Disciplinary Action (3)

Unlike Song Cheon-hye, whose trauma was being prodded awake by the mere sight of the thing, the Dark Oublek looked utterly unbothered after ramming into the Ice Wall.

Its current form was a grotesque mash-up of giant mole, bats, and insects, but at its core it was a slime-type monster — meaning it would no doubt boast fairly high resistance to blunt impact.

Squelch, squelch.

Sure enough, the Dark Oublek began circling around the Ice Wall. But by then, Han So-mi had already closed in to point-blank range.

As if to swat away an annoying obstacle, the Oublek swung a forelimb shaped like an insect's foreleg. Han So-mi stepped into her footwork to evade even as she swung the sword in her hand. The blade blurred out of sight for an instant—

Shrrk-geok!

—and carved the swinging forelimb into pieces.

Yet even this seemed to deal no real damage. The Oublek wobbled its body a few times, and in the space of a blink the severed arm had regrown — worse, the scattered pieces on the ground came crawling back and were reabsorbed on the spot.

That thing is a terrible ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠matchup for a swordswoman.

Ordinary slashing attacks would struggle to get results. If she committed herself to cutting it down to the last shred, she could probably take it, but for now, the most Han So-mi could do was pin the thing in place and keep it from advancing.

Just as the monster raised its forelimb to swing again, a single bolt of lightning shot in and struck it square between the eyes.

KRAK-BOOM!

The lightning had come, naturally, from Song Cheon-hye. This time it worked — the Oublek grotesquely twisted the spot where it had been hit. Song Cheon-hye studied the thing closely for a moment, then opened her mouth.

“I am going to cast a large-scale spell.”

“That is the textbook play, yeah.”

“Both of you, please hold it in place alongside So-mi.”

“Let's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do that.”

The plan: the rest of the party would tie the monster down in one spot while Song Cheon-hye swept it away with a single large-scale spell. It had worked back in Winterhalt, so it ought to hold up here as well.

First things first — cut off its escape.

So I cast Ice Wall, one after another. Walls of ice surged up and fused together, sealing every passage without a gap. Given its nature, the Dark Oublek would bolt the instant a fight turned against it, and Sweep-type dungeons like this one were vast and labyrinthine, brimming with places to run and holes to hide in. Better to prepare now than to lose it and suffer twice the trouble later.

Then Song Cheon-hye's gaze and mine turned to Shin Byung-cheol at the same time. He was still off in a corner, dutifully catching his breath.

“Hah, hck, haah, khf, keh.”

“Mister, why is your stamina this trash? One more sprint and you'd have puked.”

“I was in a, hah, hurry, huff, so I ran, khf.”

“Now, deep breaths for me. In... and out. You caught that just now, right?”

“...”

Instead of answering, Shin Byung-cheol raised a hand and made an OK sign with his fingers.

Apparently he needed a little more time, so I left him to it and summoned Ice Walls anew, enclosing the Oublek on all sides.

Shrrk-geok!

Meanwhile, Han So-mi was leisurely slicing and shoving the monster back all on her own. Ordinarily she was pure sweetness and sunshine, the last person you'd connect with combat — but once her blade came out, she spared no mercy.

Trusting in that skill, Song Cheon-hye immediately began chanting her spell. Above one of her hands, intricate arrays of sigils rose and assembled themselves, while her other hand stayed extended forward, tendrils of current streaming from her fingertips and gathering above the monster's head.

Bzzt-zzt-zzt!

Perhaps the threat registered on some instinctive level. The giant mole lifted its head, traced the current with its gaze, and fixed its stare on Song Cheon-hye — then tried to push forward, ignoring Han So-mi entirely.

Shwaaak!

In that instant, long chopsticks came flying and sank deep into the monster's body here and there. Nor did they stop there — linked by threads of mana, they wove themselves into a net that bound the thing fast.

I turned to the chopstick-thrower in question.

“Feeling a bit better now, sir?”

“Hrrk—kheh.”

Judging by the bizarre noise, Shin Byung-cheol was apparently still not okay. And yet, half-flailing as he was, he kept hurling chopsticks — with surprisingly good accuracy.

“——!”

Sensing the danger, the Dark Oublek's form began to crumble bit by bit. Then it grotesquely twisted its body — its shoulder bulged without warning, and dozens of bats burst free and came flying straight at us.

But Han So-mi was not about to wave them through.

“Yap.”

With a light hop, countless lines of light were drawn through the air—

Shrrk-geok!

—and the bats dropped to the floor in sliced pieces.

“——!”

Only then did the Oublek whirl to flee — but its escape routes had already been sealed shut by the Ice Walls. On top of that, I joined in myself, holding it in place with a whirlwind. Above the head of the utterly immobilized monster, the mass of current swelled larger and larger—

BZZZT-ZZT-ZZT—!

—before sending thick bolts of lightning crashing down, one after another.

KRA-KA-KA-BOOM—!

A deafening roar shook the mine as flashes strobed across our vision without pause. By the time the lightning finally subsided, the pitch-black Oublek had been charred blacker still, and black liquid spread limply in every direction.

I walked over to Han So-mi, who was peering down at it in fascination.

“Good work. The Disciplinary Committee really is something else.”

“Mhm! You too!”

After a light high-five, I crouched down beside the black liquid, drew a glass vial from my inventory, and collected a sample. A notification printed itself at once.

The longer I put this off, the better.

Declining now wouldn't make the reward vanish — it would roll over and stack onto the payout of a later quest in the chain. And the more that accumulated, the higher the quality of the eventual reward. So without a moment's hesitation, I selected 'No.'

Song Cheon-hye, meanwhile, apparently labored under similar instructions from the academy, because she came over carrying her own vial. Then, noticing the sample in my hand, she asked:

“Why do you have...?”

“To give it away. Here, take it.”

I'd meant to hand one over anyway. Wavering between doubt and acceptance, Song Cheon-hye took the vial—

The chain quest appeared and completed in the same breath. In a way, the disciplinary punishment had actually made my job easier.

I once again selected 'No' without hesitation, and yet another quest in the chain followed. Its contents weren't much different from the last:

Strictly speaking, every Dark Oublek was the same creature — but the sample it yielded changed depending on what environment it had lived in and what prey it had devoured. And to find more Oubleks, I would naturally have to keep trawling dungeon after dungeon.

As it happens, that works out nicely.

There was still a long, long way left on my punishment anyway.

Rrrrumble...

Just then, everything shuddered as though an earthquake had struck, and the exit yawned open.

I had a feeling this would happen.

Under [Sweep] rules, an Oublek coming ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out to greet us at the dungeon entrance could only mean one thing — there was nothing left to eat. And sure enough, once the monster was dead, not a single creature remained in the mine, and the dungeon pronounced itself cleared. As if to prove the point, several boxes sat waiting at the entrance of the teleport portal.

Shin Byung-cheol tried to sneakily scoop them up, but one frosty look from Song Cheon-hye and his hand retreated at once.

“Ah — no, of course not. You take them, heheh.”

“Rewards will be settled in full once everything is over.”

“Oh, sure, sure. Clean and simple, just how I like it.”

We were in the middle of a punishment detail, after all, and the forces the Disciplinary Committee had deployed to each party were leagues stronger than ours. They could have claimed one hundred percent ownership and we couldn't have voiced a word of protest — yet it seemed they intended to distribute a fixed share anyway. Judging by the eagerness brimming across Shin Byung-cheol's face, it was a good call.

Back outside the dungeon, Song Cheon-hye pulled up the list and deleted number 886. Several parties besides ours had been assigned dungeon clean-up duty, and the list was updated so no one would cross wires. Then she turned on her heel and took the lead.

“Follow me.”

“Yay~.”

The next dungeon sat fairly close by, both in number and in distance.

Shin Byung-cheol planted himself proudly before the portal.

“Guess I'll be doing the scouting this time as well. Thirty seconds—”

“Hold it. Stop right there.”

“Huh?”

But just as he was about to set foot inside, my intervention stopped him cold. I addressed Shin Byung-cheol's puzzled expression.

“This time, you come in last. There's no need to scout.”

“Why not?”

“Something about you draws bad luck.”

Shin Byung-cheol waved the accusation away with a grin.

“Aw, c'mon, there's no such thing as being cursed. I'm a human being, y'know? Anyone can run into a bit of bad luck now and then.”

“Not like this. Yours happens way too often.”

There had been all those teacups he'd racked up as a prospective café owner, for one. And back in the Black Snake Gang raid, he'd gone and stumbled upon White Snake — the hidden boss everyone knew you'd almost never encounter. In the Gathering of Evildoers, the twin demons had abruptly bent their route and run straight into us. Until now I'd chalked all of that up to Go Hyeon-woo's terrible luck — but what if the genuinely unlucky one had been Shin Byung-cheol all along?

“If I send you in first, there's a chance the Oublek gets summoned in there again.”

“Wha— now that's an outrage. Is it really acceptable to gang up on a perfectly innocent man like this?”

“Then let's settle it coolly — majority vote.”

We decided to leave the verdict to the Disciplinary Committee. Song Cheon-hye glanced once at each of us, then spoke.

“It doesn't seem plausible to me either, that he's cursed.”

“Hey, hey, look at that. For once, Song Cheon-hye is on my side.”

Shin Byung-cheol beamed from ear to ear. But Song Cheon-hye wasn't finished.

“That said, scouting itself seems even more useless. All it did was put you in danger alone, for nothing.”

“...”

“You come in last.”

“...”

Shin Byung-cheol fell silent for a moment — then turned hopeful eyes on Han So-mi. There was still a chance the vote could end in a two-two draw, after all. Han So-mi beamed brightly and delivered her verdict.

“Come in last~!”

“Come on, why you too? At least give me a reason.”

“Just because!”

“But—”

Shin Byung-cheol opened his mouth to argue, then — sensing the futility of it — shut it again. He had submitted to the law of the majority.

Apparently deeming the matter settled, Song Cheon-hye gave the word.

“Then we will enter now.”

We stepped onto the teleportation circle one by one. Shin Byung-cheol, naturally, went dead last.

Our view snapped sideways, and we were standing in the middle of a forest. Gaze into the far distance and the terrain rose and dipped in rolling undulations, true to the word 'hill' — though the elevation itself wasn't especially high. It was equally obvious at a glance, however, that this was no ordinary hill—

Fwoosh!

Bzzt!

—because here and there, flames spurted skyward or lightning crackled across the land.

It was the 'Spirit' Hill, after all.

A dungeon where spirits of every attribute bickered and brawled with one another. Its core rule was [Crystal]: you had to seek out the Crystals hidden somewhere within and charge them — shaking off or beating down whatever spirits crossed your path along the way.

Of course, we didn't actually need to clear it.

Our goal, first and foremost, was simply to confirm whether an Oublek had infiltrated this dungeon. Which raised the question of how exactly one went about confirming that.

As if on cue, Song Cheon-hye was holding up a device that looked for all the world like a radar detector.

“That's the one?”

“Yes. I'll be using this.”

Song Cheon-hye activated the detector without delay.

Beeep—

[267] The Support Ate It All