Chapter 32
‘It’s here.’
Park Chan-woo’s eyes gleamed.
The reason he hadn’t made any public moves since clearing the [Abyss of the Water God] had just appeared before him.
‘Fever Time.’
An event that triggered when the probability of reaching the target score dropped below 1%.
Had he cleared any other dungeon after hunting the [Water God], this event would not have occurred.
And this wasn’t the first time [Fever Time] had been initiated.
Back then, the [Creators] had likewise determined that South Korea would fail to reach 5,000 points, feigned generosity, and opened a trial—only to carry out a massacre.
Men, women, and children alike were dragged to unwanted deaths.
All due to the “conditions” of the event.
‘Never having entered a dungeon so far is basically a sign of mental or physical vulnerability.’
A random 20% who had never entered a dungeon before.
Those with physical or mental resilience had mostly already attempted dungeon entries.
Others had gone in out of simple curiosity.
The problem was the rest.
Patients unable to move easily.
Or those too young, too old, or otherwise incapable of fighting—all included in that random 20%—were simply thrown into random dungeons.
The results were painfully obvious.
‘76.1%. That’s a higher approval rate than last time.’
The difference this time was the number of people who wanted [Fever Time].
About 10% more than before.
Was it because the early score gains had spiked rapidly?
As the point gain slowed, people had grown desperate.
Debates likely exploded across social media and online communities.
‘The [Incarnations] and Han Shin aren’t making a move. Of course, point gain is going to be tough.’
The reason was clear.
A large number of [Incarnations] had died in the [Abyss of the Water God].
Since [Incarnations] were the strongest individuals, the death or injury of so many meant there were no capable leaders left to guide others.
…It didn’t matter all that much.
Even if they did act like leaders and saved people now, in the end, those same people would be responsible for killing ten times more humans later.
‘Han Shin not moving is the real surprise though…’
That attention-seeker’s silence was unexpected.
Perhaps he was taking a moment to survey the situation, having lost both his arrangement and the [Water God].
Park Chan-woo shook his head.
‘No. Knowing Han Shin’s personality, there’s no way he’d stay still in a situation like this. If he resolved this, he’d be hailed as Korea’s undisputed savior. The [Creator] he contracted with… it must be [Ahheta] interfering.’
Or perhaps it was [Ahheta]’s will itself.
[Ahheta] likely bet that Korea wouldn’t be able to reach 5,000 points.
But with the unexpected clearing of the most difficult [Abyss of the Water God], he had already lost 1,000 points. If Han Shin moved now, the goal would be reached far too easily.
‘[Ahheta] must’ve wagered a significant number of Coins.’
Park Chan-woo smiled faintly.
One of the reasons he had remained in hiding was now gone.
Han Shin and [Ahheta] must’ve been desperately searching for him.
But if Han Shin couldn’t move easily, the situation changed.
Come to think of it, Han Shin had been skeptical of the 5,000-point target in the past too.
Though he played the savior, Korea had failed by just 500 points and suffered the [Invasion Abyss], which led to over 200,000 casualties.
He could’ve hunted the [Water God] himself if he’d acted decisively.
As much as he hated to admit it, Han Shin was a monster.
He had likely slain the [Water God] using proper methods—not tricks like Chan-woo.
Either way, he now felt certain Han Shin wouldn’t be actively involved.
That’s why even the [Creators] deemed the goal unreachable and proposed [Fever Time].
‘Dungeon rewards doubled.’
Not a bad thing at all.
In fact, for Park Chan-woo, it was a golden opportunity.
Doubling dungeon rewards—an absolutely insane bonus.
And that wasn’t all.
‘As long as you look at the sun, you can enter any dungeon you want.’
To reduce travel time, dungeon entry had been simplified.
Previously, all dungeon entrances appeared in front of specific structures.
You had to be near the entrance to get inside, but now, if the sun was visible, you could enter any uncleared dungeon from anywhere.
But what Park Chan-woo looked forward to most was the third feature.
‘…I must find the Devil Merchant.’
The [Devil Merchant]!
They appeared only rarely.
And almost never so blatantly, like this.
The [Devil Merchants] were the only beings in the [Abyss] that enabled “trade.”
Of course, even then, it was only an exchange of equal “value.”
‘Maybe they can cure my status ailments.’
If the value offered was sufficient, a [Devil Merchant] could give you anything.
He had even heard of someone acquiring the [Fruit of the World Tree] from a Devil Merchant once.
A treasure incomparable to any elixir—capable of removing all severe status ailments and curses!
If he could acquire that, then curing [Weakest], [Frail], [Feeble], and [Terminal] might no longer be a pipe dream.
Park Chan-woo looked to the sky, at the sun.
《There are currently 13 uncleared dungeons in South Korea.》
《You will be transported to the dungeon you select from among the 13.》
《You have selected a dungeon.》
《Transporting to ‘Dungeon of Fire (300)’!》
《Current number of entrants in the Dungeon of Fire: 587,191.》
* * *
《Congratulations! ‘Han Min-oh,’ you’ve beaten the 20% odds and been selected!》
‘W-What the hell?’
Han Min-oh looked around.
Just moments ago, he’d been in his room.
FWOOSH!
Suddenly, everything around him changed.
A blazing wasteland.
Multiple massive pillars of fire surged upward.
‘What the—?’
No, they weren’t pillars of fire.
“It’s—it’s a typhoon!”
“Run!”
The area was overflowing with others who had been summoned here just like Han Min-oh.
The fire-wreathed typhoon swept over them in an instant.
“Aaaaargh!”
“Help!!”
No matter how he looked at it, this wasn’t a dream.
It was real.
Han Min-oh instinctively sprang to his feet.
Then he began to run like mad.
‘D-Don’t tell me this is the Abyss…?’
He had been chosen as part of the random 20% who had never entered a dungeon.
Dozens of people had died right in front of his eyes the moment it all began.
They were swept away by the typhoon or burned alive, screaming in agony.
Sssshk!
Ssssshhhh!
After running for a while, enormous lizards appeared.
Their backs ablaze, the [Flame Lizards] flicked their tongues and snatched up fleeing people.
Han Min-oh immediately veered eastward.
“Kik.”
“Kikikik.”
Then, with mocking laughter, floating skeletons revealed themselves midair.
The skeletons spat fire from their jaws, burning people alive.
Screams echoed from every direction.
‘Th-This is hell…’
Only then did Han Min-oh grasp reality.
This place was a hellish nightmare.
There was only one remaining direction—
West.
“Grrrraaaah!”
“Guhhhk! Guhhhk!”
…When he turned west, zombies appeared.
The unusual thing was, their heads were just bare skulls.
They looked like the skeletons from the east had evolved by taking over corpses.
‘Uniforms? Are those… military zombies?’
Most of the zombies wore military uniforms.
Soldiers who had once entered the dungeon—only to die horrific deaths.
They had turned into zombies and now swarmed Han Min-oh from all sides.
“D-Don’t come any closer! Stay away!”
Han Min-oh, collapsed on the ground, sobbed and screamed through tears and snot.
He was terrified. He didn’t want to die.
He had never felt fear like this before in his life.
“P-Please… spare me…”
“Do you want to live?”
“…!”
Startled by the voice beside him, Han Min-oh turned his head.
At some point, a devil carrying a rucksack had appeared right next to him.
Dark skin, horns sprouting from his forehead, and two wings on his back—there was no mistaking it.
The demon introduced himself.
“I am the great merchant, Dagon. If you can offer sufficient value, I can even revive you from death.”
The merchant who called himself Dagon grinned.
Han Min-oh hurriedly grabbed Dagon’s feet.
“M-Money! I’ll give you as much money as you want. I’ll tell my father. He’s the chairman of Han Yeon Group!”
“Money? That’s the most worthless thing in the Abyss.”
“Th-Then what do you want me to give…?”
“Let’s start with all ten fingers.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Not willing? It’s not like you have anything else to offer but your own body.”
“N-No! If it’ll save me, then… I-I’ll give them…!”
Slaaash!
With the sound of something being severed—
Thud!
All ten fingers fell neatly to the ground.
“GyaaaAAAAH!”
Han Min-oh groaned in agony and collapsed to his knees.
Dagon picked up the severed fingers.
“Hmm, only worth 20? That’s way too low.”
“W-What are you talking about…?”
“Your body is too weak. Its value is garbage.”
“You said you’d save me…”
“I said ‘let’s start with.’ I’ll probably need at least both your arms to make the deal.”
He was entranced—almost possessed.
Han Min-oh nodded without realizing it.
“O-Okay… I’ll give you my arms, just please…”
Tear!
It was an unreal scene.
Dagon grabbed Han Min-oh’s arms and ripped them right off.
“GAAHHHHH!”
The pain was so overwhelming that Han Min-oh’s eyes rolled back.
But Dagon simply shrugged.
“Sorry, kid. Even your arms are only worth 50. Maybe your heart will do?”
Lunacy. Nonsense.
A person can’t live without their heart.
Giving up his heart would mean only one thing for Han Min-oh: death.
Whether by zombie or by demon, it made no difference.
“Does it hurt? In return for the value you’ve already offered, I can grant you a painless death.”
“Ah… Aaaah…”
It hurt.
More than anything he’d ever felt in his life.
If it meant release from this agony, he’d do anything.
Being torn apart by zombies would be a hundred times worse.
“P-Please, just…”
“Just?”
Dagon bared his sharp teeth in a wide, delighted grin.
Go on, say it. Beg to be killed.
If he pleaded for death, the deal with the demon would be complete.
“Kill m—!”
“Stop.”
At that moment—
Someone appeared and cut Han Min-oh off mid-sentence.
As if they had risen straight from the ground, appearing without warning.
“…Hm? Where’d you come from? Using an invisibility spell?”
Even Dagon tilted his head in confusion.
Full-body invisibility was an advanced magic.
But even such a spell couldn’t fully erase one’s presence.
Yet this figure had appeared without even a trace of presence.
Park Chan-woo looked down at the now-unconscious Han Min-oh, then turned to Dagon.
“Isn’t that enough value to warrant saving him?”
“Popping out of nowhere just to say nonsense. How is this situation supposed to be salvaged?”
“You could’ve raised a barrier or set up a defensive ward to stop the zombies.”
“Listen. Value is subjective. A person doomed to die has no value to offer.”
‘A corpse that was going to die anyway?’
Kyuuuk!
Radiant Anubis revealed itself from Chan-woo’s pants leg and immediately grew in size, driving away the surrounding zombies.
“Now he won’t die.”
“……”
Dagon was speechless.
As stated—his prediction of the future had been proven wrong.
And that meant—
“I see… I was mistaken. I didn’t expect someone like you to show up.”
The value of the severed arms taken from Han Min-oh had also changed.
The trade itself had become unnecessary.
Park Chan-woo spoke clearly.
“The deal is void. Reattach the arms and fingers immediately.”
“……”
That’s right.
To void the trade, the arms had to be reattached immediately.
And to fully restore severed arms and fingers, a high-grade elixir would be necessary at minimum.
But that wasn’t profitable.
Only trades of equal value were allowed.
Even Dagon wasn’t free from that absolute rule.
‘To raise a merchant’s rank, you must complete as many trades as possible.’
Even among the [Devil Merchants], there were ranks.
Currently, Dagon’s rank was [Ancient].
Among the merchants in this region, it was considered quite high—but still lacking the weight to be called a [Great Merchant].
That’s why he was so desperate to make deals with humans, even by force.
A merchant’s rank could increase based on the total [value] traded.
‘The problem is, if I fetch a high-grade elixir, my rank might actually drop.’
Naturally, if he wanted to cover up this blunder by acquiring a [High-Grade Elixir], Dagon would need to pay a matching value in return.
For a merchant, value was everything—and that meant his rank. Plus, high-grade elixirs were extremely difficult to obtain.
It was no wonder Dagon’s expression had darkened.
Meanwhile, Park Chan-woo spoke in a calm, indifferent voice.
“Why are you just standing there?”
“……”
“If this man dies, you’ll lose your merchant qualification.”
“…!”
For the first time, Dagon’s eyes shook.
It was as if the man before him even knew the rules of a [Devil Merchant].
“You… What are you? How does a human know the rules of the merchants?”
His voice trembled on the verge of rage.
Park Chan-woo smirked.
‘Just as expected.’
Every [Devil Merchant], including Dagon, was scouring dungeons like mad.
All to wring [value] out of as many humans as possible.
They forced deals, padding their own pockets.
If they raised their rank enough to become a [Great Merchant], they’d stand on equal footing with the [Lords of the Abyss].
But greed always invited ruin.
And that’s exactly what Dagon’s situation had become.
“Curious how I know your rules? That information’s quite expensive, you know. I wonder if you have enough [value] to pay for it.”
With a hint of provocation, he made a counteroffer.
He was asking whether Dagon possessed enough [value] to pay for this information.
He was practiced.
Fluent in the language of demon deals.
Dagon had no idea where this man had come from, but he stared silently at Park Chan-woo.
…It felt like he was dealing with another devil.
‘He probably just bought the information from another Devil Merchant.’
Dagon was convinced.
The man must’ve paid another Devil Merchant to reveal the rules.
Getting the basic rules wouldn’t cost more than a [Unique]-grade item, after all.
Now he was leveraging that information to blackmail him.
Hiding in the shadows, waiting for a slip-up. That must’ve been his plan.
‘He wants me to believe he knows the rules and use this crisis to extort value from me?’
It looked like he intended to milk Dagon by claiming superior knowledge.
How aggravating.
But—
Dagon chuckled internally as he replied.
“Fine. I’ll pay [value] to receive the information. So answer me—who told you the merchant rules?”
He accepted the deal.
To Dagon, the human before him was remarkable enough to warrant a trade.
Someone who could sneak up and shake him like this surely had substantial [value].
If he could extract it and buy a [High-Grade Elixir], he could clean up this mistake.
That was his aim with this deal.
‘Stupid fool. You clearly don’t know about the nondisclosure clause.’
Information like this usually came with a “nondisclosure” clause.
The contract would’ve been written in [Demonic Script], which humans couldn’t read without a translation spell.
Still, he could guess what it said without looking.
‘It probably includes a clause stating that revealing the name of the informing merchant will incur a penalty worth ten times the value.’
That was standard contract language.
And he could use it against this guy.
If he invoked the clause—said he’d keep the secret or erase the memory—he could demand half the penalty value as compensation.
‘Say the name of the merchant, and you’re finished.’
He’d accepted the deal. It was over.
This guy probably thought he could bluff and threaten, but he was sorely mistaken.
Hoist by his own petard.
Of course, the higher the status of the one who gave him the info, the higher the penalty he’d owe.
But Dagon was convinced it had to be another Devil Merchant.
Then—
Smiirk!
Park Chan-woo curled up one corner of his mouth and spoke.
“Sephiro.”
…Sephiro?
Dagon tilted his head.
That name wasn’t among the [Devil Merchants].
But it sounded oddly familiar.
It was an uncommon name, yet it rang a bell.
‘No way…’
For a moment, a single being flashed through Dagon’s mind.
But that couldn’t be.
There was no way a mere human could know that name.
Even if it were true, someone of that caliber wouldn’t go out of their way to share merchant rules with a human…
《Commencing [value assessment] of the information.》
《Information has been verified as true.》
《The deal is complete.》
《Estimated value of the information: minimum 20,000,000.》
《Dagon will now pay the [value].》
