Stage 11 (1)

Being a CEO meant the work never stopped.

Even after tackling the big items first, the pile showed no sign of shrinking. The CEO of the company I used to work ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for seemed to do nothing but laze around and eat all day — so why was it like this now that I was the one in the chair?

One of today's tasks was renegotiating with the Fisherman's Club.

Sailors are a rough bunch. Blunt, maybe even violent and simple-minded, you might think. The hunters of the marine hunters' guild, the Fisherman's Club, were no different.

"Now hold on, old man. That's settled in court, we ain't talkin' about it. We did nothin' wrong, I tell ya!"

I nodded toward the guild master, who was throwing his weight around in a thick Busan accent.

"That's right."

"Right, exactly... huh? What'd you say?"

"You're correct. Guild Master, sir. The guild did nothing wrong."

"...Then why'd you come here?"

"The owner changed, so the contract needs renegotiating."

Only then did he catch on to my intent, and his expression turned haughty in an instant.

"Renegotiate? What renegotiatin'? Not a snowball's chance in hell!"

"Now, now, calm down and just listen."

Why do people refuse to hear you out?

"Guild Master, let's be honest here. Is there anywhere else in the guild that gets work this regularly? No, right?"

"......"

I'd already done my homework through the anonymous hunter communities before coming. The forums were full of guild members grumbling that their boss had picked a fight and torched a client who used to hand out steady work.

"Do you know why I'm really here? I'm offering you a chance."

"What kinda nonsense is that?"

The guild master's brow furrowed instantly. I didn't let that slip by.

"Look at this."

It was a video. Footage of the re-clear of the Lake of the Sawtooth Ichthyosaurs.

Naturally, you can't bring modern electronics into a dungeon, but magical items crafted from dungeon materials were fair game. I'd borrowed a recording charm from Zephyros to film it. As a bonus, I hit Level 11 in the process, and since I'd done it once before, I was familiar with the layout and cleared it far faster.

The guild master watched the video for a long while, then muttered with a dazed expression.

"Th-that's... insane."

He was a guild master, after all — a grizzled veteran hunter — so he could tell at a glance how extraordinary what I'd shown him was. Especially a water-focused hunter; they'd know the true value better than anyone.

Why does 'marine hunter' exist as a separate category? Because most mages and inspectors struggle to perform underwater. And yet I hadn't even set foot in the water — I'd solved it from the outside with a snap of my fingers.

"Guild Master, if it were you — same price — would you entrust the job to the guild, or to this guy?"

No need to mention that the guy in the video was me, right? It was first-person footage, so naturally my face never appeared.

"W-well, that's..."

"Honestly, just go with him. His rates are reasonable too. So why did I come all this way? I came to save your face, Guild Master. And this is how you treat me? I'm hurt, honestly."

"Is that so..."

As the guild master sighed, I caught the faint murmur: 'Where the hell do you even find a monster like that...'

"Of course. As impressive as he is, Seil Pharmaceuticals' original partner is the Fisherman's Club, isn't it? Even though I just acquired the company, loyalty matters. Sailors are all about loyalty, aren't they?"

"That's right."

Though, to be fair, it was their side that had tossed that loyalty aside like a rag and thrown the tantrum first.

"So, what'll it be? Switch partners? Or keep the existing contract rates?"

Even after cornering him this far, what he'd ultimately secured was the existing contract — which naturally put a crack in his standing as guild master. I understood his hesitation, so I sent him the recorded footage.

"Show them this, and the members will understand. Why you had to do this."

"Whew... fine, fine."

And with that, the negotiation between CEOs was over. Details like how many hunters to dispatch and when were matters for the working staff. With the talks concluded, I stood to shake hands lightly and head out —

"By the way, who is that monster anyway? I've been eating from the sea since the first generation, and I've never seen anything like him, I tell ya."

The question came from behind my back. That guy is standing right in front of you, you know.

I smirked and answered.

"Who knows? He's not the type who likes to reveal himself."

The negotiation with the Fisherman's Club had gone smoothly, and mass production of the Power Q Elixir had begun. But there was one big problem.

No matter how good the product, word of mouth alone could only sell so much — we needed an advertising budget. And the company had no money for advertising.

What remained was my personal fortune of 2 billion won plus roughly 5 billion left over from my loan from Zephyros — and once you subtracted months of employee salaries, raw materials, equipment upgrades, and bank interest... there wasn't even enough left to eat and die on.

"This is a problem."

I couldn't go begging to Zephyros again. A cheat code is fine once or twice, but keep using it and people curse you.

So what could I sell for money? My chest was already spoken for. An arm, maybe? A thigh?

"...Wait a second."

I didn't actually need to sell anything to anyone.

"If I clear an 11th-stage impossible dungeon and promote the Power Q Elixir while doing it..."

That alone would generate promotional effect worth at least tens of billions of won. Granted, it required actually clearing an 11th-stage impossible dungeon... but I was planning to do that anyway, and if it solved the advertising problem too, so much the better.

At this point, there was only one thing to do.

The Jeju Island dungeon. I really had to clear it.

Having made up my mind, I called Zephyros.

"The Jeju dungeon. I'm going today."

He's insane.

"...50 billion isn't water, that's fire. Fire."

Good grief, this reckless old man. What exactly was he trusting when he threw down a hundred billion?

Still, it had dropped, so I felt a little tempted. Should I put in a bit of my personal fortune?

While I was mulling it over, Zephyros's voice turned serious.

The problem was, that phase was said to open only for those qualified to clear it. In other words, even if an overleveled high-ranker barged in and steamrolled every golem, they couldn't proceed to the next phase.

Someone qualified from the start — that is, among hunters Level 16 or below, not a single person had even cleared the golem phase.

The memory of nearly dying at the 3rd-stage gate still popped up unbidden. Thanks to that experience, I probably wouldn't let my guard down inside a gate again...

"If it gets bad, I'll just run."

As expected, risking my life on a clear didn't suit my personality. I preferred to cut my losses and just click away from the back. If only everything were as easy as the Ichthyosaur Lake.

Carrying these thoughts with me, I drove to Gimpo Airport.

I flew to Jeju Airport and picked up a rental car. Zephyros had offered to assign me a guide, but I declined — it felt like unnecessary pressure. I wasn't a three-year-old, and this was an era where a map app got you anywhere.

Parking the car and walking a short distance, I arrived at the gate entrance on the slopes of Mt. Halla. As with all gates judged impossible to clear, danger and warning signs were plastered everywhere. I ignored them all cleanly and entered.

After walking a little way in, the pockmarked basalt rocks intertwined and formed the shape of a golem. The face really did have a certain Dol hareubang — Jeju's stone grandfather statue — vibe to it.

Against golems, this was the perfect tool. I drew the staff I'd been carrying ready and pointed it at the golem's feet.

The golem, about to take a step while blasting out its mana resonance with a resounding hum, collapsed straight into the ground. The thud shook the earth, and rising dust ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠clouded my vision. Unit 1s spread out toward the fallen golem.

Even better, this golem was made of hole-riddled basalt, so my units didn't even need to drill through solid rock to reach its core. Burrowing in through the holes, the Unit 1s decomposed the life stone in less than a second. With its life stone gone, the golem could no longer produce its mana resonance or move — just a pile of rock.

"As effective as expected."

I briefly bound the golem's sluggish feet with Unit 2s, then finished it off with Unit 1s. A simple combat approach, but against golems it was even more efficient. And as I felled golems and pressed forward, the central plaza appeared.

"Eight golems spawn here all at once, right?"

One from each of the passages I hadn't entered. Facing eight golems simultaneously was a tall order even for high-rankers. It was fortunate that the basalt golems here weren't particularly sturdy, but eight was still a lot.

Just as the high-rankers' after-reports said, from the nine passages leading into the central plaza, golems began walking out one by one from every passage except mine.

Unfortunately for the golems — and fortunately for me — the plaza was far too wide, and the golems were far too slow. The Unit 1s I'd pre-deployed in all directions slipped into the basalt's holes and hunted for cores. Soon, almost in unison, the life stones were destroyed —

and all eight golems collapsed at once.

"Oh."

The level-up was welcome, but finally — proficiency. Now I could maintain two types of bacteria without the staff, and with it, even a third type, Unit 3. And what was this "temporary strengthening"? I wanted to test it.

With a rumbling roar, an altar appeared before me. For the first time in history, Phase 2 of this dungeon had opened... and yet...

What was that?

A single small vial, like a potion, sat all alone on the altar.

"Whoa. Three thousand percent fire resistance — I could jump into a pit of fire and survive."

It was a shame it was a one-time potion lasting only five minutes. Still, things like this always come in handy eventually. If my house caught fire, it'd save my life, wouldn't it? Or before that, surviving against fire-type monsters...

"What?"

As if it had heard me, the system message popped up out of nowhere — and as I looked around, the basalt golems I'd felled were bubbling and melting down all over again. Soon — drip, drip — golems began slowly rising, shedding molten lava.

Should I call that fortunate? Not every golem had re-melted.

Only a single golem rose in lava form.

The problem was that even that single golem's presence was overwhelming. But basalt... basalt is rock formed from rapidly cooled lava. Because it cooled so fast, the escaping gas left behind those distinctive holes. Which meant, if the cooled golem reclaimed its original form...

It would become a lava golem...!

One problem, though.

Could bacteria survive inside lava?

My bacterial legion, still ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠scattered from the golems I hadn't yet recalled, burned away instantly on the lava-melted golem.

"Damn it. Of course not."

Why is there never an easy way? Undead bacteria or not, they were fundamentally organisms made of organic matter. Utterly vulnerable to fire. And of all things, what suddenly pops out is a fire-related monster?

Did I have any way to deal with that thing with my current abilities?

At that very moment, the lava golem swung its arm, and every passage except the single one it was blocking was sealed off with lava. The passages hardened instantly into thick layers of rock. Even drilling through those with Unit 1s would take considerable time. Worse, they were still half-molten — I'd have to wait for them to cool before I could even deploy bacteria. Escaping through a sealed passage was effectively impossible.

"If my ability can't handle it, the answer is just chug the potion and run, huh."

Drinking the Essence of the Volcano and fleeing through the one open passage would guarantee survival. But that would end any hope of clearing it. Fixed-reward items like this don't respawn after the first claim. Even if I re-entered, the Essence of the Volcano would never appear again. The risk was far too great.

"It's obviously a potion placed there to be used when breaking this thing. And they want me to clear it without even that?"

It came down to two choices: give up, drink the potion, and run — or fight and carve out a path. At the crossroads of that decision, something came to mind.

Could it work?

The lava golem was already approaching, slow but steady. I had no time to stretch out my deliberation.

"Ah, screw it!"

And then — something seemed to have taken the bait.