Footsteps of the White Whale

Roger's outward appearance, surprisingly like a grizzled veteran of countless battles for a guild master, didn't come with overwhelmingly high stats.

At this level, he wasn't far off from me even with full buffs. Was it because of his age that his stats had declined? Even with the precise metrics of the Status Window right in front of me, I couldn't underestimate the guild master. I knew full well that raw combat power wasn't just about stats.

But the stat distribution... it's a bit weird?

One anomalous part among the stats caught my eye. Not the two-digit Charm score. Sure, he had an appearance that was as repulsive as—or worse than—my old ugly self. Still, I judged 11 Charm as normal. Charm stats didn't just measure good looks, after all. Back in Terraforming seven years prior, Gerard with over 200 Charm wasn't any more handsome than me, right? With that level of hideous scarring, a negative stat wouldn't have been surprising, but those scars carried a certain "charisma." In fact, Mel standing beside me seemed slightly intimidated by him.

It was different from my old self, who had been nothing but fat and ugly with zero redeeming qualities. The stat that felt off to me was something else.

Compared to the average of Strength, Agility, and Vitality, his Technique is barely half?

A Technique stat of 16. Abysmally low. Far below not just Chris and Janet, but even mine. Technique rises through training martial arts like swordsmanship or fisticuffs. No way a mercenary guild master hadn't picked up at least one martial art...

I pondered how such an imbalance could occur. What led me to the answer was the trait info window that popped up right after the Status Window.

I didn't know the guild master's detailed life story. The original novel was told from Mel's first-person perspective, so I only knew what she would learn in the future.

I'd just been intrigued by the fact that this guild master had a shockingly striking appearance. Plus, with the nickname "Immortal," I figured he must have some useful skills.

That expectation grew even more after seeing his face. He just looked like someone with an extraordinary ace up his sleeve.

Was I wrong? Hmm... doesn't seem like he has any special martial skills...

Just reading this trait sketched out the guild master's past life in broad strokes—the countless scars etched into his body and the reason he was still alive.

I didn't know if it was his nature, but this man probably had little attachment to life. The trait's persistence proved it.

So, how did he fight?

"Captain Janet. When the guild master fights... does he go for trades like bone for bone?"

"You... heard that rumor too? N-No way, right? Uncle hasn't been on the front lines in years. That rumor faded ages ago..."

"The guild master... is a really scary type to face. No one wants mutual destruction with the enemy, so they'd pull back to avoid the loss."

"...How did you know?"

I flashed a soft smile, like I'd nailed the answer and was pleased about it.

The guild master raised his right hand to scratch his head. His expression suggested he was digging through buried memories.

Scratch, scratch.

"You... did we meet on a battlefield a few years back where I was?"

"I'm Park Chanyoung. And no, first time meeting. As you can see, neither of us has a face you'd forget easily after one glance."

Janet and the guild master's faces turned baffled at my words. Not because I'd said it was our first meeting.

They looked weirded out for a different reason.

"Hah. You too, with that head of yours... not a normal guy, huh. Were you just indirectly calling yourself handsome?"

"Uncle, that's a guy who thinks he's objectively assessing himself."

"...What if I think I'm ugly?"

"Means you know your place."

"Fuckin' hell! Goddamn looks-ism!"

Pfft. Heh heh...

Mel, who'd been tense during their banter, burst into laughter. She desperately turned her head ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and clamped her mouth shut—apparently aware that laughing outright would be rude.

Fortunately, Mel seemed relaxed now. Her laugh didn't cause any issues.

That little exchange with Janet had been to loosen Mel ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up.

After arriving on the fourth floor of the mercenary guild, Chris and I blended into the vibe without issue... but Mel couldn't.

Janet had noticed Mel's stiffness. She'd called us here to tease us a bit, after all.

I picked up on it and helped the troubled Janet out.

Our eyes met briefly.

I nodded slightly, gesturing toward Mel holding back her laughter. Only then did she realize I'd been helping her. Her eyes widened more than when she'd been baffled at me earlier.

Mission accomplished, anyway. I was about to play up my humble image when...

"Haha! I meant my black hair and black eyes."

"Bullshit. Your face was screaming 'I'm hot.' Hey, money ghost, is this guy really a monk? Aren't priests all supposed to be benevolent and humble?"

No dice. My confident expression to bait the misunderstanding had landed too well.

"I-I'm not sure about that one either... He seems knowledgeable, but no sense of purity or sanctity? If anything, he feels too sharp?"

"Too sharp?"

"Yeah. Like... he knows women well. Y'know, a thug monk?"

"Thug monk? What bullshit is that? Like an undead with a boner?"

"...Uncle, please don't pull that crap outside. It's embarrassing for the Sky Mountains Mercenaries."

The commotion died down after one round. The room's atmosphere softened, signaling a topic shift.

With the stage set, I tried to transition smoothly, but the guild master wouldn't let it go. He asked again how I knew his fighting style.

Well... no reason I can't answer.

I had plenty of excuses. Link his excessive scars to his nickname and guess, or pretend I gleaned it from his eyes or imagined battle scenarios from his wounds to sound insightful.

The guild master eyed me curiously.

I smoothly spun one of those fresh excuses without a hint of suspicion. Everyone, Mel included, nodded in impressed agreement.

Funny thing—Chris bought it too. She knew better than anyone that I lacked the battle experience to deduce a stranger's style from scars alone.

Probably her faith in me mixed with rose-tinted glasses.

I opened his skill window and confirmed he had none. I couldn't say for sure, but I vaguely understood why his Technique was low.

Martial arts evolve from number games—blocking anticipated strikes, baiting hands to off-target spots, dismantling defenses through invisible exchanges.

But the guild master's style? Charge in with a "bone for bone" mindset. No wonder Technique didn't grow smoothly.

"Oh, right—we haven't done intros yet. In order: Mel, new to White Whale; Chris Bennett; and..."

"Park Chanyoung, right? The clean-cut one."

I nodded in agreement with the guild master.

Was "clean-cut" a genuine compliment? Anyway, having heard our names, he introduced himself. Info I already knew.

"You probably heard from your captain... I'm Roger, guild master and leader of the 'Sky Mountains' Mercenaries. Well... basically retired."

"Pleased to meet you."

"Mm. White Whale folks don't die easy, so I'll be seeing your faces for a while."

No new skills as hoped, but the meeting wasn't a total waste. Roger was #1 in the mercenary world, after all. Building rapport could pay off someday.

"Dirty mouth, but that's his version of a blessing. What're you waiting for? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Intros done—out. I gotta talk business with pops."

Whoosh! Whoosh!

"Y-Yes?... U-Us?"

Mel panicked at Janet waving us out. Probably because she hoped to hear mission details.

Big talk between #1 and #3 mercenary leaders was intriguing. Not for me—I knew it all from the original.

I decided to follow Janet's lead. I'd known from the original that we wouldn't hear the full convo anyway.

Plus, Chris was on my mind. She'd been quietly unamused the whole time.

Made sense. Unlike me hoping for new discoveries or Mel excited just to see the guild master, Chris had no such stakes.

I signaled Mel and Chris it was time to go.

"Let's give 'em space, Mel."

"Huh... is that it?"

"What good's us hearing complicated stuff? Captain's got it."

"Ugh... guess not."

"Then, Captain, Guild Master—we'll head out."

Step, step... Creak.

We exchanged simple farewells and opened the door we'd entered through.

Just as we stepped out, Janet's voice came from behind.

"Oh, right—you three are new to the capital, yeah? Wait on the first floor. I'll take you to a local spot. Nothing fancy—just a restaurant."

"Got it. Good luck with work."

"Yeah. And you, breaking-precepts... ahem. Monk, thanks for earlier."

I gave Janet a slight smile in reply and shut the door.

We headed down to wait for her on the first floor.

Creak. Creeeak.

The stairs groaned under our weight, echoing down the hall. Unlike the stone first and second floors, the added third and fourth were wood—including the stairs.

"Chris? Bored?"

"Huh? Heh heh. Worried about me? Nah, it's fine. We weren't here for fun, right?"

"True... nominally business. Janet seemed to want us to get acquainted too."

"Figured. She's sneakily thoughtful... or not, given her last stunt?"

"Clear strengths and weaknesses."

"Hee hee hee."

Mid-chat with Chris heading to the first floor, I felt eyes on me from behind. No need to guess—the owner was Mel.

Wondering "why's she staring?" after a few seconds would be overthinking. But if the gaze lingered even around the corner on the stairs?

That meant deliberate staring.

I turned to Mel and asked.

"By the way, your tension from earlier—gone now?"

"P-Pardon? Ah, y-yes? Ch-Chanyoung, you noticed?"

"...Everyone but you noticed."

Nod, nod.

Chris beside me nodded in agreement. Even without keen senses, Mel had looked obviously tense.

"Uh... it broke all at once mid-way. The guild master and captain's banter was hilarious..."

"Good. Thank Janet then. She made that atmosphere on purpose. To relax you."

"Reeally?... For me?"

"Yep."

I didn't say I'd led it. Claiming credit would've seemed cheap... and it wasn't like I wanted something from Mel.

She already owed me plenty emotionally. That was just to score points with Janet.

And it worked—she seemed to like me a lot now. Good enough.