Chapter 80

Chapter 80.

FLASH!

The dazzling golden pillar that had slammed down into the middle of the battlefield slowly faded.

The thousands of Hunters who had defended Hanam Fortress.

Even Min Ji-hee, who had rushed out of the operation control room.

All of them stared only at the place where the light was fading, unable to make even the sound of breathing.

At last, the light settled, and the silhouettes standing within it were revealed.

Han Seol-ah, the Guardian, standing upright with her white hair fluttering.

Lee A-un, cloaked in black energy, with a tiny Death Knight accompanying him on his shoulder.

Yeriche, the Saintess, dressed in ordinary clothes and holding a rough Stone Staff in her hand.

Just Kim Cheol-su.

And—

“Apostle!”

Before anyone realized it, Min Ji-hee, standing in the middle of the battlefield, staggered forward with a trembling voice.

There stood the Apostle, his black coat fluttering.

The 94th Floor.

The disaster from which no one had ever returned alive once they entered, the calamity that had trapped the Republic of Korea in ten years of despair.

The condition of the party members who had broken through it was…

‘They do not have… a single wound?’

…Strangely lively.

It would have been called a miracle even if they had returned with one or two limbs severed.

Yet they looked perfectly fine, without so much as a small scratch on them.

The Apostle swept an indifferent gaze over the collapsed walls and the blood-soaked Hunters.

“I am not late, am I?”

His voice was casual, tossed out as if in passing.

At that instant, life returned to the eyes of the exhausted Hunters in a flash.

“No, sir!!!”

“You arrived exactly on time!”

“Aaaaaah!!! Apostle!!!”

Cheers erupted all at once, as though the entirety of Hanam Fortress were about to burst apart.

“We survived!! We survived!”

“Come here! Now we are getting married!”

Some threw down their weapons and collapsed on the ground, weeping.

Some hugged and kissed the person beside them.

Joy and relief. All of Hanam Fortress was covered in a sea of hot tears.

It was a roar of salvation announcing the end of a long, nightmarish ten years.

Min Ji-hee, too, unable to control the tears flowing down her cheeks, tried to kneel before the Apostle.

“A-Apostle. Truly… truly, you have worked so hard…”

“It seems you all had it quite rough too.”

Before her knees could even touch the dirt, the Apostle lightly held Min Ji-hee by the shoulder and stopped her.

“Judging by the terrible state everyone is in.”

The Apostle lightly operated the laptop in his hand, then flicked his finger.

Snap!

At that moment.

A massive, sacred light burst explosively from the Apostle’s entire body, dazzling enough that no one could open their eyes.

“What a truly absurd amount of Divine Power…”

The one who muttered while shaking her head was Yeriche, the Saintess.

She could feel the power of the pure Divine Power flowing from the Apostle’s body more accurately than anyone else.

It was a miracle that even she, called the best in the world, could never manifest without shaving away her own life.

Yeriche let out a dumbfounded laugh and watched the unrealistic sight.

The light pouring from the Apostle’s body soared into the sky in the form of a grand cross, then became warm sunlight that wrapped around all of Hanam Fortress.

“…?!”

“H-huh?”

“The blood… The wounds are healing!”

A miracle occurred.

The broken bones of the Hunters touched by the light aligned in real time, torn flesh regenerated, and soon, vitality began circulating through their Mana Circuits, which had hit rock bottom, as if it were a lie.

He had “fully healed” thousands of Hunters with a single skill.

The mouths of the Hunters, who had been cheering just moments earlier, fell open.

For an instant, silence descended.

‘…A Frost Mage beyond Seol-ah. A Necromancer who commands Break Bosses. And now… even a Healer who uses miracle-class Divine Power…’

Saying it was astonishing was not enough.

It was awe-inspiring.

‘Just where… is the Apostle’s limit?’

She had thought he was a completed powerhouse with no room left to grow stronger.

She had misjudged him.

Rather, he was a superhuman whose potential ceiling she could not even begin to grasp.

The Apostle smiled leisurely at Min Ji-hee and the Hunters, who stood frozen with their mouths open.

“Let us return. To our everyday lives.”

***

In one corner of the collapsed ruins of Hanam Fortress.

Kim Min-seok gasped as he watched the absurd spectacle the Apostle had caused.

The moment he saw the Apostle’s back as he performed that miracle, Kim Min-seok’s Survival Instinct rang its warning.

‘As expected, that thing is… a monster wearing a human shell.’

Simply watching from hiding had drenched his entire body in cold sweat.

‘I have to run away quickly.’

At that moment, his Hunter Watch vibrated briefly.

[Return.]

It was an order from the Guild Master.

At the same time—

[Your Awakened Ability is evolving.]

[Awakened Ability: Survival Instinct (A) → Survival Instinct (S)]

For some unknown reason, his Awakened Ability evolved.

His heartbeat stretched out, and the dust drifting through the air stopped like a frozen frame.

There were no physical changes, such as surging muscle strength or amplified Mana.

Only the speed of Kim Min-seok’s thoughts began accelerating sharply and rapidly.

In a world where everything had slowed, Kim Min-seok organized his thoughts while feeling a chill climb up his spine.

‘Something has happened that is threatening my Survival Instinct right now.’

Just moments ago, he had clearly seen the miracle the Apostle had performed with his own eyes.

The Apostle had cleared the 94th Floor and returned.

And at precisely that moment, the return order had arrived.

Which of the two was stimulating his Survival Instinct this seriously?

Kim Min-seok’s gaze reached the Apostle’s black-clad back in the distance.

An instinctive terror that made him feel as though his heart would burst just by looking at him.

‘I want to run.’

The desire for life naturally followed.

The conclusion was obvious.

Kim Min-seok decided to run.

From that man.

‘Let us return. To Pandemonium.’

Time began flowing normally again.

‘Whew. So it was this after all.’

Kim Min-seok hurriedly packed his belongings and left the hideout.

And a short while later.

After returning, he went before his Master to report.

“After thinking it over, I have decided to kill you.”

‘…!’

Kim Min-seok regretted it too late.

***

Pandemonium.

…This has become boring.

The Guild Master, Iranshu, muttered softly and ended the call.

“What has become so boring?”

“They say First cleared the 94th Floor.”

“…That is truly remarkable.”

Tsk.

Iranshu clicked his tongue in irritation.

First was a “Pending One” who had escaped the Tower.

Iranshu had wondered how much would truly change just because he re-entered it, but…

‘It would have been nice if he had failed.’

As if mocking Iranshu’s expectations, First had safely cleared the 94th Floor and come out.

Moreover, he had returned without a single injury and even displayed the miracle of healing every Hunter who had been left in tatters.

‘…Yes. Rather, that is exactly like you.’

Iranshu felt his heart pounding.

First.

Iranshu’s master had been that kind of person.

A cold-blooded man who had never told him even a fragment of his name from the moment he took him as a disciple until the moment they parted in the 73rd Floor waiting room.

A sociopath who had taught him to discard human emotions at any time, solely for the sake of one thing: “clearing Hidden Quests.”

And the ideal he had always wished to reach…!

“Master. Your shadow…”

The Observer backed away with a pale face.

Cold sweat streamed down the forehead of the man who had always observed everything calmly.

Iranshu looked down at his feet.

His shadow was swelling like a living, breathing predator, wavering as it aimed for the Observer’s neck.

“Ah, sorry. I got a little excited.”

Immediately afterward, Iranshu’s expression hardened into something numb and cold, like a machine whose switch had been turned off.

When he forcibly severed his emotions, the shadow that had been wavering as if it would harm the Observer also quieted down.

Emotions that he would normally have controlled perfectly were surging so greatly only when matters related to “First” were involved.

Was it the backlash from controlling his emotions?

Iranshu surrendered himself to the fatigue that suddenly washed over him and leaned back, sinking deep into the pitch-black chair.

***

Not long afterward, Kim Min-seok returned.

Iranshu looked over Kim Min-seok with languid eyes and spoke as if tossing the words out.

“After thinking it over, I have decided to kill you.”

“…Pardon? W-what in the…”

Iranshu smiled ominously and explained.

“Ah. This makes the third time. Now, try to remember. I told you not to stutter or limp, did I not? You had already broken that rule twice back then, and with what you just did, this is the third.”

“…”

Kim Min-seok shut his mouth with a snap.

No matter what one did, he would always overlook it twice.

The moment one repeated the mistake a third time, he would kill them without exception.

That was the Guild Master’s killing habit.

‘I-I am at the “third” right now?’

“Answer me. You broke it three times. Correct?”

“…Yes, yes. Please spare me…!”

WHOOSH!

A pitch-black shadow stretched out from beneath Iranshu’s feet like a tidal wave.

That ominous darkness instantly surged beneath Kim Min-seok’s feet, then split into dozens, hundreds of skeletal palms and began devouring his shadow alive.

“Hiiik…!”

Shadowy hands with protruding knuckles greedily crawled up from Kim Min-seok’s ankles to his calves.

Soon, Kim Min-seok’s knees buckled under their grip, and his lower body began sinking into the black shadow as if being swallowed by a swamp.

“Hiiik! Huaaagh!”

“Calm down. You are not dying.”

“Pardon? Pardon?”

Iranshu spoke kindly.

“You are becoming a superior being.”

“What on earth does that mean… Aaaagh!!!”

Soon, a giant hand popped out of the shadow and grabbed Kim Min-seok.

Then, as though mocking Kim Min-seok’s flailing resistance, it pulled him in with a smooth tug.

“Save meeee—”

Kim Min-seok’s Survival Instinct did not ring.

As if the moment he chose this option, it had realized there was no path to survival and given up.

That drove Kim Min-seok insane.

Before he could even finish screaming, Kim Min-seok sank into the shadow swamp and disappeared.

***

“…It is still not a pleasant sight to watch.”

“That is why I told you to leave.”

Thud. Thud, thud. Thud.

As if someone inside the shadow were throwing them out, objects popped out one by one.

They were the Artifacts Kim Min-seok had been wearing.

His cell phone and Hunter Watch popped out with them.

And finally…

A large Mana Stone rolled out.

Whatever was inside the shadow rolled it carefully, as if this, at least, must not be broken.

Iranshu picked up the Mana Stone and examined it closely.

“Hmm. A-grade, is it? Not bad.”

Pandemonium’s inexhaustible financial power came from Mana Stone sales.

After the opening of the Hunter Era, Mana Stones had become the most precious raw material.

The only place that could purchase them in any desired quantity was Pandemonium.

This was the very reason a transnational criminal organization like Pandemonium could still continue to exist without being thoroughly exterminated.

A necessary evil that supplied Mana Stones…!

Just how did Pandemonium procure that many Mana Stones?

That alone had been hidden behind a thorough veil.

The Observer was seeing that truth clearly with his own eyes.

‘…An ability that can create Mana Stones.’

The Observer’s sharp eyes examined the Mana Stone.

‘…Hm?’

His eyes, equipped with a visual enhancement Artifact, caught a strange sight.

Inside the Mana Stone that had been “Kim Min-seok” until just now…

Something… ominous seemed to have wriggled.

‘Did I see it wrong?’

There was no way!

‘That is not an ordinary Mana Stone…!’

—Then all the Mana Stones they have sold until now were…?

The moment the Observer drew in a shocked breath, Iranshu turned around.

Iranshu smiled ominously, placed one index finger over his lips, and spoke softly.

“Shh.”

***

“Kim Min-seok’s regular reports have stopped.”

“…Is he sleeping somewhere again?”

“His location tracking has stopped too.”

“Perhaps he is in an underground bunker…”

“His vital signs have also stopped.”

“…Just how many things did you attach to him?”

“Everything that could be attached?”

While reviewing documents, Min Ji-hee glanced down at the cell phone screen where the signal had cut off and spoke firmly.

“Well, he must be dead.”

“…That is not regrettable.”

“Yes. The moment he defected, he began walking a different path from us.”

It was obvious that the moment they showed mercy to a traitor, internal solidarity would collapse beyond control.

It was an ending with nothing to mourn.

“Still, it was a useful death.”

“Hmm?”

“The place Kim Min-seok joined after betraying us. Pandemonium. We learned where those rats are hiding.”

Min Ji-hee’s gaze turned toward the map of the entire nation that filled one wall of the office.

Her eyes flashed sharply, and just as she was about to point to one coordinate—

RING!

A loud incoming call tore through the silence.

Min Ji-hee withdrew the sharp gaze she had fixed on the map and picked up the receiver with a calm expression, as if nothing had happened.

[Commander Min Ji-hee, it has been a while.]

The caller displayed on the monitor was the President of the American Hunter Association.

“We are not on terms where we exchange pleasantries. State your business briefly.”

[First, I offer my sincere congratulations on your clearing of the 94th Floor. Now the Republic of Korea can officially begin Tower farming as well, correct?]

“If you are only going to recite things we both already know, I will hang up. There are still many calls waiting.”

[I will dispatch this body’s direct farming team to you.]

“Bite your tongue and kill yourself.”

Click.

Min Ji-hee mercilessly hung up on the President of the American Hunter Association.

‘He sure took a long time to say he wanted the first bite.’

“Hmm. The rumors certainly travel fast.”

“Well, these are the bastards who were betting on whether we would collapse or not.”

This was already the sixth such call.

China had contacted them the fastest, followed by Japan, then Russia.

They were the closest neighbors and the group with more interest in the Republic of Korea’s survival than anyone else.

After that came greedy Britain, and surprisingly, the India Remnant Team.

The sixth call just now had been the United States.

Of course, not a single offer appealed to Min Ji-hee.

As always, they were nothing but a pack of jackals with bloodshot eyes, trying somehow to rip a piece off for themselves.

“However, we do need help from other nations.”

“…That is true.”

The 94th Floor had been cleared.

For the next month, they would be able to freely enter and exit the 1st Floor through the 94th Floor and conduct “farming,” mining the Tower’s resources.

Considering that the highest Floor on Earth currently available for farming was America’s 70th Floor…

The 71st to the 94th Floors were unexplored territory that humanity had never once farmed before.

In other words—

It was a honey pot.

“How should we break through this…?”

The problem was that there was no strategy data at all for the 71st Floor and above.

The purpose of Tower farming was not to defeat the Boss and clear the Floor.

The key was to dodge the deadly Monsters and other gimmicks that existed on that Floor, mine only the minerals and rare Artifacts inside, then safely “survive” and return.

In the end, farming unexplored territory where they did not know what Monsters would appear or what traps lay hidden was no different from suicide.

‘It would have been nice if we could have pushed through by killing everything, like low-Floor farming…’

There was no way they could easily kill Monsters in the 70th Floor range like the ones on the lower Floors.

Rather, they were far more likely to be killed in return.

“If our farming stagnates like this, those jackal-like bastards will try to get their spoon into it in earnest under the pretext of ‘safe resource extraction.’”

“The pretext sounds plausible, but in the end, they intend to clean out the choice honey pot for themselves.”

A stifling silence descended.

In order for the Republic of Korea to resist foreign interference, they had to secure a perfect farming route and strategy data as quickly as possible.

That was also why Min Ji-hee had been holed up in the office without resting until now.

But where on earth could they get it?

“There is one method, is there not?”

Jin Cheon-jin spoke calmly, as if wondering what there was to even think about.

“…”

When Min Ji-hee looked up at him with irritation in her eyes, asking what nonsense he was talking about, Jin Cheon-jin answered brightly.

“Let us ask the Apostle!”

“…”

Min Ji-hee sighed.

“The 71st to 93rd Floors are unknown Floors that no one has ever entered. There is no way he would know that.”

“Why do you think there is no way he would know?”

Jin Cheon-jin was serious.

“Let us at least ask! There is nothing to lose!”

“No, logically, how would he know something like that? …Wait.”

Min Ji-hee stopped speaking.

Logic…?

Had logic ever worked as a standard for that man?

From the Breaks to the 94th Floor strategy, the Apostle had perfectly broken through every gimmick as if he were holding all the answers.

‘…Could it be? He may truly know.’

Grasping at even a straw, Min Ji-hee hurriedly wrote a text message on her Hunter Watch.

[Apostle, by any chance, do you know the strategy for the 71st Floor?]

The reply came immediately.

[Yep.]