The Legendary Mage's Broken Artifact
To recruit Jeong Yuna, I needed a proper research facility. Outside of the top five mega-guilds in Korea, hardly any guilds ran their own in-house labs. The reason was simple: they cost a fortune. But funding wasn't an issue for me anymore. Just flooding the market with mass-produced fantasy-world weapons would net me wealth beyond dreams. And if I monopolized their magitech engineering and alchemy too? I'm gonna be a legit chaebol, aren't I? Not long ago, I was scraping by day-to-day, and now this. Life's full of surprises.
Of course, all those rosy futures hinged on Earth holding together.
I'll have to seriously talk to the guild master about setting up a lab.
A few days later, I spent my time practicing the Seven Dragons Eight Trigrams Spear while busily prepping items to send to the fantasy quartet. My side was ready quick, but those old-timers needed time to gather their goods, so I waited patiently. Today, too, I was sitting cross-legged, cultivating my inner energy technique, when the TV news—left on out of boredom—showed pure hell.
"Whoa... they kept saying it was gonna blow, and boom, it did. What a mess..."
I muttered without taking my eyes off the screen. Downtown Phnom Penh, Cambodia's capital in Southeast Asia, was engulfed in crimson flames and crumbling debris. The devastation beaming through looked more like a disaster flick than reality.
An S-rank gate break. Monster the size of buildings rampaged through the streets, smashing everything in sight. Tanks and helicopters poured nonstop fire, but they barely scratched the beasts' thick hides before crashing uselessly.
In countries with weak hunter forces, when a big gate showed signs of breaking, the International Awakener Alliance dispatched top hunters for backup—that was standard protocol. But not this time. The global system difficulty spike had gates exploding everywhere at once. The Alliance's manpower was tapped out, and even superpowers were stretched thin defending their own turf. Cambodia, reliant on them for defense, got hit with this nightmare when the gate finally blew.
That's why they harp on self-reliant defense...
But this wasn't just someone else's problem. Neighboring countries were in panic, sealing borders. Asian markets were in freefall. Doomsday, once a distant word, was knocking at the door.
One silver lining: Earth's hunters were leveling up in response. Breaking news rolled in of S-rank elites like America's world #1, Bill Kent, awakening to SS-rank. Crisis was pushing humanity's potential past limits.
Still, it wasn't enough. No matter how high hunters ranked, they couldn't fistfight these jacked-up monsters barehanded. What humanity desperately lacked was high-grade gear and weapons to back their stats.
"It's all about the gear grind in the end."
I leaned deep into the sofa, lost in thought. Over the past few days, I'd stocked up mountains of stuff from big marts, electronics markets, and wholesale food spots for the fantasy crew. Once those geezers were ready, my inventory would overflow with fantasy magitech and potions.
Come on, grampses, hurry up... Earth's about to go kaput...
Blame Jermad for stirring things up. Even the Tower Master and Royal Alchemist were meticulously prepping their trade goods.
That's when it happened.
Knock knock—
"Come in."
The workshop door creaked open, and someone stepped inside.
"Oh? Guild Master. Long time no see?"
I greeted her warmly, but froze at the sight of Baek Hayeon standing in the doorway. It had been days since I'd seen her face, and she looked wrecked. Her usually neat ponytail was a mess, her pale face etched with exhaustion. Even her pricey armor was splattered with dried monster blood and long gashes.
For an S-rank hunter, she was a mess. Ah, Baek Hayeon had officially hit S-rank. But no time to celebrate—she'd been pulling all-nighters blocking near-break gates around the capital.
"Guild Master... y-you okay? You look half-dead."
She shuffled over on heavy feet and collapsed onto the sofa.
"Not even empty words... I can't say I'm fine. This is rough. Just gimme a sec to sit, Director..."
Her raspy voice, gasping for breath, was worlds from her usual poised self.
Aigoo... poor thing...
"Make yourself comfy. I'll grab you something to drink. How's it out there? Any S-rank gates? News says we're on the brink too."
I asked out of worry, and Baek Hayeon—head lolled back against the sofa, eyes shut—snapped her head up. A feral aura poured from her eyes.
"Those damn Taeguk Guild bastards!!"
Whoa, scared me!
"W-what? Why the sudden cursing?"
She punched the sofa arm, fuming.
"Sorry... it's just so bullshit! Before the system difficulty hiked, they hogged every S-rank dungeon clear and government handout, claiming top guild status. Now gates are spiking and clears aren't guaranteed? Get this—they want hunters drafted from every guild! They're just scared to risk their own forces!!"
"What fucking assholes!!"
I joined in the profanity, backing her up. Her rage made total sense. I'd seen the articles. Korea's undisputed #1, global top-10 powerhouse Taeguk Guild—national heroes—were refusing the S-rank gate raid on the capital outskirts showing break signs. Internet was ablaze.
They'd gotten all the perks and resources in crisis times, and now bailing? Backlash was huge. But counterarguments flew too: lose their elites here, and Korea's done—so saving strength was smart. Still, expecting mid-to-large guilds like Baek Hayeon's to fill the gap? Ridiculous.
"Haa... sorry. I lost it in front of you, Director."
She rubbed her dry face, apologizing. I handed her warm honey water and shook my head.
"No worries. If anything, I'm the sorry one. Everyone's out there risking life and limb, and I'm safe sucking honey in the workshop."
I'd mastered the Seven Dragons Eight Trigrams Spear and absorbed the Dragon Heart—got way stronger. But S-rank gate beasts? No way I was ready. I could clearly sense via the heart that her mana waves alone outclassed me.
Playing hero prematurely? Head gone in a flash.
Not yet. Until I've got overwhelming power, supporting with gear is the play.
Baek Hayeon downed the honey water, her face calming as she eyed me.
"I came to the workshop amid all this chaos for that thing you mentioned before."
I feigned surprise.
"Oh? Government gave the green light?"
A few days back, I'd pitched repairing high-grade broken weapons from the Hunter Association and government museums.
"Crisis escalating, gear shortage hitting hard—they finally approved. But they're skeptical, so just one item."
"Prove it works first, huh."
"Yeah. Nail this repair perfectly... you know it'll flip Korea's hunter scene. Hell, the world's."
I smiled casually, extending my hand.
"Let's see the goods."
Baek Hayeon carefully placed an item on the table. A dull, ashen orb, lightless, surface cracked and rough.
The second I saw it, I gasped.
"Whoa... this is it! The artifact from first-gen S-rank mage hunter Hyun Dae-cheol."
Korea's legendary first-gen hunter, now passed from age. His flame magic was said to rival natural disasters.
"Right. Super famous."
She nodded with a wry smile. Fan works everywhere made him a household name—games, anime, movies homaged him nonstop. His upright personality, long white beard perfectly suiting the mage class, skyrocketed his popularity. A true legend.
That hero's heirloom, ultimate magitech relic, dormant in a museum case for decades, now in my hands.
Baek Hayeon watched tensely.
"What do you think, Director? Can you fix it?"
Before her question even landed, I'd already started inspecting Hyun Dae-cheol's artifact closely.