What is a Supporter?
“Hah!” The melee dealer thrust his spear in a wide arc, piercing straight through a goblin’s forehead. Two more goblins lunged at the opening, only for arrows to streak in from the side and protect him.
“Right side’s clear! I’m joining you!” The tank, having finished off the other goblin pack, moved in to finish the ones staggering from the arrows.
“Good work. I’ll heal you right away.” The healer tended to the injured melee dealer while the tank wiped blood and flesh from his shield and checked his gear. Everyone had a role.
Everyone except the supporter.
“Party leader.”
“What is it, Supporter-nim?”
“I’m tired. Let’s take a break.”
At the supporter’s words, a vein bulged on the tank’s forehead. The man stayed at the very rear during movement, kept his distance once combat began, and only ever muttered a single line—“I’ve applied a physical defense buff”—before scurrying away. Even after the fight ended, he was the one resting comfortably. And now he claimed to be tired? After doing literally nothing but walking?
Everyone in the party was thinking the same thing, yet the party leader—the melee dealer—simply smiled.
“Understood. We’ll rest for ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes? That’s too short. I’ve used up all my mana, so I can’t even give buffs anymore. I need at least thirty minutes to recover.”
The tank finally snapped.
“Supporter-nim. There are over a hundred other competitors in this dungeon besides us. The organizers only prepared a limited number of tokens. We don’t have time to lounge around like this.”
“I know that. But without buffs, we don’t get experience. And that would violate the contract.”
“Ha, the contract……”
“Yes. The clause about equal experience distribution. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
The moment the contract was mentioned, the furious tank dragged a hand down his face. The supporter’s buffs weren’t game-changing. There was a difference between receiving them and not, but they weren’t mandatory. More importantly, whenever monsters were killed while the buff was active, ten percent of the experience was automatically funneled to the supporter. Most parties preferred to forgo the weak buff entirely and keep their full experience rather than lose ten percent for such meager gains. That was the standard rule.
“Tank-nim, let’s just rest for thirty minutes. Letting the supporter land the final blow so he can leech experience would waste even more time.”
“We’ve only collected seven tokens. There are five of us, and we need at least five points to be safe for the exam. At this rate, even three points per person will be difficult.”
“Come here for a moment.”
The party leader pulled the agitated tank into a corner and whispered.
“I’m annoyed the supporter joined too, but what can we do? We already took a hundred million as a down payment, and we’re getting another hundred million after the exam. Right?”
“I know. But if we fail because of that guy, we’ll have to wait until next year.”
“If it’s the tokens you’re worried about, I have a solution. Don’t worry.”
“What is it?”
“We take them.”
“What? Ah!”
“There’s no rule saying we can’t steal tokens from other applicants, is there?”
The tank’s expression brightened as he nodded. A few hours later, they found their prey: a shaggy-haired mage wearing glasses and a cocky-looking swordsman. The pair looked easy to handle, yet their coin purses appeared heavy.
* * *
Chae Mu-jin’s party entered the dungeon as well. Kim Yeo-ul looked up at the sky and gasped.
“There’s a sun. It was dark outside.”
It wasn’t just the sun. The air was unpleasantly humid, as if they were underwater, and the constant rustling of insects filled the space. Even someone who had never seen a real jungle could tell this was one.
“Dungeons and the real world are separate spaces. Anyway, Kim Ji-woo. This isn’t your first dungeon, right?”
“As expected of my NewTube subscriber. You know about my Horned Rabbit and Zombie dungeon experiences.”
“Then why aren’t you on guard?”
“Huh? On guard?”
Chae Mu-jin gave him an incredulous look.
“You never learned that monsters could be right in front of you the moment you enter?”
“Ah, I know that. But how often does a monster actually spawn right at the entrance?”
Kim Ji-woo shrugged with a grin. Chae Mu-jin ignored him and turned to Kim Yeo-ul.
“Since this is your first time, I’ll teach you. If you want to survive, never let your guard down inside a dungeon. Like Kim Ji-woo said, the chance of a monster spawning right at the entrance is less than one percent. But if that one percent kills you, you’ll regret it even more. Especially as a mage with no survival skills.”
“Ah, yes. Never let my guard down… I’ll remember.”
“Tch, lesson over? Let’s move. I want to gather thirty tokens and rest already.”
“Wait.”
“Now what?”
Kim Ji-woo turned around, his tone noticeably sharper.
“This dungeon is a jungle field. If we wander without a plan, we’ll just get lost. Scouting comes first.”
“Scouting? That’s annoying.”
“You won’t have to do it. I’m the one scouting.”
“Seriously? You’re a supporter, hyung-nim. What business does a supporter have scouting?”
Supporters were supposed to watch from the back and only apply buffs once combat started. That was the entirety of the role. But Chae Mu-jin’s idea of supporting was different.
“That’s exactly why I should scout. So the dealers and tanks can focus entirely on fighting without worrying about stamina.”
“It’s dangerous. Do you even have an escape skill?”
“No, but so what? I’m scouting, not fighting.”
“Weird. Everything you say makes sense, but that’s not really what supporters do, is it?”
“I’m different.”
While talking, Chae Mu-jin bent down and picked something up, then handed the items to the other two.
“Fruit? Hyung-nim, you do know that most plants in dungeons are toxic and shouldn’t be eaten or even touched, right?”
Kim Ji-woo, who had been waiting for a chance to push back after all the scolding, questioned him sharply. Chae Mu-jin deliberately crushed one of the green fruits in his hand.
“We’re not eating it. We’re crushing it and rubbing it on our armpits and groin.”
“Ugh, what are you doing! You’ll ruin your clothes!”
Green had long been associated with poison. Seeing the green fruit smeared on clothes and skin made both Kim Ji-woo and Kim Yeo-ul recoil.
“This is Rabbit Cherry. It’s safe as long as you don’t ingest it. When applied to the body like this, it completely masks your scent. Goblins have excellent noses—they can smell humans from a hundred meters away.”
“W-wait, how do you know that? Did you go to a hunter private school or something?”
“I studied dungeon biology as a hobby.”
Kim Ji-woo tried to figure out Chae Mu-jin’s identity but couldn’t. Being an overwhelmingly strong supporter was already impressive enough, but having this much field knowledge too? Jealousy bubbled up, so he picked a fight anyway.
“Still, I don’t want to apply it. Even if goblins find us, we can just kill them.”
“The moment goblins spot you two, they’ll call for reinforcements and form an encirclement. Then, once they think they’ve closed the distance, they’ll shoot poisoned needles from every direction. They’ll keep doing it until you collapse from exhaustion. Do you really think you can break through those needles and kill them all?”
It wasn’t a question, so Chae Mu-jin continued.
“While I’m scouting, apply the Rabbit Cherry and hide in those bushes over there. That way you won’t be discovered and killed by goblins, and you’ll preserve your stamina. If you have a better idea, tell me. I’ll accept it if it’s convincing.”
He gave them a chance to speak, but both remained silent as if their mouths were glued shut.
“If there’s no communication method, scouting won’t exceed thirty minutes. Remember that.”
With that, Chae Mu-jin disappeared into the forest. Kim Ji-woo and Kim Yeo-ul stood there dazed for a moment before startling at the sound of a branch swaying in the wind.
“W-we should do as he said, right?”
“Y-yeah.”
Even though they’d only been told to apply it to their armpits and groin, both frantically smeared Rabbit Cherry all over their bodies.
* * *
Fresh air. The beautiful harmony of nature. That was what ordinary people imagined when they thought of a forest. But a wild forest was a den filled with invisible threats. Twigs scattered everywhere made loud noises when stepped on. Rocks that looked sturdy had slippery surfaces that easily caused falls. Dangerous venomous insects were small and camouflaged, so they went unnoticed unless examined closely. Concentration quickly led to eye fatigue.
Chae Mu-jin moved through this jungle as if it were his own living room.
“It’s been a while since I scouted myself.”
In his previous life, he had scouted personally for the first two years, but after that, party members with scouting skills appeared and he no longer needed to. It had been eighteen years since his last time scouting. Yet strangely, the old instincts returned as vividly as ever.
“Must be thanks to the Akashic Record.”
The EX-rank skill he had thought was only for preserving pre-regression memories had apparently restored his body’s muscle memory as well.
“It feels like it happened just yesterday.”
He stopped walking and looked around. Something felt familiarly out of place.
“Found it. This is a path the goblins use.”
Even wild animals had their own trails. Humanoid goblins would be no different. Approaching the artificially flattened vegetation, he bent down and found short, stiff goblin hairs.
“Still damp. They passed through recently.”
Following this path would lead him to goblins. Naturally, he would also discover the places they used—rivers or lakes for water, or their settlements. The tokens would most likely be near those locations.
He could head back now, but something nagged at him, so he sat down for a moment.
“Kim Yeo-ul. Just how did you become the Murder Association President?”
In the short time he’d known him, the man’s personality and demeanor suggested he was far from a murderer—barely qualified to be a hunter at all.
“Even if his timid nature can be fixed, talent is something that never changes.”
Talent was innate. Just as studying science didn’t make everyone an Einstein. He had confidently told Kim Yeo-ul he would become S-rank, but that was only because he knew the future. The Kim Yeo-ul standing before him now had a limit of B-rank at best, even with genuine effort.
“It’s obvious even without seeing it. His combat sense will be terrible, and he’ll use his skills sloppily.”
Training could compensate somewhat, but the ceiling would come quickly.
“Kim Yeo-ul has a secret. Let’s dig into that secret.”
People only showed their true selves when faced with mortal danger. So if he gave him a brush with death, his true value would reveal itself.
“He needs Grace Points to become a target for Seizure, and only then will his traits and skills become visible. I’ll have to steadily build up those Grace Points too.”
How many Grace Points would saving him from mortal danger earn? The anticipation made his steps feel light as feathers.