Chapter 107: Saudi (1)
Gate Hunter is a brutally difficult game.
Even after entering the late-game story with any character, a single mistake could reset you to a new playthrough.
On top of that, it wielded a horrific 1:1 time ratio between reality and the game world—like a dagger to the heart.
Make one mistake and die?
You'd have to level up that character all over again.
And that meant grinding for at least one to two years.
‘A nightmare.’
But what could you do?
That was how the devs had designed it.
Sure, if you don't like the monastery, the monk can leave—but unfortunately, in Gate Hunter's early days after launch, you couldn't quit even if you wanted to.
Graphics that seemed a decade ahead of competitors, a vast open world.
NPCs that reacted just like real people.
You needed a replacement game to switch to.
There wasn't one.
Nothing like this.
You had to play it, but dying and starting over in your underwear felt so daunting.
Wasn't there some speedrun guide or something?
It wasn't strange that players' thoughts flowed this way.
Where there's demand, supply follows.
Countless players began hunting for the game's optimal speedrun routes.
How do you beat it the fastest?
Get strong quick, right?
To do that, reinforce skillbooks, buy gear, consume elixirs…
In the end, it all came down to money.
But the starter character, Park Siwoo, was an orphan with a little sister.
He got a bit of settlement aid money—what could he do to make cash fast?
Countless methods emerged, but none truly solved the desperate players' woes.
‘Then they found it.’
Amid collective brainstorming, a brilliant idea popped up.
—If you're broke, just get it from a rich guy, right?
And there was the perfect mark.
The Saudi King.
A perennial No. 1 on the world richest list in this game's lore.
But he hadn't awakened even into his mid-40s.
If they could uncover his awakening conditions, countless Park Siwoo playthroughs would volunteer as the king’s bodyguard until the requirements were identified.
After that, a fixed speedrun route was born.
Start at the beginning and awaken.
Achievement rank varied by brain cell count, but who cared.
Once awakened, loans flowed easily.
Even a low-rank orphan like Park Siwoo could pull 4-5 billion from prime lenders.
Max out leverage, then straight to Saudi.
Dress like a normal person, camp doggedly near the palace until the king heads out for a speech somewhere.
If he spots you from afar?
Players bellowed their memorized Arabic at the top of their lungs.
—O great Your Majesty! It seems the day Allah's blessing descends upon you draws near!
In Saudi lore, an Awakener was a warrior wielding mana—the energy governed by Allah. In other words, a warrior blessed by Allah.
So what the players shouted meant:
You're about to awaken, right?
Roughly.
Saudi is a monarchy.
Such places typically fear variables like Awakeners, but you couldn't just slaughter them all.
It was a tide utterly reversing the era.
Crack down too hard on Awakeners, and you'd end up like North Korea in a heartbeat.
Plus, even royals awakened out of the blue overnight.
In the end, they reached a societal consensus.
Royal or commoner, awakenings were blessings to welcome and celebrate.
The blessing's intensity (achievement rank) wasn't the point.
Higher rank didn't mean more of Allah's favor, nor lower rank less.
What mattered was devotion to society and the roles you fulfilled.
Something like that.
So the players' shouts were a kind of blessing for the king too.
But people usually didn't say it so directly.
In the lore, no awakening by your 20s meant virtually zero chance.
Telling a 40-something king he's about to awaken?
It was basically mockery.
No complaints if an enraged king had you quietly disposed of.
Knowing this, Saudis never uttered such words lightly.
But why did players do it?
‘To grab attention.’
Just saying it wouldn't draw the king's interest. You had to stab right at his deepest thirst for even a drop.
No matter how rich, everyone wanted to live long and healthy.
Especially since awakening wasn't just about health—it turned you superhuman.
Awaken, pop elixirs, skyrocket levels and stats in a flash.
Sure, you'd end up a glass cannon, but a national king wasn't frontline gate-busting anyway.
Superhuman enough was fine.
The Saudi King, unawakened into his mid-40s.
He couldn't ignore those words.
Soon, a discreet summons arrived, players revealed the conditions.
The king, achieving his lifelong dream of awakening, treated the player like a hero and showered massive rewards.
Typically in the trillions of won.
‘You can't earn that much early on.’
Here, starting as Ilsung Group's eldest son, he'd pulled it off cleanly.
For Park Siwoo types with weak foundations and skills, it was out of reach.
Even with A to S achievement ranks.
Early guilds or states didn't hand out that much cash.
For the king, it was pocket change, but players lost their minds over it.
Trillions?
Enough to splurge wildly until mid-game.
‘Well, it worked well until mid-game.’
Late-game, where real skill mattered, they dropped like flies…
Either way, Kim Minwoo acknowledged this route's solid utility.
‘And that's when the Middle East rich boom started.’
Not just the Saudi King—unlocking and cashing in on Middle Eastern tycoons' conditions.
One of the methods Kim Minwoo had exploited masterfully.
‘Players got mere trillions.’
But he was different.
Players, bluntly put, had no base, no talent, no ability—just took what the king offered.
An item's true value shifts with context and timing, right?
The king didn't set the price.
‘I do.’
No plans to sell awakening for chump change.
Plenty of tycoons would burn their fortunes to reclaim youth.
Especially for superhuman status—tossing pocket money?
Boring picture.
Aboard Ilsung's comfy private jet, they entered Saudi airspace.
Far off, fighter jets arrived to escort.
‘Not bad treatment.’
Using Chairman Kim's connections, he'd called the king beforehand.
The gist was simple.
Want to awaken?
I can help.
Plus chit-chat on business for good measure.
Roughly.
The king sounded skeptical, but the welcome was near state-guest level.
‘He's desperate.’
And while the king's status was lofty, Kim Minwoo wasn't a pushover.
Even setting aside Ilsung direct lineage, this was a world where top Awakeners got respect.
After this guild war, his market value had skyrocketed.
Showing such prowess just three months post-awakening—disrespect would be weirder.
The plane landed smoothly.
Kim Minwoo descended the stairs leisurely.
Far away, Saudi fighters trailed red, blue, white smoke—mirroring Korea's flag—in welcome.
Not enough? Key royals showed at the airport for a personal reception.
The Foreign Minister, fluent in English.
“Welcome. We've heard much of your renown here too, Mr. Kim Minwoo.”
“My thanks for the lavish hospitality.”
“No need. His Majesty insisted we spare no courtesy. This way—His Majesty awaits.”
Treatment like this.
Could be a warning: lie, and it's no fun.
Whatever.
He'd brought the real deal as a gift anyway.
“But those reporters over there—Koreans, right?”
“Yes. We allowed them to film you for now…”
He nodded quietly and told the minister.
“May they follow to the palace? Just external shots.”
“Er… Normally tricky, but…”
“I'd appreciate it.”
“… Yes. From a distance, perhaps. But no entering the palace proper.”
“Of course.”
* * *
Saudi Arabia.
Korean reporters were here too.
They couldn't fathom the scene before them—was it a dream or reality?
They'd heard Kim Minwoo was heading to Saudi.
Got some details from Ilsung contacts.
Meeting the king, apparently?
The Saudi King boasted wealth that made even Korean chaebols tremble.
Legend had it he'd visited Korea, summoned all chaebol heads, and negotiated deals one-on-one—a colossal figure.
Even Chairman Kim of Ilsung couldn't easily book him.
That was the Saudi King.
So they tilted their heads.
Kim Minwoo meeting the king?
Why?
And moreover…
‘What the hell?’
‘What deal merits this level of protocol?’
‘Even the Korean President doesn't get this, right?’
No matter how hotshot an Awakener Kim was, this was overkill.
But they were doing it.
Meant there was serious reason. Curiosity was killing them.
Then a Saudi staffer approached, whispering something.
The reporters' faces lit up.
“R-Really? We can film to the palace?”
They'd barely managed airport shots from afar.
What a windfall!
“Yes. Mr. Kim specially requested. External only.”
“O-Of course! Gear up, everyone!”
Broadcast teams, jaws dropped mid-recording, scrambled to tail Kim's car from a distance.
* * *
Glamorous cityscapes rolled by.
Saudi Arabia.
Famous oil nation.
Pre-Gate Hunter reality, and here too.
‘Loaded with cash.’
A world where magic stones were the new energy source.
Oil demand had dipped from the past.
But not drastically.
Reasons abounded.
‘Oil's used to commercialize magic stones.’
Processing with oil boosted efficiency.
Magystone cars were cutting internal combustion engines, but not fully replaced yet.
Magystone batteries were the future because growth potential overflowed.
‘And tons of other uses.’
Oil touched surprisingly diverse fields.
Hard to find daily items untouched by it.
Conclusion.
Oil-rich Saudi stayed wealthy. And here lurked a perfect sugar daddy.
‘King Abdullah.’
Time to meet him.
Entering the palace, the royal cavalry surrounded and escorted the car.
Soon, it halted.
He came face-to-face with the king in person.
“Pleased to meet you, Your Majesty.”
“Likewise. My heart raced—I barely slept last night.”
The king spoke fluent English.
He replied in kind.
“You won't be disappointed.”
“This way. To the palace.”
After the honor guard review, they entered the palace together.
Time to extract funds from the sugar daddy.