Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Poison Breath (3)
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6장. Poison Breath (3)
7.
100-Person Gate.
For adventurers at 2nd Circle or below, it was a stage of glory they could carry with them for life, simply for having adventured there.
A stage that any adventurer ought to challenge.
A stage where, if given the chance, one shouldn't refuse but rather acclaim it.
That was why.
“It might be a bit tough there.”
Evis wore an utterly shocked expression at El Pam's immediate refusal of the opportunity.
‘Is he insane? Turning this down?’
Rakan, on the other hand, was different.
With coldly sunken eyes, he said.
“Are you refusing the offer?”
That gaze was a threat.
Daring to refuse an offer from him, an executive of the Gapor Merchant Group? I'll kill you— that's what it meant.
And it was a threat with plenty of weight.
Rakan wasn't just any famous merchant group executive.
He was a figure akin to a hero of reversal, having grown the Gapor Merchant Group rapidly alongside it, and his fame had spread not only across Victoria Island, where the port city of Lith Harbor lay, but even somewhat to the vast Oresia Continent.
Of course, not in a good way.
In the Gapor Merchant Group's ruthlessly brutal advances, Rakan was the one handling the brutality.
Meaning he could deal with an adventurer of El Pam's caliber however he pleased—and he had done so before.
Yet El Pam's eyes didn't waver.
Truthfully, there was no reason for him to back down.
From El Pam's perspective, Rakan was laughably insignificant anyway.
“I learned one thing while living three years as bait slave.”
Above all, El Pam knew.
“Adventurers die when their greed gets the better of them. And once dead, nothing matters.”
Exactly what answer Rakan wanted right now.
It was literal.
‘He's testing me right now.’
Rakan was deliberately pressuring El Pam at this moment.
To see if El Pam was truly a card capable of entering the 100-Person Gate and beyond.
And it was right to test him that way.
Rakan's interest in El Pam wasn't in his combat prowess, but his survival skills.
The problem was that survival skills were an utterly vague ability.
To gauge such a nebulous skill, one had to see how he reacted under pressure.
“The same went for this time. Volunteering as bait in that moment was the wise choice. Recruiting a party to be bait right then? No sane decision would come from that. They were veteran adventurers who'd been rivals just moments ago. Even if a bait party formed, it's a problem. Veterans each have their own synergy. Mixing them creates no positive effect—just penalties.”
So El Pam gladly showed it.
“Rather than forcing a reckless group together for something so foolhardy, it was better for just me and my companion to step up. That was enough.”
That his survival wasn't mere luck.
“But a 100-Person Mystic Gate changes everything. The Mystic Gate's difficulty itself, and every situation is different. Coming back alive like this time would be tough.”
At El Pam's response, Rakan's eyes shifted.
“Tough, huh... Not impossible.”
He soon smiled.
“Then let's change the topic.”
With a satisfied smile, he said.
“How much do you want to go in?”
8.
“Pfft!”
Hearing El Pam's words, Dibo spat out the beer he'd been drinking right onto the table.
The moment the lavish feast—prepared to celebrate their survival—turned into a mess, money flying away. For Dibo, who risked his life for a single meso, it was a shocking moment.
But Dibo wasn't shocked.
“F-Five million meso?”
El Pam's answer was utterly mad.
“No way, he really offered five million meso?
Five million meso—an amount ordinary folk, let alone most adventurers, couldn't even dream of.
“To Rakan?”
El Pam had demanded that sum from no one other than Gapor Merchant Group executive Rakan.
In exchange for surviving the 100-Person Mystic Gate.
“Boss, have you lost it? Rakan! The Rakan with no blood, no tears!”
A truly insane move.
“That's exactly why I could demand it from Rakan. He's the only one in the Gapor Merchant Group who could approve that amount.”
Of course, from El Pam's view, it was the most rational judgment.
“Asking for anything but money would be ridiculous. And for our lives, five million meso is the bare minimum.”
But El Pam's common sense couldn't be shared with others.
So Dibo asked no more questions.
Instead, he neatly rationalized the situation.
“Well, it's a place where you could die if things go wrong. Better to refuse like that than outright.”
Essentially refusing Rakan's offer—the chance to enter the 100-Person Gate—so no need to dwell on it.
“I didn't refuse.”
“That's as good as refusing. The 100-Person Gate is swarming with veteran adventurers dying to pay to get in, right? Who shells out five million meso to shove an adventurer in there?”
To Dibo's thinking, El Pam replied.
“There is one.”
“Huh?”
“We made the deal. Five million meso. With Rakan.”
9.
Even so, the reason Evis's expression hardened was one.
“...That's enough meso to hire even standout veterans. Not to invest in rookies like these.”
That the trigger for this massive contract was none other than Evis himself.
And rightly so—El Pam had been elevated to this point by none other than Evis.
‘If there's trouble, it's on me.’
If something huge went wrong because of this, Evis couldn't escape responsibility.
His face had every reason to stiffen, and then Rakan spoke.
“Evis.”
Cautiously, in a quiet voice.
Evis understood the meaning.
‘Top secret.’
He quickly stood and approached Rakan's side.
Then Rakan whispered very softly.
“Word came in. Someone's planning deliberate trolling in the 100-Person Mystic Gate we're raiding this time.”
Trolling.
At the word, Evis's face hardened.
Trolling—a term from monster trolls playing nasty pranks on people—meant, in the adventurer world, acts that sabotaged adventures.
And in the Mystic Gate era, trolling took on a gravely serious meaning.
Naturally.
Disrupting an adventure was mere interference, but sabotaging a Mystic Gate raid meant thoroughly intending to kill the target.
Especially inside a 100-Person Mystic Gate?
In a place gathering each merchant group's top prospects, if adventurers died to trolling?
It would be a devastating blow—a terrorist act.
‘More than possible.’
That's why it mattered.
Lith Harbor's top ten merchant groups were in fierce competition, itching to inflict fatal wounds on rivals if they could.
Of course, mere possibility meant nothing.
“How reliable is the source?”
It needed solid grounds to act.
“Dark Lord Jin.”
At the source revealed, Evis raised no further doubts.
No, he couldn't.
“The Thief Guild Master?”
Information from a figure like that was more trustworthy than even Rakan.
So Evis's expression hardened.
If it's to this level, someone's truly plotting. Doesn't that make it a death trap?
“Oh.”
Only then did Evis realize.
“Then?”
“Something's going down. Maybe a disaster where everyone dies. If El Pam gets caught up and dies in it, that's that. But if he comes back alive, he becomes a witness.”
Why Rakan rated El Pam's survival skills so highly.
No more explanation needed in that moment.
With all reasons laid out, there was only one thing to do.
“Recruit members. At an appropriate level. We're not pushing hard on this 100-Person Mystic Gate raid.”
“Yes.”
10.
“R-Really...”
Taking the contract, Dibo looked at El Pam.
His eyes trembled.
“B-Boss, we're really going into the 100-Person Gate?”
Having become an adventurer and raided just one Mystic Gate.
Suddenly tackling a 100-Person Mystic Gate from there?
Before meeting El Pam, it was beyond imagination—pure delusion.
At the same time, dangerous.
Dibo had some Mystic Gate raid experience, mostly as a slave.
As an adventurer, just that one time, as mentioned.
And now straight into the 100-Person Gate?
Like taking a toddler just learning to walk into marathon prep.
For most, trembling would be natural.
Dibo was no different.
“Boss, can I be honest? This feels way too dangerous.”
The chance was so amazing it tempted him, but now that it was here, his eyes wavered at the sight.
El Pam understood.
‘He should waver. A good adventurer would.’
And El Pam knew this anxiety was a key trait of becoming a great adventurer.
It was always so.
Courage was essential for adventurers, but many died from that courage.
Especially those ignoring fear were the most dangerous.
Those who couldn't admit fear due to pride or face—they died.
To survive, you had to be able to say it.
“I don't wanna die?”
Those words.
“Me neither.”
El Pam felt the same.
He became the Last Adventurer not for grand feats or historic duty.
He didn't want to die.
He wanted to pierce the blizzard of despair crashing down with his comrades. To live and turn that day's desperation into drinking stories.
It had merely remained a wish.
Of course, now was different.
El Pam was confident.
“No dying on our watch.”
The 100-Person Mystic Gate, the nightmare abyss that swallowed all—but El Pam was sure he could conquer it.
But explaining every reason to Dibo from one to ten? Impossible.
Nor necessary.
Dibo was already a fine adventurer. At the level El Pam saw, at least able to stand before Hontail.
“You can't get the five million meso if we die.”
“No, Boss, that's not what I... Wait a sec.”
What he needed was confidence. Something to make his heart race.
“Boss? No way—five million meso per person? Not five million split between us?”
El Pam gave it to him.
“My god, really five million meso? No splitting? All mine?”
In that instant, no more trembling in Dibo's pupils.
“Hell yeah, let's do it! With you, Boss, what can't we do?”
Euphoria filled the void.
“So, Boss, where do we go?”
To the fired-up Dibo, El Pam gladly replied.
“Sleepywood.”
“Huh? Sleepywood? Did I hear wrong? You said Sleepywood?”
“The one you know. Devil's Forest. The 100-Person Mystic Gate appeared there.”
“W-Wait. We're really going there? Not just us two, right? Everyone together?”
“Can't train if we all go together.”
“Huh? What? Train?”
“You said you don't wanna die? Then we train.”
The surest way not to die.