Chapter 5

Should I catch Kwon Haeju right now and try to talk a bit more?

After a moment of deliberation, Nam Shin-hoo gave his head a small shake. Not yet. They had spent years at each other’s throats, exchanging razor-sharp insults like mortal enemies. If he suddenly changed his attitude overnight, Haeju would only grow more suspicious, making it best to part ways here for today.

“No. You must be exhausted today, so head on back. We’ll be seeing each other often anyway once EHN is implemented.”

The glare directed at him from the doorway intensified. Having concluded his fruitless analysis of Shin-hoo’s behavior, Kwon Haeju clicked his tongue softly and left the meeting room without another word.

A naked hostility lingered heavily in the air. Even while sharing the same opinions and discussing policy, Kwon Haeju’s guarded, mistrustful attitude toward Nam Shin-hoo hadn’t softened in the slightest.

“Man… I have a long way to go.” Left completely alone, Nam Shin-hoo rested his forehead against the cold desk, feeling as though every last drop of energy had drained from his body.

It was exactly like trying to coax a fiercely territorial stray cat. The moment he took even a single step closer, it would instantly bare its claws, making fighting to the death feel like the easier option.

Even so, he couldn’t afford to give up.

If I want to ensure Kwon Haeju survives until the very end, we have to get closer.

In his past life, Kwon Haeju had died overseas after leaving Korea to live in seclusion in a remote, unpopulated area. To prevent his death, Shin-hoo needed a level of intimacy that would allow him to either stay by Haeju’s side while abroad or successfully talk him out of leaving the country in the first place.

This isn’t going to be easy.

The chill of the desk seeping into his skin helped cool his exhausted, overheating mind.

“Here’s the data you requested earlier.” Choi Kanghyeon stepped into the room and held out a thick manila folder.

Nam Shin-hoo accepted the file. A familiar name was written on the very first page, marking the intelligence dossier on Han Woo-yeon, the S-Rank Hunter known as the Divine Brother who had not yet revealed himself to the world.

He was the man who had delivered the prophecy regarding the savior in Shin-hoo’s past life. The fact that the System’s quest perfectly mirrored that prophecy meant Han Woo-yeon was the sole individual from whom Shin-hoo could currently extract any concrete hints.

The moment he confirmed his regression, Nam Shin-hoo had ordered Choi Kanghyeon to track down Han Woo-yeon’s current whereabouts.

Because my assumption that Kwon Haeju is the savior mentioned in the quest is precisely that. An assumption.

Every single clue pointed directly to Kwon Haeju, yet absolutely nothing was definitively confirmed. That realization made Nam Shin-hoo burn with impatience. He wanted to meet Han Woo-yeon as soon as humanly possible to verify two things: whether the Hunter in the prophecy was indeed Kwon Haeju, and whether simply keeping Haeju alive was truly enough to save humanity.

Choi Kanghyeon rubbed his jaw, his expression indicating profound dissatisfaction with the gathered intel.

“We found him, but I’m honestly not sure if he’s the man you’re looking for. In fact, I’m not even certain he’s a Hunter.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “He’s a very strange individual. That’s the general consensus from the people around him, and there are even rumors circulating that he’s completely insane.”

“You found the right guy.”

Smiling faintly as he skimmed through the documents, Nam Shin-hoo confirmed the region where Han Woo-yeon was currently residing.

Gyeongju, huh…

Because Han Woo-yeon rarely spoke about his personal life despite their past acquaintance, this was the first time Shin-hoo had learned of his exact residence. All he had known previously was that it wasn’t in the metropolitan area.

It seems I’ll have to take a quick trip down there.

Nam Shin-hoo slowly rubbed his chin.

He could head down to Gyeongju and meet Han Woo-yeon immediately, but there was one glaring issue. Nam Shin-hoo was the leader of a colossal guild and a figure who constantly commanded public attention. It was entirely predictable that his movements would draw the eyes of the entire nation, and if that happened, Han Woo-yeon would inevitably be dragged into the spotlight as well.

People would naturally grow curious about what kind of abilities a man possessed, and just who he was, to warrant a sudden, personal visit from the Master of the Saint Guild. That was the absolute last outcome Nam Shin-hoo wanted.

In his past life, Han Woo-yeon had suffered immensely due to his abilities and the fame they brought. When the events in his prophecy began to unfold, people viciously blamed him, screaming, “If you knew, why didn’t you prepare us?!” He was condemned for failing to stop the tragedy despite prophesying it and ruthlessly pilloried for not foreseeing the details more clearly.

Ultimately, driven into a corner by a future he was powerless to stop, he despaired and took his own life. In this life, Nam Shin-hoo wanted to ensure Han Woo-yeon could live quietly, his identity entirely hidden from the world.

It’s awkwardly far away to visit secretly.

If people recognized Nam Shin-hoo while he was traveling, things would get complicated. Moving cautiously in the dead of night was an option, but such secretive behavior would only make Han Woo-yeon highly suspicious. From Han Woo-yeon’s perspective, Nam Shin-hoo was currently a total stranger.

As Nam Shin-hoo pondered his options, Choi Kanghyeon asked, “Are you perhaps interested in the dungeon?”

“A dungeon? Why bring up a dungeon all of a sudden?”

Seeing that Nam Shin-hoo genuinely hadn’t understood, Choi Kanghyeon scratched his forehead. “A new dungeon appeared near Gyeongju recently. Since you were looking for someone residing in Gyeongju at the exact same time, I assumed you were interested in the new dungeon. It seems I was mistaken.”

“Ah.”

Come to think of it, this was right around the time diverse new dungeons started popping up everywhere. The spawn rate had escalated from one or two a year to one every single month. Back then, they had naively dismissed it as a minor phenomenon.

Only much later did the world realize the horrifying truth: it was the precursor symptom of the impending, massive monster wave.

First, the frequency of dungeon appearances surged. Next, the number of Cracks multiplied exponentially. And finally, when humanity was stretched so thin they could no longer contain the monsters pouring out of the dungeon Cracks, the dungeons simultaneously erupted globally to summon the ultimate entity, the Nuckelavee.

A new dungeon in Gyeongju.

It was the absolute perfect excuse to travel there openly.

“That works out perfectly. It would be good to inspect the dungeon while we’re there. Which guild is scheduled to clear it? Contact them, tell them we’re going, and ask them to yield it to us. Offer them suitable compensation to hand over the rights.”

“That probably won’t be easy. It’s a new dungeon with a fairly high rank.”

New dungeons were invariably highly coveted locations. While the risk was astronomical, the potential rewards were entirely unknown. The discovery of even a single rare material could mean hitting the jackpot, so no matter how much the Saint Guild desired it, it was highly unlikely any guild would easily relinquish their claim.

“Offer them a sum they can’t possibly refuse. I have a reason I absolutely must go there.”

“Well, about that…” Hesitating in a manner highly uncharacteristic of him, Choi Kanghyeon let out a heavy sigh. “The guild scheduled to clear the Gyeongju dungeon is Epic.”

“Ah.”

Nam Shin-hoo immediately understood the reason for his hesitation. Should he consider this a stroke of incredible luck or a terrible misfortune? The two people he absolutely had to get close to were coincidentally gathered in the very place he absolutely had to visit: Gyeongju.

Nam Shin-hoo licked his lips bitterly. Of all the guilds, it just had to be Kwon Haeju’s Epic Guild.

“The Epic Guild won’t yield, no matter how exorbitant a sum we offer. They’ll be even more stubborn if we tell them Saint wants it.”

“They would, wouldn’t they.”

The moment Kwon Haeju heard the Saint Guild desired it, he would pour his heart and soul into clearing that dungeon. Suspecting whatever ulterior motive Nam Shin-hoo was hiding, the probability of Haeju completely blocking the Saint Guild’s approach was extremely high. No, it was an absolute certainty.

“Do you happen to have some classified intelligence regarding Gyeongju?” Choi Kanghyeon asked.

“No. I’m more interested in a person residing in Gyeongju than the dungeon itself.”

Nam Shin-hoo raised a hand and ran it roughly through his hair, smoothing his messy locks back into place as he collected his thoughts.

The situation seemed to be resolving itself easily, yet it had simultaneously become incredibly tangled. Even so, he couldn’t just give up. He needed to find an alternative method to participate in the Gyeongju dungeon raid and make contact with Han Woo-yeon without sparking any unwanted rumors.

An alternative method…

“When is the Epic Guild scheduled to raid it?”

“In two weeks.”

“Is that so.”

Stroking his chin in contemplation, the corners of Nam Shin-hoo’s lips curled up into a soft, calculating smile.

Tension always hung heavy in the air right before entering a dungeon. No matter how seasoned a veteran you were, stepping into the jaws of death was never something you could take lightly.

That held true even for Mr. Kang, a gatherer with three years of experience under his belt. He had lived his entire life as a professional wild ginseng digger before awakening as a Hunter in his fifties. Initially, perhaps influenced by his lifelong profession, he had thought his life was finally set when he awakened as a D-Rank Hunter with gathering-specialized skills. The reality, however, was far less forgiving.

“Oh, my aching back… I really hope I make it out of this one alive too.”

“There you go again with the pointless worrying. You always say that, yet you’re always the one who comes back with the biggest haul.”

“What good does that do? No matter how hard I dig, the combat Hunters always snag all the high-priced items anyway.”

Life was fundamentally unfair. Not all Hunters were created equal. Even if he squatted all day gathering herbs and hauling heavy loads, he couldn’t make even a fifth of what the combat Hunters earned. On top of that, he was in a pitiful position where he couldn’t even properly defend himself against strong monsters.

“If I was gonna awaken, I wish I’d become a strong combat Hunter. I’ve spent my whole life digging up weeds, so what’s the point of getting stuck with gathering skills again?”

“You’re talking like someone with a full belly. You should be grateful you even became a Hunter. The materials coming out of the dungeons these days are so potent that unawakened herbalists are practically getting kicked out onto the streets.”

Mr. Kim, who boasted just as much experience as Mr. Kang, laughed heartily. “Besides, the guild leading this raid is Epic. They boast the highest survival rate for gathering-Rank Hunters in the business. Stop worrying and just focus on making a killing. You’re just whining, even though you know damn well how fiercely competitive it is to get into a new dungeon.”

“Well, that’s true. Hahaha.”

Just as Mr. Kim said, it was an incredibly lucky day. The location they were entering this time was a B-Rank dungeon, and a brand new one at that. If they managed to discover a new type of medicinal herb, they could easily turn their lives around. Of course, the guild would take a hefty commission, but the remaining cut would still be more than enough to live like kings.