Real-World Shadows and the Compu Mushroom Stink-Off
“Hoo.”
Back home, Hanbit sat down at his desk. He'd already dug up everything on the guy he'd grabbed earlier, deleted the photos, and let him go. He'd planted a few bits of bait info to muddy the waters too. With the guy's number in hand, he could use him as a smokescreen later if needed. A generous payout ought to keep him motivated.
Deksu Investigations: We find everything from rats to corpses.
The key was figuring out who was trying to dig into him. Whatever their goal, it wasn't welcome.
“Adventure A, that bastard, probably.”
Rainzer didn't seem the type to orchestrate something like this, from what he'd observed. Trigger was busy baring his teeth in-game—no need to mess with reality. Factions cozying up via his Black Dragon connection wouldn't risk this either; one slip-up and they'd be blacklisted for good. That left someone approaching with a totally different agenda. Someone like Adventure A, who'd lost all ground because of Black Dragon.
“This pace won't cut it.”
Threats were popping up in both game and real life. If Adventure A was the culprit, he'd be facing a pack of grudge-driven vanguards. Better to accelerate his growth, solidify his position. Bulk up his forces and swell his allies—that was the ideal play.
Hanbit snatched his smartphone and dialed Yeonu. The call connected in under a second.
(Ah, hyung. I was just about to hit you up.)
Yeonu sounded like he needed to talk too, jumping right in.
“What's up? Something happen?”
(Not 'something'—did you check the contract properly?)
The contract he'd received before heading out with Mom. He'd reviewed it thoroughly and signed already.
“Yeah, all good. Still can't believe these terms are real, though.”
The DD Studio deal was built entirely around him, from top to bottom. Co-CEO treatment with zero responsibilities? Absurd, but Yeonu had stubbornly refused any refusal.
(We're gonna milk you for all you're worth, so don't sweat it. Win-win is our motto.)
“Fine, squeeze me dry. You editing that hidden zone footage?”
(Chopping it into sections for now. Breaking down the攻略 into chapters makes it easier to watch.)
The hidden zone攻略 from yesterday's recording. With the no-other-players clause for release, timing the upload was crucial.
“Upload half tonight, then.”
(Half?)
“There were three orbs to stop the golem, right? Show just the first one. Pull the aggro that way.”
(Ooh... smart. I'll cut it there.)
Yeonu agreed instantly, clacking away at his keyboard to note it down. He finished quick, then piped up like something just hit him.
(Cooking contest later, right? What's your plan? Never seen you cook, hyung.)
“Gotta nail it. Not a massive event anyway, yeah?”
(Not huge, but it's got a rep. Real chefs show up. Fun fact: Riwei's family owns a famous traditional Chinese spot. He didn't go pro, but he's no amateur.)
“No kidding?”
Unexpected intel on Riwei. But Hanbit had his own confidence, so no real worry.
“Oh, one more thing. Some agency tail followed me today.”
(Agency?)
Hanbit gave his brother the short version, including the Adventure A hunch.
(More aggressive than I thought. I'll poke around too.)
Yeonu's tone grew serious. If anyone could unearth dirt, it was him.
With everything said, Hanbit stood from his chair.
“Logging in now. Talk later.”
***
“Riwei's cooking?”
The shocking rumor spread through Cheongna HQ. Everyone knew Riwei was from a famous restaurant family. But since he hadn't joined the biz, “cooking” never came up.
“Why cooking all of a sudden?”
“Heard he's in some Ifrit local dish contest.”
“Versus Black Dragon?”
“Another showdown?”
The questions dissolved fast at “showdown.” Riwei threw everything into any competition.
“Let's check it out!”
Curiosity won; folks rushed to the kitchen. Sure enough, Riwei stood alone, pondering something fierce. His counter brimmed with spices and sauces.
“He looks hot when he's brooding like that...”
“I'd be filming ads nonstop.”
“Don't even. He told sponsors he'd model if he wins their bet.”
Riwei ignored anything but showdowns and training. Ads? Promo? Waste of time. Keep bugging him, and he'd settle it with a challenge. Shockingly, one company had taken the bait.
“Stench, huh...”
Riwei muttered, arms crossed. RP gear sat ready beside him.
“Isn't that Level 3 gear?”
“Why not use the capsule upstairs?”
As mid-tier pioneer, Riwei got capsule support from gear makers. Elite stuff, not for just any pioneer—earned through insane in-game feats, not mere showdown obsession.
“Black Dragon's on Level 3, probably matching him.”
One employee nailed it. Fair play was Riwei's creed; equal gear was non-negotiable.
Whoosh! Done thinking, Riwei fired up a massive wok with roaring flames licking the air. Looked like cooking time—but no ingredients yet.
Splash! Just sauces and spices poured in, amounts and types shifting rapidly for a solid stretch.
Awe turned to respect at his intensity; employees slipped away one by one. No one was dumb enough to keep bugging a pioneer.
“This should do for a start.”
Two hours of tinkering later, he nodded and eyed his gear. He suited up, waking his idling character.
“Still a bit off.”
Post-Black Dragon split, he'd hunted sauces and spices galore. Plenty matched RP flavors, freeing his experiments. Not perfect—trial and error persisted here too.
“Round two.”
Forest edge fire lit, Riwei pondered. Contest Compu Mushrooms' state? Unknown. Prep for every scenario, then.
Whoosh! Iron griddle out, he recreated real-world results. Research dragged into dawn.
***
Ifrit's market square sprawled wide. A hundred counters stood in neat ranks.
“Welcome, all! Thanks for joining our quirky local dish showdown! I'm host Hanter!”
The burly MC boomed to the packed crowd—no standing room.
“Can't skip the judges! We have West Continent cuisine authority Luck! Traveled from the capital—your words?”
“I'll trash any garbage food without mercy.”
The stern middle-aged judge at the front table deadpanned. Player Eric tensed hard.
Shouldn't have signed up.
Three years as a pro chef, he'd entered for learning—with unique local ingredients. But this? Way off script.
Why are they here?
Eyes darted: Riwei and streamer Avant-garde flanked the pros. And dead center:
[Black Dragon]
The black-haired man stood silently at his counter, drawing all eyes. His pull packed the event.
Eric had pictured chill vibes. This felt like war eve.
“Now, the ingredients!”
MC approached the central box, gripping the white cloth cover. He pinched his nose dramatically before yanking it off.
“As announced, main ingredient: Compu Mushroom! Shunned for its stench, but pure Ifrit local flavor. How will you tame this reeking beast? Start now!”
Clang! Gong rang; contest on. Mood? Not so much.
“Urk!”
“Bluuuugh!”
Bold entrants rushed the box—only to puke and collapse. No pre-study, apparently.
“Already dropouts galore! Demonstrating the mushroom's power, eh?!”
MC laughed through his nose-plug. Twenty writhed on the ground—quite the spectacle.
“Fuu.”
Eric pinched his nose, grabbed a handful. Slick, squishy, sticky beyond the sheen. Stench hit visually, but he powered through.
Swish. Three others approached unfazed: Black Dragon, Riwei, Avant-garde.
“What the—?”
“No nose-plug and straight in?”
“Why're they fine?”
No flinch as they scooped and returned to counters. Other contestants gawked.
“...”
Eric shuffled past the legends to his station, nose still clamped.
Splash! First: dunk mushrooms in a cold-water bucket. Kill the initial stink.
But.
“Urk?!”
Submerged shrooms belched worse stench. Panicked, Eric slammed the lid.
What the hell?
Practice said the smell should've faded. This? Amplified. Bewildering.
“Huh?”
“What is this?!”
“Shit...!”
Others in the same boat. Then MC's voice:
“Oh, forgot to mention! These Compu Mushrooms are specially aged! Fiercer, stickier stench with deeper umami! Can't wait to see how you wield 'em!”