The Sole Witness's Burden
Somehow, he ended up in front of the camera. He never imagined it would be his last photo.
The shameless team leader, Oh Dal-ryong.
The sexy dealer, Choi Ji-yeon.
The reliable tanker, Jang Yun-ho.
The hot-blooded tanker, Jo Jang-hyeok.
And the laid-back buffer, Song Kyung-sook, who couldn't be more relaxed.
They were all still smiling brightly in the photo, very much alive. But not a single one of them had been laid to rest in the National Cemetery.
Damn regulations!
Most Raiders die in dungeons. But that doesn't mean they all get buried in the National Cemetery. Missing in action is practically the same as dead, but the Dungeon Association doesn't recognize it.
They required at least two witnesses.
Jang Man-ho was the only witness. He couldn't meet the requirements, so each team member had their own separate funerals.
The bigger problem was that the families of dead Raiders got no help from the Association.
According to Association rules, they were all just missing persons. The Association only provided benefits to families of Raiders whose deaths were confirmed.
Large guilds might help the bereaved on their own dime... but the guild Jang Man-ho belonged to at the time disbanded after that incident.
Jang Man-ho pointed to the man at the far left of the group photo, arms crossed.
'Yun-ho...'
Tanker Jang Yun-ho was his younger brother, just a year younger.
He was one hell of a guy.
'I should have been the one to die, and him to survive.'
He even appeared in his dreams.
Throwing himself in his brother's place to die, only to wake up in the morning... realizing it was a nightmare and sighing deeply.
Jang Yun-ho was an incredibly bright soul, overflowing with energy. He threw himself into everything, but what he loved most was practicing martial arts.
Even during breaks, even precious vacation time, Jang Yun-ho would grin from ear to ear while sweating it out.
One day, Jang Man-ho asked his brother,
"Why do you live life grinding so hard like that?"
"Hm, 'cause it's fun."
"Fun?"
"I can feel myself getting stronger."
His brother laughed at the simple answer, at a loss for words.
Now, it was just a faded memory.
In the corner of the photo was the face of someone not on the team.
Coincidentally, it was Choi Min-su. He'd jokingly poked just his face into the frame, and it got captured by accident.
Jang Man-ho recalled what Choi Min-su had said when he came looking for him.
Go see for yourself and judge.
'To acknowledge a mere Carrier... He used to be so sharp back in the day.'
He carefully tucked the photo into the inner pocket of his wallet, then pulled out a report from inside the file. It was the raid report for Uramata Guild's Pink Team, obtained through an acquaintance.
He'd read it more than ten times already, but he skimmed it once more.
The first dungeon report looked fine on the surface. But key parts were missing.
Back then, the anger and hatred toward Carrier Kim Jun had been immense. Most Raiders figured he'd go into a dungeon and never come out alive.
He'd emerged bleeding, carried on a comrade's back, but his subsequent activities showed it was just a minor injury.
'This report's been tampered with.'
It wasn't written under duress, though. If someone had forced changes, rumors would have spread.
Pink Team had successfully secured a rare core called Formium in their second F-rank dungeon raid. Hunting a Formicans on just their second raid?
Pink Team... was a goblin team full of parts that were hard to explain.
Neither report mentioned Kim Jun displaying any special abilities or contributing to the team.
Either it never happened, or they omitted it considering external circumstances.
Reading this non-public report made his chest feel tight. Like wandering through fog because the meat of it was missing.
Jang Man-ho raised his hand.
"Yes, speak."
It was the committee chair.
"Could I meet the guy myself? If he admits to cheating, we could wrap this up cleanly without waiting for the handwriting analysis."
"We're grateful for the offer. What do the rest of you think?"
The chair looked around at the other committee members.
No objections.
A large room with no windows.
At its center sat a long table with ten chairs. Five faced the door, five faced the wall.
Kim Jun sat in one of the wall-facing chairs.
'This is a total interrogation room.'
Who knew the Dungeon Association HQ had a room like this? No windows at all—if someone with claustrophobia got locked in here... they'd have a full-blown panic attack.
'Even someone without it might develop one.'
Arms crossed, Kim Jun recalled the written exam's second session.
The bell ringing, the proctor entering, test papers and answer sheets distributed, then diving into the problems. He methodically replayed the sequence.
Someone might have seen something.
Or sensed it.
'Not that guy.'
The one who'd flipped him off, openly showing hostility—he was too frivolous to set up such an elaborate trap.
Then the tall, slender woman?
She'd approached right before the exam.
'She's the prime suspect right now. What was that invisible whip? Why swing it at me? To block me from seeing the paper she planted?'
The door opened, and one person entered.
The second-session proctor. He sat, then slid a photocopy of that paper—complete with Kim Jun's handwriting—across the metal table. He'd picked it up from the floor.
'No original here. Ah, they sent it off for handwriting analysis.'
Kim Jun grasped the gravity of the situation.
He scrutinized the copy. He hoped it differed from his handwriting, but no matter how he looked, it was unmistakably his formula.
The proctor crossed his arms, staring at Kim Jun without a word.
As if saying the evidence was ironclad—no need to talk.
"I have a question."
Kim Jun spoke up.
"Ask away."
"Who was the examinee sitting five seats ahead, near the window?"
"Irrelevant."
The proctor opened his file and pulled out the seating chart. Counting from the front with his finger, he frowned at Kim Jun.
"Sa Yeong-gyo."
"Right before the exam, she approached me. Most examinees saw it. Sa Yeong-gyo said to me, 'If you live like that, you'll die soon.' She's my top suspect right now."
"If you're trying to pin this on someone, you just pointed at the last person you should."
"...What do you mean?"
"Sa Yeong-gyo is the granddaughter of Association President Sa Gyeong-baek. Not someone a punk like you can tangle with. Say she framed you out of spite. If that's true, you won't escape. She's the president's granddaughter. Get it now? Reality check."
Proctor Jang Man-ho sneered.
In that moment, Kim Jun realized Sa Yeong-gyo wasn't the culprit.
No, he didn't have 100% proof she wasn't. But he'd overlooked someone even more likely.
No one approached during the exam!
Except this proctor.
If the proctor had subtly dropped that paper? Just imagining it gave Kim Jun chills. His spine tingled, back muscles tensing.
Still just speculation. No evidence. So, he needed to lead the proctor into revealing the truth himself.
First, give him what he wants to hear. Loosen him up.
"Is this place recorded like a police interrogation room?"
"Ha, not at all."
"Then I can say whatever?"
"Of course."
Jang Man-ho waited leisurely.
Kim Jun organized his thoughts and finally spoke.
"What happens if I confess to cheating?"
"Heh, coming to your senses. You'll fail the awakening test, obviously. Can't take it again until next year, but after that, you'll get another shot. As proctor, I'll put in a good word."
Jang Man-ho explained in detail.
"Proctor, why did you do it?"
"...What?"
His eyes shook violently, like he'd been caught off guard.
The moment was brief, but enough for Kim Jun's certainty. The proctor dropped the paper.
Come to think of it, the proctor had worn gloves. Probably to avoid leaving fingerprints.
"I know everything."
"What nonsense?"
Jang Man-ho's face stiffened as he asked.
"Why are you doing this? You did it, proctor."
Kim Jun leaned forward slightly.
The room's atmosphere shifted. Suspect and investigator had swapped places.
"You trying to pin this on me now?"
Jang Man-ho leaned back instinctively, sensing he was on the defensive.
"Did it bother you that much for a Carrier like me to take the awakening test?"
"Haha, you're a riot. Caught cheating and now biting the proctor? Probably the first in awakening test history."
Kim Jun focused on Jang Man-ho's expressions, eyes, tone. And his outfit.
Suddenly, facts clicked like puzzle pieces into one conclusion.
"Ah! No, that's not it. You didn't do it just because you hate me. There's another motive, right?"
"...What?"
Jang Man-ho's eyes narrowed.
"Money... probably not, right?"
"What the hell? Who hates money?"
"Doesn't seem like you. Loyalty, maybe?"
"......"
Jang Man-ho was speechless.
But seasoned as he was, he quickly regained composure.
"I'm a former Raider too, so I didn't like a Carrier like you much. But as proctor, I pride myself on being impartial.
You've lived like this, huh? Shifting blame. It won't work anymore. You'll lose your qualifications for cheating. No more tests. Association rules. I was willing to consider mitigation, but no.
Handwriting results in two hours max. Confess by then, maybe some leniency. Think hard. Life's long."
Speaking like a scolding elder, Jang Man-ho wasn't satisfied. Before leaving, he flicked his finger at his "nemesis."
Nemesis was a tiny water droplet condensed from su-gye qi—water-attuned energy. Invisible, of course.
He'd sometimes flick it at students goofing off in class to startle them.
The nemesis crossed the room toward Kim Jun's forehead and philtrum.
Kim Jun's eyes widened as he twisted his body slightly aside.
It grazed him and hit the back wall, vanishing.
Startled, Jang Man-ho hurried out.
Alone now, Kim Jun's triumphant mood evaporated.
Even knowing the proctor was guilty, no way to prove it here. All his preparation... down the drain.
His breathing grew ragged.
Fists clenched.
He shot up and swung at the wall.
Thud!
His fist sank into the wall.
Knuckles split, blood trickling.
He went to the door, turned the handle. Locked from outside. Even channeling internal energy, the heavy steel door wouldn't budge. Kicking did nothing.
Yeon Un-jae was wiping long orchid leaves with a clean cloth.
The older he got, the more he preferred orchids to women.
The more care and time he invested, the more they revealed their hidden charms.
"By now, that kid's probably racking his brain over the test. Heh, when I took it, I copied from a friend's answers. We both got it wrong and failed together."
Back then, the system wasn't fully in place.
One fact never changed, though.
The written exam... was a mere formality.
The awakening test was more like a driver's license exam than the college entrance exam. As long as the written part wasn't a total mess. Real qualification came from the practical and awakening stone tests.
As he wiped the gently curving middle of an orchid leaf, hurried footsteps approached.
'Cheonchal Pavilion leader.'
Unconsciously, his grip tightened, snapping the leaf.
"Heh heh, I've hurt you."
Staring blankly at the leaf, Yeon Un-jae turned to Cheonchal Pavilion leader Yeon Myeong-deok.
"Patriarch, a message from Association HQ."
"I'm listening."
"Kim Jun's been disqualified for cheating."
"...Cheating? Details."
Yeon Un-jae's eyes turned ice cold.