes.

“To even come close to her, you’d have to excel at everything she’s shown so far. Ridiculous,” Gildong muttered.

“She’s amazing. Truly amazing.”

Her versatility was unparalleled. While most skilled players gained fame for specializing in one area—speed, strength, or martial arts—the Silent Swordswoman excelled in every parameter.

Her swordsmanship was dominant, but it was her seamless integration of countless other skills that left even veterans in awe.

Those attempting to emulate her quickly learned the harsh truth behind the saying, “If a sparrow tries to follow a stork, its legs will break.”

“Damn. I thought we had all the highlights, but do we have to include that too?”

Each moment in her stream seemed to surpass the last, constantly rewriting what could be considered a highlight. This made simulating her feats while watching her stream an endless task.

During her relentless 60-hour stream, attempts to create a guide for Catching Up to the Silent Swordswoman were repeatedly interrupted. Developers would wake up to new highlights, reluctantly scrap their progress, and start all over again.

– “Holy crap, how many of them are there?”
– “Half-yokai and yokai are swarming every street!”
– “Does this mean we can’t even enter the arena?”
– “If she succeeds in ticket hunting, it’ll be nearly impossible to get into the arena. Stealth and assassination won’t even work anymore!”

Over 60 hours of streaming had produced countless jaw-dropping moments. Surely, the Silent Swordswoman must be approaching her limit, both physically and mentally.

Even if she continued to stand tall and unyielding, her body would have reached its breaking point long ago.

Viewers speculated about what would come next.

Even Eom Gildong, who had been tirelessly analyzing her progress, admitted it might be a blessing in disguise.

‘At least I can wrap up three days’ worth of work soon. Hopefully.’

With the Yokai Capital teeming with the forces of yokai generals, her path was shrouded in uncertainty. She had three options:

1. End the stream and admit defeat.
2. Make a dramatic charge and go out in a blaze of glory.
3. Forge a new path and devise an unexpected strategy.

Theories abounded, and Eom Gildong tried his best to predict her next move.

But when the Silent Swordswoman finally acted, both her 11,000 live viewers and Eom Gildong’s 3,500 viewers were left speechless.

“This crazy woman!”

– “Holy crap, she’s insane!”
– “She just blew it all away!”
– “If you’re going to go, might as well go out in style!”

Her decision was surprisingly simple. She sprinted straight down the path to the arena, cutting through every enemy in her way.

It was nothing less than a full-on frontal assault.