Dungeon Book Scramble 2
“W-what the hell?!”
I yelped in shock, drawing stares from the researchers around me. I quickly bowed my head toward them. It had been a pretty loud outburst, but everyone was too absorbed in their own work to pay much attention.
Once the eyes drifted away, I immediately pulled up my status window.
My mana had really gone up, and there was even a recovery speed boost listed next to it. The mana stat increase was surprising enough, but seeing my mana recovery speed—which I'd thought was utterly unchangeable—actually improve hit me like a truck.
But that wasn't even the main shock. I'd sworn I'd never be surprised again no matter what happened, yet something had shattered that resolve completely. The real kicker was...
Not a single line made sense, and it says I acquired it? Even for me, this is too much.
The word "acquired." What the hell had I even done to acquire anything? It made me wonder if I'd misunderstood the term all along.
Stats had gone up before through various methods, but nothing this ridiculous. Processing herbs, leatherworking, magic pattern engraving—they were in a whole different league from this reward.
Yeah, it's absurd, but so what? The NPC system says I acquired it—what does my opinion matter? What counts is that I've found a way to raise my stats.
Was I getting used to this too? The surprise faded quickly, and my focus shifted back to the Dungeon Book. I'd come to the Dungeon Studies Research Institute to learn about dungeons, but now I was hooked on something else entirely. Hell, I was more interested in the offering rice than the actual sacrifice at this point.
That made the number of books—once a relief—feel woefully inadequate now.
Fifteen hundred? That's nothing. It should be fifteen thousand at least.
I headed back to the shelves and pulled out the next volume's diary, diving right in.
The 3% mana recovery speed boost equated to 216 seconds shaved off full mana regeneration on a two-hour cycle. Just three minutes and thirty-six seconds—barely noticeable at my current mana of 797, where per-second recovery differences were negligible anyway.
But as my mana pool grew, that gap would widen dramatically. And more importantly, I still had over a hundred thousand volumes left.
It's only day two. No need to get antsy yet.
Ever since discovering the mana cultivation method yesterday, I'd gotten hopeful whenever the diary protagonists' situations soured—maybe they'd leave behind a secret technique? No such luck, though. No secret arts, no new dungeon intel.
Eleven books today, zero gains.
It's not just today. Tomorrow better cough up a dungeon tip or a secret art at least.
Time to head home. I'd already texted Choi Taesu before finishing the last book, so he should be arriving any minute. Not enough time for another volume, I scanned the lab instead.
Fifty or so researchers still at it, poring over Dungeon Books.
If word got out that I could read Dungeon Books, this place would lose its mind too, huh?
I was chuckling at the thought when the elevator doors slid open. Without thinking, I glanced over—and a group of people stepped out.
“Freeze!”
And just like that, my peaceful routine shattered.
“Everyone ready? Let's move.”
The White Witch glanced back before striding toward the Dungeon Studies Research Institute, a group trailing her.
As they pushed through the doors, the guard greeted her. “Professor Choi Kyunghee, not heading home yet?”
The moment the guard recognized the White Witch's disguised face, a hunter from her group lunged, swiftly subduing him. Another slid into the computer chair.
“CCTV feeds swapped. External signals blocked. Security system seized. All tasks complete.”
“Good. Hold the entrance tight. Let's go!”
They shoved the fallen guard aside, leaving four to guard the door as the rest, including the White Witch, piled into the elevator.
It descended straight to the lab. Doors opened, and she bellowed at the remaining researchers:
“Freeze!”
What the hell are these guys?
One look and it was obvious they weren't here with good intentions. All masked, barking orders to freeze the second they stepped out—yeah, no chance they were friendly.
The leader even conjured a small fireball in his hand as a warning, hurling it at an empty spot. White flames erupted.
Whoosh.
The fireball didn't burn—it melted desks and furniture in seconds. I jolted.
Melting, not burning? And what's with that mana from the fireball?
It was mana I'd never sensed before. These weren't ordinary people.
Where did these bastards come from all of a sudden?
It made no sense. This wasn't some treasure vault—just a pile of Dungeon Books, and even those had yielded zero breakthroughs despite endless study.
Why would top-tier hunters crash a place like this for them? It defied logic.
But my pondering didn't last. The warning-fireball guy shouted something, and the researchers started shuffling to one side—probably an order to gather up. No choice but to comply.
This wasn't my NPC Hideout, after all. The NPC protections were tied to the hideout itself; outside, I was just a regular hunter. And without my leather armor—stripped off to pass the mana detection spell at the entrance—I was even more vulnerable.
At least my NPC all-purpose tool somehow evaded the detection spell, so I still had that. But it wasn't much comfort. Not even close.
So I kept quiet and followed orders. But things were getting weird. The researchers were snapping back at the masked intruders, who drew weapons, looking ready to throw down.
From their mana signatures, these masks were high-caliber hunters. Sure, some researchers were awakened hunters, and there were a couple managing security, but they couldn't match this level.
Yet the researchers wouldn't back down. Spotting Park Seongyeol in the corner, I sidled over. “What's the deal here?”
“Gah! Taehoon-ssi.”
He startled at my voice from behind but relaxed once he recognized me, sighing in relief before translating.
“They say if we stay put while they grab the Dungeon Books and leave, they won't touch us. But the researchers are pushing back.”
“What? These psychos think they can just—who gave them permission?!”
Hearing they were after the Dungeon Books hit like a bomb. A few days ago, they were just books from another world. But after the mana cultivation method boosted my stats, everything changed. This was for me—for NPCs.
Now they were targeting my Dungeon Books? Rage boiled over.
They really came for the Dungeon Books? Why? You can't even read them—what the hell? Unless...?
As I puzzled over their motive, a chilling thought struck: what if I was making a huge mistake?
What if other hunters had a translation skill too? Or could read Dungeon Books somehow?
They could just walk in like anyone else.
Getting in wasn't easy, but it wasn't impossible either. I'd gone through Lee Musin to hide my identity, sure. But who would hire these guys for unread books?
Hire? Maybe not just a hire. With their power levels, money alone wouldn't cut it. No way pros like these would piss off the World Hunter Association for pocket change.
Why target Dungeon Books? Who the fuck are you people?
My head was spinning, frustration mounting, when others beat me to the explosion.
“Go!”
A single word, and a few researchers—security hunters and awakened ones—charged the masks.
Brave, but brutal results. The researcher-hunters were swatted like flies. The two security pros held their own briefly, but backups swarmed in, finishing them quick.
Getting into the Dungeon Studies Research Institute was bureaucratic, not impossible. With Dungeon Books public knowledge, no one expected raiders. Why risk the Hunter Association's wrath?
Security was lax as a result—and now it showed.
The sudden resistance shifted the masks' vibe. Murderous intent flooded out, choking the room. Most researchers were civilians; even casual killing aura dropped them unconscious.
The leader spoke. “We said stay quiet and leave unharmed. You didn't listen. This is a lesson. Try that stunt again, and no mercy.”
Park Seongyeol's live translation confirmed the warning.
Slash.
Slash.
The two security hunters' heads rolled free from their bodies.
How many had seen a beheading live? The mostly civilian researchers froze solid. Even the hunters—green ones prioritizing research over raids—were shaken by the gore.
With silence secured, the looters sped up, stuffing Dungeon Books into bags faster than ever. My insides burned hotter with every vanishing tome.
Damn it! What am I supposed to do?
They'd be gone soon at this rate.
No. I have to stop them. But how?
As I agonized, the looters finished packing and turned to leave. The one with the spatial expansion bag passed in front of me—and my body moved before my brain caught up.
Strength enhancement potion, speed boost potion, Haste activated—I swung my mana blade at the bag.
Caught off guard, he twisted away, but the blade's edge sliced the bag clean.
Boom.
A massive bang as the spatial magic ruptured, spewing Dungeon Books everywhere.
“Yes!”
Short cheer—I'd done it. I'd scoped them earlier: only one spatial bag. Wreck it, buy time. Opportunity struck; I seized it.
But fixated on the books, I'd forgotten something crucial.
“Shit.”
The bag guy unleashed terrifying killing intent at me. The others closed in, auras ominous.
I'm an idiot. Fuck. Stats aren't worth this.
Normal me would've stayed put. But something possessed me—body first, brain second. Now I was in deep.
Spilled milk. No backing out now.
Damn it. Where's that bastard?
Choi Taesu was my only hope. If I missed pickup, he'd come looking. I just had to hold out.
I gauged their positions carefully, dropping into a defensive stance—not to fight, but to dodge. Upper healing potions queued up too.
[Yes, No.]
All senses locked on the masks—then a familiar voice rang from behind them.
“Kim Taehoon-ssi!”
“Hm. Three minutes past quitting time, and no sign.”
Choi Taesu's brow furrowed outside the institute, waiting for Kim Suho.
A week in, and Suho had never missed pickup. Whatever he did at the dorms, he clocked out on time every day. Today was no different—he'd confirmed end time and arrived at the entrance.
But no Suho.
A bit more wait, still nothing. Exactly three minutes late, Taesu marched in.
“How'd you get here?”
He ignored the guard's question. “New faces. All four hunters? Who the hell are you?”
Not really asking. The guards flinched—and Taesu's strike landed.
Crackle.
Chain lightning arced from him, zapping all four into unconscious heaps.
“Shit, something's up for real.”
Casual tone, but his face hardened, killing intent surging with crackling thunder.
Taesu bolted for the elevator.
Bang.
No button—he smashed the doors and leaped down the shaft without hesitation.
To be continued in the next chapter...
The Hunter Who Awakened as an NPC