Dragon Essence
◈ Condition: Intact
◈ Usable for crafting humanoid / medium undead.
◈ Boss monster corpse. Stats are slightly enhanced when crafting undead.
◈ Contains a trace of Dragonkin Essence.[Spirit Eye]
D+.
Figures. It was a boss monster, after all.
“What good is it when a plus is attached to the grade?” Isra asked.
“It’d be stronger, I guess.”
“A rather vague answer, that.”
“I’ve never tried it, so I don’t know either.”
I’d seen plus modifiers on specific body parts before. But a complete boss monster corpse put up for sale as a whole? That was new.
“Unexpected,” she said.
“What is?”
“You appear to have been active as a hunter for quite some time, Sir.”
“They strip every profitable part and sell the rest. That’s why.”
An intact boss monster corpse was genuinely rare. Clearing a D-class gate solo and walking away with the entire boss body on top of it… a month ago I couldn’t have imagined this becoming reality.
“Kehehehe!”
“Pray restrain such undignified laughter.”
There was no one around to see. What was the problem with laughing honestly?
“Not in the least.”
She was firm about it.
“Then let us make a retainer of that corpse as well.”
“That can wait.”
“For what reason?”
Her tone turned rather sharp.
“I need to figure out what Dragonkin Essence even is.”
“I know not what that may be.”
Ah. Right—Sir Isra wouldn’t be able to see it. Status windows could be shared, but the extra options revealed by Spirit Eye were mine alone.
“Hmph. That a mere crocodile should possess Dragonkin Essence…”
Isra tilted her head. Dragons were no ordinary monsters. Lesser dragonkin like drakes and wyverns were all S-class. An Elikro Warrior was the sort of creature that earned the word “mere.”
“Same here,” I said.
Dragonkin Essence. Completely new concept to me. I had no idea how to use it, and nothing was urgent, so I’d keep the corpse from rotting and study it carefully over time.
“Then you will not craft it into an Armed Zombie Warrior for now?”
“Not right away.”
I had cleared an unpopular D-class gate alone—with only two retainers, no less. Unless a Break dragged me into something ugly, most D-class gates would be more than manageable with Sir Isra and a single Armed Zombie Warrior.
“A complacent mindset.”
“What now?”
“Did you learn nothing from this battle?”
“My retainers fight really well.”
“Hahaha—well, of course they do.”
Sir Isra laughed heartily, then let out a long sigh.
“I nearly fell for your verbal trap, Sir.”
What trap? I had no idea why she was suddenly putting on airs and flexing her neck like that.
“Just get to the point.”
“Do you recall when the crocodile head charged?”
“When it ignored you, you mean.”
“And if it had also bypassed the retainers to strike at you—what would you have done?”
“Counterattacked, obviously.”
Honestly, I’d flinched a little back then. The Elikro Warrior’s sheer presence had been overwhelming. Even so, I’d grabbed the spare bone knife I’d made, thinking I might at least parry once.
“I’ve got the swordsmanship you taught me, after all.”
“That very mindset is the problem!”
Excuse me? Come again?
Most people would call that courage.
“Why would you swing a blade yourself when you have retainers?!”
“Wasn’t that why you taught me the sword style in the first place?”
Heavenly Martial Body. And the Imperial Sword Style. Any warrior-type hunter would kill for skills like those. With a little more real combat experience, I was confident I could pull my own weight.
“Sir. Treat swinging that sword as a last resort only.”
“Like if every retainer gets wiped out?”
“Precisely. Placing my lord in danger once was more than enough in my previous life.”
Well. When she put it that way, I had nothing left to say. A knight still haunted by the failure to protect the lord she had sworn herself to… I could understand why she was so worked up.
“In that sense, would it not be wise to reinforce our forces quickly?”
And we were back to undead crafting again. I shook my head.
“There’s another reason I can’t, besides the Dragonkin Essence.”
“And what is that?!”
“The Armed Zombie Warrior almost blew itself apart.”
“Ah.”
Incomplete crafting method. The mana circuits had overloaded and nearly detonated. If I hadn’t had the Split Soul Stone, the whole attempt would have gone up in smoke.
“Then simply purchase that item!”
As if. How exactly was I supposed to buy a bound item?
“I can’t make another one yet.”
Either I refined the Armed Zombie Warrior crafting method, or I secured more Split Soul Stones from the Challenging Realm gate. The first would take real time. The second just needed legwork and a bit of luck.
“Hah. Then let us go at once!”
“I already ran a gate today, you know?”
I was exhausted. Floundering through a swamp, staying tense through the entire fight—I wanted to rest.
“Go! Did you not merely watch from a safe place?!”
“You just told me not to even think about picking up a sword.”
“Claiming fatigue is an excuse!”
“Nope. Not going.”
Clearing one gate was enough. Did she really want me to run a double shift? I had plenty else to do. I needed to pour mana into the Elikro Warrior corpse for a detailed examination, and I still had to research ways to improve the Armed Zombie Warrior recipe.
“All you have to do is swing a sword.”
“Do you dismiss honorable chivalry as something so trivial?!”
“I’m saying we work in different fields.”
Ugh. So tired. Still, I agreed with part of Sir Isra’s argument. Securing additional retainers mattered. I could always craft ordinary zombie warriors, but with only ten Death Space slots, I wanted to fill them with powerful undead if I was going to fill them at all.
I needed to hit the Challenging Realm soon. Problem was, it required a five-person party, so I’d have to hunt for a fill-in group. Annoying.
“Ah.”
Those guys. The hunters who had kept their mouths shut after I asked them to keep a secret. I already had their contact info. I’d text them tomorrow and see if they were free.
Knock knock knock—
“Mister! Come eat corn!!”
The absolute ruler of the house—my landlord’s daughter—called from outside the door.
“Yeah, coming right now.”
“If you’re late I’ll eat it all, okay?”
Yikes. That was no exaggeration. Kim Yeondo, speed-type awakener, ate at terrifying speed.
“Corn?”
“Yeah. The landlady’s steamed corn is ridiculously good.”
“I should like to taste it someday.”
An undead wanting to taste food… Sir Isra was no ordinary dead, so maybe it was actually possible.
“Five, four, three…”
“I’m going, I’m going.”
I couldn’t lose the corn. I had to get there before Kim Yeondo vacuumed it all up.
The Rift Management Agency headquarters in Gwacheon. A government body established alongside the Great Cataclysm. “Rift” was the official Korean government term for a gate, and the agency handled every duty related to them.
[Counter-Abnormal Bureau] — Management of high-risk gates; monster subjugation during Breaks.
[Personnel Bureau] — Hunter registration and hunter crime control.
[Management Bureau] — Tracking gate status nationwide.
Regardless of department, the Rift Management Agency treated overtime like a daily meal.
“Sokcho C-class gate mana density has broken ninety percent! Emergency request incoming!”
“What the hell was Management doing?”
“It was only seventy-two this morning, apparently.”
“Which idiots died in a gate this time?”
“I’ll put a helicopter on standby.”
Raised voices flew from every direction.
“Coffee?”
“Make it a Blue Cow.”
Hollow-eyed staff who seemed to have forgotten the word “quitting time” drank energy drinks like water. The headquarters never went dark. Gates did not care about business hours. New rifts could open anywhere, anytime. Locating them, allocating them to guilds, posting bounties—there was always more work than people.
Lee Myeongho, the officer in charge of the gate that had opened in Hanam Park—Deep Swamp—was one of those long-suffering civil servants.
“Urrrgh.”
“Overtime again?”
“Yeah. Should be done after today, though.”
“What? The Hanam gate got cleared?”
“It did!”
“Nice. Congrats. That one had you sweating for ages.”
The Deep Swamp gate in Hanam had been an unresolved headache for a long time. Not because Elikro were that strong—they ranked high among D-class monsters, but they were no match for a C-class hunter. The real problem was the entry condition: only D-class hunters could enter, so the place had been left to rot.
“Swamp terrain plus Elikro was the worst combo.”
“Still, someone cleared it. One of the Big Five?”
“No. Name I’d never seen before.”
Agency staff were expected to know the names of every rising hunter from the domestic Big Five guilds. You never knew when paths would cross.
“If he’s got talent, he’ll be famous soon enough.”
“True. We’ve even had S-rank promotions lately. Things might start shifting.”
“Wait—was that hunter the rumored S-rank?”
“No way.”
“I’m kidding.”
Lee Myeongho gave a short, dry laugh at his superior’s joke. Talented hunters always shook the industry. The current Big Five had only been able to dig in because a handful of overwhelmingly gifted hunters had appeared. The Rift Management Agency itself was always hunting for promising talent with fire in its eyes.
Nothing to do with me, though.
Hunter recruitment was Personnel’s job. He’d write it in the report and leave it to them.
Clack— clack—
Only at nine in the evening did he finally finish the paperwork. After hitting send, Lee Myeongho muttered, “Ugh, my stomach,” and headed for the restroom.
Phew.
Maybe because he was finally saying goodbye to overtime for a while, even that errand went smoothly. The good mood lasted only until he washed his hands and stepped out.
“You’re Assistant Manager Lee Myeongho?”
The moment he saw the man standing in front of his desk, the feeling melted away like snow.
“Y-yes, sir! Ah—!”
“Relax. Make yourself comfortable.”
A man well over six feet tall waited for him—sharp eyes and a lean frame that somehow fit together perfectly.
D-Director Jeong Seungil? Why is he here?!
Jeong Seungil, Director of the Counter-Abnormal Bureau. One of the living legends among Korean hunters, and the man who had made the Rift Management Agency what it was today.
Always ranked first in “strongest hunter in Korea” debates. During the Paju Monster Wave he had single-handedly held an entire army of monsters for five hours so civilians could evacuate. When the A-class gate Ironclad Tomb broke, he alone hunted down thousands of monsters…
A living legend with achievements stacked high enough that no one would have blinked if he had already become Agency Director. Yet he had chosen to remain with the Counter-Abnormal Bureau—said he was a field type.
The problem was that this untouchable giant of the political and financial worlds had come looking for him.
“Nothing major. I simply have a few questions about the report.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
A man of such rank who still insisted on polite speech. Lee Myeongho locked up completely.
“You may relax.”
How was anyone supposed to relax in front of the agency’s living legend? Lee Myeongho wanted to cry.
“The Deep Swamp gate was cleared, I see.”
“That’s correct.”
“The hunter—Park Minho, is that right?”
“Yes, sir!”
The tension made him shout. Jeong Seungil didn’t seem to mind. He asked about every detail of the situation—physical description, ability type, everything—in a completely flat tone, prying with surgical precision.
Ugh… he’s draining my soul.
When the questions ended, Director Jeong Seungil let out a short hum.
“Almost certain, then.”
“Sir?”
“What Assistant Manager Lee Myeongho saw… I will need you to keep that confidential for the time being.”
Information about the Deep Swamp clear. Lee Myeongho didn’t ask why. He simply answered, “Yes, sir!” with all the energy he had left. When someone that high up gave an order, what good did knowing the reason do? In office life, ignorance was often the safer medicine.
Park Minho…
Jeong Seungil repeated the name to himself. An S-rank promotion, and the one who had achieved an SSS-grade clear. Not ordinary. In the last few years, had any hunter stood out this sharply?
We must bring him in.
Even if they failed to pull him into the Rift Management Agency itself, some kind of connection had to be forged. Director Jeong Seungil was famous for his cold composure, yet in this moment a faint emotion slipped through.