Chapter 16
Chapter 16
『Skill: Magic Stone Braising has leveled up to (Level 4).』
『Strength Rank increased from E+ to D-』
『Skill: Corpse Fusion (Level 1) has been acquired.』
Joo Do-gyeom blinked at the system messages.
Magic Stone Braising.
One of the Universal Chef's profession skills, this ability allowed him to melt magic stones into a braising sauce, which could then be used to enhance his magic power.
But this time, it wasn't magic that had increased—it was his strength.
And not just a minor boost, but a rank-up.
Not common, but not unheard of either.
When the skill's efficiency surpassed the knowledge embedded in his mind.
To be precise, it was as if the skill's full potential had been partially hidden.
Even his signature ability from his past life, Heaven and Earth Boundless Divine Art, had been like that.
If he had to put it into words, this was what one might call a hidden piece.
Once discovered, new knowledge flowed into his mind.
'Some magic stones can drastically increase stats other than magic power.'
And that wasn't all.
He had gained another skill.
Honestly, this was what truly surprised him.
Corpse Fusion—the effect was exactly as the name implied.
'Gather nearby corpses and fuse them into a reborn undead.'
In simple terms, it was summoning.
But of the necromancy variety, requiring corpses as sacrifices.
From Do-gyeom's perspective, this was as unexpected as suddenly becoming a Universal Chef.
Still, he didn't waste time worrying about whether he could use it.
Skills were always good to have.
Even if he didn't use it now, it would surely come in handy somewhere.
At Level 1, Corpse Fusion created an undead with the strength and size of an average zombie.
Naturally, as the skill leveled up, both its size and power would increase.
Doing a rough calculation based on the knowledge in his head—
'Level 5.'
At that point, he could create something similar to the Corpse Giant he had seen in the Zombie Burst Dungeon.
'Though without enough corpses nearby, its regeneration would be lacking.'
But so what?
This was only Level 5.
The higher the level, the more terrifying the creations he could make.
As he thought that far, an involuntary chuckle escaped his lips.
"Hah..."
Kim Han-yul had told him to take responsibility if he died.
He had even briefly considered learning necromancy because of her words—and now, even if it wasn't exactly necromancy, he had acquired a similar skill.
Suddenly, he grew curious.
What would Kim Han-yul's reaction be if he used this skill in the next dungeon they entered?
'That should be pretty entertaining.'
The smile on his lips deepened.
A week wasn't a long time, but it wasn't short either.
Do-gyeom made good use of the remaining days.
Personal training, managing leveraged investments, and checking his assets.
Oh, and he had already withdrawn all the money he had put into Jindo Coin.
'It's going to drop again soon.'
Then why not short it?
One might think that, but even that wouldn't be very profitable.
Because it would only decline slowly over a very long time.
With many other things to do, Do-gyeom couldn't afford to micromanage everything.
So his asset management strategy was simple:
'Use future knowledge to secure profits up to a certain point, then exit without hesitation.'
Honestly, that alone was more than enough.
In fact, the money he had made from this Jindo Coin investment was already staggering.
Starting capital: about 950 million won.
Now?
After cashing out everything out of curiosity—
'123 billion won.'
A tenfold return in one go.
For an average person, this was life-changing money.
But from Do-gyeom's perspective?
'Still not enough.'
There were a few magical artifacts he needed to acquire in this life—not just wanted.
And some of them already had owners but could still be purchased.
If he had to name the first one he wanted—
'Of course, the Formless Armament.'
Formless Armament: Myriad Forms.
A weapon Do-gyeom had obtained in his past life, near the end of his time as the Martial God.
True to its name, it had no fixed form.
The weapon itself was engraved onto the user's soul like a brand.
But if desired, it could take the shape of any weapon—sword, spear, blade, axe, bow, hammer—without restriction.
Hence its name, Myriad Forms (Ten Thousand Forms).
For someone like Do-gyeom, who had mastered and utilized countless martial arts, there was no better weapon.
'Right now, it should be on display at the French Museum of Magical Artifacts.'
Still in its default form.
Still without an owner.
Being a museum piece, acquiring it wouldn't be easy—but surprisingly, it would soon be sold.
An incompetent museum appraiser would deem Myriad Forms 'lacking in preservation value' and send it off to an American auction house.
'Even then, it sold for over 50 billion won.'
The reason was simple.
In its current state, before revealing its true nature, Myriad Forms took the form of a sword.
And this sword was exquisitely beautiful.
Even if the appraiser saw nothing special in it, its appearance alone made people wonder if there was more to it.
No—even if it truly was worthless, some would pay just to admire its craftsmanship.
'That auction... is three months from now.'
Could he grow his current assets to over 50 billion by then?
For now, there were no stocks or coins that would yield massive returns.
A few minor opportunities came to mind, but—
'Those require constant, real-time monitoring after they emerge from dungeons.'
Too inefficient.
Do-gyeom wasn't at a point where he could afford to waste time like that.
He needed to grow stronger.
He needed to push forward.
To prepare for the apocalypse, he had no choice.
'Damn, should I just hire a competent asset manager?'
If he dug through the memories Vivien had engraved in him, maybe he could find someone suitable?
He tried to recall, but nothing came to mind immediately.
And if even after realizing the need, he still couldn't remember—that likely meant no such memory existed.
'This knowledge is based on my own past experiences, after all.'
Back then, why would he have ever needed to worry about managing assets?
"Tch."
Unconsciously, his mouth soured.
If he missed the auction in three months, obtaining the Formless Armament Myriad Forms would become much harder.
He'd have to wait years at the very least.
Just as his frustration deepened—
While browsing images of Myriad Forms displayed at the French museum on his phone, a news headline at the top of the portal site caught Do-gyeom's eye.
[Taeseong Group Chairman Lee Young-sik: Currently Doing Everything Possible to Cure His Daughter...]
Simultaneously, a lightbulb went off in Do-gyeom's head.
'Ah, right—this was around now!'
The daughter of Lee Young-sik, chairman of Korea's premier conglomerate, Taeseong Group, had fallen ill.
A unique disease caused by the emergence of dungeons—Mana Sickness.
Those afflicted fell into comas.
A backlash from mana suddenly flooding unprepared bodies.
The cure was simple.
Enter a dungeon and become a Hunter.
The body would then naturally adapt, accepting the mana, awakening a profession, and allowing the person to wake from their coma.
There was just one problem.
'Comatose patients can't declare their intent to enter a dungeon.'
So they couldn't wake up.
In this era, it was considered an incurable disease.
But in the future, that changed.
A special item—
'Adam's Apple.'
Using it, one could awaken without entering a dungeon.
Other than that, it had no effects—a rather plain item.
But even by future standards, demand for it was surprisingly high.
As mentioned before, many people wanted to become Hunters while minimizing risk.
By future standards, Adam's Apple was worth about 100 million won.
Since dungeons were places anyone could enter if they knew the name, monopolizing them was impossible.
Thus, as more Hunters sought the item, its price stabilized at that level.
But right now?
'Aside from me, no one knows which dungeon Adam's Apple comes from.'
Do-gyeom's exclusive information.
Its value wasn't just tens of billions—it was priceless.
A smile rose to Do-gyeom's lips.
'This is perfect.'
There was still time before the week Kim Han-yul had mentioned was up.
And this was the ideal side job to tackle in the meantime.
There was just one problem.
Would the chairman of Korea's top conglomerate even agree to meet someone like him—a nobody at present?
'No, that won't be an issue.'
Chairman Lee Young-sik's love for his daughter was legendary.
Even the expression in the news article made his desperation clear.
He was in a state where he'd grasp at any straw.
In this situation, Do-gyeom—who held the answer—chose the direct approach.
After all, what did he have to lose?
Lee Young-sik, chairman of Taeseong Group, gazed at his emaciated daughter lying on the hospital bed with a heavy expression.
Not an exaggeration—she was the apple of his eye.
After his beloved wife died in a car accident, his daughter had become his only remaining blood relative.
He had brothers and sisters, but how could they compare to his own flesh and blood?
And now, she had been bedridden for two years.
Though the public had only learned of it months ago, watching his daughter lie motionless for so long had eroded his heart to the point of crumbling.
Naturally, he had tried everything.
Hiring renowned healers, exorcists, even assembling multiple Hunter teams to explore dungeons for potential cures.
All had failed.
No method had succeeded in opening his daughter's eyes.
As time passed, even con artists began flocking to him—flies drawn by the scent of money.
Greed-blind parasites.
And those who trampled on his daughter's suffering and his own desperation.
Their fates, of course, had not been pleasant.
Lee Young-sik was a self-made man who had risen from the third son to the chairman's seat.
He loved his daughter more than anything, but his ruthlessness made human life seem trivial.
Those who crossed the line were torn limb from limb.
By his own order.
Unsurprisingly, the number of flies dwindled.
But the downside was that the number of those genuinely trying to cure his daughter also plummeted.
The Hunter team he had maintained for years was still active, but with no guarantee of finding an answer—
Still, he couldn't give up hope.
He wouldn't give up.
'No matter what...'
He would restore his daughter to her former self.
Just as Young-sik clasped his daughter's frail hands between his own, resolve burning in his eyes—
"Chairman. There's something to report."
His secretary, Kang Tae-woo, knocked softly on the door.
"Come in."
The door opened, and Tae-woo bowed before speaking.
"We've received contact from a man claiming to have information on a cure for Mana Sickness."
"How credible is he?"
"Not very. He claims this could lead to a major business opportunity, but our investigation shows he's a rookie Hunter with less than a few months of experience."
"I see."
Young-sik nodded, then stood.
"Let's meet him."
Because Do-gyeom's prediction had been correct.
Even if it was a suspicious straw, Young-sik was desperate enough to grasp at it.
Even if it was a scam, it didn't matter.
'If he tries to deceive us...'
He'd just end up like the other flies—in pieces.
As Young-sik's gaze left his daughter, his eyes were filled with nothing but coldness.
Lee Young-sik, chairman of Korea's foremost conglomerate.
Meeting such a man had been easier than expected.
Now, Do-gyeom sat across from him.
Young-sik, his eyes icy, spoke first.
"Joo Do-gyeom, was it? A word of warning. If you're here to play some half-baked prank, get up and leave now. That's the last mercy I'll show you."
A voice laced with killing intent.
Sensing the man's emotions, Do-gyeom replied calmly.
"No need to worry. My information won't be wrong."
"And if it is?"
"Take my life, if you're confident you can."
Not a single tremor in his voice.
Not just his tone—even his dark eyes were eerily composed.
'He speaks of his own death so casually.'
Young-sik's eyebrow twitched involuntarily before he smirked, a somewhat savage expression.
Then, he nodded.
"Let's hear it."
At the very least, this wasn't some amateur.
That much was clear.