Chapter 30
“Huh?”
“Reporter, write an article that pumps up Gamulchi Media's stock as much as possible.”
“W-why?”
“The higher it climbs, the less time they'll have to recover when it crashes.”
“But how are you even going to make it fall...? Anyway, before that—what's in it for you, Wonseok?”
“I'm going to short it.”
“Short it?”
Short-selling. In the simplest terms, it's betting against a stock that's about to tank and profiting from the drop.
The more a company's value plummets, the bigger the windfall for those who've shorted it.
“Just write the most glowing article you can about Gamulchi Media.”
“...That wouldn't be hard... but you're going to burst the bubble eventually, right? I still have to report this up the chain.”
“Convince them.”
“Got it.”
Immediate agreement.
I watched Gija-ryeong pack her bags through the black subway safety door. Then, out of nowhere, she turned to me.
“But why me, of all people? Even if HTN and KBC don't get along...”
“Trust starts unsecured.”
The man reflected in the subway door warned her.
“No collateral means if it crashes, you could end up in the red. That'd be tough to fix.”
“...!!!”
A cold smile played on the man's lips—one I could hardly believe came from my old self.
“Just set the sails, reporter. I'll handle the wind.”
“...”
Gija-ryeong paled and staggered away.
“Whew...”
Once she was completely out of sight, I peeled off the face skin in a deserted spot.
“Ugh. Being high-handed doesn't suit me at all.”
The inside of the Surprise Texture Mask was damp with cold sweat.
Thirty minutes later.
From the HTN rooftop, Gija-ryeong urgently called Reporter Park—the senior she'd briefly chatted with over coffee before.
She'd summoned him for advice from a guild-beat veteran.
“Hold on. Let me think.”
“Take your time.”
After hearing her out, Park rubbed his sallow face dry.
“...I'll make a call.”
Gija-ryeong nodded. She hid her anxiety well, but her heart raced.
Park returned after a brief call.
“He says go for it.”
“Who?”
“The deputy director!”
Gija-ryeong downed her coffee in one gulp. The burning heat down her throat didn't faze her.
They practically ran to the deputy director's office. A middle-aged woman with dark circles of irritation glared at them.
“Gija-ryeong.”
“Yes, Deputy Director.”
“You trust this?”
Gija-ryeong met her gaze steadily.
“You told me back when you were team lead—fact-checking can wait.”
“Hey, kid... This isn't the same league.”
“It's solid.”
“...Sigh. You got this straight from the tipster...?”
“Just came from meeting him.”
The deputy director pressed her eyelids.
Then she held out her hand to Gija-ryeong.
“Hand it over.”
“The evidence—the tipster took it back...”
“Who asked for that? Your resignation letter!”
Ah.
Gija-ryeong meekly presented her resignation. The signature and name lines were still blank.
The deputy director tapped it with her pen.
“Gija-ryeong, what'd you say your dream was at your interview?”
The sudden unrelated question threw her.
“I... think I said I wanted to climb the ladder.”
“You know if this flops, it won't just block your promotion—your whole career, and all your juniors' too?”
“...I'm prepared.”
“Damn it! You think you can shoulder that? You're just an associate!”
“...Sorry...”
The deputy director sighed and picked up her pen.
She scribbled something on the resignation. Gija-ryeong's vision blurred. She'd chased ambition, only to get fired.
The deputy director spoke.
“One question.”
Final warning?
“...Yes.”
“What's this tipster like?”
Gija-ryeong hesitated, then answered.
“Someone you don't want as an enemy.”
“Trustworthy?”
“Haven't met enough to say.”
“I see.”
The deputy director flicked the resignation back at her.
It fluttered to the floor. Gija-ryeong and Park jumped.
“D-Deputy Director!”
Her name and signature were on it.
“Gija-ryeong.”
“Y-yes!”
“I get paid more than you to take the heat when shit like this hits. Got it?”
“...Yes.”
“Give it everything!”
“Yes!”
“Always so feisty.”
The deputy director chuckled.
“If you want to rise, cling to that tipster you don't want as a foe. Don't end up an old has-been like me or the HTN vets from picking the wrong enemies.”
She turned her back on the two juniors.
“Park, soon as you leave, call the desk and form a special task force. Sharpest guys. You're team lead.”
“...Me? She's got direct contact with the tipster...”
The deputy director furrowed her brow.
“She's still an associate, kid. Who puts an associate on a headliner team? You're the guild-beat guy. Take point this time.”
“But I...”
“I'm submitting this resignation to the director the second this wraps. Nail it, and I'll pave your way here.”
“I've wanted this bad, Deputy Director.”
“Oh, before that—cough up yours.”
“Pardon?”
“You're in the hot seat too. If it tanks, we'll pack bags together.”
“Ah... uh...”
“Ja-ryeong, support Park actively while meeting the tipster.”
Gija-ryeong pouted.
“Oh? Fix that face.”
“...”
“Why don't you run the station... Sigh, whatever. Out.”
As Gija-ryeong and Park grabbed the door, the deputy director's voice snagged their collars.
“Ja-ryeong, you want real impact, right?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Then do that.”
“That?”
Her face lit up at the follow-up.
Kekeh, kekeong!
A pack of kobolds shook their clubs, closing in from all sides. I kept a five-step rolling distance, eyeing them.
They swayed side to side. The moment their formation shook, one lunged. Legs blurring with afterimages.
Crack!
My knee met it head-on. The kobold's face shattered. It flew back, spitting broken teeth—stirring an odd pity in me, the attacker.
What can you do? Kobolds and humans differ by three times in leg length.
Ah, short, noble creatures taking low kicks to the chest. But the only good kobold is a dead kobold.
Kekehng...!
Inspired by the brave sacrifice, the rest leaped in unison.
Kobolds are canine monsters—bipedal wild dogs. Learning from the first's mistake, the others accelerated on all fours.
Their feral musk tickled my nose. I swung my blade. One kobold died, neatly bisected.
I planted my right foot, mustered all my abdominal pressure, and spun hard. Centrifugal force bent Blood Shadow into a packed silver full moon.
Everything around me tore.
Skin ripping, kobolds split at the navel—upper and lower halves flying. First row annihilated. I spun again. Iaijutsu. Blood Shadow's edge clashed with monster hide. The blade's momentum grew heavier, unyielding.
Second row wiped.
I'd decimated up to the second line in place. Survivors hesitated in fear. Short legs scrambling to flee.
I sent them to the afterlife personally.
“Whew. Feels like ages since I went full pro mode—got a real pump there.”
Snapping to, I was drenched in blood. Meanwhile, Hemo stretched like a web, scooping loot.
Nanjung Flag's effect triggered! Loot yield +25%!
Golden Die effect triggered simultaneously! Rolled '3'—additional 1.3% loot correction!
It was hard work, blood and sweat.
But the rewards felt a bit overkill for the effort.
Don't get hooked, Wonseok. Dopamine rush here, and boom—you're a fraud.
'Still, enjoy it while it lasts.'
Floors 1-10 are tutorial. EXP and loot alone skyrocket your rank. Beginner-friendly, I guess.
From 11 up, no more exploits. Real game starts—gotta go straight through, no shortcuts. Kinda sad this is basically the last cheese day.
“...Kobolds in a pack aren't easy.”
I wiped my face and Blood Shadow with a handkerchief. Hemo, done with its share, poked me with a fin.
“Yeah, let's head out and rest.”
We exited the gate. After turning the second-floor showers' warm water bloody, we hit the lobby.
Chaos market as usual. Bustling.
“Not even surprised anymore. What the hell is that guy's deal?”
“Scouts are tearing their hair out ID'ing him.”
“They probably hounded the Association for joint records to out him, but nada...”
“Don't B-rank+ get their own Association lists?”
“Means he's under B.”
“Holy shit. That 10-floor score? Minimum A-rank, and he hasn't updated?”
“Exactly. Impressive, but sketchy as fuck.”
...Sketchy guy remembers what you said.
I sat on a bench away from the crowd. Energy bar from the vending machine spiked my sugar. Fireworks in my brain.
'Sugar high, huh.'
Hemo sneaked me a water bottle.
“Thanks.”
Slime worrying about its master's blood sugar. Good slime.
Energy surged through my veins. I leaned back loosely. Any more, and I'd pass out.
'Heart of enemy territory here.'
I snapped my eyes open and summoned my status.
Eternal Blessing
Level: 19 → 20 imminent
Awakening Ability: Undetermined
Level 20 was right around the corner.
'Chaos Gates are stingy on EXP.'
Commuting to Yeouido, and still no 20.
EXP gain slowing too.
'No Han Biyeol, so it's slower.'
Enemy, sure, but his shared EXP was sweet. Way better than this vending machine bar I'm chowing.
Come to think of it, haven't seen him at the 64 Building lately.
'Flash in the pan.'
Boiled over hunting me, then cooled fast.
Should've paced that passion.
“Mm.”
Greenbelt Gate loomed.
Keeping skills sharp in Chaos Gates for fieldwork feel.
'Swordplay's second nature now.'
Need a sub to fill the gap in my leaky jar.
That's Han Biyeol.
“Not much time.”
Short-term goal isn't just conquering Greenbelt.
Lure North Ocean Guild to Paju too.
Can't slack on leveling though.
I asked Hemo, melting an almond nearby.
“Hemo, what rank you figure I am?”
〔……. ……. …….〕
Reading the room, this guy.
“Be honest.”
〔……! ……!! ……! ……!!!〕
...Huh? That all?
Mid-to-upper D-rank?
'Stings...'
Separate from the chest-pang of objectivity—no one knows my combat better than Hemo.
This is spot-on.
A notch above Uncle Choi.
Tech-wise, Chaos Gates have me ahead—no contest.
Problem's my trash stamina.
One Chaos run, and I need gut-filler to reboot.
'Eternal Blessing rocks, but... stamina drain's brutal.'
Even without my Subordinate nearby. Innate risk of the blessing, I guess.
“Wanna hit at least 20 before Greenbelt.”
...How.
'Got it.'
I fed the rest of my energy bar to Hemo, then opened KakaoTalk.
Scrolled open chat rooms a bit.
'Found it.'