White Angel
Entering a Monster Hole always carried a heavy weight of dread. It could hardly be otherwise—no one could truly know what waited inside. Those who stepped into the unknown might all die to some unforeseen danger, or enter and never come out again. They might simply vanish without a trace.
For that reason, venturing into a Monster Hole was a decidedly burdensome undertaking.
Yet as cases of people entering Monster Holes overseas and returning safely began to surface one by one, a clear conclusion emerged: to make a Monster Hole that refused to disappear vanish for good, every monster dwelling within it had to be subdued.
The case of Yongdu Mountain was no different.
When Jeon Dok-jin himself led the way in, accompanied by the 15th Special Forces Unit, the three newly selected guilds, and observers Im Seong-woo, Seo Gang-jae, and Lee Seok-pil, the Monster Hole proved to contain a goblin settlement. From that place they recovered more than three hundred raw Crystal Ores—precisely over three hundred.
Though the findings on Monster Holes were not announced publicly, the international exchange of information became the foundation for properly understanding and systematizing them. In this way, the true value of Monster Holes came to light piece by piece.
The two Monster Holes that appeared afterward were cleared with far less hesitation. Both, too, turned out to be goblin settlements—and it became clear that these were the most common and frequently occurring type of Monster Hole worldwide.
From that point on, change accelerated rapidly.
As the supply of Crystal Ore grew abundant, researchers assigned to the material began producing results one after another. Extracting the energy contained within the ore, refining it into capsules, and applying those capsules to modern machinery and products proved far easier than expected. With practical applications rising so quickly, Crystal Energy came to be hailed as a revolutionary new energy source capable of replacing petroleum. It was also discovered that capsules made from Crystal Energy could dramatically extend battery life and sustain long-term activation, driving the value of the raw ore even higher.
Six months passed.
In the United States, a machine capable of measuring an Awakener’s power was unveiled, and an announcement followed that the strength of Awakeners could now be quantified and systematized. The news became a major issue among Awakeners. That differences in power existed among them was already common knowledge—but measuring the actual degree of that difference had always been difficult. Now that a machine could do it, both Awakeners and ordinary people alike could not help but feel encouraged.
Of course, officials also stated that much testing and evaluation still remained, so full commercialization and productization would take more time. Considering the additional delay before the technology would reach Korea, it was clear that everyone would have to wait a while longer and watch developments carefully.
In any case, Crystal Ore was transforming countless aspects of the world.
Talk also arose of barriers that Awakeners could deploy using Crystal Energy. Officially named the Shield Project, these barriers were expected to play a critical role in protecting buildings and structures in cities overrun by monsters. A broad consensus formed that once such technology was developed and commercialized, both property damage and loss of life caused by monsters or rogue Awakeners could be significantly reduced.
All of it ultimately pointed to one thing: the value of Crystal Ore itself.
Even the lowest-grade Crystal Ore obtained from common monsters like goblins or slimes was openly said to be worth more than ten million won apiece. In truth, the smallest Crystal Ore that could be harvested from a monster measured only thirty millimeters—the lowest grade of all. Naturally, corporations and entrepreneurs fixed their eyes on the material. Processing and selling it would yield enormous profits; that much was self-evident.
Prices would inevitably spike and climb even higher—yet through global consensus a single standard was established. All Crystal Ore would be purchased by each nation’s government at a fixed base price, then released in controlled quantities to companies for processing into capsules. Official prices would apply, though market fluctuations were unavoidable. Crystal Ore obtained within a country’s borders would belong exclusively to that nation and had to be sold at a fair price to a state-owned enterprise under government authority; failure to do so would be treated as a criminal offense under newly enacted international law. The United States, South American nations, European countries, Asian nations led by Korea, and others all agreed to participate, and the framework was rapidly finalized.
Crystal Ore was, after all, the source of a new energy capable of replacing petroleum.
As a result, among Awakeners, Monster Holes came to be regarded as dungeons where one could strike it rich overnight. Even thoroughly clearing a single goblin settlement could yield profits exceeding three billion won—and the phenomenon was not limited to Korea. It was global. A thirty-millimeter lowest-grade Crystal Ore alone was officially priced at ten million won each. Because the entire haul had to be sold to a government-designated public enterprise, the unit price was fixed—but the income was stable and reliable.
A basic goblin settlement contained anywhere from roughly a hundred goblins to several hundred, so a minimum of one billion won could be earned. And that was only the standard for common monsters like goblins and slimes. Higher-tier monsters carried Crystal Ore containing far greater energy, so the profits scaled accordingly.
Take the pig-headed monsters commonly called orcs. The Crystal Ore they carried averaged forty millimeters. Larger specimens appeared as well, but the average was forty millimeters, officially priced at fifteen million won each. The largest fifty-millimeter pieces were set at thirty million won. In short, Monster Holes had become the equivalent of gold mines or rich mineral veins waiting to be claimed.
That, of course, created a new problem: everyone wanted to enter a Monster Hole. A single expedition could bring in staggering returns.
Suppose a hundred monsters were slain and every Crystal Ore sold to a government enterprise at ten million won each—that would total one billion won. Because the National Safety Agency now always entered alongside the guilds and claimed half the personnel share, five hundred million went to the Agency. The remaining five hundred million was divided among the three major guilds that participated, still leaving each guild with more than one hundred fifty million. On top of that, every participant received a base payment of one million won simply for entering—funds disbursed by the National Safety Agency. For a fifty-person team that meant fifty million won paid out to the guilds. Even assuming only a hundred lowest-grade monsters and a hundred lowest-grade Crystal Ores, each guild still walked away with over two hundred million won.
And that calculation was based on the absolute minimum. Places called goblin settlements typically housed far more than a hundred goblins living in colonies, so the actual yield of Crystal Ore was higher. Using one hundred monsters and one billion won as a baseline, the average haul was greater still—meaning each guild could realistically expect more than three hundred million. Enter a higher-tier Monster Hole and encounter orcs, and the profits climbed even further.
Small wonder that everyone was eager to go in.
Fortunately—if one could call it that—Monster Holes, which at first appeared only once a month if at all, now manifested five to ten times a month. That meant as many as ten opportunities to enter in a single month. The increased supply of Crystal Ore, combined with surging government budgets and support worldwide, accelerated the development of electronic products and the Guard Project alike.
Recently, an announcement even declared that production facilities for Crystal Energy capsules had finally been completed; full-scale domestic production would begin the following month. With major conglomerates and government funding pouring concentrated investment and support into the field, development and commercialization were advancing at breakneck speed.
Automobile manufacturers, too, were racing to commercialize batteries powered by Crystal Energy capsules. Even if a battery ran dry, one could simply swap in a fresh capsule as easily as changing the batteries in a remote control. If the capsule was depleted and the engine died, anyone could replace it on the spot like a dry cell. Nothing could be more convenient.
With each passing day, Crystal Energy was evolving beyond a mere new energy source into a power capable of threatening petroleum itself—advancing and developing at a startling pace.
A full year passed.
After finishing work, Seong-min skipped the gym that day and stopped by a bakery instead. He bought a strawberry cake, carried it out to the car he had parked along the shoulder, set it carefully on the passenger seat, and pulled slowly back onto the road toward home.
He parked in the lot, got out, opened the front gate, and punched the door-lock code. The moment he stepped inside, Hye-sook appeared in a neat, carefully chosen outfit.
“You’re all dressed up.”
“Of course I am. It’s a birthday, after all~ Hohoho.”
“I brought this.”
Seong-min held up the cake, and Hye-sook’s face brightened with a smile.
“Give it here.”
He handed the cake over, then headed to the study, changed into comfortable clothes, left his outdoor and work clothes in the laundry room, and stepped into the bathroom for a shower. After toweling off and drying his hair, he made his way to the kitchen. The dining table was already set with a full spread of dishes, including seaweed soup.
“Did you make all of this, Auntie?”
“Mm-hmm. I timed everything so it would be ready.”
“I feel bad. Making you prepare all this on your birthday.”
“Don’t. You boiled the seaweed soup yourself, didn’t you?”
Among everything on the table, the one dish Hye-sook had not prepared was the seaweed soup. Because it was her birthday, Seong-min had cooked it the night before. That morning she had been able to eat the soup he had made for her. Now she had arranged an entire meal around it. In the center of the table sat the cake.
“Come on, sit down.”
“It’s your birthday—I should be the one doing this.”
Seong-min struck a match and lit each candle one by one. He switched off the kitchen light and took his seat.
“All right. Let’s begin.”
“Okay…”
“Happy birthday to you~”
A modest birthday party began. Yet there was nothing modest about it at all—because Seong-min was the one celebrating her.