Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Dice Gimmick
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Pressing buttons in a specific order, or there being special rules to grab the core protecting the Erosion Core—stuff like that. All of it lumped together is called a gimmick.
The word “gimmick” is used differently abroad originally, but in Korea, it comes from game strategy guides for boss raids.
And since Korea leads the world in Erosion Core hunts, everyone globally uses "gimmick" just for Erosion Core clears, in the Korean sense.
Grade 2s might have them, might not. But from Grade 1 up, they always do—that was Han Sang-ah's explanation.
"You didn't graduate the Academy, but you had the guide on your smartphone, right?"
"That 1,500-page monster? I read it, but I don't remember squat."
Good lord, if I had the talent to read that and memorize it all, I'd have taken the civil service exam and become a Grade 5 bureaucrat instead.
Anyway, taking Han Sang-ah's advice to heart, I hurled myself into the hole leading to the Erosion Core.
The moment I entered, I came face-to-face with that gimmick thing she'd mentioned.
"What the hell is this?"
A dice face was tattooed on the back of my hand. And the tattoo was rolling around on my skin like it was alive, periodically changing to different numbers.
"So, what the hell am I supposed to do with this?"
Then monsters appeared before me, right on cue.
"What fantastic getups."
They were essentially corpses. Bodies with chonmage—the samurai-style half-bald topknots—wearing men's kimonos dripping with rotten corpse juice, gripping swords in both hands as they approached me.
"And what's with those teeth? Should've laid off the candy."
Their gaping mouths were packed with pitch-black, decayed teeth.
Setting aside their bizarre outfits, numbers floated above their heads. I had a pretty good idea what to do. For a gimmick, it was surprisingly straightforward.
To test my guess, when my hand showed a 3, I deliberately thrust my spear into the chest of a monster with a 6.
The spear sliced right through it like it hit nothing.
"Number matching, huh."
You couldn't land effective hits on the monsters unless you attacked when the numbers matched. But...
I raised my spear to block its counterattack, and the impact transmitted clear and sharp.
"What a punk-ass thug."
Looks like only I had to match numbers to attack. Loneliness seeped into my bones.
"Hey, this gimmick won't burn easy."
I had no feel for how intensely I'd have to amp up Paradox Flame to burn this thing.
Back in the day, I'd burned pretty much everything except stupid concepts like time and space. So was this gimmick on that level of unburnable?
"Fine, come at me."
About five corpse samurai crept forward gripping their katanas, then charged with eerie yells.
"...This is a blessing in disguise."
Coming in blind would've been a nightmare. If my wrist number didn't match theirs, I couldn't attack at all—couldn't even stick Paradox Flame on them easily.
Kim Ji-hyun, right? If I hadn't tauted up my meridians fighting that Taekwon Piercing guy, I'd have had to brace for half-death at least.
"Even as corpses, they handle the sword well."
I'd already timed it. My forearm number changed exactly every 15 seconds. Their half-bald samurai heads shifted every 3 seconds.
"One down."
Paradox Flame flared perfectly on the shoulder of a matching one. The numbers changed right after, but the flame kept burning without snuffing out.
So effective hits let follow-up effects persist. Makes sense—otherwise, changing dice would heal wounds too.
"At least a shred of conscience... Lucky break!"
At this point, smashing five corpses was no big deal. They shattered in seconds.
With a pop, a head tore off under my kick, flames engulfing the rest. Meanwhile, I eyed the massive castle in the distance.
"What floor is that?"
It looked insanely far, yet visible from here.
Perfect match for the classic Japanese castle image. Roofed pervs in masks ninja-ing around, geishas with white makeup plucking shamisen...
"What was it called? Himeji?"
Some half-remembered scrap from somewhere.
"There is an easy way to lose big."
Grab a nearby boulder, coat it in Paradox Flame, hurl it at the castle. At this output, I could infuse durability too.
Then let it spread wild like wildfire, burning the whole castle and every scrap of durability in this Erosion Core.
Their flesh and guts would melt like summer ice cream at room temp, bones snapping in a breeze.
Sounds great, but... Paradox Flame that huge would be impossible for me to control. I'd burn everything without picking targets.
"Could land me on public indecency charges."
Uncontrolled Paradox Flame spares only its owner. So my spear, gifted shoulder guard, all my gear's durability—poof.
"No reason to do it now."
My current gear was tough but nothing special... except these gloves. Waste.
And that's not all.
"My rewards for clearing the Erosion Core would burn too."
Even if I destroyed it, with all internal durability aflame, Paradox Flame would jump straight to my loot.
"...If no other way, I'll use it then."
Easy clears cost me too much.
"Easy roads always do."
Grade 3s were small inside, so burning vitality worked fine and spread. But this was too vast for just mobile concepts like vitality or muscle power.
Looked about reinforcement size.
Clack. Slinging my spear over my shoulder, I headed for the castle.
"..."
Surprisingly few monsters en route. The castle itself was utterly empty. No sounds, nothing in sight.
If my senses caught zilch, for this grade Erosion Core, it meant the place was genuinely vacant.
"That hooded uniform guy wasn't bullshitting."
They'd succeeded in controlling it. Dragged all monsters out to attack Japan, maybe.
Otherwise, no guards for the Erosion Core? Weird. I sprinted up to the top.
Sliding open the door, I found a flickering few candles illuminating an old man in armor, kneeling. His helmet sat beside his knee.
Marudōyoro, was it? The one Koreans call "rotating back armor." Just the flashy samurai armor that comes to mind.
"Hey, old timer, kids all gone this late night? Guarding the house solo?"
Even at his age, he wore a dog-collar choker. Magic-infused, blatantly out of place design.
Insanely complex structure— no clue how it worked. Dan-gun's descendants slap these on for control?
"Who are you?"
Unlike the others, a normal human voice. But dark tone. Can't blame him with that collar.
A square fire pit was dug in the floor before his spot.
"Wondered what you did with the captives. This it?"
A drum-sized cauldron bubbled over the flames. Human legs and heads poking out turned my stomach.
"Human sacrifice."
Unlike his choker, I analyzed its purpose instantly. Well-crafted too.
"Stuff people in, and corpses from this huge tomb rise?"
"Corpses? Loyal retainers who swore to fight and die for me, serving even in death."
Sneering at the rising old man, I replied.
"Fine, loyal corpse retainers. Happy? Serving their collared master to the grave—pitiful lot."
He listened stone-faced, then donned his helmet and stood. In that instant, I felt his killing intent crash over me.
"Take up your weapon. Your rudeness will rust my blade."
I dropped the playful expression. This was no joke. Grade 2 Erosion Core core? Hair-raising threat.
This guy's the real deal.
"They subdued this beast alive and collared him."
Hood guy's skill wasn't that level. Killing? Sure. Capturing alive? Different story.
That bow punk wasn't near that strong. Twenty years ago, maybe.
"Insult demands death."
No number above his head. Gimmick didn't apply.
"Shut up and draw."
Unlike before, dead serious, I readied my stance.
"Very well."
As he reached for his helmet, I launched my attack.
"Krrgh."
My swung spear met his instantly drawn blade, then bounced off like I'd hit something else.
"You know no honor."
Black energy flowed mist-like along his sword. Faintly, child's cries, burning crackles, crumbling buildings echoed in my ears.
This fight needs full power. Even then, survival's iffy. Probably dying.
"Try this blade."
His sword closed in instantly.
That skill and power meant at least eight links in a blink. I coated my spear in Paradox Flame, bracing.
First strike. Deflected, but shock rippled through me.
Second. Blocked again, hand shaking from the transmitted force.
Third. Dodged, but stance crumbled. Expected a crisis here.
Fourth incoming. Couldn't block from this position.
I gritted my teeth, envisioning the flow. Can't deflect? Minimize impact.
"...?"
But his assault was simple. Laughably idiotic.
I dove aside, and with a slash, sword pressure swept my spot. Pathetically easy dodge.
Fast, strong—that's it. No combos, first strike so basic I wondered if I missed something.
No way...
"Not bad."
Astounded, I stared him down.
"What the hell are we even doing here?"
A few more exchanges followed.
"Amnesia? Who are you?"
At first, I thought he was going easy. But no.
"...In resurrection, much of my living memory faded."
"Ah, gotcha."
Finally, I found some breathing room.