A Call from the Past

At the chime of a new notification, I pulled out not the phone I used as Corporate Slave Life, but the old one from my days at the company.

My finger hovered over the name on the screen for a moment.

But there was no reason to ignore it — and this was a connection I'd have regretted brushing off. In the Risk Management Team days, he was the last team member who'd stayed by my side. He'd fought Han Tae-seok's reckless budget-slashing demands even harder than I had, and took a vicious counterattack for it, branded with the same guilt by association. In a way, he had been my shield.

'A stubborn, straight-laced fool of a man.'

But that was exactly why I couldn't dislike him. No one worried more about the safety of the field exploration teams, and no one wished more sincerely for the company to succeed. Had he landed at any other hunter corporation, he'd never have had to go through what he did at [Ark].

After a brief stroll down memory lane, I pressed the call button.

"It's been a while, Manager Jeong."

[...Ah. Team Leader Kim. Have you been well? I apologize for reaching out so suddenly. Thank goodness your number hasn't changed.]

The voice coming through the receiver sounded thoroughly worn down. He coughed awkwardly a few times, then forced a casual tone and asked after me.

[I heard the news. That you ended up... like that too, Team Leader. It's been weighing on me. I feel like it was my fault. I should have held out more flexibly back then, but I let my temper win and left first — I just dumped the burden on you.]

"No. If anything, having you there let me hold out longer. And... I was planning to leave anyway. The field exploration teams may not forgive me for it, but we could only take so much."

I didn't want him carrying a pointless guilt, so I kept my voice light.

[Really? That's a relief... Still, as for me... hah. I walked right back in on my own two feet. I have no face to show.]

"So you returned to the company?"

[More of a short-term contract than a return. Han Tae-seok begged and pleaded — just one project, he said. My own situation isn't great at the moment, and the pay was hard to refuse, so...]

Manager Jeong let out a self-mocking laugh.

I'd expected as much, but hearing it firsthand made me feel in my bones just how much of a mess [Ark] had become. For the prideful Han Tae-seok to go crawling back to the very man he'd thrown away, money in hand — no less.

[When I showed up, what a sight it was. The field exploration teams' results have been an outright disaster since you left. Team Leader Park Jin-chul is running hotter than a kettle and producing nothing, accidents keep cascading through Team 2 and Team 3 alike... the mood is so poisonous that everyone's quietly plotting their exit.]

"I expected that much."

[Two members of Team 2 took serious injuries after advancing along a safety route the AI predicted. The repair bills alone burned through hundreds of millions of won, and all Han Tae-seok did was blame the exploration team.]

An exodus, maybe. A mass resignation, one after another.

...Which was only natural. There was a reason other companies poured so much budget into field exploration.

[Lately they've been trying to paper over the bleeding numbers with the [Cheka] contract... but it doesn't look nearly as easy as they make it sound.]

Han Tae-seok, it seemed, still hadn't come to his senses.

He still seemed convinced the AI Operating System was a master key. The system had only ever delivered prophecy-grade prediction rates and safety margins not because the AI was brilliant.

How could anyone predict the future by patternizing context when unprecedented variables were appearing in real time? It was only possible because I fed information from my own eyes into the Tactical Map in real time — because we shoved dungeon data into it day after day and corrected for every variable...

Because the shell was still there, but the core inside had always been my senses.

Did neither the man who built it nor the man who used it understand that anymore?

But Manager Jeong, on the other end of the line, was different.

[From what I can tell, they called me because they've at least caught on that something's wrong with the AI Operating System... though I know full well I'm nowhere near enough. Of course I know. I watched it all from closer to you than anyone.]

His voice sank, grave and steady.

[People might think the AI did everything, but I know it was nothing more than a tool that assisted you. I know that without you, there is no field exploration team at [Ark].]

"...You flatter me."

[When I dug through the logs after coming back, it hit me all over again. Whenever I was there, you were there too. But after you left, the AI... turned into nothing but an empty can. It moves the exploration equipment, aggregates data, and parrots back information the teams already know, like a parrot. Variables? It can't even react quickly, let alone adapt...]

Manager Jeong's instincts were as sharp as ever.

Knowing that someone truly understood and appreciated the value of everything I'd poured into that place made a corner of my chest feel heavy — and at the same time, a flicker of pity passed through me for the old colleagues who were about to be shoved out into the field trusting nothing but that hollow shell.

Not that it was anything I could do anything about.

[That's why they summoned me. The system isn't running the way Han Tae-seok wants, so normalize it, whatever it takes. Haha... even after I fought that grand a battle on my way out. Even though he was the main culprit who tormented you and wrecked the field — and here I am, cooperating with [Ark] again. I'm sorry.]

So that was why he'd called.

Something pricked at the tip of my nose.

"...It's fine. There are exploration team members on the line, and with your experience, you'll be able to keep the worst from happening."

[I'm not so sure... This dungeon is no pushover, and it's a big one.]

Manager Jeong's sigh carried through the receiver.

[The [Cheka] people are furious. They said that unless the system proves itself beyond doubt in this joint exploration, it's over for good. And the exploration site, of all places, is...]

"Where is it?"

[Hydra's Ruin. Do you remember it? The Hunter Management Bureau filed a report on it, what, three years ago.]

Only then ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did it click.

It was that dungeon Managing Director Na Heera had mentioned. A three-year cycle. And the place where countless corporations — [Ark] and [Cheka] among them — would be conducting their explorations.

Every puzzle piece was clicking into place.

At this point, you might as well call it fate...

Han Tae-seok was desperate, and [Cheka] wanted ironclad proof. The final say sat with [Cheka], so choosing the highest-difficulty, most prestigious dungeon was the natural course of things.

I just hadn't expected it all to converge like this.

"That's a rough one. Looks like you'll have your work cut out for you, Manager Jeong."

[Hardly work at all... compared to what you used to do at [Ark], it won't even be a drop in the ocean. I'll do what I can, but maybe now Han Tae-seok will finally realize you were the center of [Ark]. What worries me is the kids in the field... Ah. Have you by any chance heard from Deputy Manager Choi Min-woo?]

Minwoo... the one who'd gotten his last annual leave approved by me, then — so the story went — marched up to Park Jin-chul and slapped his resignation letter down in front of him before walking out.

"I heard he quit."

[Word going around is that [Ark]'s performance has gotten so bad lately that job hunting isn't going well for him either... and there's talk he's been sniffing around the mercenary labor market on the black market. I can't just let the rest of the exploration team members end up like that...]

"The mercenary market, you say?"

That was unexpected.

If there was one textbook pushover in the company, it was Choi Min-woo. And that Minwoo?

[I thought he'd grown disillusioned with hunter work, but maybe he's just desperate for money... I'm worried. If word reaches you, Team Leader Kim, please talk some sense into him. Timid as he is, he's a good kid at heart. He was like a little brother to me...]

Manager Jeong left me with his anxious parting request.

But where worry should have been, an interesting picture was assembling itself in my head...

This dungeon was a 'no solo entries' affair, wasn't it? Even going in under [Midas]'s guest-advisor arrangement as Na Heera proposed, I'd have to meet the minimum headcount.

I couldn't bring just anyone — I needed someone whose abilities meshed with mine, someone I knew how to use well in unfamiliar terrain.

But Minwoo?

'He was always stuck in the rear as the team's youngest, so he never got a proper evaluation — but on pure skill, he's easily top-tier.'

I knew the boy's ability inside and out, and if I asked Na Heera, she'd come running at double speed to arrange it. I'd have to mind the disguise a little, but he was hardly the observant type, so that wouldn't be hard.

More than anything... I had always thought this:

The way [Ark] used its people was abysmal. Utterly. And that conviction had only hardened after my visit to [Dokkaebi].

'Might as well show Han Tae-seok and Park Jin-chul firsthand.'

Show them that what they discarded and sneered at was discarded only because their eyes were so flawed they could never use it properly.

"Understood. I'll keep it in mind. ...And, Manager Jeong."

[Yes?]

"Don't push yourself too hard on this exploration. You know as well as I do — when a crisis hits, trust your instincts, the ones you built working alongside me, over whatever answer the system spits out. That will be your only lifeline."

[.......]

[Thank you. I'll remember that.]

A sucker. A stubborn, straight-laced fool of a man — but one I didn't dislike.

The real reason the exploration would fail wasn't a lack of competence, but Han Tae-seok, who buried [Ark]'s teams in a place far beyond what they could handle. Still, this small consideration was for an old comrade who'd be left blaming himself when it all went wrong.

The black market Salon. Na Heera looked me over — or rather, looked over Choi Min-woo, whom I'd brought along through Jang Hyun-woo — with evident intrigue.

"You really intend to hire this hunter as a mercenary? This dungeon is a different weight class entirely. There are precious few unaffiliated hunters of that caliber — though if you'd asked, [Midas] could have scouted someone up for you..."

Choi Min-woo's shoulders flinched.

Perhaps that was what being a pushover meant. Even he seemed to feel the sting in Na Heera's words.

Well, fair enough — that was how he'd quit [Ark]...

That said, Na Heera's reaction told me the talk circulating about [Ark] these days was ugly indeed. Hunters weren't bound by contract anymore, yet the fact that Minwoo still hadn't landed anywhere said it all.

And much as it pained me to watch Minwoo get this treatment while Na Heera eyed me like some rare curiosity, I couldn't exactly blame her either. I had watched his operating work up close for a long time. I knew exactly what he was made of.

His primary tools were wires. Skilled at evasion through wire maneuvers, trap placement, and securing the rear, he'd been assigned the rear-support position at [Ark] —

But I had no intention of using him that way.

It was a power he'd only ever used for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the occasional trap, but as an awakened hunter, he possessed the ability Transition.

'If he transfers the Sharpness of my blade into a wire trap I've already designed...'

No ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠awakened hunter brought in as a mercenary, whatever their pedigree, would be able to match that performance in raw destructive power.

...Not that anyone else knew what I was thinking.

"That was [Ark] failing to understand how to use its people."

I continued calmly through my altered voice.

"What I need was never brute force. You saw it in [The Stopped World], and you saw it in [Crystal Cave]. All I require is someone who can execute my orders to the letter, exactly the way I intend."

"...M-me?"

At Minwoo's wide-eyed protest, Na Heera shrugged as if she couldn't comprehend my choice — then broke into a sly smile. Apparently, as long as the results were good, the rest didn't matter to her.

At the same time, she slid a card across the table.

"It's an honor to have someone even [Dokkaebi] couldn't keep join our side. The Bureau has imposed a minimum-entry headcount restriction, so our own hunters will be accompanying you as well. That won't be a problem?"

"As long as they don't get in the way."

"Of course. Pildu! Come say hello!"

Na Heera flashed a wide grin.

The site of the massive Dimensional Phase Shift.

Before the spectacle of a dungeon reconnecting after three long years, the fifth floor was packed with hunters from countless corporations.

"Managing Director! Can you hear me? Operating System check. All systems nominal!"

Park Jin-chul's voice rang out, reporting directly to Han Tae-seok, who was watching from the main control room himself. Beside him, Lee Seo-yeon and several other [Ark] hunters were visible as well.

Just then, a group bearing cameras — the unmistakable emblem of [Midas] — passed in front of the [Ark] contingent.

"...Huh? Wait, isn't that little rat Choi Min-woo?"

Park Jin-chul spotted him with uncanny sharpness and strode over — and the reaction from [Midas]'s side, no, from Minwoo, was ice cold.

"......."

He seemed to ignore him entirely, then, after a few seconds, apparently made up his mind. He whirled around and said:

"Choi Min-woo? Sir, do we know each other? And what's with the casual speech?"

Then he turned back around and walked on, pretending not to see him. Something, however small, had certainly changed.

'What on earth happened the day he quit...'

I was still musing on it when — though the mutter had been barely more than a grumble — Park Jin-chul, having heard it, exploded.

"Hah! The crazy bastard throws his resignation in my face and walks out, and now he's completely lost his mind?!"

Just as the atmosphere was about to turn ugly, the one who slipped between them was me — dark navy suit, strange-textured mask in place.

I carried a sleek briefcase and let my altered voice drift out from behind the mask.

I couldn't just leave Minwoo to twist in the wind. The boy's mental fortitude was paper-thin, after all. And this direction, well — I had plenty I'd been wanting to say ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to Park Jin-chul. Something along these lines, for instance.

"Ah. [The Stopped World], from back then."

"You... you're that..."

"How pathetic, that you've crawled all the way here. Planning to cut down a nine-headed Hydra in a single strike with those sluggish reflexes of yours? Can't decide if it's bravery or just a man shopping for his own grave."

Park Jin-chul's face flushed crimson in an instant as he staggered back a step.

His body was so slow that I'd routinely had to issue detour orders for him back in the day — so while the words were harsh, they were no exaggeration. Coming from him it would barely qualify as advice, and he'd just taken it full force.

Not that he was worth any further reply.

"Mr. Choi Min-woo. Let's go. There's a great deal to prepare."

"Yes, Advisor."

As Minwoo fell in behind the masked me, calling me Advisor, a murmur swelled among the surrounding hunters.

Lee Seo-yeon in particular stood there wide-eyed — 'Corporate Slave Life... is [Midas]'s advisor...?' — looking utterly lost.

Thinking of Han Tae-seok, who was surely watching this very scene, I cast a brief glance at an exploration drone, then set my foot toward the dungeon.

Deadly miasma and searing heat were already billowing out of Hydra's Ruin ahead of us.

Chi-ik—

I had seen acid that froze all it touched, and snowflakes that burned the world to ash — but before me, they were nothing more than gray dust, scattering into nothing.

I walked toward Hydra's Ruin, where venom and heat awaited.