So?
"So?"
"It's strange."
Tap. Tap.
The guild master didn't hide his displeasure. Every time his finger drummed on the table, Kim Min-seok felt a chill crawl up the back of his neck.
This sensation... it was crystal clear. Like a child plucking petals one by one. Should I? Should I not? The guild master was pondering in that exact rhythm.
About Kim Min-seok. Whether to kill him or not.
"I'm just not getting it."
"Yes, sir!"
"Report it again?"
"Yes, the situation is..."
"Ah."
Just as Kim Min-seok was about to pour out the info swirling in his head, the guild master raised a hand.
"If it's different from your last report, you're dead?"
"Understood! The report is..."
"By the way, that's already twice now."
Instead of blurting out "Pardon?", Kim Min-seok clamped his mouth shut.
"First time, you started with 'I'll report now,' right? Know what you just started with?"
"No idea."
"Second was 'The situation is,' third 'The report is.' Ahaha. Hilarious."
"...Master. That's enough."
From beside Kim Min-seok, whose face was draining white by the second, the Observer stepped forward.
"Why? It's fun."
"His report has value worth remembering. Stop tormenting him and listen."
"Tch."
"Master."
"Fine. Hey, I'll let it slide, so report comfortably."
The Observer gave Kim Min-seok's rigid shoulder a light tap. Only then did the breath he'd been holding burst out.
"Hah! Hah...!"
Kim Min-seok gasped like a man starved of oxygen. The Observer waited patiently for him to calm, then spoke softly.
"Scout, relax. Just the key parts, precisely."
Kim Min-seok exhaled shakily, steadying his ragged breathing before opening his trembling mouth.
"Scáthach appeared, and Han Seol-ah confronted her."
"That's the weird part."
"Right?"
The guild master’s eyes sparkled with interest.
"We figured she wouldn't break easily."
"Yeah. But how did she stand up to her? By our 'calculations,' Han Seol-ah shouldn't survive even one hit from Scáthach."
"...According to Min-seok's report, Scáthach looked like she was 'playing around' with her."
"Why would Scáthach show that kind of 'pattern'? Is there something we don't know?"
"... ."
The Observer had no answer.
"Answer me, Observer. Is that even possible?"
"...Before this report, I'd have said 'impossible.' Now, I have to revise that."
"What is it?"
"No idea."
The Observer removed his sunglasses. Beneath them, his eyes were pure white sclera—no irises at all.
"From everything I've 'observed' on Scáthach, she has no such pattern. She's... a cruel, merciless being."
"Hm."
The guild master turned serious for a moment, deep in thought. Then...
"Screw it. Whatever."
His face brightened again as he tossed out the words casually.
"Next part. Report."
"Felt something insanely dangerous from afar and bolted immediately."
The guild master glanced at the Observer.
"What was that?"
"Scout's an outstanding tank straddling A- and S-rank. His crisis detection is top-notch. If even he ran without looking back, it's at minimum a grand magic spell."
"Grand magic?"
Instead of answering, the Observer pointed at Kim Min-seok's back. Specifically, the guild master's 'Shadow Thorn' lurking in his shadow.
"Kim Min-seok. Tell me yourself. What does it feel like with this shadow beside you?"
Kim Min-seok's shoulders jerked. He glanced warily at his own shadow.
Terror. Revulsion. Murderous intent. Rating the horrific shadow that held his life in its grasp? The disgust was too vile to voice, flashing across his face.
But no answer meant death. He forced his lips apart.
"...Eerie."
"Eerie?"
"Yes. Like... nails on a chalkboard. Or a blade pressing your nape. Pure chills."
"What? For real? That's it? Puhaha!"
The guild master roared with laughter for a good while. Then—
Snick.
The laughter cut off.
"Ah, it's back. Was having fun after so long."
The spark vanished from the guild master's eyes. The playful kid-like expression was gone, replaced by a cold, doll-like mask.
"Tch. Anyway, you're tougher than I thought. Facing my killing intent head-on and only calling it 'eerie'? Exceeds expectations."
He nodded.
"And you decided to run without looking back from something like that? So, grand magic it is..."
"Yes."
"You're dismissed. Out."
The moment permission came, whoosh! Kim Min-seok skipped bows and bolted from the room like lightning. A deer's desperate flight from a monster's maw.
Once he was far enough, the Observer asked.
"What do you think?"
"...Gut feeling's solid."
The guild master shed all his earlier playfulness.
"...'First'?"
"What? No way. Not him. First wasn't a mage. Probably..."
"... ."
The guild master pondered. The Observer waited silently.
Finally.
"...We'll watch longer. At least until the next trial."
"As you wish."
"What was it? Some... Rezo-something?"
"Lezonar."
"Right, that. What kind of mob?"
"A horrific... boss mob."
The Observer shook his head.
"We won't stop it this time."
After checking the codex's abilities, my head was burning up. Too many thoughts crashing in.
"Gotta empty the brain in times like this."
Overthinking's toxic for brain health. The perfect way to clear it?
Grinding.
"Might as well farm Lezonar while checking strats."
I dove straight into the Otherworld Gate and started endlessly slaughtering Lezonar.
...Hours later.
Drops: zero. Harvest: zilch.
"You garbage mob!"
Tedious to kill, messy patterns, and the drop table's trash-tier. No wonder users called it a "scat mob."
Sigh. I won't shake this irritation without flipping off the dev who made this J.O.A.T crap.
'...The dev, huh.'
Lost Honor is the miracle game that awakened me. Its creator's no ordinary joe, that's for sure.
Looking back, Lost Honor was abnormal in every way. I just glossed over it since it kept me alive.
'What the hell is its deal?'
I mulled over the game and its dev.
The day after the Towers appeared. In this tiny room, when I came to my senses... Lost Honor was already installed on my PC. The whole monitor blazed with effects, screaming "Create a character now or regret it forever."
And then...?
'...What happened next?'
I barely remember. Vaguely, I made a character and binged the game. I was mentally wrecked from failed awakening back then, so memory gaps make sense.
"Hm."
Point is, Lost Honor's been mysterious from the start. Still is.
"So what? Big deal."
It saved my life. Got me awakened. Mysterious? Whatever—as long as it helps me, fine. No need to know more. No way to, anyway.
"Head's a mess, so time to troll the dev."
I opened the auction house tab like always. I'd vent stress by messing with the dev for a decade straight!
If anyone's the Earth's best at "pissing off the dev," it's me. Tormenting one guy for 10 years and feeling bliss every time? That's me.
Inventory open.
"You made my head hurt. Big sin, dev."
The items I "hoard" in inventory are special. Even with 99 personal warehouses, I carry these. Items I'd sell only if Korea falls tomorrow and I'm done for—no last apple tree to plant.
Nebula's inventory crown jewels.
Another genesis-tier: Nameless.
This badass nameless item wriggles fiercely in my cursor. Blood-caked slime form.
But that's not its true shape. Nameless can be anything. Hence, unnamed till named.
Old-timer terms: Philosopher's Stone. Genie lamp. Cintamani. Dragon Balls (collect seven). Archetype of wish-granters.
"Heh."
I list it as-is.
Click.
◈ Bid Amount: 5 Billion Points
Instant bid. Reaction speed like he was waiting.
'As expected, monitoring live.'
Why I'm sure it's the dev. Lost Honor's auction is strict. Appraisals and bids take 3 days—even for an iron sword.
But this guy's different. Only when I list balance-breakers like genesis/mythic tiers does he react instantly.
Bypassing system processes in real-time? Only one entity: admin/dev.
'Last time 4 billion, now +1 billion? Nice.'
Click. Cancel auction.
Nameless vanishes.
Wait a sec.
Click. Relist.
"Pfft."
◈ Bid Amount: 5.05 Billion Points
Up 50 million already. No way.
Cancel again.
"Heehee."
Click. Click. Click. Click.
List. Cancel. List. Cancel.
Repeat. Until?
I feel like stopping.
"5.1 billion, 5.2, 5.5... Heehee. Heating up, ya bastard?"
Dev's losing it. Server's top item popping in and out. Probably gnawing nails, glued to the monitor.
"Nope~ Not selling~"
Click. Click.
Confirmed bid climbing from 5 to 7 billion. Then...
Auction house closed.
"Feeling better."
Justice served. Head cooled perfectly.
'Now, to business.'
Next plans need tons of points. Tons and tons.
But no selling Nameless. Hand it over cheap when desperate? Kills their thirst. Keep the ace till they can't refuse.
'Mass elixir dump? Bad idea too.'
Dev's sly. Bulk dump screams "need cash?"—he'll lowball.
Hm...
'Too annoying to think!'
Pondering sales is for weaklings. I'm absolute top.
'No need for me to worry.'
Ultimate merchant needs one word per deal.
"Bid."
Listed a [Wooden Box].
◈ Bid Amount: 99 Points
Instant response.
'Bastard’s on high alert.'
Torture with Nameless like this shortcuts the 3-day process to extreme speeds. Hooks him with "maybe selling for real?"—forces live monitoring.
Stress relief + time save. Two birds, one stone.
His "bid" reply? In the box's price.
Our code. Box means "which warehouse?" 99 points = wants #99.
"This punk. Daring to eye warehouse 99?"
#99 holds legend/unique gear. Not inventory-tier, but damn good. Needs more aging, my gut says.
Pulled box, relisted.
'Rejected. Rebid.'
Next: 297 points.
"?"
Clear meaning: 'Triple price for #99.'
...Our 10-year auction-trained "trade method."
But.
"Cheeky bastard."
After 10 years with me, still doesn't get it.
"No negotiations in my book."
Opened #1 warehouse, dragged out 'Goblin Shit' and listed.
"Forgot my style? At attention."
Thus began the barrage: 'Rotten Apple,' 'Food Waste,' 'Otherworld Vomit'—disgusting junk by name and look.
Toss Nameless amid terror to glue his eyes. Essential technique.
Repeat. Until?
Dev surrenders.