A Fat Wallet

"Supreme Commander?! You alright, sir?! Frozen solid, are you, sir?! Did an invisible Medusa attack you, sir?!"

"He's frozen but his mouth is smiling! Momo's scared!"

Kancho and Momo clung to each other, trembling violently. Whether they did or not, Jinhyuk remained locked in place — as if someone had issued a forced halt command.

"What's the matter?"

Seira approached and leaned in, then began reading what was displayed on the phone screen.

"A hundred thousand... How does one even read the rest of this? There are far too many digits."

"Momo can read it!"

Momo shoved her face in and furrowed her brow with a level of concentration she had never once shown even when dismantling monsters.

"This is ten billion!"

"So it's sixty billion, then?"

"Yep! Momo's great at counting, how about that!"

Momo planted her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. All those number-reading drills she'd been squeezing in whenever she could were finally paying off.

"Master! Smart Momo, how about that!? How about that how about that how about that!"

As if demanding praise this instant, Momo threw a cotton-soft fist at Jinhyuk. Only then did he snap back to his senses and let out a gasp.

It was exactly as Momo had said. The number written in the message was sixty billion — the annual salary the Player Hunter Bureau had decided to pay Runner Yu Jinhyuk every year.

He pulled the bouncing Momo into his arms and read through the support proposal once more.

Four lines, briefly summarized — short, if you wanted to call them that. But the contents packed into them were immensely heavy. Even staring at it with his own two eyes, it still didn't feel real.

Sixty billion won?

His current bank balance wasn't even 500 million. He'd been more than satisfied with that, treating it as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an almost embarrassingly large sum. And now, all of a sudden, an annual salary more than a hundred times his total balance. The dizziness, in a way, was only natural.

Ding.

Following the notification, he opened the banking app.

Holy.

His heart grew pious... no. Magnificent. It wasn't even long past midnight, and the money had already landed. Between this and the studio apartment they'd provided, their handling of things was truly, refreshingly efficient.

"Seoul Central Player Hunter Agency."

He said it quietly, and the Yoddle Compass pointed the way. He offered a deep, full bow in that direction.

"Supreme Commander? What're you doing, sir?"

"Kancho, Momo, come do this too. We're rich now."

"Rich, sir?! Does that mean we can eat king crab every single day, sir?!"

"Yep! You can eat a hundred of them every meal!"

Kancho came rushing over and flopped down in a full prostration. Judging by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the way his tail wouldn't stop wagging, he was already lost in a king-crab daydream.

"Momo's gonna do even better!"

Momo came charging in and drove her head straight into the floor in a grand kowtow. For an instant her body folded to a perfect right angle. A friend who excelled at counting numbers and, as it turned out, bowing as well.

And so they were worshipping the Hunter Bureau at a level approaching religion when the phone rang.

Jinhyuk quickly dropped to his knees and answered with both hands, utterly respectful.

"Yes, Team Leader Jin Yunho."

"Oh, no need to apologize. I'm naturally nocturnal, so it's totally fine. Even later is fine — please call whenever you'd like."

"I just checked it now."

Gulp.

Jinhyuk swallowed dryly. Burden. Discomfort. Emotions he hadn't even considered until Jin Yunho mentioned them just now.

"It was a moment that made me resolve to climb the Tower even harder. I'll climb quickly and break Korea's highest floor record, too. Thank you for trusting me and offering this support."

He desperately wrung those lines out of himself so as not to let anything show. And on the other end of the line, a pleased smile spread across Jin Yunho's lips.

It was a world with a truckload of players who, even when you offered support with the best of intentions, turned around and acted like they owned the place. Players who, even when given support more generous than their objective worth, acted as though their real market value was higher and they were doing you a special favor by accepting it. Players who, once the money was in their hands, didn't climb the Tower as they were supposed to and instead blew through it with abandon. Players who used that money to cause news-worthy incidents that put the very Hunter Bureau supporting them in a difficult position. All sorts of people who caused nothing but grief, as far as the eye could see.

And yet this one had said he would climb the Tower even harder, and thanked them for the support. The Runner, whose achievements thus far already transcended the national stage and reached world-class. Truly, he was someone you couldn't help but adore and treasure.

Jin Yunho leaned back in his chair and continued.

"Director Lee Changgi and I requested an annual salary of 100 billion, but we ran into some opposition. Among the top rankers affiliated with the Player Hunter Bureau as freelancers, most are already in the 100-billion range, so allocating 100 billion to an outsider like the Runner would violate fairness, they said. We accepted it for now to prevent any further noise, but once your floor count rises, we plan to push for it again."

The corner of Jin Yunho's mouth lifted. Jinhyuk had said thank you — yet he hadn't said this amount was enough.

There were occasionally players like that, too. Those who, out of excessive humility or low self-esteem, set their own worth far too low. They groveled excessively and took on pressure and a sense of responsibility that this side didn't even want from them. That became the cause of them taking on dirty work they were never asked to do, or attempting reckless climbs, and meeting with unexpected accidents.

But there seemed no need to worry about any of that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with Jinhyuk. He was someone whose self-assessment was sharper than anyone's. Jinhyuk never sold himself short. The reason he'd accepted 60 billion despite having more than enough ability to command well over 100 billion was simply that he didn't want to create noise. It was the generosity and composure of a man who knew that as his floor rose, every privilege would naturally rise with it — of a man more confident than anyone that he would climb the Tower well.

A perfect balance and composure, neither excessive nor lacking. The more you looked, the harder it was to find a single flaw in this player.

"Ah, right. I heard you're currently in Japan."

"Ah... that's rather close."

"It may not have much to do with you since you're there as a tourist, but Japan's current situation is not ordinary. To put it briefly, the Yamaguchi-gumi, one of Japan's largest yakuza organizations, has been wiped out. According to information received through unofficial channels, some kind of problem has also arisen at Ronia Corporation, which has deep ties with the Yamaguchi-gumi. In the informant's own words, it's an unprecedented situation the likes of which has never occurred in Japanese history. Given that both have deep collusion with the political sphere, they say a massive storm is about to break."

Ordinarily, he wouldn't have worried. But this was the Runner. Currently, in Jin Yunho's mind, Korea's greatest treasure. He was already anxious when Jinhyuk was in Korea — and now the man was sitting right in the eye of the storm. His heart couldn't be at ease.

Color returned to Jin Yunho's face. His treasure was coming home — he couldn't be more delighted.

"A wise decision. If you're amenable, would you like to have dinner together? I'll come to the airport to match your schedule."

"Pardon? Then where...?"

A brief silence fell. Jin Yunho squeezed his eyes shut without meaning to. Japan already felt far enough — and now Wales? He had no idea how to put this dizziness into words.

Yu Jinhyuk was strong. So it wasn't that he was worried about the man going somewhere and getting beaten up. But where there is light, insects are bound to swarm. He couldn't help but be anxious that Jinhyuk might get swept up in some messy affair.

"Yes. Understood. Then I hope you have a pleasant trip. And if anything happens, please be sure to contact me."

Making an effort not to let it show, Jin Yunho hung up. He let out a deep sigh. What could he do? The man liked traveling abroad.

"Haa."

Jin Yunho sighed once more and picked up his phone. Worry was worry, but work still had to be done. He sent messages to Min Yu-kyeong and Gu Injun, who had been promoted to Grade 4 upon reaching the 70th floor, and to Eun Kangseok, a trustworthy freelance hunter. He intended to assign them ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the protection of Yu Jinhyuk's family.

After finishing the rest of his work, Jin Yunho buried himself in his chair. He opened a map app and checked Wales's location.

"Far. So far."

He muttered to himself and closed his eyes, praying that Runner Yu Jinhyuk would return without incident.

And at that same moment, in a luxury ryokan in Kyoto, Jinhyuk hung up and wiped away the sweat that had rolled down.

N-news sure travels fast.

Truly the digital age of the twenty-first century. Not even twenty-four hours had passed, and the news had already reached Korea.

Team Leader. You don't need to worry about me getting caught in the storm. I'm the one who made it.

He nodded with a face of the utmost solemnity. He offered his sincerest condolences to the countless people who would suffer because of this storm.

Anyway.

A smile on his face, Jinhyuk opened the Korean Air app with a considerably lighter heart. The price of a first-class direct flight from Incheon Airport to Wales was 10 million won per person. Booking for six would come to 60 million.

Filthy expensive, but cheap.

He was well aware those two things didn't add up. But what could he do? That was how he honestly felt.

First class on this aircraft has twelve seats total.

Fortunately, no one had booked a seat yet. Jinhyuk glanced at his bank balance once more, drew a deep breath, and checked all twelve seats.

His friends' first airplane experience. He decided to flex, so they could enjoy themselves without worrying about anyone else. Even so, Kancho would still have to use Stealth from time to time, but anyway.

Press it? Am I really pressing this?

They say those who've eaten meat know how to eat it — trying to spend money he had no habit of spending was no easy thing. With trembling hands, he pressed the button.

Tomorrow evening's Korean Air first-class flight to Wales. He'd gone and chartered the entire cabin.

A hundred and twenty million won vanished from his account in an instant. Even so, his heart was still at ease. Even after flexing like this, he still had over 5.3 billion left.

Clutching the phone with its displayed balance like a precious treasure, he laid his head down on Kancho's fluffy body. The journey to the Tomb of Swords that would soon begin. He hoped the sun would rise soon.