MythicNovelist

Kim Shin died like a true legend—dodging Truck-kun, only to get clapped by Bus-sama.
At least let a man die with some style.

Thrown into a pitch-black void and offered one wish before reincarnation, most people ask for god-level talent, mythical bloodlines, or a flaming sword with seventeen eyes.

Kim Shin?

“Give me a Hyperbolic Time Chamber. I’ll do the rest.”

Now reborn as Han Jiho, a literal baby in a poor Murim village with no clan, no Qi talent, and a family whose life savings consist of two goats and a pile of rice…

He does the only thing he knows how to do:
Grind. In silence. For decades. While still wearing a diaper.

While geniuses swing swords and spit lightning, Jiho’s training how to roll over without breaking his neck, developing breathing techniques inspired by anime, and planning to invent martial arts from scratch.

Oh—and time inside his chamber?
One day outside = One year inside.
Also: No internet. No snacks. No mercy.

"Who needs talent when you have 52 years of suffering per year?" – Han Jiho, future menace to society

Chrono-Grind: The Time-Lost Cultivator

The moment Jiho stepped into the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, a chill ran down his spine.

A boundless, white void stretched in every direction. There were no skies, no ground—just an infinite plane of silence. It was eerie… but also perfect.

"Finally…" Jiho whispered, his voice echoing through the emptiness. "The Hyperbolic Time Chamber is unlocked. Now I can grind like a madman for a whole year—no eating, drinking, or… pooping."

He cracked his knuckles with a grin, heart pounding with excitement.

"Alright, Jiho. You've read a thousand novels, watched a hundred animes. You know what this is. The first thing to do is simple—build the basics."

He sat down, legs crossed, and began planning.

"I'm still a kid, so I can't go full berserker just yet. But I can lay the foundation—strong legs, strong lungs, good posture. All the masters say that the body is the first weapon. And the body needs to be carved like stone."

His fingers tapped against the white void floor.

"Step one: stamina.Step two: flexibility.Step three: core and lower body.Step four: breathing techniques."

"Breathing… In every story I've read, every technique starts with that. Deep, proper, rhythmic breathing. Like in Demon Slayer. Not just to look cool, but to push the body beyond limits while reducing injuries. Let's get that in."

With that, Jiho stood up, did a few light stretches, and assumed a basic running stance.

"Let's go, Goku Grind Mode—Beast Version Activate!"

He sprinted into the void, his bare feet slapping against nothingness. There were no trees, no rocks, no walls. He could run forever.

…Until three minutes later, he collapsed face-first on the ground, wheezing like a dying puppy.

"Ugh—this body… is trash…"

Gasping, he rolled onto his back.

"No wonder everyone says I should be a scholar. No physical labor, no outdoor play. Just books and ink. This body's softer than tofu in summer. But hey, that's what this chamber is for."

And so began Jiho's training arc.

Running.Horse stance.Bodyweight squats.Push-ups.Plank.Repeat.Then again.Then again.

At first, he could barely hold a plank for thirty seconds. His horse stance looked more like a frog begging for mercy. But day after day, he improved. Each time he fell, he stood again. Each time he cried, he wiped his face and got back to work.

There were no clocks. No people. No distractions.

Just Jiho… and the sound of his own heartbeat.

By the six-month mark, he was different.

His childish frame remained small, but his muscles had tone now—tight, defined, efficient. His back was straight. His breath controlled. His steps light but grounded.

Solitude had polished his mental fortitude into steel. In the past life, he would've cried from boredom after a few hours of no phone. But here, in the white void of silence, he became calm. Focused.

"If they threw anyone else in here, they'd lose their mind in a week," he chuckled to himself. "Except maybe high-level gamers or introvert otakus… Those guys are built different."

Jiho lay on the ground, sweat dripping from his chin.

He stared at his hand, then clenched it into a tight fist.

"I can now run for thirty minutes without collapsing. Plank for three whole minutes. Horse stance for four. Thirty push-ups in a row.""I might still look like a little kid, but my body is tougher, leaner, and sharper."

There was pride in his voice. Earned pride.

The kind that only came from grinding in silence, without praise, without help, without a safety net.

But just as he was preparing to exit the chamber and return home to his parents…

His face twisted in horror.

His eyes widened in panic.

"I forgot… I forgot about that one important issue!!!"

Cold sweat rolled down his back.

Goku Grind: Year One Begins