Chapter 3―2. The Fruits of Training (1)

The basement level of Lee Jun's house was far more spacious than the building above it.

The reason for that was... this very training hall.

"I'll set it up for Stage 1 first."

"Understood."

There were several reasons the underground training hall needed to be so large.

Convenience of training, the number of users, the creator's boredom... and so on.

But the biggest reason of all was this.

"Stage 1."

"Take out me and Borges."

Once the setup was complete, the management program spat out enemies at random from the stored data. Naturally, that included monsters, but also a handful of hunters who had entered their own data into the system.

Lee Jun was the prime example.

Since he was comparatively low in difficulty, he'd been assigned from Stage 1 onward.

"Alright, Seo Yoon. Get ready."

With a dry, mechanical whir, three robots rose from the floor.

Their design was rough-hewn and metallic — anyone could tell they were machines at a glance. But looks aside, they were robots with the full characteristics of real monsters programmed into them.

Goblin, kobold, bloodbat.

Robots modeled after each of those monsters. Beneath the floor of this underground training hall, every enemy in the training system was implemented as a robot.

And that was precisely why this place was so vast.

The monsters themselves were all pushovers, but as a Stage 1 lineup it was a tricky combination — a melee goblin, a ranged kobold, and flying bloodbats.

Of course, the system always put together the worst possible combination and set the time limit just as tightly. Anyone experiencing this method for the first time would find it quite difficult.

But it's exactly as useful as it is hard, when it comes to improving one's skills.

These robots ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠faithfully reproduced every last trait of the real monsters. Lee Jun could take pride in that, since he had personally organized and handed over the data himself. After all, this was the man who'd survived on analysis and hard-won know-how precisely because his raw ability fell short — he'd catalogued everything down to the minor habits and individual quirks of each monster.

"Seo Yoon, are you ready?"

"Yes. You may begin whenever you wish."

"Good. You'll be running through all ten stages without a break, so keep an eye on your stamina management too."

Seeing Seo Yoon nod, Lee Jun turned to speak to Choi Jeong-hyeon as well.

"Jeong-hyeon, watch closely. You'll practically be living down here until you get used to that prosthetic arm."

"Yes—yes, sir...!"

With that said, Lee Jun watched Seo Yoon settle into her stance, then activated the system.

A blue light flickered to life in the robots' eyes all at once. Their power was on.

"They have self-repair functions, so feel free to smash them to pieces."

A nod. Seo Yoon gave a grave little bow of her head and re-gripped her dagger.

Let's see... just how ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠much of the manual she's absorbed.

Her stance passed, at least. Lee Jun had corrected her from dual-wielding daggers to using her right hand alone.

"Jeong-hyeon. What weapons do rogues usually wield?"

"Um... two daggers... isn't that right?"

"Correct. You could stand to say it with a bit more confidence, though."

"Ahaha..."

As Lee Jun watched Seo Yoon enter combat, he continued his explanation to Choi Jeong-hyeon.

Dual-wielding daggers was, by nature, not a realistic style of combat. When people actually fought with two swords, the common approach was to pair a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠longsword with a short blade, dividing offense and defense between the two.

But reality aside, hunters of the rogue class fundamentally handled paired daggers as their default.

Why was that?

"Hm... is it because rogue classes generally have high agility stats? Some of them put points into strength as a second priority, too."

"That's the right answer."

Expecting realistic combat doctrine from this world was laughable in the first place — because now, this was reality.

People could cross a hundred meters in under three seconds and leap four to five meters in a single jump. Look at the very top-tier A-Class hunters, and they could run from Seoul to Busan in barely an hour.

In a world like this, going on about realism was a losing game.

"Since they stack agility so high, rogues can focus on evasion instead of defense. Which means there's no need to dedicate one hand to guarding in the first place."

That meant both hands were free to fight on the offensive. All they had to do was not get hit.

"And putting points into strength lets you compensate, a little, for the daggers' inherent limitations as a weapon. Dual daggers were never meant to cut an enemy down in one clean blow, right? You wear them down, accumulating damage step by step."

That was all a dagger user needed. They were support dealers by role anyway; the heavy firepower could be left to the mages.

Setting aside the hunters who cleared dungeons solo, this was the correct way for a rogue in a party to grow. And fighting that way made stamina important too — it meant grinding the enemy down slowly, over a long fight.

That was why Lee Jun had focused on building up Seo Yoon's endurance.

And then—

Seo Yoon drove her dagger into the head of the last remaining goblin robot.

Accompanied by the mechanical chime, the stage advanced. Five robots rose this time.

Two nolls and three zombies.

Zombies, huh.

Being undead made them troublesome, and if you got careless, they could turn even the monsters you'd already killed into more zombies — which made them harder than your average Stage 2 opponents. Getting bitten wouldn't spell disaster, but there was always the risk of catching various debuffs.

Which made them a particularly nasty matchup for a dagger-wielding rogue.

Without a moment's rest, combat began anew. And Lee Jun, watching her work, carried on with his lecture.

"Now then, let me explain why I recommended Seo Yoon use one hand instead of dual daggers."

Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, Seo Yoon drew the hidden blades at her waist with her left hand.

Exactly three of them. The blades shot out in a blink and skewered the zombies' heads in unison.

"Seo Yoon isn't a standard class, you see."

The assassin — the advanced tier of the rogue line. Assassins could learn a wide array of throwing-related skills, and eventually even forge projectiles directly from mana.

Efficiency aside, they could even generate neurotoxin from mana, letting them all but replace a shaman's role in a pinch.

Granted, for that to become possible, her mana overload would have to be cured first.

But still... that day isn't far off either.

In other words, the day Seo Yoon's combat style was complete was drawing near.

"So... she'll cover both ranged and melee, one hand for each?"

"Exactly. And once she's used to that style, she won't be bound to any fixed role for her left or right hand."

In short, she'd be able to throw projectiles with both hands, or dual-wield her daggers if she chose. The moment she mastered it, she could shift freely between positions.

And this stance was Lee Jun's own fundamental style as well — gun in the left hand, dagger in the right. It was a combat doctrine he'd honed for decades, and he took pride in an understanding of it that no one could rival. Which was exactly why he was confident no one alive could teach it better.

This time it was a single orc accompanied by five bloodbats. It was no ogre, but an orc still qualified as a semi-large monster — and she'd have to deal with it while fending off the bats nipping at her in the gaps.

Another awkward combination, as expected. Especially for the rogue class.

No breathers, as ever. But Seo Yoon showed no sign of fatigue yet.

Well, it had only been a little over three minutes.

Watching Seo Yoon slip past the orc's club, Lee Jun turned to Choi Jeong-hyeon with a question.

"And... why do you think I'm explaining all of this to you, piece by piece?"

"Huh?"

Choi Jeong-hyeon turned the question over in her mind, chewing on it seriously. But nothing seemed to come to her; she frowned and racked her brain with an anguished little hum.

Well, fair enough. Someone who'd only run dungeons in a small party would have little reason to know.

"A tank needs to know everything about the party. How each person uses their skills, what magic they favor, what position they take once a fight starts — all of it, down to the finest detail."

The front line — and the tank above all. These were the ones who held the party's foremost position in battle. So was the only thing they needed to worry about the attacks flying at them from the front?

"No, it isn't."

"It... isn't?"

A tank had to have perfect knowledge of the attacks their allies threw out as well. Only then could they time their strikes — hitting and falling back at the right moments.

"However much reality has turned into a fantasy game, they never implemented friendly-fire protection, did they? Tanks getting singed by their own allies' spells happens all the time."

So what quality must a tank possess?

Simply this: to memorize every ally's skills and attack patterns, like a raid leader in an RPG.

"That's also why, when skill levels are roughly even, the tank usually ends up as party leader."

Choi Jeong-hyeon would have to fill that role someday. For now, Lee Jun would be the one orchestrating the battlefield — but eventually, she too would move on to somewhere better.

And when that day came... she might just have become a class that everyone was searching for.

He couldn't tell her about the Talent Stone results yet. There had never been a case like hers, and even Lee Jun didn't know what the outcome would be.

And in his previous life... a hunter of the paladin class had been nowhere to be found. Not a single one.

"......"

Of course, that didn't necessarily mean anything bad had happened to them. Another class that wielded holy power might exist, or the Talent Stone might simply have glitched for a moment.

So for now, he'd said nothing that might raise her hopes unnecessarily. He was simply teaching her, slowly and steadily, the things she would need.

"I'm going to give you everything I can, Jeong-hyeon. I'll teach you everything a hunter needs to know, and if there's equipment out there that can be obtained, I'll get it for you."

And with that, he would make her the very pinnacle of what a hunter could be.

And if it didn't work out?

Well... he wasn't planning on entertaining that possibility. He'd worry about it if it came.

For now... he'd think only of success.

When he finished speaking, Choi Jeong-hyeon stared at him, unblinking. When he met her gaze, she bowed her head deeply.

"What's the matter?"

"...I'm just grateful."

Choi Jeong-hyeon said it with a fidgety, awkward sort of hesitation — in a voice so small it seemed she might vanish somewhere, shrunk into herself.

"The truth is... I don't know how to say this, but I'm not even C-Class. I'm a D-rank hunter. You've done so much for me, Boss, and I'm so thankful, but it also feels... like I don't deserve it..."

Why go this far for her?

Honestly, he'd never given it much thought. There were no complicated reasons to begin with.

Seo Yoon? Fate had brought her to him. A lucky encounter — she'd reached out first, and so he'd taken her in.

Choi Jeong-hyeon? He'd found her collapsed, in critical condition, and saved her. He had no idea how she'd ended up in the Ant Nest, but he'd met her there all the same. Whether or not it echoed the past... in the end, his heart had moved. You could call that fate too, he supposed.

That was why he'd brought her in.

That was the extent of his reasons for taking her on.

Then what was the reason for raising her this far?

That one was simple. Exactly one reason.

"You joined my management."

Joining had been her choice — but leaving would not be so free. He would make certain she became the best before she walked out that door.

And so, in Lee Jun's management, the only mediocrity would be Lee Jun himself.

Watching Seo Yoon's movements sharpen noticeably with each passing stage, Lee Jun nodded, satisfied.