Crossing the Line
“Ah, what a relief. No more putting up with that arrogant carrier punk. I knew it’d come to this. From the first moment I laid eyes on him, he had the face of a total con man. You can’t hide your roots... Eek!”
Shin Jong-su barely dodged the barbell plate flying straight at him. It slammed into the wall before rolling across the floor.
He might’ve ended up in the hospital if it had hit.
As Shin Jong-su lifted his head, face twisted in fury, he spotted Choi Muhyun charging like a rhinoceros. Choi Muhyun’s fist glowed white-hot.
“Wh-what the—?”
Thwack!
The punch infused with Geumgangkwon energy struck a deep blue shield.
Roulette Team Leader Jang Geon-ho had urgently deployed his Metal Shield to block the tanker’s path.
The shield was only thirty centimeters across and vanished in moments.
Unable to fully absorb the impact, Jang Geon-ho stumbled back, crashing into Shin Jong-su.
Skyla unleashed an Ice Arrow, while Yeom Sang-taek dashed up behind her, taking position.
Shin Jong-su sprang to his feet, vines sprouting from between his fingers to envelop his hand, sharp thorns jutting from his knuckles.
It was his skill, Philophos.
Jang Geon-ho prepared for full combat with Metal Arrow as well.
Roulette’s dealer, Yun Hye-jeong, fired pale blue Water Needles at Choi Muhyun. Three needle-like projectiles, finger-length and slender, hurtled toward his arm.
Unlike in a dungeon, a raider’s skills were too weak to kill monsters—but more than enough to take down a fellow human.
Suddenly, roaring flames erupted between Roulette and Pink Team, forming a low stone-wall-like barrier that cut them off. The Water Needles melted in the intense heat.
“Everyone, stop!”
It was Yoo Min-jeong.
Roulette and Pink, glaring daggers at each other, now turned to her.
“We don’t need to fight among ourselves.”
Yoo Min-jeong stared down Jang Geon-ho. He nodded. She shifted her gaze to Choi Muhyun.
Choi Muhyun was still glaring at Shin Jong-su.
Yoo Min-jeong sighed and addressed Shin Jong-su directly.
“Apologize.”
“Why should I? What did I do wrong?”
Shin Jong-su jumped up indignantly.
“Kim Jun is a member of Pink Team. He’s trapped in a scheme right now, in real trouble—and you think it’s okay to spout that crap as a fellow guild member?”
Yoo Min-jeong remained calm. Or rather, she was exercising patience to suppress her boiling anger.
“Scheme? How do you know it’s a scheme? I trust the Association’s fairness. More than some rootless carrier punk, anyway. And fellow guild member? Since when are raiders and carriers equals? This guild’s been weird from the start.”
“If that’s how you see it, no helping you.”
Sweat beaded on Yoo Min-jeong’s forehead as she scowled. The wall of fire blocking Roulette and Pink began to coalesce, shrinking into a fireball.
Everyone knew what that meant.
Fireball!
Unlike other skills, even a small Fireball could incinerate a person. Roulette Team might all die.
Jang Geon-ho stepped forward.
“Apologize. Now.”
“What? You’re Roulette Team! What the hell are you saying? Fine, if you want it that bad, go join Pink Team! We don’t need a team leader like you.”
Shin Jong-su was all-in now.
Jang Geon-ho’s face flushed red with rage.
“By the authority granted to me as team leader by the guild master and the Association, I, Jang Geon-ho, hereby order TANKER Shin Jong-su to enroll in Dungeon Martial Arts School effective immediately. Duration: three days, extendable up to fifteen. Furthermore, your profit share as tanker will be reduced to 5% for the next three raids. This order will be executed upon guild master approval.”
“......”
Shin Jong-su was speechless.
He knew all about a team leader’s authority—it was meant to keep members in line.
But misuse it, and you’d face backlash. Plus, resentful members might stab you in the back later. In practice, it was rarely invoked.
Shin Jong-su glanced at dealer Yun Hye-jeong and buffer Kim Ye-geun.
They both looked away. They agreed with Team Leader Jang Geon-ho’s judgment.
Did I cross the line? No. That bastard Kim Jun crossed it first!
Grinding his teeth, Shin Jong-su turned and stormed out. Moments later, his car peeled away.
Yoo Min-jeong, releasing the Fireball, slumped down. Yeom Sang-taek hurried over, applying healing.
The atmosphere was awkward, tense.
A Hummer’s distinctive rumble echoed from the parking lot.
Jang Geon-ho wondered if Shin Jong-su had a change of heart and returned.
But the man entering the guildhouse was Choi Min-su.
“Whoa, tense vibes in here. Ah, you guys fought, huh? Young folks always bickering. But Fireball? Overkill. Take it easy. Master’s upstairs, right?”
Sensing the lingering mana traces in the air, Choi Min-su grasped what happened without needing details. He headed straight for the master room.
Jang Geon-ho hesitated awkwardly before stepping outside. No apology came.
The dealer, buffer, and carrier followed suit.
Go Cheolmin pressed his face to the window blinds, alternating glances between the first floor of the guildhouse and the parking lot.
“Why didn’t you stop them?”
Choi Min-su asked from the sofa, legs crossed.
“If I step in, resentment builds up. Better they just explode like this.”
“And if someone gets burned bad enough for a long hospital stay? Or worse, dies?”
“I trust those kids.”
Go Cheolmin turned.
“You’re all set, Master.”
“Nothing from Yeon Ga yet?”
“Not yet. Contact should come soon. For now, we rely on their intel network. Never thought I’d borrow Yeon Ga’s power in my lifetime.”
Choi Min-su laughed hollowly.
Go Cheolmin paced near the sofa, phone in hand, face anxious.
“You’ll make Kim Jun a tanker, right?”
The sudden question.
Go Cheolmin shook his head. Only Choi Min-su in Korea could drop that in this situation.
He knew the intent.
Somehow, needless worries melted away.
“He’ll choose for himself.”
“Looks like tanker to me.”
“As Cheonroegeom’s master, dealer might suit better.”
Go Cheolmin teased deliberately.
“Fixed idea that sword means dealer. Tons of defense skills use swords.”
Choi Min-su grinned stubbornly.
“Never heard of any.”
“No manners. Senior drops by, and no hot coffee?”
Choi Min-su played coy.
Go Cheolmin chuckled and headed to the water cooler. Then, a short alert chimed—Choi Min-su’s phone.
Choi Min-su checked the message.
Sender: Jang Man-ho. A voice file.
He beckoned Go Cheolmin over and played it.
The two men exchanged looks.
The recording captured a conversation between Jang Man-ho and Dungeon Association Guild Management Division 1 Section Chief Park Myeong-seop.
Decisive proof to escape the trap!
“What now?”
Go Cheolmin asked.
“We solve the problem.”
Choi Min-su replied.
The part-timer, carrying a metal delivery box, hummed with earbuds in as he climbed the stairs. Dozens of loan shark business cards littered the door to the info broker’s office, mixed with a few payment notices.
As usual, he stepped over them and opened the door.
“Jajangmyeon’s here!”
“Dumplings?”
Oh Seung-jin, flipping through an adult magazine on the worn sofa, glanced at the kid.
“Of course.”
The part-timer set jajangmyeon, sweet-and-sour pork, fried rice, and more on the cracked glass table.
“42,000 won.”
“Here. Buy yourself some ice cream with the change.”
Oh Seung-jin handed over a 50,000-won bill.
“Business must be booming.”
The kid hadn’t forgotten this rundown joint had racked up months of food deliveries on tab.
“We closed a real one. Scram.”
At Oh Seung-jin’s words, the part-timer bowed slightly and left.
Park Heon-man peeled open a plastic wrap.
Oh Seung-jin called to the boss in the back room.
“Boss! Food’s here!”
No Ju-yong emerged from the room holding two thick white envelopes.
His face beamed as he handed one to each of his two employees, Oh Seung-jin and Park Heon-man.
“What’s this?”
“Bonus.”
“For real?”
Oh Seung-jin tore his open. The amount exceeded expectations. Unbelievable.
Back pay settled all at once, and now bonuses!
“Dig in before it gets cold.”
No Ju-yong mixed his jajangmyeon and slurped up a huge bite. The sound was pure bliss.
Sauce smearing his mouth, he devoured the Chinese dishes before eyeing his staff.
“And starting tomorrow, take a week off. Paid vacation—go wild.”
“Boss, you’re the best!”
Oh Seung-jin flashed a thumbs-up; Park Heon-man raised his massive hand in agreement.
“Rest up, then we hustle hard again. Don’t get hurt.”
“Yes, boss.”
No Ju-yong felt good seeing their joy. He’d been wracked with guilt for underpaying and overworking them.
Debts cleared.
Tab wiped clean.
Even gave his wife a jaw-dropping sum.
I’ll rest a few days too, rethink the business... do it right this time.
Then, the entrance door exploded inward. A bear of a man strode in.
“What the—?”
Oh Seung-jin jumped up, approached—and took a fist to the gut, crumpling unconscious.
Park Heon-man charged ferociously, but the intruder swatted him down effortlessly and closed on No Ju-yong.
No Ju-yong was speechless.
A raider!
Grabbed meant death.
No time to think—he vaulted off the leather sofa’s backrest toward the window.
Crash!
Shattering glass and all, No Ju-yong hit the sidewalk, instinctively rolling to cushion the fall. His ankle throbbed anyway. He scrambled up to flee—then clapping echoed.
Clap, clap.
A man leaned against a street tree.
One look, and No Ju-yong’s legs gave out. He collapsed unwittingly.
Yeon Mingyun, Yeon Ga’s Yeonmu Daiju!
He knew why. The job had blown up.
Thud.
The man who’d stormed his office landed right beside him.
Now No Ju-yong recognized him.
Yeon Ga’s Yeonmu Chilsu, fifth rank: Yeon O-su.
A basement lit dimly by an orange bulb.
No Ju-yong chewed kimbap, but it lodged in his throat.
He stared at Yeon Mingyun.
“Quite the variety act.”
Yeon Mingyun tossed him a water bottle.
Hands cuffed, No Ju-yong barely caught it, twisted the cap, and gulped.
Footsteps descended the stairs.
Yeon Ga’s patriarch approached with a faint smile. No Ju-yong dropped his water bottle. It rolled, spilling everywhere.
Yeon Un-jae picked up the plastic bottle and offered it back.
No Ju-yong took it, trembling violently.
Yeon Un-jae eyed the Yeonmu Daiju.
“Clothes are clean.”
“Didn’t need to lay a hand on him. Just as you predicted, patriarch.”
Meaning: no torture needed; he spilled everything willingly.
“Good.”
Yeon Un-jae dragged over a metal chair, sat before No Ju-yong, and made a call.