Chapter 3. Mint Hero
Why the hell was that damned fairy here? Kang Ji-hyuk pondered why this hero bitch had shown up in this place. But the continent was riddled with so many incidents and accidents that it wasn't easy to pinpoint the exact one right away. Plus, it was something from way back....
His thoughts expanded from Eretria outward to the surrounding cities. His eyes, which had briefly closed, snapped open. Even after a dozen regressions, memories were a jumbled mess, but if he sifted through them patiently, he could always uncover the clues.
...The incident in Helladium.
The Helladium mass disappearance case—
It was an event Ji-hyuk hadn't personally experienced yet. He'd only heard about it in reports or stories, so he knew only the surface details, but it came up often enough that it stuck in his memory.
To cut to the chase, witches were behind it.
A couple of disappearances might slide, but when the number hit triple digits, even the city couldn't ignore it. Of course, the baron tried to handle it at first, but months passed with no resolution in sight. Then disaster struck while things dragged on—the baron's youngest son vanished.
The baron searched frantically for his boy but found no trace. Desperate, he appealed to the Empire, which must be why Elraim had been dispatched here—
Ji-hyuk couldn't recall if the baron's youngest had survived or died. ...Even if he had, after all this time, would a man-eating witch still be keeping the kid alive? Doubtful.
Anyway, that was the situation.
He needed money to reach the imperial capital anyway, and this seemed like a perfect gig to earn some. With the noble's own son on the line, they'd spare no expense. Even if he just brought back a skeleton, the reward would be generous.
Bonus: he could build connections with a hero ahead of time. No more blindly competing with other heroes like in his past loops. Not a full-on suck-up relationship, but at least some basic goodwill wouldn't hurt.
...Though how much that'd work on that damned fairy bitch was anyone's guess.
Ji-hyuk glanced at the hero. The fairy sat in her chair, leg crossed and foot bobbing idly as she fielded questions from the trainees. He slipped quietly from his seat and headed out of the auditorium.
He went straight to find Instructor Andre.
The instructor greeted him warmly, surprised to see him there. "Got a favor to ask."
"A favor? Shoot."
"Mind writing me a recommendation letter?"
"Recommendation?" Andre's eyes widened slightly, then the corner of his mouth curled up. "...Smart move. Joining a guild first is best. Starting from the bottom ain't easy. Sure, you'd manage, but why suffer if you don't have to? ...I know a good one. Want me to hook you up? Decent spot to crash for a bit."
"Not for a guild."
"Not a guild? ...Then what?" The instructor's smile vanished. In contrast, a smirk tugged at Ji-hyuk's lips.
"Mercenary recommendation."
· · ·
Eight long weeks passed, and the trainees finally reached their last day at the academy. "Graduation" day, but it was business as usual. Just Ralop's speech, then everyone went their separate ways.
"Take care, all."
The other four—all except Ji-hyuk—had nested in guilds. Especially Ungorap the buff shaman; he'd joined a guild so famous everyone knew the name. The others eyed him with envy, calling it an early win.
The five humans left without a backward glance, exchanging smiles and waves before turning away for good. ...Fleeting connections, destined to fade. Clinging to them would've been laughable.
Ji-hyuk strolled off alone, backpack slung over one shoulder. No one paid him any mind. Right now, he was nobody—no hero, no nothing. A strange lightness filled his chest. In this utter indifference, he found comfort.
Should he just bail? Vanish somewhere and never come back. If there was a paradise anywhere on this continent, he'd seriously consider it.
But sadly, no such heaven existed. The continent was a boiling hellscape. Monsters, mana beasts, demons, Demon Kings—and eventually the Great Demon King. A world so fucked it could collapse any day.
Fuck, what a shitty world—
Ji-hyuk chewed on the dried meat in his mouth, letting out a self-mocking laugh. Even if he wanted peace, the world wouldn't let him have it. Goddamn place.
"Hey, handsome, wanna play? I'll make it good."
A whore with half-exposed tits and heavy makeup flashed a lewd grin, soliciting even in broad daylight. After weeks of blue-balling his dick—only piss stench down there—he was starving for pussy. But money was the issue. He had a bit, but it was for the carriage fare. Subtract living expenses, and he had zilch left.
Too bad—keep walking.
Ji-hyuk headed to the mercenary guild first. The place buzzed with job-hunters. Unwashed stench assaulted his nose.
Child-molesting fuckwits—
He fanned the air around his face, waiting his turn.
"Next."
The clerk called him over. He slid the recommendation across the counter. Rookies usually jumped through hoops for registration, but one letter fixed it all. Plus, it bumped him straight to silver rank—no starting from dirt.
"Here. Next."
The clerk processed him quick, handed over the silver badge, and moved on. Ji-hyuk pocketed it and bolted from the stink.
He made for the carriage depot. Merchant caravans were comfiest, but his funds wouldn't cover it. Timing was tricky too. Multiple transfers it was.
The carriage was packed with broke-looking faces—reeked of poverty. Besides Ji-hyuk: one orc, one goblin, two humans.
"Fuckin' hell, load 'em up already and let's go!" the orc snarled, face twisted in rage.
The timid goblin avoided his gaze. No more passengers, so the driver whipped the horses. With a jolt, the carriage rattled out of Eretria.
Ji-hyuk watched the city's walls recede through the dust cloud. Landscapes from countless loops overlapped in his mind. Leaving like this this time, huh. The city soon vanished from view.
Another carriage trailed theirs.
Ji-hyuk scanned the sights busily at first, then boredom hit—he closed his eyes. Without visuals, sounds sharpened. But even they faded into darkness.
· · ·
Ten days later, Ji-hyuk arrived in Helladium. The city matched Eretria in size but felt emptier. Outwardly peaceful, but faces on the main streets carried a shadow. The disappearances were ongoing, their anxiety etched plain.
He grabbed a bite first, then hit the mercenary guild. Once mobbed, now flies buzzed in eerie quiet. Mercs frantic for the baron's kid had given up and left. No point sticking where the pay dried up.
Ji-hyuk eyed the rundown building. Bare-bones setup, couldn't hide the shabbiness. Low profits meant low expectations.
No line—he went straight to the counter. The female clerk asked sweetly what he needed. A mercenary guild clerk being sweet? Business must suck.
"Checking for work."
"Oh, plenty."
She rattled off jobs. Listening close, they were scraping odd chores since mercs bailed.
"Nah, not that."
Ji-hyuk flashed his silver badge. Her eyes sharpened—that marked a real deal, not some gutter stray.
"Something that pays."
"There is... but..."
"I've heard rumors."
Pure bluff. But he tossed it out—maybe a secret recruit.
"I, uh, don't have authority. Wanna meet the branch chief upstairs?"
Jackpot. He'd come to the right place. No big deal, and they wouldn't bother the chief.
Hero-related—had to be delicate. Ji-hyuk nodded and climbed the stairs beside the counter.
A burly orc guard loomed mid-corridor. Ji-hyuk thumbed back at the stairs: clerk sent him for the chief.
"Badge?"
Sharp for an orc—well-trained maybe. Ji-hyuk showed silver. Orc jerked his chin: go ahead.
He passed and knocked lightly on the branch chief's door.
—Who is it?
"Here for work."
—Come in.
Ji-hyuk glanced back before entering. Orc stared, arms crossed. He shut the door firm.
Nice setup for a branch office. Ji-hyuk scanned, then eyed the chief: forties, sharp features, thin lips and eyes.
"What brings you?"
"Heard it's important." Ji-hyuk flashed silver again.
Chief nodded. "This requires secrecy. Once you hear, no backing out—or jail till it's done. Still in?"
"Yes."
"Alright... this."
Chief pulled a paper from his drawer, slid it over. A contract.
"Fill in your number and name."
Ji-hyuk scrawled them in the blank at the bottom, amid the fine print. Showed the badge again—numbers matched his signature.
"...Good."
Chief snatched it back, drawer shut. He leaned elbows on desk, chin propped.
"Related to the disappearances. Hero needs silver-rank or better."
Bingo—spot on.
"His Excellency's sensitive about this. Hasn't given up on his son."
"...Got it."
"Base pay: thirty gold. Bonuses for results."
"Advance possible?"
"Sure. Fees go up, you know."
"Fine."
"How much?"
"Ten percent."
Chief wrote a payout slip: three gold advance. Fees jacked from twenty to twenty-five percent.
"Won't fill the roster by deadline, but it starts anyway. Three days left."
"Understood."
"Makes four with you. Plan on that."
He waved him out. Ji-hyuk left the office.