No Way, This Time Too?
Cha Yaeun sat off to one side, unpacking her distributed lunchbox, but it felt like she was chewing grains of sand.
Was it because the lunchbox tasted bad? No. It came from a guild with a stellar reputation and deep pockets, so it was surprisingly delicious—and piping hot, to boot.
Was it because she was eating alone? She wasn't antisocial or lacking in social skills. She could easily chat through small talk while eating with brand-new coworkers on her first day together.
Sure, the nature of the job meant she was surrounded entirely by guys, which felt a bit awkward, but it wasn't enough to ruin her appetite.
Yet here she was, savoring a tasty lunch while feeling like sand crunched between her teeth—all because her mind was far from settled.
Damn, Lebalheonda keeps popping into my head...
It wasn't just a vague hunch. The situation—or the flow of events—kept mirroring the novel in ways that left her deeply unsettled.
A novel was just a novel. She tried brushing it off, but fresh episodes from Lebalheonda kept sprouting up unbidden.
Hunters were as superstitious as sailors who flipped out if you turned over a side dish mid-meal—claiming it would capsize the boat. That's exactly why the other F-rank hunters had balked at this substitute gig, deeming it bad omens.
Anyone who endured supernatural weirdness inside gates would end up that way eventually. And for Cha Yaeun, the lingering trauma from the last incident only amplified her unease.
In the end, she found herself mechanically recapping the novel's plot, barely registering if the food hit her mouth or her nose.
If... this time too, something straight out of the novel happens...
Just like last time, her path to survival might lie hidden in those pages. She needed to think it through carefully.
Of course, common sense nagged at her: was it right to base real judgments on a novel's coincidences again?
But coincidence or not, that novel had already saved her life once. Humans were creatures of experience, after all. It wasn't weird to consult it again as a reference.
In the novel, it definitely went like this──
Sipping her warm soybean paste soup, the latest episode of Lebalheonda flickered through Cha Yaeun's mind.
Tempted by the high pay, Kim Min took on a rare porter job—and right from the start, something felt off.
It was hard to put into words: a gut instinct honed by recent real combat experience.
No hard evidence, but it had saved his life multiple times before, so he trusted it this time too.
At the same time, he hoped he was wrong—that everything would wrap up smoothly without a hitch.
Unfortunately, Kim Min's instincts... nailed it once again.
"There's an opening... Anyone willing to switch from mining to on-site support?"
Personnel from the Steel Guild arrived, explaining that an injury among the combat-support porters had created a vacancy they needed to fill.
They offered generous terms, but this was a Red Gate. No matter how cautious you were, unpredictable mishaps could lead to injuries—that's why the vacancy existed in the first place, right?
No one stepped up voluntarily amid the wary glances; everyone just eyed each other.
"Ha, fine then. We'll pick someone ourselves."
The guild member clicked his tongue at the hesitant workers.
Naturally, the mana stone miners looked shocked.
"We only came here to mine! What the hell is this...!"
Voices of protest erupted: no one had signed up expecting porter duty in a dangerous Red Gate like this.
As the guild member brushed off the complaints and scanned for a suitable pick, one voice cut through.
"I'll do it."
Kim Min stepped forward, sensing the atmosphere turning ugly. The guild's pushy attitude screamed something was wrong.
It felt like a taut wire about to snap, sparking disaster— so he intervened before it broke.
Those around him naturally tried to dissuade him.
Even with the good pay, this reeked of trouble; he could get seriously hurt.
But Kim Min pressed on, convinced bigger trouble loomed if no one volunteered.
"Haha, excellent decision."
The Steel Guild hunter nodded with a smile. Thankfully, Kim Min's offer defused the tension on the surface.
But it was only skin-deep; the underlying rift remained unfilled.
"This vibe... it's bad."
Even without years of porter experience, anyone could tell: something fishy was afoot with this job.
Real combat was inherently unpredictable; absolute safety didn't exist. Hunters clashing directly with monsters went without saying, but even porters hiding in the safest spots occasionally caught stray arrows or worse.
That was gates. That was the field.
So an injury cropping up, prompting a call for replacements from the mining team to smooth the raid? Not entirely unreasonable.
Still...
Forcing replacements like this, even in an emergency? It's off.
Kim Min's expression stayed grim, like he was voluntarily strolling into a tiger's den.
In real combat, where anything could happen, backup porters were raid basics—especially in massive operations.
This wasn't some ragtag party; the Steel Guild botching fundamentals like that? Hard to buy.
The sense of wrongness hit Kim Min hard.
He'd volunteered figuring he could bolt if shit hit the fan, but now it felt like he'd stumbled into a clusterfuck beyond his worst imaginings.
And sadly, his hunch was spot-on.
What awaited Kim Min, who volunteered in place of the injured porter, wasn't porter duty—but the role of 'bait.'
A valuable hidden piece lurked deep in the gate's dungeon.
Guarding the path to it: an annoying sentinel in the form of a puppet doll, unnaturally strong.
Rather than clash and risk depleting forces, the Steel Guild opted for bait to lure it away—then snag the hidden piece and bail.
They planned to sic useless F-ranks on the sentinel for distraction.
Realizing he'd been roped into a deranged scheme far beyond expectations, Kim Min seethed.
Strategically using bait in monster hunts wasn't unheard of.
But that applied when capable hunters volunteered per plan—not this sacrificial lamb bullshit.
And even if it somehow worked out...
No law says they won't silence us to protect the guild's reputation.
That fear gained grim plausibility soon enough.
"Hiiik...! N-no, I can't!"
"This is insane! I'm out!"
"Never pegged Steel Guild for this—total letdown!"
"D-did you even properly report this to the Association? Bait without consent?!"
The porters rebelled at the forced bait role.
"Ha, you idiots only listen when we smile nice?"
"Still don't get it, morons? You~ have no~ choice."
Instead of persuasion, Steel Guild drew blades—turning 'requests' into outright threats.
This was blatant illegality.
Executing it casually meant they planned to slaughter everyone and seal lips.
Not just this group—the mining team was endangered too.
If things went south, they might conscript more 'bait,' or worst case, sic the sentinel on the miners.
"What the hell's worth all this...?"
Gates were lawless zones, sure—but even lawless zones had unspoken rules.
Steel Guild was spitting on them outright.
Whatever they coveted must be huge. Kim Min clicked his tongue in disbelief.
"It's an elixir."
One of the now-forced bait porters overheard guild mutterings and replied to Kim Min's grumble.
"Caught 'em whispering earlier... something about a Great Reversion Pill-level elixir──."
Kim Min's face twisted at the explanation.
Annoyingly, it made their extreme measures click in an instant.
An elixir—and not just any, but the legendary Great Reversion Pill tier? Enough to drive anyone bloodshot with greed.
Of course, that didn't excuse deceiving, exploiting, and sacrificing innocents.
Elixir or not, they should've handled it internally.
Steel Guild's callous disregard for lives, preserving their strength while grabbing the prize, filled him with disgust.
He'd known they stirred controversy with aggressive tactics before, but not to this extent.
Guilds grew by getting their hands dirty sometimes, like corporations—but Steel Guild's rot ran so deep, whispers of underworld ties weren't surprising.
Who could've guessed they'd stoop this low?
Those rare hidden treasures in gates—serendipitous fortunes, widely known as hidden pieces.
To sacrifice strangers for one, as if it were natural.
And to find himself on the chopping block? Kim Min couldn't suppress a sigh.
In the end, he braced for another desperate fight for survival.
And amid that struggle, he gained something unimaginable.
Not some elixir—but the gate's true 'fortune.'
The Steel Guild had discovered a hidden chamber here and naturally pegged the elixir inside as the hidden piece.
The clues and guarding puppet pointed that way.
But the real hidden piece wasn't that elixir.
It was the very puppet they dismissed as a mere obstacle.
This puppet's movements... they're not just for eliminating threats to the elixir!
Forced into bait duty and battling the puppet sentinel, Kim Min realized it.
Beneath the surface, this thing was 'teaching' something.
And that lesson was martial arts...
The pinnacle of fortunes.