Hunting Newcomers (2)

Ting—

Thud—

The lower half of the body, its upper half gone entirely, crumpled to the floor.

“......”

He had originally planned to make the man cough up every item he owned and only then finish him off, but Fist Strike had turned out even more powerful than he'd expected. He'd swung at the sword, and the man's entire upper body had gone up along with it. Well — fair enough. This was destructive force that pulverized even A-rank raid monsters in a single blow; what more could he have expected?

Even so, it wasn't as though he walked away with nothing.

Items whose owner had died — and whose ownership had therefore lapsed — could be picked up freely. On ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠top of that, the man had been a Corrupted Hero, his ledger of misdeeds stacked high enough to earn him a bounty.

Ting—

A faint glow rose above the lower half of the corpse, already growing cold. This was how slaying a Corrupted Hero yielded his possessions. The only pity was that whatever the man had been carrying dropped at random.

Woobin thrust his hand into the light. A strange sensation met his skin, as though he'd plunged his arm into water.

Ting—

Two items waited inside the light.

Not bad.

For loot he hadn't been expecting, it was a respectable haul. The Chalice and a Soul Stone — both counted among the absolute essentials of hunting.

Ting—

The Chalice was essentially a potion that never ran dry — so long as you recharged it, its uses were unlimited. E-rank was a shame, but it restored both HP and MP, and in generous amounts ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠besides, which made it more than serviceable for the early game. Woobin slipped it into his inventory and checked the next item.

The potential of a Soul Stone was limitless — a support summon that could pull a monster's aggro and put out damage on the side.

Ting—

Whoosh—

The moment the Soul Stone activated, blue light gathered out of the empty air. Little by little, the light wove itself into a single form — a medieval knight standing nearly two meters tall. In life it would have blazed with an overwhelming golden presence, but a spirit body knew nothing so distinctive as a color of its own. There was only the blue glow, and a semi-transparent body.

Ting—

“Can't use this one for long.”

Woobin shook his head at the spirit's stats. Before he'd been locked away in the dungeon, his own spirit body had been A-rank — its level approaching 120, capable enough to butcher most level-150 monsters single-handedly. This one, by comparison, was a thorough dud. The stats would pass for a tank, but it didn't have so much as a single empty skill slot to its name. If there had been even one free slot, he could have equipped a skill with good synergy alongside Iron Wall Defense and gotten real mileage out of it deep into the mid and late game.

Ting—

With the Soul Stone stowed away ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in his inventory as well, Woobin turned his gaze. The woman lay dead to the world, eyes shut tight, utterly oblivious to everything around her.

If Woobin hadn't been here, where would her path have led? Beaten by that man, tortured, her items pried off her piece by piece, strung along like bait — and then, perhaps, sold off to a slave market to carry on a life straight out of hell. And yet her mental fortitude was so frail that a single punch had knocked her out cold. He'd read her wrong. He didn't like it.

What do I do with her?

Woobin sank into thought. When he'd first crawled out of the dungeon, there had been room in his head for one thought only: tear those bastards apart as soon as humanly possible. Which was exactly why he'd planned to hunt rookie heroes without sparing a moment's thought for his Karma Value. But now, with a little time behind him and his reason recovered, his thinking had changed.

Not yet.

A hero's Karma Value started at a base of 100. Evil deeds drove the number down into the negative, and the instant it touched zero, a bounty went up on your head — and every hero in the world became your hunter. And that wasn't even the worst of it. Once branded a wanted criminal, you were barred from the auction house, from the community, even from setting foot inside neutral nations. He still had far too much left to do; penalties like that, this early, were out of the question.

So how could he take someone's items without his Karma Value taking the hit?

Hmm...

Woobin rose to his feet, as though a decision had settled in his mind.

Might as well start by leveling my Skill Cards.

The woman didn't look likely to wake anytime soon — and besides, working on his Skill Cards was something he needed to do anyway if he wanted his combat strength at full power.

Ting—

Woobin conjured a door out of thin air and stepped through into the workshop.

Ting—

Fwoooosh—

The moment he entered, flames surged up to fill the room from wall to wall.

Remarkable.

His body flinched instinctively at the sight of fire, yet there was not the slightest heat. Safety confirmed, Woobin got straight to work. He lifted a foot and gave the floor a light tap.

BOOM!!!

Ting—

Pleasant notifications began popping up one after another.

Ting—

“Excellent.”

A satisfied smile spread across Woobin's face as he looked over Great Earthquake's maxed-out options. As the list of effects made plain, from the fifth option onward the quality climbed to another tier entirely — because from level 6, where that fifth effect unlocked, Skill Card levels turned hellishly stubborn about rising. An S-rank active skill was the kind of card that might never reach level 9 even after ten years of desperate grinding. Woobin, however, could shatter that formula with absurd ease. It had taken exactly four tries. Four attempts, and the S-rank Skill Card had been pushed all the way to level 10.

The unlocked options exceeded his expectations. The Destruction attribute, opened up at level 10, was especially useful.

God, this one's a pain-in-the-ass option.

The description was vague, but among heroes this effect ranked as first-tier, the best of the best. Because Destruction devoured everything — item durability first, then a monster's barrier, and even a player's HP besides.

Woobin's brow creased as he read over Advanced Unarmed Combat's options. He didn't like them. The 50% cut to melee damage taken and the 10% boost to all stats were nice, but the rest of the options were of little use. And yet, staring at this Skill Card, Woobin found a different possibility hiding inside it.

Ting—

The gap in price between a level 1 card and a level 9 card came out to roughly sixty-eight-fold. Of course, Advanced Unarmed Combat itself would never actually move at those figures, but in practice the market value of most Skill Cards traced exactly that curve — which meant a popular card stood a very real chance of changing hands at a serious premium. Played right, this angle alone would make scraping together Runes no chore at all. The only snag was that the heroes driving the demand weren't exactly numerous...

I'll look for something suitable later.

His mind settled, Woobin closed the system window and stared straight ahead. Roughly ten minutes had passed since he'd stepped out of Chronos's Workshop. The woman was still out cold, showing no sign whatsoever of waking.

Can't be helped.

Left with no alternative, Woobin smacked her across the cheek — once, twice, three times.

“Mmmh—”

The woman's eyes cracked open, her face scrunched up like an office worker wrung dry by another brutal week.