Chapter 9 - Gold Retirement Fund (3)

　　Kim Buja’s plan was simple: a Parasite Strategy. He would get support for everything, from the dungeon to the necessary equipment. His level was still 1, and none of his stats were above 3, but his experience in the Epic dungeon told him that a Unique dungeon was conquerable if he just boosted his defense and stats a little more.

　　He carefully watched Seora’s expression, waiting for her reaction. In truth, making such a demand when he wasn’t even a guild member was absurd. He wouldn’t have even asked if she hadn’t shown such a strong desire to recruit him. It wasn’t about being rude; it was about not wasting time on a request that was doomed to be rejected.

　　“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” she said, her tone firm but her expression apologetic. It was a look that perfectly reflected her ability to separate professional duties from personal feelings. “It’s a bit much to lend items to a player who hasn’t even officially joined.”

　　“Right, of course.”

　　“If it were a decision I could make personally, I would have trusted you and gone ahead,” she explained. “But I already got an earful from the Guild Master yesterday for conceding so much on your recruitment. This is beyond my authority, and it certainly won’t be approved.”

　　She wanted to see it, though. A solo raid of a 1-star Unique dungeon. Could Buja achieve a feat that would place him among the top five in the world? If he had signed the contract yesterday, things might have been different. But lending a guild’s treasure to an official outsider was out of the question.

　　Buja didn’t press the matter. “Then I’ll put this on hold for now. Can I at least call dibs?” he asked, pushing the Unique dungeon file aside to keep the mood from getting awkward.

　　“Of course,” Seora replied with a smile, playing along. “It’s not like we have any other players who can enter a 1-star dungeon right now anyway.”

　　“So, the one from before?” she asked, offering him the file for the Epic boss-kill dungeon again.

　　Buja shook his head once more. “No, this time, I’ll go with survival.”

　　With that, he unhesitatingly picked up the file he had been eyeing all along.

　　4.

　　“What a shame. If I’d solo-cleared a Unique dungeon for my second run, I could have immediately hit the news and reopened my video channel,” Buja muttered to himself five hours later as he headed toward the dungeon.

　　In truth, he could reopen his channel right now. He had proven himself in the Epic dungeon, and he knew that for him, at least, games and dungeons weren’t so different. The fans who had applauded his movements, judgment, and bold strategies in games would do the same in this new reality. And with a market thousands of times larger, he would earn far more money.

　　But he held back. Getting too much attention isn’t a good thing, not in a world this dangerous.

　　It wasn’t cynicism; it was experience. Popularity inevitably bred jealousy. Back in the game, he’d had to deal with not only people who followed him just to troll him, but also organized groups who targeted his character’s equipment. And that was when the stakes were low. What about now, in a reality that had become a game? This was a world where people bet their lives on a single stat point, where Epic and Unique equipment sold for hundreds of thousands, even millions. There would be no shortage of players willing to forget the law and act on instinct for a lifetime of comfort.

　　Protecting his still-weak body from such people was a more difficult challenge than entering a Unique dungeon. So, he would remain in the shadows. He couldn’t stop himself from becoming known eventually, but it would be foolish to willingly broadcast his methods, his class, and his weakness of not using skills. That could wait. Besides, he was already earning enough money without needing a video channel.

　　I want to show them so badly, he thought, a familiar urge rising. He wanted to declare to the whole world, I have a Legendary class!, draw every eye to himself, and reveal his magnificent growth. But he had no desire to be a flame that burned out as quickly as it flared.

　　Someday, he promised himself, reining in his impatience. The day would come when he would stand proudly before the world as the eighth Legendary-class player. The dungeon he had chosen was another step toward that goal.

　　“For now, let’s just take it easy and earn a lot of gold.”

　　He arrived at his second Epic dungeon.

* * *

　　[Clear Condition]

　　☆ Survive for 4 days against monsters searching for food

　　▷ This is an Epic-grade dungeon. Dungeon penalties will be applied.

　　1. Monsters’ level and attack power will increase.

　　2. A buff will be applied when monsters form a group.

　　Survival was one of the most polarizing clear conditions. It was virtually the only objective that could be completed without actively conquering the dungeon. As a result, players were split into two camps.

　　The first group avoided survival dungeons at all costs. The reason was simple: betrayal. In a party of strangers cobbled together from the community, encountering a monster that was a bad matchup often led to the party dissolving. If pursued, members would remember the clear condition and all too easily abandon their teammates as sacrifices to buy themselves time to hide. Moreover, these dungeons swarmed with far more monsters than average, making stealth and escape the primary tactics, not hunting.

　　The second group, however, sought out these dungeons exclusively. All you have to do is run, so it’s super easy. You can even clear dungeons above your level. These were typically players with classes specializing in stealth and evasion. It was an easier way to challenge higher-grade dungeons. Of course, the risk of being caught and killed was still very real. It was simply a choice: fight head-on, or use your specialty to run out the clock. They couldn’t acquire items this way, but they made their living from the dungeon’s clear rewards.

　　And then there was a third, exceptionally rare type of player. The very reason Buja had chosen this dungeon.

　　“This is great. A forest again,” he murmured, a sly grin spread across his face, as if he was ready to catch prey, as he checked the edge of his dagger. “It must be crawling with them.”

　　This was the hunter, the kind of lunatic who saw a survival dungeon as an all-you-can-eat buffet of monsters and gold.

　　“Last time, I was too pressed for time after the boss fight to earn much gold.”

　　There were more than a few players who couldn’t tell if they were the prey or the predator. They would confidently enter a survival dungeon intending to slaughter monsters, hoard items, and level up. And then, they would realize.

　　“There are so many.”

　　They would realize what the global community meant by “a lot.” Only those who realized it survived. Those who didn’t never made it out.

　　Buja, too, was impressed. “Goblins.”

　　A scouting party of five or six goblins came face-to-face with him. The fact that they were moving in a group, even in a secluded, overgrown part of the forest, gave him a rough idea of their tribe’s size. Any normal person would be afraid. They would start calculating the odds.

　　“A scouting party means their tribe is nearby,” he calculated, “Which means I can get even more gold.”

　　That was the one difference between Buja and other players. When others felt fear, he gripped his dagger.

　　And then he charged.

　　Humanoid monsters. Prey made of bone and flesh, hiding their frail bodies behind crude armor.

　　“They should be worth four gold, right?”

　　In the quiet dungeon, the roles of hunter and hunted were about to be reversed.

　　5.

　　Swish!

　　The rustling of grass in the wind filled the forest night with an eerie tension. In the darkness, where an enemy could appear at any moment, it was the night watch’s duty to listen to every subtle sound.

　　“Kriee?”

　　“Keke!”

　　This was especially true now, with dozens of goblins having vanished over the past few days. One of the two goblins guarding the village entrance crept cautiously toward the sound. Nothing seemed out of place. There was no scent of other beasts. Just the wind, it thought. As the goblin let out a sigh of relief and turned to go back, its partner at the entrance shrieked.

　　“Screee!”

　　It was a timely warning, but the dagger reached the returning goblin first.

　　Thwack!

　　The blade plunged precisely into the nape of its neck. Without a second glance, Buja blurred into motion, rushing the remaining guard. Covered in mud and leaves, he was nearly invisible in the dim light from the village, making him seem impossibly fast.

　　“Kieee!”

　　The panicked goblin swung its spear wildly. Slice! The sound of something being cut whispered in its ear. A hit! Its joy was short-lived. The scent of mud filled the air behind it, and a cold sensation pierced its neck. The goblin collapsed.

　　“Haah.”

　　After dispatching the guards, Buja moved quickly, melting back into the deserted forest to circle toward another entrance.

　　[You have acquired 1 gold.]

　　[You have achieved ‘Achievement: Hundred-Man Feast! (E)’.]

　　[You have acquired 10 gold.]

　　[You have achieved ‘Achievement: Goblin Slayer (R)’.]

　　[The effect of the ‘Goblin Slayer (R)’ achievement is now active.]

　　He dismissed the satisfying holograms and watched as the goblins, now alerted and howling in rage, began to prepare for battle. A few hours left should be fine.

　　The information he’d gathered over nearly four days of hunting was clear: this forest belonged to the goblins. While other monsters existed, the goblins were the apex predators. As they began to move in larger, buffed groups due to the Epic penalty, the fights grew harder, but Buja’s overwhelming skill against humanoid monsters had brought him to their doorstep.

　　Four hours remained. He had earned more gold than he’d hoped for. It was time to end this.

　　“Let’s finish this my way, green-heads.”

　　Against his mud-caked face, his teeth flashed white in the moonlight. More and more goblins swarmed into view. He had killed a hundred, but a hundred more remained. He had no intention of doing something as foolish as fighting them head-on.

　　Fwoosh!

　　In the darkness, the source of his confidence flared to life.

　　“Let’s go.”

　　The burgeoning flame, attached to his dagger, soared through the air and landed in the heart of the goblin horde.