Forced Reflections
“Hic...!”
Executive Director Ju was still fuming, snorting hot breaths through his nose. The desk, made of high-end dark reddish-brown solid wood that screamed luxury even at a glance, now bore deep gouges. It was a feat of strength no ordinary balding sixty-year-old man could manage.
And for good reason—Executive Director Ju Ho-ryeong was one of those dragged into another world twenty years ago. As a 1st Gen Awakener, this raw power was within his grasp.
“Why the hell do I have to put up with this humiliation...”
Gritting his teeth, Executive Director Ju pulled out a fountain pen. Beside him, Oh Jae-hyeon gulped dryly, his eyes darting around nervously. That single pen was worth more than Oh Jae-hyeon's monthly salary—priceless, yet its current use was utterly mundane.
“Fuck...”
One hundred pages of self-reflection. This was the punishment handed down from headquarters for the incident.
A pay cut or suspension would have been preferable. Self-reflection? What a joke.
“Kehahaha! Me, at sixty years old, writing lines like some damn kid!”
To Executive Director Ju, this was the ultimate humiliation. And it was working, too.
“Ugh...”
If only he could do it when no one was around. Oh Jae-hyeon felt like he was squirming on a bed of thorns.
“What? Why are you shaking like a dog desperate to shit? Busy?”
“N-no, sir!”
“Hrrgh... this fucking... !@#$...”
“S-sir! Instead of this, why not let me...”
“What? You mocking me right now?”
“Of course not! It's just that this mess is mostly my fault...”
“Damn right it is! Who the hell brings in those gutless bastards for a job like that?!”
“Ugh.”
“Hrgh... heh heh heh!”
A groan escaped Executive Director Ju's lips—half laugh, half sob.
Just fire the bastard? The thought crossed his mind, but he shook his head, banishing it. This was a direct order from headquarters.
Headquarters. The heart of Cheonma Group. Chairman Cheon's seal was stamped on countless official documents. But a punishment this petty yet effective? It had to come from...
Definitely 'that man' who issued it.
The owner of Cheonma Group. Chairman Cheon Ji-hoon.
Executive Director Ju recalled a similar punishment from before. Boris Fernand, head of the Vladivostok branch. Last year's first-quarter performance flop earned him the same: one hundred pages of reflection. It bruised his ego, so he ignored it.
The result?
He vanished.
Poof. Gone. Not just from his post—erased from existence. No news articles, no missing person reports anywhere.
That was the terror of Cheonma Group's owner, Chairman Cheon Ji-hoon.
Having already fallen out of favor, he couldn't afford more foolishness. Handwritten, it said—so handwritten it would be.
If I slack off and get caught, I'll end up like that too.
Thinking of Cheon Ji-hoon stirred complicated feelings in Executive Director Ju. Resentment mixed with bone-deep fear.
“Nngh...”
He shuddered, recalling the overwhelming pressure from the new chairman's inauguration ceremony. Even he, a 1st Gen Awakener who'd once reached S-rank in his prime—now long retired from the front lines—had only seen him once, two years ago.
The man looked barely twenty, fresh-faced and youthful. Yet to Executive Director Ju, Chairman Cheon was an endlessly terrifying figure.
What if he'd stayed active all these years? Would it have been different? In Ju's eyes, no.
There was a vast gulf between them, even as fellow 1st Gen Awakeners. Ju had felt it clearly from that single glimpse.
...Just get it done.
Before long, he'd passed the twentieth page. Whether from the task itself or the mere thought of Chairman Cheon, a genuine wave of remorse welled up.
“Sir...”
“What now?!”
“About the Security C-Team's handling... I was wondering what you wanted to do...”
“Hmph!”
Oh Jae-hyeon's words scrambled Executive Director Ju's briefly calmed mind once more.
Security C-Team. The prime culprits of this fiasco. Sure, it was ultimately his fault, but they'd botched the job.
And moreover...
“They've gone dark?”
“Yes. They might've died during the op, but...”
“Hmph. If they'd died, Kim I-su would've too.”
Executive Director Ju grumbled, referencing the installation team member ruled a suicide. If the C-Team was dead, Kim I-su would've vanished alongside them—not jumped from his office out of nowhere.
“So you're saying they betrayed us.”
“Exactly. Doesn't matter how it went down—the result's the same.”
“...Understood. I'll track their movements and report back.”
“...Was it that woman, Park Sujin?”
“Doubt it. She was here at the center when C-Team mobilized.”
“Nngh...”
Then who the hell was it? If it had been Park Sujin, at least it'd make sense. Ju knew her strength from reports—an A-rank hunter from Yukang Group. That's why he'd rushed to wrap things up while she was pinned down here.
“What about her brother? The one who left early?”
“Not him either. He clocked out around 1 p.m. Unless he got home in ten minutes flat.”
“Fair point. Impossible.”
The drive from the center to their place was roughly 100 kilometers. Even at peak speed, it took nearly two hours. Executive Director Ju couldn't have managed it in his prime.
“So a third party.”
“Yes. While those two were here, that person guarded the house. If they got taken out by him, it fits.”
“Hm. Maybe that guy's the one who knows the otherworld crop cultivation method.”
“Oh, right! As expected of you, sir. I hadn't even considered that.”
“Hmph. Don't butter me up.”
Executive Director Ju grumbled, but he was pleased deep down.
“Keep digging. They dared touch a Cheonma Group executive—they won't get away with it.”
“Yes, sir. I'll report as soon as I find something.”
“Hm. Anyway...”
Executive Director Ju kept at the reflections for a good while longer. Eventually, he even unleashed his unique ability to speed through, hitting the hundred-page mark.
“Phew! Fucking finally.”
“G-great work, sir. Here's some coffee...”
Oh Jae-hyeon had subordinates prep coffee around page fifty.
“Tch.”
Grumbling, Executive Director Ju slurped it down. The syrupy sweetness eased his irritation a bit. The sugar rush sharpened his mind too.
If I show up to the board like this...
Cheonma Group's general shareholders' meeting next month. That was the problem.
Already in Chairman Cheon's bad books, he needed something to flip the script.
“...Guess it's time for a drink.”
“A drink, sir? You don't mean there...”
“Yeah! A dungeon! What else—Gwanak Mountain?”
“N-no, sir! I'll prep everything for immediate departure.”
“Hmph.”
Slurp. He downed another sweet gulp.
I need to stock up on power.
To survive the board meeting, it was his only option.
* * *
“It's so peaceful.”
“Indeed.”
Me, Yelena, and Do-cheol—even counting the robot as a person—our trio lounged in front of the new farm shed, soaking in the relaxation. Half-reclined in a long beach chair with armrests, sunglasses on, it felt perfect. Do-cheol had even slapped a sunglasses emoji on his screen to match.
May already. The warm sun made it feel like a resort if only the sea was nearby.
“This is basically Hawaii.”
Not that I'd been.
“Soo-hyeok. Been to Hawaii?”
“Eh, you could say that.”
I regaled Yelena with TV images of Hawaii, mixing in bits from old games.
“Soo-hyeok. Hawaii's been a dungeon for ages. You can tell you haven't been.”
“...Really?”
“Yes.”
“Ahem.”
Embarrassed at my bluff, I cleared my throat and changed topics.
“...Sucks that Hawaii turned into a dungeon. All the famous resorts off-limits now, huh.”
“What's that mean, Soo-hyeok? Dungeons don't mean access denied.”
“...No?”
I tilted my head, and Yelena slipped off her sunglasses, staring at me. She nodded slightly, looking smug.
“Soo-hyeok. Need an explanation?”
“...Yeah.”
I almost denied it out of pride but nodded anyway.
“Powerful monsters sometimes trigger dungeonization. You know?”
“Yeah, saw it last time.”
The druid fighting Sujin had dungeonized the back mountain. The sky even turned black.
“Mm. Roughly, for monsters: Gate spawns monsters, infested land becomes a field. A strong one born there dungeonizes the field into a dungeon.”
“Dungeon's the final evolution, huh.”
“Yes. Soo-hyeok learns fast. Good.”
“...”
Was that a compliment? Why did it irk me?
“So Hawaii's whole thing is a dungeon now?”
Dungeonization left two paths inside: Kill the trigger monster or everyone trapped dies.
“Similar, but different. Dungeonization is hell, but the dungeon itself? People love 'em.”
“Huh? Why?”
Yelena explained the dungeon vs. dungeonization difference in her clipped Korean. She'd improved a lot since coming to Korea—odd phrasing aside.
TL;DR: Successful dungeonization leaves a dungeon on the land, complete with a door. Only through the door do monsters or people enter/exit. Free access after, harvest byproducts from minor mobs (avoiding the dungeon master room). Profitable as hell.
“Anyone can just wander in?”
“No. Registered awakeners only, for safety. Usage fees are steep.”
“Ah.”
“Hawaii's raking in dungeon profits now. More than tourism, I hear.”
Should've spared the druid then? Nah—had to kill it to get injured Sujin out.
“Tch. Missed opportunity.”
“Don't worry. Dungeon revenue mostly goes to taxes.”
“Hm. Not so bad then.”
“Ooh, nice.”
Do-cheol served cocktails from fresh farm fruits. A cherry from yesterday's greenhouse harvest topped it—looked pro.
Slurp.
“Ooh, not bad.”
Made with ingredients ordered via the shed's computer. Annoying to admit, but big corps had perks.
“Money buys this luxury.”
Snap hook vine cultivation was on track. Daily spirit magic from me and Do-cheol kept 'em growing; Cheonma Group bought harvests—no worries.
Time for something new.
“Yelena. Dungeons grow otherworld crops too?”
“Yes. Main harvest's wild dungeon ones. Not like your outdoor farming.”
“Got it.”
Time to dig some up. I pulled out my phone and called Sujin.
“...Yeah. Bro. What's up?”
“Hey. Nothing big. Can you talk?”
“Mm. Briefly.”
Her words made me feel guilty. Sis had no time for calls, while her lazy bro lounged with cocktails.
“That thing I mentioned before. Gonna do it.”
“That?”
“Yeah.”
Yelena said dungeons required awakener registration.
“Let's get me registered as an awakener.”