Episode 81

At that moment, at Seoul Station:

“…I’m trembling.”

A woman stood still in the lobby of Seoul Station, as if time had stopped, passing the time.

Her feet seemed glued to the ground, unable to shake off the heavy feeling.

She looked around excessively, her mind filled with vague fears.

Several times, she tried calling someone she remembered, but the connection never went through.

“Well. You can’t answer the phone when you’re inside a dungeon. That must be it.”

The woman was Jung Yuri. The person she tried to call was Kang-hoo.

For her, it was a new feeling.

She had chosen to live a secluded life in Ground Zero, never expecting it to end like this.

The catalyst was clear: it was thanks to Kang-hoo, who had unknowingly instilled energy in her.

He was like a ray of hope to her, someone deeply hurt and withdrawn from the world.

Jung Yuri gained the will to rebuild her future from the brief but intense memories with Kang-hoo.

Her life could have remained trapped in traumatic memories due to the horrific experiences with Chae Gwanhyeong.

But Kang-hoo had clearly shown her that not everyone was corrupt like Chae Gwanhyeong and that there were people with genuine goodwill.

He taught her that avoiding everything was not always the best approach.

“If only I could explore Seoul with him. Oh well. Tsk.”

After muttering a complaint (?) the person in question would never hear, her feet felt lighter.

Just imagining walking around Seoul Station and exchanging playful banter with Kang-hoo lightened her heart.

“Let’s just get some fresh air!”

Jung Yuri stepped energetically out of the station.

First, she planned to buy a pretty scarf she always liked to wear around her neck.

Then, she decided to enjoy her rare visit to Seoul to the fullest.

From time to time, she noticed people looking at her, their gazes feeling particularly hostile…

But she told herself it was just her imagination, trying to remain indifferent.

These emotions were overly exaggerated, products of the trauma left by Chae Gwanhyeong.

She reassured herself strongly. “It’s nothing. No one is looking at me.”

“Now, I’ll live my own life.”

Jung Yuri clenched her trembling hands tightly.

Once out in the world, she had to learn to survive without being preyed upon.

And she realized there were quite a few people around her who could help her stand on her own, like her grandparents, for instance.

Meanwhile, around the same time, Kang-hoo’s journey to learn the skill book of the Age of Barbarism continued.

“I wonder how long it’s been since I’ve seen a dungeon raid without any crisis.”

Baek Seon-tae was astounded by the peaceful, almost leisurely pace of Kang-hoo’s dungeon raid.

Even the middle boss battle, which he thought would be a crisis point, went surprisingly smoothly.

Baek Seon-tae didn’t know that Kang-hoo had managed to obtain a passive skill called ‘Enhanced Bleeding’ from the middle boss.

When he was wounded by the middle boss’s attack, the bleeding wouldn’t stop easily, and now he knew why.

It would be a meaningless skill for a hunter without bleeding skills, but for Kang-hoo, who had skills like ‘Bleeding Stab’, it was a skill with great synergy.

Baek Seon-tae kept thinking ‘He’s so efficient’ repeatedly as he watched Kang-hoo.

Assassin hunters all desire a style that is restrained yet effective with a single, clean hit.

But this is just an aspiration in theory; in actual combat, the situation is often messy.

Neither the targeted hunter nor the monster moves exactly as one anticipates.

With numerous variables and unpredictable responses, confusion is inevitable.

No matter how smart one is, it’s impossible to keep tens of thousands of scenarios in one’s head.

Yet, Kang-hoo never showed signs of panic or sluggishness in his attacks and defenses.

It was as if he had a clear idea of how to respond to each of his opponent’s actions.

Of course, the reason for this was clear: he had a very diverse attack repertoire.

Baek Seon-tae had personally witnessed over fifteen different skills, far exceeding the number he possessed himself.

‘I can’t stand it any longer.’

Baek Seon-tae broke his resolve to remain an indifferent ‘observer’ and to not show curiosity towards Kang-hoo.

Kim Ja-ho had warned him not to give his heart to outsiders or create ties of fate.

But Kang-hoo possessed too many qualities that Baek Seon-tae aspired to emulate.

Although Kang-hoo was levels below him, he seemed like someone several steps ahead in skill.

And to Baek Seon-tae, level wasn’t the most important factor. Level isn’t everything.

Meanwhile, at that very moment:

‘Level 94 before the main boss.’

Kang-hoo was contentedly reviewing his level, which he had raised to 94 in anticipation of the final battle with the main boss.

Level 100 was just within reach.

Reaching level 100 not only added basic skills.

It was also the time when all the constellations in the grand battle received a ‘qualification notification.’

In other words, it was an official notification to the constellations that a hunter had overcome many challenges and reached the mythical level 100.

At this point, all constellations would recognize the existence of this hunter, leading to many contracts.

Hence, over 99% of hunters above level 100 were contracted with constellations.

Any constellation would cling to them, regardless of rank or shortcomings.

Of course, this was nothing new for Kang-hoo, who had already contracted with the Dimension Plunderer before escaping from Cheongmyeong Detention Center.

But one thing was certain:

The qualification notification could provoke the constellations currently supporting or observing Kang-hoo.

The Strategist of the Wasteland might have prepared more sponsorship packages.

Or ‘The Great Calamity - Darkness,’ who watched Kang-hoo, could have proposed a contract earlier than expected.

Therefore, reaching level 100 was significant for Kang-hoo.

The same held true for the Dimension Plunderer, his main contractor.

She had never revealed her nervousness to Kang-hoo, but she felt extremely anxious.

She couldn’t predict when a rival constellation might appear. It was her greatest crisis.

After checking his bonus points, stats, and skills, Kang-hoo sat on a rock to rest briefly.

“Excuse me, Mr. Jung Sun-kyu.”

Then Baek Seon-tae, who had followed at a distance, spoke up.

He seemed curious, having been silent and merely observing until then.

“Yes.”

“May I ask who your teacher is?”

“A teacher?”

“Yes. It seems you must have had a good one. Of course, the capacity to absorb their teaching is important, too.”

Kang-hoo reflected on the word ‘teacher’ because he didn’t have one.

But he understood why Baek Seon-tae would assume he had a teacher.

Without a systematic shortcut provided by a teacher, his current skill level would have been impossible to achieve.

Indeed, many renowned hunters, referred to as ‘named,’ often had good teachers.

For instance, Jang Si-hwan had a teacher he called his lifelong benefactor, although he was now deceased.

Lee Ye-rin also had a skilled teacher, though not from Korea.

Nonetheless, Kang-hoo wanted to give Baek Seon-tae a proper answer, so he replied playfully.

“Yes, I do have a teacher. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them, but it feels as if they’re always right beside me.”

Though he said this, Kang-hoo’s true teacher was himself. He was the source of all his enlightenment and learning.

This was by design how the character Shin Kang-hoo was conceived.

In the original story, he was not called Jang Si-hwan’s greatest rival and ‘arch-enemy’ for nothing. He was a character who could challenge the protagonist.

As Baek Seon-tae observed him carefully, Kang-hoo joked,

“Are you preparing to dig into my past?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your expression looks exactly like someone who wants to know more about another person. Overflowing with curiosity, aren’t you?”

“…I won’t deny it. But to say I’m ‘digging’ is a bit much! I’m just genuinely curious.”

“Ha, it’s just a joke.”

Kang-hoo rarely made jokes, but teasing Baek Seon-tae amused him.

He seemed like a fresh hunter, still pure and uncorrupted by the world.

Considering the culture of the warlord ‘Ja-gang’, he was an unconventional type of hunter.

“Mr. Sun-kyu, if it’s alright, may I join you for the boss monster’s conquest? I’ll forego my experience points.”

Then, Baek Seon-tae made an unexpected offer.

It was surprising that he wanted to join the boss monster conquest, as he had seemed content being an observer.

Saying he would forego his experience points meant he would leave the battlefield one minute before the boss monster died.

This would reset any contribution to the damage dealt.

Therefore, he wouldn’t be entitled to any experience points.

He wanted to collaborate, but leave all the rewards to Kang-hoo.

From Kang-hoo’s standpoint, there was no downside to accepting such a generous proposal.

Kang-hoo surmised his intentions but inquired about his reasons nonetheless.

“Why do you want to join?”

“I wish to synchronize with you. Watching you has left me impressed.”

“I’m not so skilled as to be impressive.”

“To other hunters, maybe not, but to me, you have the skills to be a role model.”

Kang-hoo’s lips twitched into a slight smile.

He found it difficult to dismiss the pleasant emotions stirred by Baek Seon-tae’s praise.

Kang-hoo, who typically critiqued himself harshly and with restraint, always sought out his faults and shunned self-satisfaction.

However, with Baek Seon-tae expressing admiration and awe, he couldn’t suppress a sense of pride.

He was also intrigued by Baek Seon-tae’s abilities.

As a hunter in the same profession, I recognized there might be elements worth learning from him, especially given his high level.

“Just follow the original rules, and I’ll be grateful. After all, it’s my right to the boss monster.”

“Of course!”

With Kang-hoo’s permission, Baek Seon-tae smiled innocently like a child receiving a gift.

He seemed genuinely pleased.

Just then,

“The flames of death I have created will offer a shortcut to hell for the foolish creatures.”

The boss monster, who had been sneakily watching Kang-hoo, delivered its line as if on cue.

A monster with such presence and intimidation would have made anyone shiver with its words.

However,

“It’s just spicy chicken anyway.”

Kang-hoo casually dismissed the dignity and authority of the boss monster, Canabis, with a single phrase—spicy chicken.

Canabis, aspiring to be a fiery phoenix, a burning incarnation of fire, was thus reduced to an insignificant chicken.