Fame (3)

"Fame, huh..."

Honestly, I wasn't particularly excited about it. If anything, I felt a twinge of worry. I had a feeling it would come with a lot of headaches.

The moment I voiced that thought, Zephyros burst out laughing.

"You only ever say things that don't sound like a total rookie at all. Did you regress or something?"

"Regress?"

"Like, came from the future?"

"Nope. If I had, I'd be living a lot better than this."

"Haha. Fair point."

After laughing for a good while, Zephyros continued breezily.

"So, want an agent, then?"

"Hmm, you mean a hunter agent?"

Most hunters in the top-ranker bracket employed agents. Hunters were busy enough just clearing dungeons — handling every bit of business themselves was simply impossible. That made hunter agents, who took charge of contracts and negotiations in exchange for a percentage cut, one of the most in-demand professions of the modern era.

"Do you have anyone you'd recommend?"

"There are some famous agents out there, but..."

Case in point: Scott Drephis, a name even I — a man with almost zero knowledge of the hunter industry — recognized. It was no exaggeration to say the world's famous high-rankers were nearly all in Scott Drephis's hands. The "Drephis faction" of hunters he represented was treated as the mortal enemy of dungeon development companies, because he bled them for money with almost sadistic ruthlessness. Some of his contracts gave hunters as much as 80% of a dungeon raid's byproducts. The dungeon owner was the company, mind you — they'd be left with a mere 20%. But companies swallowed the bitter pill and handed their raids to the Drephis faction anyway, because even 20% beat letting a dungeon sit idle. And true to his reputation, the faction's raid success rate soared through the roof.

"I'll handle it for you for a while. Free of charge."

"I'm sorry — really?"

By nature, Zephyros had an iron grip on the hunter industry and connections to spare. And he was offering to be my agent — for free, no less.

"Are you sure? I don't mind signing a formal contract, honestly."

I meant it. If it hadn't been for Zephyros, would I ever have come to this quarry in Chungju, taken down the stone golems, and cleared a dungeon certified as unsolvable? I'd probably still have been grinding through whatever other gates I could reach, stuck past the practical level cap of 8. After all, the reason unsolvable dungeons were deemed unsolvable was precisely that the window in which the system's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠level structure allowed you to clear them was so narrow.

Thanks to Zephyros's judgment, in other words, I had reaped an enormous windfall. If I couldn't trust a man with that kind of discernment, who could I trust? Even handing him the most generous agent contract imaginable would have been a bargain.

But at my offer, Zephyros shook his head.

"I'm already tied down as an executive at the company, and my contract forbids side gigs. So let's just call this agent thing... a hobby. I'm rich now anyway."

"...I'm sorry, what?"

"Something like that."

I was still staring at Zephyros's enigmatic smile when my phone started buzzing. Checking the name on the messenger, I winced.

"I, uh, actually have somewhere to be, so I'll head up first."

"Sure, go get some rest."

"Oh — a verbal contract still counts as a contract, right?"

I activated my recording function, brought the phone to my mouth, and murmured:

"I, hunter Kim Se-gyun, hereby grant full authority over my agent contract to Zephyros, Ryu Hyun-soo. May 15, 2024, 6:22 PM."

I sent the recording to Zephyros with a text and shrugged.

"Just handle everything on your end. All I'll do is run."

"You just run, and I'll lay the track?"

"You did say it was free."

An offer like "I'll be your agent for free" — how could I possibly pass that up?

"Then I'll be in your care!"

Leaving a grinning Zephyros behind, I hopped in the car and made a call as I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠drove off.

"Hey, Min-cheol hyung. Have you decided?"

It looked like there was plenty of time left before this day ran out.

The moment Kim Se-gyun's car pulled away, Ryu Hyun-soo's phone rang.

"Hello?"

Se-senior... that message that just popped up...

"What message?"

Don't play dumb, you saw it...

"Oh, that message?"

Ryu Hyun-soo reopened the message window he'd minimized in the corner of his vision.

If simply clearing an "unsolvable" gate had been nothing more than, well, clearing a gate certified unsolvable, public attention wouldn't have ballooned to this degree.

Unsolvable gates were like the last unmarked square in a game of bingo. When every gate in a given region had been cleared, the region received a "Pacification" ruling — monsters weakened, dungeon difficulty dropping across the board. And what was that worth in cold, hard economic terms?

Even a mere 10% weakening meant that, by simple arithmetic, ten hunters' worth of work could be done by nine. At 20%, eight.

For dungeon development companies, that meant staggering savings in labor costs. And was it a bad deal for the hunters? Not exactly — shorter raid times meant more hours free for other work. Either way, Pacification sent massive ripples through a region's entire economy.

But South Korea had unsolvable gates scattered through every region — the so-called "Great Mysteries." One of them had just been resolved.

Good grief, an actual Mystery gate... cleared by hunter Kim Se-gyun?

"Yep. And the sponsorship rights got transferred into my name nice and clean, right?"

...Yes. I don't know how, but the approval came through demonically fast.

"Heh heh. Shin Tae-ho, that bastard — he needs a good kick from the board before he comes to his senses."

Zephyros snickered. It had been a chance to land a sponsorship deal with a rookie of Kim Se-gyun's caliber for a measly billion won — and the CEO had thrown it away not in hours, but in minutes. The board was going to carpet-bomb him for that decision. A dismissal motion might well pass.

"Oh, and how much of my company stock options are left again?"

A little under 100 billion won? All the founding members got allocated about that much.

"And you?"

I'd have around 500 million.

"You haven't sold them?"

Still in the vesting period. Three months left.

"Congratulations."

For what?

"You're about to make money."

...What is that supposed to mean?

"Which company owns the most gates in Chungbuk?"

Huh.

RHS held exclusive rights to 17 of the 53 gates in the Chungbuk region — it was their home turf to begin with. The rest were state-owned or held by other companies, but it was no exaggeration to say the region's prime gates were nearly all in RHS's pocket.

You'd already thought that far ahead?

"Isn't that just the basics? Anyway, thanks to that friend Kim Se-gyun, I'm about to make a whole lot of money."

He'd pulled the sponsorship contract into a personal deal, and the gains exercisable through his stock options were going to be enormous. Stock options were the right to purchase shares at a fixed price — so every rise in the stock price flowed straight into his pocket as the difference.

"So, tell me — what's the market rate on the Understanding of Harmony skill book these days?"

We have one at the office. It won an auction last month at... 12.8 billion, I think?

"Since when did the price climb that high, honestly."

Necromancers are the meta right now. A legendary-grade skill book usable by all magic-type classes? The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠price had to go up.

Ryu Hyun-soo clicked his tongue for a moment, then spoke as if he'd made up his mind.

"Is that one still at the company?"

It is, but our ranker-tier magic hunters have all learned it already. We've been saving it for the newcomers. Wait... you're not planning to give it to Kim Se-gyun, are you?

"Why? Any problem with that?"

Still... he's not even on our roster...

"Tell them I'm courting him. I'll cover half out of my own pocket, and tell them to book the other half as client entertainment expenses."

Um... entertainment expenses?

"CEO Shin crushed the contract, and our hunter here is deeply disappointed. To soothe that disappointment, we'll have to spend a little more money. What can you do?"

At Ryu Hyun-soo's breezily shameless smile, Bae Su-jin was struck speechless, stammering for a good while.

W-will the CEO even approve this...?

"If CEO Shin vetoes it, tell them I'm bringing it to the board as a formal agenda item. And wouldn't you know it, the agenda item about CEO Shin blowing up the sponsorship deal with Kim Se-gyun would naturally come up alongside it."

Uh... I suppose that's true.

"Tell them if they execute without a word, I'll keep my mouth shut about our dear CEO's little blunder. And tell them I'd rather we not make an enemy of each other."

Do you really have to go that far?

"Of course."

He paused, then checked the voice recording Se-gyun had sent — and grinned, finishing the call.

"Because I'm that kid's agent now."

Ryu Hyun-soo's eyes, dull and sluggish for so long, were glinting again — the same fire as Zephyros in his prime, the man who had once conquered dungeons.

Min-cheol hyung gave me the green light in the end. What finally broke the last of his hesitation was me showing him the account where a billion won had just landed. At the very least, neither of us would be worrying about salary for a while.

"Great, hyung. Then contact the client companies and tell them we'll handle everything at half price."

Half price? Half?! What's even left after that? You wouldn't cover the cost of running the incinerator.

"I've got my ways. And honestly, that's the minimum it takes to pull the contracts away. We have to factor in breach-of-penalty costs, remember?"

As a subcontractor, the penalty clauses on contract termination couldn't be set very high — but they did exist. We'd need to offer enough upside to swallow the penalty and still come out ahead before we could pry the contracts away from Hanyoung Systems, my employer up until yesterday.

"Especially Seongkwang Bio, Jinwoong Pharma, Jokwang Pharma, Unmi Pharma, and Guseongdang — we absolutely have to land those five. We can do those at 30%."

Thirty? No way. I'm getting at least 50, guaranteed.

"Haha, fair enough."

Those five companies were the flagship domestic firms buying Luminarion carcasses from France, extracting the raw material, and producing generic Elixir. Which meant they were exactly the places dumping the leftover pellets — the waste remaining after extracting the elixir — as industrial refuse. Without contracts with them, all we'd earn was pocket change on routine waste disposal.

That wrapped things up with Min-cheol hyung. The next call was the critical one...

Lim Gyuseon's reply was taking longer than I'd expected. Was she turning me down?

Would I have to look for someone else? Though it didn't seem easy to find anyone better than her.

I was still mulling it over when my phone buzzed, the name Lim Gyuseon glowing on the screen. I let out a breath of relief and picked up.

"Hello?"

S-sorry, am I late? I overslept...

"Not at all. You're right on time. Shall I come to you?"

Oh, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wouldn't that be a bother...?

"It's fine. I was headed that way anyway."

Then come to the front of my building. Park in the complex and we can grab a coffee nearby.

"Will do."

It seemed like I'd be able to recruit this one too.

And that was the exact moment it happened.

By the way, this is strange... there's a system message floating right in front of me... and your name's in it, Se-gyun... Stage 3 gate... first-ever...?

"...You're an Awakened?"

That was something I hadn't known. I'd naturally assumed she was unawakened.

Yes, I'm an alchemist. My level isn't anything special, though.

"!"

Alchemist was one of the very few classes that synergized with modern science. And a scientist capable enough to graduate from MIT had awakened as one, on top of everything else?

I had never intended to let this one slip away — but now it was crystal clear.

This person. I had to bring her in. No matter what.