The NPC's Flower is the Blacksmith 1
While I was buried in the dungeon books, time flew by faster than expected. What I had aimed for in four months wrapped up in just two and a half thanks to the mana I gained from reading them, leaving me with fewer than fifty volumes remaining. That meant today was my last trip to the World Hunter Association.
Over those two and a half months, I'd shown unbelievable growth by mastering the secret techniques in the dungeon books. My stats had risen to the point where I wondered if they were really mine. In total, I'd acquired twelve secret techniques and two skills. Every stat had increased, but my mana was terrifyingly high.
I'd gained 400 in strength, 200 in stamina, 100 in intellect, and a whopping 800 in mana. On top of that, my mana recovery speed jumped by 30%, cutting recovery time down to one hour and twenty-four minutes.
Just looking at the stats, I had grown to a level where I didn't feel inferior to top-tier hunters at all.
The second skill from the mana mine was Mana Fog.
Mana Fog
Transforms mana into fog and spreads it. The fog disrupts all five senses of those affected, but the user is immune.
I hadn't tested the mana mine yet, but Mana Fog proved more effective than expected. Even Choi Taesu had to unleash his powerful lightning magic to dispel it—and even then, I could just cast it again, which he called an annoying skill. If it frustrated him, that was high praise.
That said, separate from my growing strength, there was zero new info on the dungeons themselves. I'd read over a thousand books, but none mentioned dungeons disappearing. Not even in records spanning fifty years from another world.
At this point, I started wondering if the part in the lord's diary had been mistranslated or if the lord had just fat-fingered a word while writing.
'Damn that lord. Couldn't even leave behind proper secret techniques or a decent diary.'
Thanks to that diary, I'd gained the translation skill and from there stats and more skills—but it still felt as unresolved as taking a dump without wiping.
'In the end, nothing.'
I'd just finished the last diary, but no mention of dungeons. It had only appeared once, in the very first lord's diary, and nowhere else in any other dungeon book.
'No point saying anything like this.'
With no clear proof, telling others would be meaningless. Dungeons might disappear—or they might not. Even a three-year-old could say that much.
To avoid needless chaos, it was best kept as my secret for now.
'I'll hint at it to the Bureau Chief, though.'
After bidding farewell to the Dungeon Studies Research Institute for the last time and leaving the World Hunter Association, Choi Taesu was waiting.
"This really the end?"
"Yeah. Flying back to Korea tomorrow."
"Good. Let's hurry. My stomach's killing me. I need some spicy kimchi jjigae with fresh white rice."
"Me too."
Stuck eating greasy food in Switzerland, I was dying for something spicy. Choi Hyunsik had airlifted kimchi via the local Korean community, but it just wasn't the same—wrong ingredients or something. So Choi Taesu and I swallowed hard, chatting about it.
As we left the Association toward the lodging, something caught my eye. People always in the same spot, handing out pamphlets and collecting signatures. I'd ignored them before, too focused on the books, but with no more visits planned, I headed over to satisfy my curiosity.
"Hello. Did you know there are hunters left out in the cold? Just one signature to help them, please. They've shed blood and sweat for humanity's benefit, but we've turned a blind eye when they needed us. One signature to repay a fraction of that grace."
Overheard on the way to their stand. Sounded just like those street solicitors before hunters, yelling about "helping poor kids" and slapping on a sticker.
Except kids were actually pitiful back then. Here, it was hunters.
'Marginalized hunters? What?'
Didn't make sense to me. Awakening as a hunter was like winning the lottery—social ascension. And non-hunters worrying about marginalized ones? Like celebrities fretting over the world's problems.
I almost turned back to the lodging, but since I'd come this far, I figured I'd hear them out.
"Welcome. One signature for the marginalized hunters, please."
Pure curiosity drove me to ask, "What do you mean by 'marginalized hunters'?"
"Do you know hunters pay 70% of their income in taxes and fees? Or that hunter gear incurs an extra 10% VAT on trades? Or that mana stones sell for less than 20% of their actual energy value to consumers?"
Taxes hadn't mattered to me until recently. Forming the raid team made me realize other hunters paid huge sums. And I couldn't sell mana stones without entering dungeons anyway.
Still, even with taxes, hunters earned way more than civilians. So... no real sympathy.
"Sure, but hunters still rake in big money, right?"
"Of course, top earners do. But they're just the top 20-30%. The rest don't make that much more than civilians—and it's not chump change."
"Yeah?"
"The problem hits when they die or get crippled. Tons of hunters die or suffer life-ruining injuries. But there's no system to care for them. Can't even get insurance as a hunter. If they saved big during their prime, fine—but building savings before top-tier is tough. And governments just take taxes without any compensation."
She was clearly a civilian. But her fiery eyes made it seem like she was the injured hunter herself.
I hadn't empathized at first, but then Kang Jeonghun came to mind. Without me, he'd still be guarding the herb warehouse.
Maybe because of that, I let them guide me to sign and took a pamphlet.
Back at the lodging, then Korea the next day.
Korea outbound had been quiet, but inbound was quieter. Post-Dungeon Studies raid, with threats of surviving hunters attacking or tracking, our return was a covert op straight out of a spy flick—cargo plane all the way.
"Nanny duty's over."
"Thanks for everything."
Even his gruff tone, I was genuinely grateful. Without Choi Taesu, that crazy woman would've finished me.
"Enough mush. When's the magic pattern engraving?"
"Come tomorrow, I'll do it."
"See you then."
Two and a half months together—his gruffness felt a bit tsundere now.
After parting, the prepared car took me to the Hunter Management Bureau. Seeing the guild building—our workshop—calmed me at last.
'Yeah, outside is dangerous.'
Entering the first-floor potion workshop, Taeju and Taehee welcomed me, making it feel like home for real.
"Suho! When'd you get back? Huh? Empty-handed? No souvenirs? Ah, you got our sizes. Couldn't carry much, right?"
Taeju circled me excitedly, hunting for gifts. Predictably, Taehee shut him down.
"You a kid? Gifts first thing?"
Her voice from behind his head sealed the homecoming vibe.
"Already?"
"Yes. Feels like we'll clear the SS-rank dungeon this time. First in Korea."
Bang Taegeuk's voice trembled faintly. Globally, not a big deal, but nationally? Historic. He was already misty-eyed.
'Impressive. Fifth try and victory's in sight.'
I was shocked too. Even with Korea's best, mismatched teamwork meant we weren't powerhouse compared to other top guilds' raids.
Only one reason for success—and Bang Taegeuk, knowing it best, thanked me.
"Thank you. All thanks to you, Guild Leader. Got to lead Korea's first SS-rank clear."
Embarrassed, I changed topics. "Teamwork solid? No disruptors?"
"None. Minor strategy debates over monsters, but no team-killers."
We chatted raid details. As it wrapped, he mentioned Heo Jinhyuk.
"Heo Jinhyuk from Cheonmang Guild's been missing over two months. Vanished without a word—guild imploded."
Per him, chaos ensued: executive clashes in leadership vote, rigging rumors. Guild splintered into three; Big Five became Big Four. Crucially, raid members quit, now independents.
"They asked about joining Support Guild."
"Yeah. Hint it to them. Post-SS clear, we'd restructure anyway—no issue spilling early."
We'd planned guild shift after SS anyway. No harm.
Time passed; raid entered dungeon. Then a call from Hespera. Occasional check-ins, so I picked up casually.
"Mr. Kim Suho, I hope you're well?"
"Yes, doing great. You too, Ms. Hespera?"
After pleasantries, her main point floored me.
"First, thank you, Mr. Kim Suho. Thanks to you, we could start tackling the SSS-rank dungeon."
They'd started an SSS-rank? Really replicated my leather armor? Was that even possible?
To be continued in the next chapter...
The Hunter Who Awakened as an NPC