Chapter 10
After the red-haired chihuahua had left the house, I, too, stepped outside. My destination: a secondhand luxury shop, where I planned to neatly dispose of Seo Gowoon’s gaudy tastes.
“Just so you know, once an item is purchased, we don’t return it, even if you come back later. Understood? Please sign here.”
I half-listened to the shop owner’s voice as I signed the sales agreement. Maybe Seo Gowoon would come back later and wail in despair—but that wasn’t my problem.
I need cash right now.
“Here you go. I’ve transferred the funds.”
Perhaps worried that a gullible customer might change their mind, the owner showed me the transfer confirmation while tucking away the agreement. Considering there were limited-edition items in the batch and he had gotten them cheaply, I could understand his eagerness to finalize the deal.
But unlike the anxious shopkeeper, I was simply pleased—because I’d walked away with more money than I expected.
“Excuse me, where’s the nearest item shop?”
Thinking of my now-healthy bank account, I asked.
“Item shop? There’s a small one right next door, and a larger one down the side street. By the way, are you a Hunter?”
“Yes. Thanks for your help.”
I quickly ended the conversation and left. Ordinary people might favor brand-name fashion, but most Hunters preferred investing in gear to protect themselves. It was no wonder the owner hadn’t recognized Seo Gowoon—what kind of Hunter would blow more money on flashy designer junk than on real equipment? The fact that Seo Gowoon had awakened and still didn’t live like a proper Hunter—that was the strange part.
“Whoa, this place is massive.”
The item store loomed ahead with an impressive façade, its scale rivaling a department store. Because ordinary civilians could also shop for certain items, the building was bustling with foot traffic. I grabbed a guide map and entered slowly.
Bright lights reflected off the displays, and classical music drifted softly through the air. The atmosphere was reminiscent of the luxury department store I’d once visited to buy a gift for my team leader.
I studied the product categories listed by floor as I stepped onto the escalator.
“Wait… isn’t that Seo Gowoon?”
“It is! That’s Seo Gowoon!”
“What’s he doing in an item shop? Picking a fight again?”
“Didn’t he rent out an entire store last time, chased everyone away, then returned everything for a refund?”
“I heard the Noeul Guild Master himself had to come process it!”
Ordinary Hunters usually weren’t recognized unless they were rankers, but Seo Gowoon wasn’t even active. The fact that people knew his face anyway meant…
Just how infamous was he for being a menace?
Flustered, I covered my face with my hand. The novel had only summarized his behavior as “menacing,” so I had no idea the real Seo Gowoon had embarrassed himself so much that other Hunters could recognize him on sight.
Better buy what I need and get out fast.
Ignoring the murmurs, I stepped off the escalator and darted into the nearest shop. My thrill didn’t come from designer shopping but from buying proper items. Unfortunately—
“Welcome, what can I—aaah!”
The neatly groomed man in a suit who’d greeted me shrieked and collapsed as soon as he saw my face, trembling as if he’d just encountered something repulsive.
What the hell? I didn’t even do anything yet.
I froze, staring at him in disbelief. His reaction made me feel like some violent robber. Don’t tell me Seo Gowoon had caused trouble here too?
“What’s going on out here?”
Another employee, wearing a gold name tag—clearly the manager—hurried out. His face stiffened when he saw me.
“And what business brings you here?”
“What business do you think? I came to an item shop to buy items.”
“Apologies, but no matter how much you intimidate my staff—”
“Intimidate? He screamed and collapsed the second our eyes met. Don’t blame me. I’m just here to shop.”
I snapped back irritably at his false accusation.
“Jeonghwan, I’ll handle this. Go inside.”
“Y-yes, sorry, Manager…”
After sending the terrified clerk away, the manager turned back to me.
“If you need something, please tell me directly.”
His expression screamed I’ll stop you, no matter what it takes. Suppressing a sigh, I handed him the shopping list I’d prepared in advance.
He glanced over it, only to frown in confusion.
“…Are you planning to enter a dungeon?”
“Do I need to explain my purpose just to make a purchase?”
I narrowed my eyes, and he flusteredly waved his hands.
“N-no, of course not. It’ll take some time to prepare, so if you’ll wait—”
“I’ll browse other floors in the meantime.”
I handed him my card. He processed the transaction and returned it, looking surprised.
“This isn’t the Noeul Guild card… it’s your personal one now.”
“You certainly talk a lot, don’t you?”
“…It’ll be ready when you return.”
I nodded and headed for the fifth floor. By now, a crowd had gathered, whispering about me, but I didn’t care. These people didn’t matter; once I returned to my own world, I’d never see them again. I’d already given up on reconciling with Seo Taeju, so there was no point wasting energy worrying about public opinion.
The fifth floor was blocked by a steel gate—entry restricted to Hunters only. I approached the guard checking IDs.
“Good afternoon. This area is for—wait, Seo Gowoon Hunter?!”
Apparently Seo Gowoon’s face itself was as recognizable as an ID. For most Hunters, that phrase meant fame or power; for this body, it clearly meant something else. Clicking my tongue, I pointed at the gate.
“I can go in, right?”
“Y-yes! O-of course, please enter!”
I ignored his fluster and stepped inside. Unlike the lower floors, this wasn’t a shop but a series of private rooms reserved for Hunters.
This is where Seo Taeju bought his sword, if I remember right.
Even in the novel, the descriptions made it clear—the décor was far simpler than expected for a supposedly exclusive space.
“Welcome, Hunter Seo Gowoon. We’re honored to have you. Please, this way.”
The personal shopper, unlike the nervous staff outside, greeted me with polished courtesy. He bowed deeply, then guided me into a lavishly furnished room dripping with luxury.
After settling onto a plush sofa, I noticed a golden potion placed on the table.
Oh, nice. Free potion service for Hunters, huh?
In the novel, potions varied by effect: silver for healing, gold for fatigue recovery, blue for mana restoration. This one was a fatigue recovery potion.
Wonder what this tastes like.
So far, I’d only ever used silver healing potions to keep myself alive. Curious, I turned the vial in my hand until the shopper spoke again.
“If you tell me what you need, I’ll prepare the appropriate catalog.”
“No, just bring all the catalogs. I’m buying a lot today.”
I set the potion down and leaned back, smiling the wicked grin that Detective Kim had always hated.
“Don’t make that face—you look like a villain when you do.”
“Excuse me, but I am Seo Gowoon.”
I’d meant the smile as a warning: If the goods aren’t good enough, I’ll raise hell. But the shopper misinterpreted it.
“Understood. I’ll fetch the finest, most exquisite catalogs right away.”
He sprang to his feet.
“And first, I’ll bring the Infinite Pouches you requested.”
His expression radiated satisfaction.
“Please, trust me.”
The next moment, I was standing in a vast forest that smelled strongly of phytoncides.
“…How is this even possible?”
Unlike towers, where opening a door transported you to another dimension, dungeons changed the landscape in the blink of an eye. The earth underfoot, the scent in the air—it all felt like a genuine forest.
“Feels like I’m back chasing a druggie in the mountains.”
Before inhabiting Seo Gowoon’s body, I’d once been deployed deep into the woods on a fugitive manhunt. With no seniority back then, I had no choice but to obey the order. It had taken us about three days to find him.
Guess this brings back memories.
Lost in thought, I continued along the path until I reached a spot described in the novel: a narrow trail with waist-high weeds growing thick beside it.
The weeds weren’t just weeds—monsters lurked there. I crouched and pressed my hand to the ground.
“Transmute.”
A sharp cone of earth shot up from the weeds, piercing the belly of a squirrel-shaped monster. With a squeal, blood spattered the grass. A message appeared.
[You have gained experience.]
“One down.”
I advanced, using my skill on every patch of weeds I saw, skewering hidden monsters as I made my way toward the boss room.
The dungeon was eerily quiet. Unlike a real forest, there were no insect sounds—only my footsteps and the rustling of monsters.
Another squeal, another message.
But something bothered me.
“…Huh. Fewer than expected.”
According to the novel, this “Animal Crossing” dungeon was packed with monsters—squirrels, badgers, rabbits, practically every woodland creature. Yet so far, I’d only encountered hidden squirrels. No badgers, no rabbits, no roaming monsters.
It’s been about a month since the dungeon was last cleared. Respawn timers should’ve replenished the population. So where are they?
“Could someone have been here before me?”
I’d planned to use today’s run to test my mana consumption—how much Transmutation drained me and how long it took to recover. But with monsters so scarce, my mana was fully regenerating between encounters. The results were useless.
“Well, nothing I can do.”
Since this was a public dungeon, open to all Hunters, it wasn’t unusual if someone else had come ahead of me.
Guess luck’s not on my side today.
Shrugging, I targeted another weed patch.
“Transmute.”
“Kiieek!”
The ground transformed into a spiked cone, ripping through the monster’s belly. Green blood and entrails dripped down the stone.
[You have gained experience.]
“…Gotta admit, this is fun.”
Alchemy was an endlessly fascinating power. The higher my proficiency, the finer the transmutations became—not just for attacks, but for crafting useful items given the right materials.
“To think Seo Gowoon wasted this ability on being a thug.”
The more I experimented, the more pathetic the original owner seemed. With this kind of power, why had he only leached off others?
No wonder he died early.
I shook my head and stopped. The trail ended, opening into a clearing.
“This should be it… ah, there.”
Up ahead were five dense weed patches—the final barrier before the boss chamber, and the main habitat of squirrel monsters.
I placed my hand on the ground, a little nervous. I’d never tried Transmuting more than one patch at once.
“Transmute.”
Mana poured out in chunks, and five earthen spikes shot upward simultaneously. Squeals erupted as the monsters were impaled.
[You have gained experience.]
[You have gained experience.]
[You have gained experience.]
[You have gained experience.]
“…Wait. One short?”
Scanning the messages, I noticed only four had registered.
A squirrel monster leapt from the weeds, charging at me.
“Transmute!”
This time, instead of spikes, I raised a stone wall in front of me. The creature slammed into it with a sickening thud.
I slapped my palm against the barrier and activated Transmutation again. Spikes sprouted from the wall, skewering the monster mid-collision.
“Kieeek—!”
The cry cut off, followed by a dull thump.
[You have gained experience.]
When the message finally appeared, I dispersed the wall. The creature’s body lay riddled with holes, like a pin cushion.
“Damn, that was close. Did I mis-aim? Or is my skill level too low?”
Scratching my head, I continued forward. The tidy trail gave way to a wild overgrowth of flowers and weeds. But the trampled path cutting through it revealed signs of someone else having passed through.
“…Don’t tell me it’s already been cleared?”
If someone had killed the boss before me, it wasn’t a big deal. Honestly, it would save me the trouble of fighting.
But if they’d stolen the loot meant for me—
“…Please, no.”
I could only pray my suspicion was wrong.
