The Editor's Gambit
Reporters only realized the editor-in-chief was lurking behind them when he suddenly appeared without a sound to eavesdrop on their phone calls or unleash a torrent of insults just as they were wrapping up their articles.
Stepping into his glass-walled office, clearly visible from outside, the editor polished his phrasing and bolstered the facts.
He had no intention of including it in the evening edition for tomorrow's newsstands. If word got out, rival newspapers or broadcasters would scramble to respond. Worst of all, that dogged Skyla would catch wind and come charging in.
Slipping it into the early morning final print would slap the faces of those idiots.
Skyla finished her call and entered the newsroom.
She opened her laptop, slipped on her headphones, still deep in thought.
The editor smirked. He was picturing Skyla's reaction when she saw tomorrow's Daily Raider.
The tanker's defense had become unrecognizably solid.
Its range had expanded too, now covering the entire four-person team.
With precise and swift support from the buffer, the barrier grew even sturdier—no claw from a Goldisaurus, no ice storm from a Gelusaurus, not even a Pyro-saurus's flames could pierce it.
Choi Muhyun glanced at Yoo Min-jeong.
She nodded slowly.
In that instant, the barrier vanished.
Yoo Min-jeong thrust both hands forward, pouring out her mana. It erupted as blazing fireballs hurtling toward the two Pyro-sauruses.
Boom!
Choi Muhyun hurriedly deployed his Geumgangbyeok to block the searing heat from the massive explosion.
As the flames and smoke cleared, two half-charred monster corpses came into view. The Pyro-sauruses hadn't stood a chance.
One fireball had taken down two of them! It was destructive power that defied their elemental advantages.
"Perfect!"
Choi Muhyun and Yeom Sang-taek said in unison.
Yoo Min-jeong, suppressing her excitement, looked to Kim Jun. He silently flashed a thumbs-up.
In that moment, she felt rewarded for all the days she'd spent in Ecuador, relentlessly pushing herself.
"Simulation training ends here. You all did great yesterday and today. Tomorrow's the real deal, so we'll wrap up for now."
Master Go Cheolmin's voice boomed like thunder through the space.
Yoo Min-jeong checked her watch after stepping out of the simulator. 9 p.m. They could train more, but with the real raid tomorrow, overdoing it might backfire.
Choi Muhyun and Yeom Sang-taek slapped palms downward with a sharp smack.
Down-low five.
As Kim Jun emerged from the simulator, the two rushed over.
Yoo Min-jeong extended her palm, and they passed by one by one, exchanging down-low fives. Each slap reaffirmed her decision to join Uramata Guild.
After showers, the group gathered in the parking lot.
"You'll be the busiest tomorrow," Choi Muhyun said to Kim Jun.
"Why's that?"
"We're gonna sweep through F-rank dungeon monsters like nothing. Extracting all those cores will take forever."
Kim Jun burst out laughing.
Yoo Min-jeong stepped into the parking lot and stood by her Ferrari.
Their exchanged glances said it all: We've worked hard. Let's give it everything tomorrow. No need to voice it.
She opened the car door.
"Rest well, everyone."
The Ferrari peeled out first, followed by the jeep with Choi Muhyun and Yeom Sang-taek. Kim Jun glanced up at the still-lit master room, then got in his car and headed onto the road.
Go Cheolmin had barely caught a wink before dawn, reviewing and double-checking raid prep, when his phone buzzed him awake.
'Who the hell at this hour?'
Recognizing the number, he scowled. A guild master he'd met at a meeting—timid personality was his flaw, but he ran a small guild decently enough.
"It's the crack of dawn, man."
―You see the paper?
The urgency laced with dread snapped Go Cheolmin awake.
"Paper?"
―Daily Raider. There's an article on Uramata Guild.
"For real? They interviewed two days ago—it's out today? Wild."
―Check it now.
"...Got it."
Hanging up, Go Cheolmin yawned his way down from the master room to the parking lot.
A rolled-up Daily Raider sat plump in the middle of the lot.
Rubbing his lower back, he snatched it up, gaped, and shuffled inside to slump on a bench. One look at the front page chased away all sleep.
A ferocious monster bore down on Kim Jun, claiming half the front page. His face captured raw willpower enduring terror, unyielding courage etched in every line.
This wasn't Yoo Wan-seop's daughter, Choi Min-su's son, or the Crazy Buffer's client.
A carrier's face graced the Daily Raider's front page!
Go Cheolmin devoured the article.
Humanity has always yearned for heroes.
Heroes shatter limits, unveiling new worlds. They instill belief that obstacles can be overcome. Heroes have led from the front and pushed from behind to bring us here.
Today's heroes have a name.
Raiders. They plunge into hell where death brushes close, battling savage monsters to retrieve precious cores. They are the heroes of our era.
A vital question stirs our hearts.
Who are we?
What are we?
If Raiders, defined by innate talent, are heroes, do ordinary folk like us have no shot at heroism?
No. Behold bold proof: one of us, yet surpassing us all.
The true hero who broke his limits!
Breath ragged, Go Cheolmin skimmed the rest.
The article detailed Kim Jun's first raid: surrounded by monsters, aggression needed, but veteran Raiders hesitated—Kim Jun dashed into the dark alone, saving everyone.
Below: the Dungeon Association's second test. Kim Jun lured a building-sized Wirex Rex to secure victory, with a photo capturing the moment.
His phone rang again.
Yoo Min-jeong.
―You see the paper?
"...Yeah."
―This is bad.
"Sigh. Yeah."
―What do we do?
"Hard to protest. It's all facts."
Skyla's piece was built on solid facts. Not a single fabricated feat for Kim Jun.
The issue: spotlighting Kim Jun erased the others—Yoo Min-jeong, Choi Muhyun, Yeom Sang-taek from the second test. Portraying him as the brave hero painted the rest as cowardly weaklings.
Ordinary readers—the paper's core audience—would eat it up.
But Raiders risking death in dungeons? Every one would seethe, branding the arrogant carrier in their minds.
No big issue here.
In a dungeon, it changes. The perfect place to disguise murder as accident.
Go Cheolmin hung up, dug out Skyla's card, and dialed.
A languid voice answered after ages.
―If it's a scoop, spill. If it even smells like it's not... just hang up...
"What the hell have you done?!"
The master's roar exploded.
―...Huh? Oh, Uramata's master?
"Why write that garbage article? If anything happens to Kim Jun, you're dead by my hand!"
He slammed the call dead and stormed back to the master room.
Couldn't send Kim Jun into the dungeon today. Excited Raiders might tear him apart.
After agonizing, he grabbed his phone.
Busy signal. Cut off.
Third try, a response.
"Section Chief, it's me."
Go Cheolmin explained the situation. Seeking aid.
Fuming Skyla jabbed the doorbell, then started kicking the door.
"Choi Yeon-hee, get out here! Now! Think you're untouchable as editor? Why print my story without asking?!"
Skyla unleashed every Korean swear she'd picked up since arriving. Jeolla dialect curses flowed effortlessly, but her rage didn't cool a bit.
Should never have written the damn article!
Should've dropped it the second she saw that footage!
Should've stifled her curiosity!
No Choi Yeon-hee—just a squad car screeching up to the gate.
"Reporter Seo, been drinking again?"
The beat cop recognized her instantly; she'd caused scenes at the editor's house before when things went south.
"Got any gasoline?"
"Why gasoline?"
"To torch the place."
"Good one. Anyway, complaint's filed—you're coming to the station."
Skyla bellowed as three officers dragged her into the car.
"Choi Yeon-hee, don't live like that! Selling your soul for cash. Eat well, live well!"
The barrage of raw curses left even the cops speechless.
Hardened by dealing with criminals, they'd never met a woman who cursed like a sailor quite like her.