The Unsetting Sun

A full month had passed since Jeon Jaewoo's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠awakening.

With the turning of the calendar came the emergence of new ruins across the globe. Right on schedule, the Ruin System published the national conquest rankings for the month.

The European Union took first place. The United States claimed second. South Korea surged into third, edging out China in fourth.

Having successfully captured three Legendary-grade ruins, South Korea had pulled off an astonishing third-place finish. For context, ruin conquest rankings functioned much like an Olympic medal table: no matter how many Normal or Rare-grade ruins a nation conquered, a single Legendary-grade conquest carried vastly more weight in the final tally.

Naturally, public reception was explosive.

Japan, on the other hand, had failed to secure a single Legendary-grade ruin that month. By sheer misfortune, the exact Legendary ruin their strike teams had spent weeks scouting—the Grave of Swords—had been snatched and conquered in minutes by Jeon Jaewoo. As public outrage over administrative incompetence boiled over, the Japanese government was practically choking on its own humiliation.

South Korea was the complete opposite. In addition to the two Legendary-grade ruins Jaewoo had cleared, the nation managed to conquer one more on its own, finishing with three Legendary clears and seizing third place on the global leaderboard.

In a press conference, Kim Yumin openly stated that she had been able to breach her assigned Legendary-grade ruin with relative ease thanks to an extraordinary suit of armor obtained from another ruin. She expressed her heartfelt gratitude to the anonymous hunter who had provided it. Furthermore, the elite assault team deployed alongside her had been armed with the mystical blades Jaewoo had handed over, causing their collective combat efficiency to skyrocket beyond all projections.

Riding the wave of this stellar report card, Commissioner Yoo Jeongtae wasted no time calling Jaewoo.

"Thank you, Hunter-nim," Yoo Jeongtae said, his voice trembling with reverent awe. "On behalf of the Hunter Administration—no, on behalf of the entire Republic of Korea—I offer you my deepest, most sincere gratitude."

"Did I really do all that much?" Jaewoo asked mildly. "I just handed over a few spare items."

"Those items directly enabled us to conquer another Legendary-grade ruin! That victory belongs entirely to you, Hunter-nim."

"In that case, when can I expect the payment for those items? My living expenses are running completely dry."

"Ah! The settlement! I will have the wire transfer processed this very instant! We've been so swamped preparing the ruin expeditions that I neglected it. Please forgive me!"

Roughly an hour later, Jaewoo's phone chimed with a bank deposit notification.

With trembling fingers, he tapped open his banking app. Just how much had they credited him? This was the combined payout for the Pitch-Black Armor of the Knight King, over a hundred magical blades harvested from the Grave of Swords, and the pure gold excavated from the Golden Palace.

The moment the balance refreshed on his screen, Jaewoo's breath hitched. He nearly tipped backward out of his chair.

The figure sitting in his checking account was comfortably north of one trillion won.

Wait. Am I hallucinating? Did I miscount the zeroes?

He had transferred invaluable resources from Legendary-grade ruins, so he had certainly expected more than a hundred billion. But an entire trillion? No matter how many times he counted the digits, the balance remained unchanged. It felt completely surreal.

"The displayed sum indeed exceeds one trillion won, Creator," Myeolgeop stated, its mechanical voice perfectly steady.

Only after Myeolgeop—whose analytical calculations were infallible—verified the numbers did the reality finally sink in.

Even then, this staggering windfall was not the full extent of his compensation. The Pitch-Black Armor of the Knight King accounted for roughly one trillion won on its own, while the enchanted swords and the massive haul of solid gold from the palace pushed the total well past 1.2 trillion won. On top of that, Yoo Jeongtae had used his executive authority as Commissioner to grant Jaewoo an unprecedented suite of administrative privileges.

First was an absolute tax exemption, freeing Jaewoo from any tariffs, sales taxes, or administrative fees whenever he liquidated ruin resources to the state. Second was an open logistics requisition pass, allowing him to mobilize Hunter Administration personnel and transport fleets to clear out resources from his conquered ruins free of charge. And to cap it all off, a jaw-dropping monthly state pension had been attached to his account.

Given that the Knight King's armor alone was realistically worth multiple trillions on the global black market, such treatment was well within reason. Depositing multiple trillions in liquid cash all at once would have triggered severe economic and institutional complications, so the government had compensated him through a blend of direct funds and extraordinary systemic perks.

Of course, for Jaewoo right now, just seeing twelve digits sitting in his personal bank balance was enough to turn his knees to jelly.

Holy crap. This is insane.

Was an ordinary civilian even allowed to possess this much liquid capital in a single bank account?

Jaewoo glanced over at the Elder Lich lounging nearby. "Lich. Feel free to use your traits inside the apartment whenever you want."

"Hoh? Truly? Thou art permitting me such freedom?" the skeletal sorcerer asked, his jawbones clattering with dry amusement.

"Of course. Why should I worry about minor repair bills on a rented studio?"

With this much money overflowing from his pockets, why subject himself or his summons to unnecessary stress? Holding back over a few scuffed floorboards was pointless.

What should I even do with all this? I guess moving into a real house comes first.

After turning over several ideas in his head, Jaewoo dialed his parents' home. After a couple of rings, his father picked up.

"Hello?"

"Dad? It's me."

"Jaewoo? Why the sudden call in the middle of the day? Did you run out of living money again?"

"Come on, Dad, I'm a grown man. I don't call just to beg for pocket change. Something wonderful happened, so I wanted to share the news."

"Good news? Did you finally land a job somewhere?"

"No. Way better than getting a job."

"Better than finding employment? Don't tell me you won the lottery?"

The lottery. Awakening a Transcendent-grade trait was arguably a trillion times more lucrative than hitting any jackpot on Earth. He decided to leave the intricate details for later.

"Dad, how much is left on the home mortgage?"

"About twenty million won. We'll have it paid off soon enough. Why bring that up out of nowhere?"

"I'll pay it off for you. And I'm going to start sending a generous monthly allowance, so you and Mom can quit working and relax."

There was a beat of dead silence on the other end of the line. Then, his father's voice exploded through the speaker.

"You foolish punk! Whether you found a job or won a scratcher, someone your age should be saving every penny! How could you even think about throwing money around like that?!"

Well, Jaewoo thought dryly, he had earned enough to comfortably sustain three generations of idle luxury without making a dent in his principal.

"No, wait, Dad, forget the mortgage. How about I just buy a brand-new house and move you both into it? A south-facing high-rise with a gorgeous view—"

"……"

His father went completely quiet again.

"Dad?"

When his father spoke again, his tone was laden with profound, paternal dread.

"Son… did you get hurt somewhere? Did you hit your head? Do you need me to drive you to the hospital?"

"……"

Jaewoo gave up and tried calling his mother shortly afterward, but the result was even worse.

"You little rascal! What kind of nonsense are you babbling in broad daylight?! Have you lost your mind?!"

The sound of phantom slaps to his back echoed so vividly through the receiver that Jaewoo hastily hung up.

…Right. I'll just buy the deed first and bring them over in person.

The very day after the final rankings were published, the new roster of monthly ruins was unveiled.

The moment the announcement materialized, the entire world drew a collective, sharp breath.

An Ancient-grade ruin had appeared.

South Korean media flooded the airwaves with nonstop coverage regarding the Ancient-grade emergence.

An Ancient-grade ruin…

To claim Jaewoo wasn't tempted would be a flat-out lie. But superpowers across the world would undoubtedly be setting their sights on it. In truth, every country coveted it; most simply lacked the raw military power to make a move.

Which superpower would claim ownership of that ruin this month?

Of course, this wasn't the only Ancient-grade ruin in existence. While Legendary-grade ruins were typically cleared out every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠month without fail, a handful of uncleared Ancient-grade ruins remained stagnant across the globe. But there were good reasons why they had been left untouched. Even premier hunter superpowers struggled to conquer them due to lethal environmental hazards or bizarre boss mechanics. Mythic-grade ruins, naturally, were in a league of impossibility so absolute they weren't even brought up in polite conversation.

Regardless, a pristine, unexplored Ancient ruin had just dropped into the pool. Unless severe complications arose, global powers would fight tooth and nail to secure it.

For the record, Ancient ruins had never been South Korea's objective. No matter how much prep time was granted, South Korea's active hunter strength fell catastrophically short of the threshold required for an Ancient clear. Under normal circumstances, this conquest would become a three-way tug-of-war between the European Union, China, and India—nations that possessed vast legions of awakened combatants to match their populations. Even top-tier superpowers like the United States and Japan only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠poked at Ancient ruins on rare occasions.

And here, in a humble studio apartment on the Korean peninsula, a twenty-six-year-old youth was staring intently at that very ruin.

The Unsetting Sun.

The moniker alone gave no indication of what horrors or trials lay within.

Don't tell me we're supposed to fight an actual star.

Neither Myeolgeop nor the Elder Lich could decipher the ruin's internal ecosystem until they stepped foot past the threshold. Curiosity gnawed at Jaewoo's mind until he finally muttered his thoughts aloud.

"…What do you think? Should we just pop in, take a quick peek, and step right back out?"

He had promised Commissioner Yoo Jeongtae that he would notify the Hunter Administration before attempting any Ancient-grade ruins. But surely there was no harm in sticking his head through the door just to see what it looked like.

At Jaewoo's tentative inquiry, Myeolgeop answered without hesitation.

"If that is what the Creator desires, conducting a brief reconnaissance would not be ill-advised."

"Are you sure? You were pretty worried about me entering an Ancient ruin earlier."

"With the Elder Lich accompanying us, we can ensure the Creator's absolute protection. I foresee no critical hazards."

The Elder Lich clicked his jaw in an eerie chuckle, nodding his skeletal head. "Indeed! Beside a golem of this caliber, even an Ancient-grade domain poseth little genuine peril."

To earn praise from an ancient undead archmage, Myeolgeop was truly an extraordinary creation. Perhaps due to its mechanical nature, Myeolgeop paid little heed to anything beyond its Creator. When the Elder Lich had first materialized, the golem hadn't reacted in the slightest.

The Elder Lich, conversely, scrutinized Myeolgeop with unbridled fascination. It wasn't hostility or camaraderie, but the manic curiosity of an eccentric researcher who had stumbled upon an impossible prototype. Still, so long as Jaewoo remained their anchor, neither summon would ever act against the other.

"Alright," Jaewoo resolved, a grin tugging at his lips. "Let's go take a look."

It was strictly scouting. Just checking the terrain, nothing more.

Connecting his consciousness to the Ruin System interface, Jeon Jaewoo initiated transit into the Ancient-grade ruin: The Unsetting Sun.