Gwak Ji-cheol in Crisis

There were far too many possible sources to even guess who might have let that slip.

It could have been Song Cheon-hye, a fellow Disciplinary Committee member, passing him a quiet heads-up. Or his younger brother Gwak Ji-cheol, letting something slide in the middle of a conversation. Or, beyond them, any of the others who'd taken part in the 4-on-4 mentoring PvP — Son Hyeong-taek, Bukgung Han-seol, and the like.

Still, if I had to name the most likely suspect,

"I take it Senior Kim Gap-du is the one who told you."

"He did."

Gwak Seung-jae did not deny it.

During the 4-on-4, Gwak Ji-cheol had said this:

"I heard it from my brother once. About Senior Kim Gap-du."

"He said that for a martial artist, the man is cautious to the point of excess."

At a glance it sounded like a simple character assessment, but it also implied a certain familiarity between Kim Gap-du and Gwak Seung-jae. And if the two were close enough to trade personal stories — romance talk, no less — they had to be closer still.

"He spent quite a while pouring his heart out to me."

Though in this case, it would have been less a conversation than a one-sided lament.

Kim Gap-du had summoned Gwak Seung-jae and launched into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a drunken rant without a drop of alcohol in him:

"The two of you looked so close......"

"You were even getting all touchy-feely......"

"So lovey-dovey it made me sick with envy......"

"And then I got blocked again......"

"I wasn't even trying to be a bother......"

And Gwak Seung-jae, by all appearances, had listened to every word of it with perfect detachment.

So the aftershocks have caught up with him.

When Kim Gap-du was turned away by Dang Gyu-young one final time, he'd walked off without a shred of lingering attachment — he'd even handed me a Lesser Elixir, telling me to take good care of her. I'd thought his departing back looked genuinely admirable. Apparently, though, he hadn't quite conquered the ache of a broken heart after all.

Well, if human hearts bent to our will, who would ever know suffering? More than understandable.

That said, one thing is one thing — what needed correcting, I would correct, and move on.

"I am close with Senior Dang Gyu-young, but we are not dating."

"I heard the words 'not yet.' And it's true there is mutual affection between you, is it not?"

"I respect her as my senior."

"I also heard you spend no small amount of time together."

"She's my mentor, and I'm her mentee."

"...I see."

My answers flowed as smoothly as water running downhill. Gwak Seung-jae studied me for a moment with level, unreadable eyes, then gave a small nod. He didn't look entirely convinced, though — perhaps because he'd carried back quite an earful from Kim Gap-du. From where I stood, he seemed to believe I was simply too embarrassed to admit it, or that our relationship turning into something more was only a matter of time.

I had no particular urge to correct him that far, and since no one can read the future, I didn't bother adding anything more.

Gwak Seung-jae moved on.

"Meddling any deeper in your private affairs would be an imposition. Even so — whatever the two of you do, keep it within the line the academy rules draw. There must be no occasion for me to come hunting you down as I did in the Underground Floors."

"I'll bear it in mind."

Bear it in mind, and never get caught — problem solved, no?

As if he'd seen straight through me, Gwak Seung-jae held me in his gaze for a beat. Then he withdrew it and turned to his next subject.

"And how is Ji-cheol faring?"

Dead weight, honestly.

By combat value, call him 0.3 of a person.

—Not exactly something I could say to the man's own brother, so I served up a conveniently vague reply.

"He's getting by. Doing about as much as anyone else would."

"From what I observed, he strains merely to keep pace. Am I wrong?"

"Can't be helped. The people around him are hardly ordinary."

Objectively speaking, the problem was less that Gwak Ji-cheol fell short and more that his squadmates soared. Setting me aside as a special case, there was Song Cheon-hye of the Disciplinary Committee, and Hong Yeon-hwa, a rising star of the first order. Straining to match their stride, he was bound to tear himself apart at the seams.

Of course, none of us — not I, not Dang Gyu-young, not Gwak Seung-jae — was the forgiving sort who graded on such considerations.

"That good-for-nothing younger brother of mine. When will he ever shed this frog-in-a-well existence......"

"He'll improve bit by bit, won't he? Keep watching over him."

"I suppose I shall."

Gwak Seung-jae's manner remained as brusque as it had been throughout, yet this time a quiet undercurrent of care for his brother came through all the same.

"Have you heard about the expulsion?"

"I was given to understand it had been rescinded."

The duel with the Emerald Magic Tower. Back then, club president Mok Jonghwa had declared to Gwak Ji-cheol, "Lose, and you're out of the club" — yet even after I dismantled them with a perfect game, nothing seemed to change. So I'd written the whole expulsion business off as empty bluster. With Gwak Seung-jae raising it now, that was evidently not the case.

"It was postponed. By two months."

"Two months after the duel... that would put it a week or two past the midterms."

"Yes. The final call will rest on his ranking at that point."

So that's why he's been grinding so hard.

Lately, Gwak Ji-cheol had shown a peculiar fixation on results. Look back at last week's 4-on-4, for instance: he'd cooked up any number of reasons to persuade Dang Gyu-young to pit him against Il Gong. On the surface it would have been for the team's victory, but beneath it, a fierce competitive hunger to bring Il Gong ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down by any means had been plain to see.

At the time I'd wondered, So that's the kind of guy he is? — but if his club membership was riding on it, that explained a great deal. Every single win and loss counts when you're fighting to climb the rankings.

The trouble was, Gwak Ji-cheol had yet to show anything for it. In the very match I'd cited, he'd been trounced miserably by Il Gong, and his ranking had barely scraped by unchanged.

Which could only mean—

"If this keeps up, he gets thrown out."

"Hah... I suppose he does."

For once, Gwak Seung-jae answered with a sigh. What older brother could hear that his own flesh and blood was about to be cast out of his club and stay untroubled?

And the fact that Gwak Seung-jae had carried the conversation this far could only mean one thing.

"Is there something you would ask of me?"

"There is. Though I cannot promise much in return."

The Disciplinary Committee was bound to strict neutrality at all times, and its standing policy was to discourage private dealings among its members wherever possible. Which meant that even if I granted Gwak Seung-jae's request, what he could pay me would be tightly limited.

Yet, unlike my usual habit, I didn't haggle.

Material payment isn't everything.

Least of all with a man like him.

"Speak."

"We spoke of the expulsion, but in truth that is the lesser concern. What matters more is that Ji-cheol's own skill grows."

"My thoughts exactly."

"I would have you guide him — lead him to fight his way through the ordeal before him by his own strength."

In other words: make it so that Gwak Ji-cheol, currently being pummeled black and blue by the ogre before keeling over, could overcome his predicament on nothing but his own power.

"That won't be easy."

"If the demand is impossible, then do only as much as your hand can reach."

"It isn't impossible. I'll find a way."

I accepted Gwak Seung-jae's request without so much as a flicker of hesitation. In a veteran gamer's dictionary, the word impossible does not exist.

Gwak Ji-cheol was waiting for me, anxiety written all over him. The question came the instant our eyes met.

"What did you talk about with my brother?"

"You. Quit making your brother worry about you, punk. You frog-in-a-well punk."

"......"

Any other day, Gwak Ji-cheol would have erupted on the spot — but with his brother invoked, he apparently didn't dare, and kept his mouth clamped shut. After a moment, he forced the words out in a strangled tone.

"...I have a favor to ask."

"Don't want to."

"Hear the whole thing before you refuse."

"Nope. Don't want to."

What he meant to ask was obvious at a glance, so I moved first. One of the many time-honored methods for jacking up one's price.

And right on cue, the desperate Gwak Ji-cheol produced an emerald from his inventory.

"Help me with the raid, will you? I'll pay the price."

"......"

I eyed the stone with bored indifference — then drew a ruby from my inventory and set it down beside the emerald.

The ruby Hong Yeon-hwa and the Ruby Magic Tower had given me for granting their requests during the sticker PvP. Placed next to Gwak Ji-cheol's emerald, it was exactly twice the size.

The gap between D-rank and B-rank.

"See it? That's the difference in sincerity between you and Hong Yeon-hwa."

On top of that, she'd also helped with smelting the Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron.

Gwak Ji-cheol had never dreamed such dealings flowed between me and the Ruby Magic Tower, and the flustered look on his face said as much.

"...!"

"If you're going to pay, at least try to match her."

"Th-this is the biggest thing I've got right now."

As things stood, far from squeezing extra support out of the Emerald Magic Tower, he was the one fighting to keep his membership — and reaching out to his clan would be its own embarrassment. Holding his hand out to Gwak Seung-jae was more ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unthinkable still.

Even so, Gwak Ji-cheol needed my help, whatever it took. And so the option he settled on was—

"I-I'll make it up to you later. Without fail."

"With something bigger than this?"

"Absolutely."

When I pointed at the ruby and asked, Gwak Ji-cheol nodded hard.

Knew it would come to this.

This was, in part, why I hadn't pressed Gwak Seung-jae for concrete compensation — because I'd be collecting from Gwak Ji-cheol himself. If the emerald paid later matched the ruby Hong Yeon-hwa had given me, the job would be well ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠worth taking. I could collect the emerald down the road, or demand an item of equal worth instead.

Of course, if Gwak Ji-cheol truly did get expelled, the Emerald Magic Tower's support would be severed at the root — leaving a small but real risk that I'd be underpaid, or stiffed outright.

So for now, I'd simply teach him as much as I'd been paid for.

See how well he kept up, and if the outlook turned sour, I could always pull out. Simple as that.

When I silently held out my hand, Gwak Ji-cheol laid the emerald upon it.

"Let's head in first. We can talk inside."

"Right."

We entered the dungeon first. The early stretch held nothing difficult, so there was no harm in talking as we went. We each collected our crystal and stepped into the cave.

Clearing away the swarming goblins as we advanced, I opened the discussion.

"What have your defensive options been this whole time? Block or dodge — that's the entire list, isn't it? And blocking just gets smashed straight through by the ogre, while dodging was never your gift."

"...That's right."

Gwak Ji-cheol conceded the point with a conflicted face. His mentoring as an All-Rounder had sharpened his evasion somewhat, but dodging everything the ogre threw at him was still beyond him.

"I was going to wait until you worked it out on your own, but seeing as things have come to this, I'll hand you the answer up front. Deflect the attacks."

"Isn't that even harder?"

"For most people, sure. But you're an earth-and-wood mage, aren't you?"

Of all mages in existence, the earth-and-wood mage commands the richest arsenal of defensive tools. Naturally, their means of letting an enemy's blow slide harmlessly past are just as endless. And among the dozens of spells Gwak Ji-cheol had learned at the Emerald Magic Tower, one or two suited to this exact situation were bound to exist.

"You've been casting the same old spells on loop, so your thinking's gone stiff. Think it through properly."

"......"

At that, Gwak Ji-cheol sank into thought, brow furrowed. Digging up the specific spell was his job — it wasn't as though I could see other people's status windows, after all, so what he'd been taught at his tower was beyond my sight. Still, I took over clearing the goblins so he could at least think in peace.

We pressed on until the view brightened and the Sanctuary came into sight. A pillar of light burst from an enormous stalactite, pointing straight at Gwak Ji-cheol.

This time, he's the one charging first.

"Guuoo?"

The ogre, which had been seated with its back to us, turned its head and fixed its gaze on Gwak Ji-cheol. It hefted its club and rose from its spot.

Gwak Ji-cheol had been grinding through the problem right up until that moment — and then, abruptly, something seemed to flash through his mind.

"Got something?"

"No idea if it'll work... but I'll try."

The emerald blazed with a vivid green light. In that state, Gwak Ji-cheol drove his staff deep into the ground — and the whole area around him dissolved into fine, soft sand.