Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: How the No. 1 Ranked Hero Protects the World
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After twists and turns, I was able to take care of everything I needed at the mart.
For starters, there was an ATM from my bank, Hanchon Bank, so I could withdraw cash without fees. I also picked up a new model smartphone, some urgently needed clothes and shoes, and even a carry-on suitcase to pack them in.
And all of it at pretty cheap prices, too.
Ah, except the phone. Mass-produced goods are the best.
“The phone’s mass-produced too, though…”
I wanted to grab some fried chicken right away, but the smell of the hot dog dusted with sugar was too overpowering.
I slathered it in ketchup and took a big bite. The stimulating taste of flour and sausage filled my mouth. My eyes nearly watered, but I held back.
What nearly made me actually cry—even though I hadn’t shed a tear over the hot dog—was when I ordered kimchi jjigae at the food court. The white rice in its signature metal bowl, the kimchi stew in the stone pot… Side dishes of stir-fried fish cakes, spinach, and rolled omelet.
How had I lived forgetting about this? Korean food is the best.
“Um, are you okay?”
I was scarfing it down enthusiastically when the guy sitting at the table next to me piped up. I waved him off without even turning my head.
“Oh, don’t worry about it.”
It was just that kimchi jjigae after ten years hitting me hard. I gave that answer and went to scoop another bite, but the guy spoke up again.
“Are you eating before heading into a dungeon or something?”
“Huh? Dungeon?”
“No? I thought you were on an expedition like me.”
The man’s gaze drifted to the carry-on at my feet. I swallowed the rice in my mouth and replied.
“There’s a dungeon around here?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? There’s an F-rank dungeon near Chiaksan. It’s perfect for beginners to awaken.”
There are always those types. The ones who get chatty if you just give them an opening and spill everything they know.
The guy in front of me seemed thrilled, not even caring if I was actually listening.
“Ah, I see.”
It had nothing to do with me… but I couldn’t exactly cut him off.
I pondered while eating my kimchi jjigae. The guy kept chattering excitedly, but I mostly let it go in one ear and out the other.
I’d sorted out clothes and a phone, so next up was finding a place to stay starting tomorrow. The hospital had me scheduled for discharge tomorrow.
The bill wasn’t an issue, but when I checked my balance at the ATM earlier, it wasn’t a huge amount—enough for a few days, maybe, but not for long-term lodging.
I’d been planning to check out my old place from ten years ago—no, five years ago by Korean time—but I doubted they’d left it vacant that long.
So the most urgent thing right now was securing a place for tomorrow… I sighed.
‘Guess I have to hit a dungeon first.’
Ever since waking up in Korea, I hadn’t been able to see my ‘status window.’
In other words, right now I wasn’t a hunter by Korean standards, nor a mercenary from Tartarus. I was a complete civilian.
I’d tried calling up my status window and system while alone, but the familiar-to-the-point-of-boring text didn’t float in the air.
Nurse Pine Cone thought I was muttering to myself because I wanted to awaken, and kindly explained that everyone has to enter a dungeon for the first time to get their status window—what they call ‘awakening.’
No, that wasn’t why I didn’t know that.
Well, my field of vision being clear without any system messages or status windows was refreshing, but it looked like this grace period was ending soon.
I didn’t like it, but getting certified as a hunter was the fastest way for me to make money right now. Once you awaken as a hunter and register with the state, they pay bounties based on the number of dungeons you clear.
“…”
As I sorted through my thoughts, a sudden wave of anxiety hit me.
No way… all the stats I’d built up on Tartarus continent weren’t… just going to be wiped, right?
Right?
I gripped my spoon tight. Even the感動 of kimchi jjigae after ten years evaporated in an instant as anger surged.
If the system had any conscience, it wouldn’t dare. Just losing the muscles I’d built over ten years was grudge-worthy enough.
“How about it?”
Lost in thought, I nearly whacked him with my kimchi jjigae spoon when he suddenly shoved his face in mine.
“W-what?”
The guy who’d been yapping nonstop without tiring leaned in excitedly and asked.
“You seem like a good fit, so I’m asking specially—wanna go together?”
“…Sure, why not.”
I finally asked him something in return.
“But where are we going?”
* * *
The guy’s name was Woo Seong-yeon. Male. Twenty-eight years old.
He graduated university, got fed up with the world where jobs went to specs alone during job hunting prep, quit that, and decided to become a hunter.
The dungeon he’d “discovered himself” was quite a trek, so we took a bus with long intervals, then hiked a mountain path for a good while.
That naturally led to conversation. I mostly just listened.
Though I did chime in occasionally.
“Why not just buckle down and job hunt properly?”
He was a bit older than my Korean age of twenty-something, but subjectively I felt thirty, so I treated him like a peer and used casual speech. He looked suspicious, but I stuck to it confidently.
“Hey, what’s with your tone! You’re unemployed too, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
I’d saved the world as a hero, but got forced into retirement anyway, so yeah, I was unemployed now. Couldn’t open my inventory, so I was flat broke for real.
“I’m unemployed now, but I’ve got my future all planned. I’ll become a hunter, grind low-rank dungeons to build funds, then start a business.”
Sounded like a solid young man from his words alone.
“You know being a hunter means your life’s on the line, right?”
“Psh, just stick to low-rank dungeons and rack up clears—it’s not that dangerous. One of my buddies cleared a slime dungeon a hundred times for the subsidies. Total sweet deal. He even films YouTube vids sometimes and makes ad money.”
“…”
The world had gone to hell. I clicked my tongue.
Well, it was possible because the Korean government was still functional.
Dungeons basically split into ‘fixed’ and ‘sudden’ types.
Fixed ones stay put where they spawn, and entering means facing the same monsters and clear conditions every time.
Clear it once, and repeats get easy, but neglect it on schedule and monsters spill out.
That’s a dungeon break.
Even low-rank ones can hurt civilians if they burst, so the Korean government’s approach was pretty efficient.
Tartarus had thought of something similar, but they were short on manpower.
Most skilled mercenaries skipped low-rank dungeons to level up in high ones, farm items, and focus on conquering the final goal, Optatio.
‘Sudden’ ones live up to the name—pop up anywhere, anytime. Usually vanish after clearing, but higher risk.
These were the real pains in the ass; if you could nope out, you would.
“So Ye-na, you’re seriously lucky. It’s like hitting the lottery.”
“I see. Thanks, really.”
“Hey, put some feeling into it.”
Acting all buddy-buddy already. I thought that, but played along casually.
“By the way, we’ve been climbing this mountain path a while. This really the place?”
“Yeah, yeah. Marked it on the map.”
Woo Seong-yeon proudly showed me his phone screen. I examined the map closely and nodded.
I suck at reading modern maps. Well, he’s so confident, probably the right way.
“This is seriously good luck for us.”
Here’s the gist of his “we’re lucky” claim.
Fixed dungeons get registered and managed by the government after spawning. The sweet low-rank ones? Veteran low-rank hunters swarm them instantly, no room for newbies like us.
“Hunter biz is a red ocean. So newbies like us gotta target unregistered ones.”
“Right, got it. Impressive.”
The dungeon he’d researched? His mountain club found it by chance while hiking.
Civilian group, so scary at first, but they entered, came out fine, awakened easily.
“Man, the Oppa I knew bought a foreign luxury car right away. So cool.”
“The world’s doomed.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. The path’s just tough.”
“They say even after awakening as a hunter, you gotta train your body. I know a good gym—want an intro?”
Cheeky for someone I just met today. I just shrugged. He didn’t mind my half-hearted vibe and hummed along.
“If you get a combat-specialized trait, it’s real lottery material.”
Woo Seong-yeon gushed excitedly, but I was skeptical.
I knew why they called it the lottery.
Awakening in a dungeon grants basic stats based on your physique—strength, agility, etc.—plus a trait window.
If combat-talented, traits like ‘Righteous Swordsman’ or ‘Indomitable Martial Artist’ pop up alongside your aptitude. For someone like Pine Cone, maybe ‘Delicate Helping Hands’ for medical skills.
These traits give big boosts when using related skills.
Mine synergized well with my skills, so I benefited a lot.
But traits are just traits.
That’s how I’d always seen it. Traits are literally ‘personal abilities honed through consistent training’—nothing more.
Like telling someone good at baking, “Suits your aptitude—why not open a bakery?” Just directional advice.
Likes, talents, great—but applying them to survive in life is another story.
Especially as a mercenary—no, hunter. You do what doesn’t fit your aptitude to survive, or skip what does if you can’t.
Take Lucas: his trait was ‘Miraculous Gambler.’
…Gambling aptitude for a prince. I laughed my ass off when I found out.
Anyway, that hilarious-trait prince had continent-top combat power, unrelated to it.
So even with—or without—a combat trait, it’s all about your effort.
Traits in this dungeon era? Just a compass showing how to live fittingly. Not a deus ex machina solving everything.
I watched Woo Seong-yeon bounce around like an excited puppy.
Guys like that usually die fast…
“…”
“What’s up? Tired?”
“Nah, I’m good. Hey, isn’t that it over there? It’s glowing.”
Woo Seong-yeon gaped at where I pointed.
“That’s just glass reflecting light or something…”
“…Let’s keep going.”
This guy’s sense of direction sucks too.