Episode 82

“His skills are impressive.”

“Indeed, seeing it up close, it’s clear. He’s dodging everything deliberately, not just out of luck.”

As the battle to take down Canabis intensified, Kang-hoo and Baek Seon-tae found themselves increasingly drawn to each other.

Of course, it was an appreciation of each other’s abilities, not the emotional attraction one might think.

Nevertheless, Baek Seon-tae recognized that Kang-hoo’s skills and evasion were intentional and calculated.

Kang-hoo concluded that Baek Seon-tae’s abilities were too good to waste in a minor regional warlord faction.

The extent of Kim Ja-ho’s skills remained unclear, though.

With Baek Seon-tae’s current skills, joining the Luminous Guild would have been easy. Not that he intended to recommend it.

Canabis struggled against the hit-and-run tactics of the two assassins.

Canabis’s trait was to spew powerful flames, deterring enemies from approaching.

However, the flames weren’t infinite, necessitating brief cooldowns.

The problem was Kang-hoo and Baek Seon-tae never missed these opportunities.

Especially Kang-hoo, who could strike from a distance with skills like ‘Luminous Intensity’ without getting close.

Plus, up close, he could use his beheading skill for devastating attacks.

Thus, Canabis was in a constant state of difficulty, whether Kang-hoo was near or far.

At some point, even the trajectory of Canabis’s flames became predictable, allowing Kang-hoo to change position before they were spewed.

With skills like ‘Shadow Step’ and illusion techniques, Kang-hoo made it even harder to land a hit.

“Huff. Huff. Huff.”

It was Canabis, not Kang-hoo or Baek Seon-tae, who was gasping for breath.

Having the ability to make human-like sounds, Canabis had made a heavy entrance, only to end up in a pitiful state. It would be embarrassing if it knew shame.

Meanwhile, Kang-hoo charged again at Canabis. He needed to threaten its life to induce tricky situations.

Canabis, a humanoid magician like Baltman, had a different appearance and attack style but used similar tricks.

Canabis possessed a skill called ‘Burn and Devour’ to defend against troublesome attacks.

When Kang-hoo prepared to throw the Thunder Array, Canabis flinched.

Having learned from previous attacks, it reacted nervously to the anticipated pain.

Then, as Kang-hoo made a powerful throwing motion, Canabis responded quickly.

“Kyaaaaak!”

Canabis spewed a flame far more powerful than before, intending to melt and destroy the incoming Jeongwangbido.

The deployment of the ‘Burn and Devour’ skill.

“Is it really bird-brained?”

Smiling at the predictable response, Kang-hoo remembered how Baltman and now Canabis, monsters that had learned from pain, were easily deceived.

What left Kang-hoo’s hand wasn’t Jeongwangbido, but a skill book from the Barbaric Era he had pulled out.

Unaware, Canabis used ‘Burn and Devour’ to obliterate the skill book.

Simultaneously, its contents, transformed into blue essence, slipped into Canabis’s mouth.

The ‘Burn and Devour’ skill was meant to neutralize attacks while replenishing mana.

But Canabis inadvertently burned a skill book, gaining a random skill instead.

The setup was complete.

However,

“What just happened?”

Clueless, Baek Seon-tae tilted his head.

What Kang-hoo had thrown wasn’t a dagger, but a book.

For Baek Seon-tae, unaware of Kang-hoo’s skill-stealing ability, the situation was incomprehensible.

At that moment,

“It seems the time has come.”

He signaled to retreat.

The end of Canabis was near.

Thanks to Baek Seon-tae’s assistance with the damage, the process was shortened much more than expected.

Now, all that remained was to retrieve the skills from the fire chicken that had been fed the skill book.

The table was set.

All that was left was to pick up the spoon.

Five minutes later.

Kang-hoo checked the Age of Savagery skill he had acquired after killing Canabis and successfully plundering it.

Originally, it was a skill exclusive to berserkers, but thanks to a trick, the penalty for not matching the job disappeared.

Had he learned it as is, a penalty would have applied, reducing its efficiency to 10% of the original.

The mana cost would have been reduced by only 5%, a negligible effect.

However, thanks to the trick, he was able to fully acquire the skill and inherit its original efficiency.

“Reached level 95, got the Age of Savagery, and even ate an orange mana stone. This is a total gain.”

What made Kang-hoo even happier was the mana stone obtained from the deceased Canabis.

The orange mana stone had a market value of nearly 100 billion won.

In high demand by medium and large guilds, it was easily monetizable.

Red, orange, and yellow mana stones are not easy to come by as dungeon loot. The chances are very low.

But having beaten those odds and receiving such a reward, he couldn’t help but feel good.

There was more good news.

At the moment Canabis died, he acquired a permanent buff in the form of fire-related resistance.

Absolute resistance.

A resistance that is not ignored under any circumstances.

For example, if one achieves 100% absolute fire resistance, they would be unaffected by any fire attack.

However, absolute resistance is difficult to acquire, even for top hunters.

Unexpectedly, he obtained absolute fire resistance from Canabis.

If the 7.5% absolute resistance were converted into monetary value, it would be at least 750 billion won.

Typically, the ability value of a hunter with 100% absolute resistance is considered to be 1 trillion won.

Being completely invincible against specific attribute attacks makes such a valuation not unrealistic.

“Really… this surveillance was meaningful. It’s been a day that gives me a lot to think about.”

Baek Seon-tae naturally started a conversation, holding a notebook filled with densely written notes.

“Well, if it was helpful.”

Kang-hoo made an awkward expression.

He wondered if it was necessary to ‘study’ him to such an extent, but on the other hand, he felt good about it.

“Will you come to Yeosu again? Probably not, right? There’s no reason for you to come here.”

Baek Seon-tae looked at the now open exit with a look of regret.

He felt as if he might not see Kang-hoo again if not now.

It seemed important to establish a connection here; otherwise, it felt like it would never happen.

His respect easily overrode his petty pride. What meaning does dignity have if the heart strongly desires otherwise?

Baek Seon-tae hurriedly ran up to Kang-hoo and bowed.

“I really want to meet you again. Could we exchange contact information? You can also tell me your SNS.”

“I’ll take your contact. I don’t want to exchange it meaninglessly.”

“Oh, yes. Yes. Understood.”

Kang-hoo made his stance clear.

Baek Seon-tae had been friendly from the start, and even now, he didn’t seem to have any ill intentions.

But the human heart isn’t something one can easily be certain of.

His interest was merely Baek Seon-tae’s personal greed.

Kang-hoo was indeed interested in Baek Seon-tae, but he wasn’t seriously curious about who he was.

Then there was no need to approach him first. That’s what Kang-hoo thought.

Baek Seon-tae hurriedly wrote down his name, phone number, and a few SNS addresses in his notebook.

Then he carefully tore it out, folded it, and handed it to Kang-hoo, hoping he wouldn’t lose it.

Baek Seon-tae added,

“It doesn’t matter if it takes a long time. Please contact me if you think of me.”

“Understood.”

“Then I’ll proceed with the cleanup as I leave. The rest of the rewards belong to our warlord faction.”

“As much as you want.”

Kang-hoo nodded.

It concerned the agreed part, and Kang-hoo had already gained so much that he lost interest in anything else.

The dungeon was meant to teach about the Age of Savagery, yet he received far more rewards than anticipated.

Simply selling the orange mana stone on the market could boost his balance to 46.6 billion won.

After parting with Baek Seon-tae, Kang-hoo headed to a nearby hotel to alleviate the fatigue that had accumulated from the battle.

He wanted to relax first.

Surely, due to the high level of the dungeon, he felt considerable fatigue had accumulated in his body.

Upon entering the room, Kang-hoo filled the bathtub with hot water and started with a half-body bath.

He savored the languid feeling spreading through his body. That was the appeal of a half-body bath.

“Since it’s come to this, should I aim for 1 trillion won? It would be much easier with a second-grade item.”

He felt greedy.

Possessing a third-grade item, Hyeolru, already provided significant power in dungeon assaults.

The ability to tackle dungeons far beyond his level was largely due to the advantage Hyeolru provided.

Thanks to its special effect, ‘Taste of Blood’, he benefited greatly from additional damage on repeated hits.

Being a third-grade item, Hyeolru also offered high resistance to magic and toughness, making it efficient in defense.

If a third-grade item like Hyeolru was this effective, a step-up item would be a game-changer.

Just in terms of stats, he would experience at least a 2 to 3 times increase compared to Hyeolru.

And the special effects wouldn’t just be one or two, but a string of six or seven.

No wonder named hunters crave second and first-grade items.

It’s like being reborn, causing a drastic change in a hunter’s abilities and direction.

Of course, even with money, finding an item that matches well is another challenge.

Should Kang-hoo gather enough money to buy a second-grade item, he planned to look overseas rather than domestically.

Items sold domestically lacked both the volume and diversity of those in the U.S. or China.

“Sell the orange mana stone. And if I wrap up the case related to Jeon Jong-du well…”

Depending on the situation, he could see his assets increase to the 700 billion won range.

If Jeon Jong-du died, the reward would be 100 billion won, but if captured alive, it would be 300 billion won.

After he deleted the spam texts and disaster alerts on his smartphone with an annoyed expression, he noticed several missed call notifications and chat alerts.

“Heh. She came out of Ground Zero earlier than I thought.”

The first person Kang-hoo exchanged numbers with was someone he once hoped would emerge from Ground Zero.

-Where are you? I’m in Seoul!

-You didn’t answer the phone, so you must be in a dungeon? Call me back later! I’ll wait!

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These were messages from Jung Yuri.