Instant Kill, Time-Stop Spellcaster

“…Would you mind explaining your reasoning?”

Section Chief Choi, now calmer after a moment of thought, refrained from pressing further. His demeanor suggested he was making an effort to avoid offending Kang Hyun.

“I dislike being tied down,” Kang Hyun replied bluntly.

While he harbored ambitions to benefit from the nation’s resources, he refused to don a mask for anyone’s sake.

“So, the mandatory conditions were a concern. I can remove clauses about overseas travel and personal sanctions—”

“I still refuse.”

“In that case, we could establish a non-binding preliminary agreement and later adjust the details—”

“No.”

“You simply desire freedom.”

As expected, Section Chief Choi was perceptive. Conversations flowed easily with him.

“If it means being bound, I would rather not accept anything at all.”

“Support could significantly accelerate your growth.”

“I can manage alone. I’ve done so until now.”

It might sound arrogant, but Kang Hyun had earned the right to say it, having proven himself. Section Chief Choi seemed to sense his conviction, finding no grounds to argue.

“Are you truly willing to forgo all these benefits?”

“Yes.”

Forgo? Hardly. If there was no rush, everything would eventually fall into his hands. The key was that everyone wanted him, and no one could replace him. In the end, they would come to him.

Negotiation was not about force but about making the other party desperate to offer. Life had taught him that well.

‘If only I had known this in my youth in the previous life.’

Still, in this second life, he could act with calm foresight thanks to past experiences. A second chance changed one’s perspective—it turned out reincarnation was quite worthwhile.

“Is there truly nothing you want from the nation?”

“No.”

“It doesn’t have to be material.”

“Hmm.”

“We could provide special authority, honorary titles, perhaps even a degree of public power. Such things are within our means.”

“That does sound tempting.”

“Oh!”

The truth was, Kang Hyun did want something: a diplomatic position with Thea. With it, or rather, because of it, he could freely travel to Thea. There were loose ends to tie up from his abrupt death: promises to keep, people to return to, and the homes of his fellow heroes to visit after fulfilling his pledge for peace.

Yet such positions weren’t granted lightly—they required credentials and trust. And for now, they were unattainable.

‘It’s unlikely they’d grant it now.’

Besides, intangible assets like that…

“I’ll get them in due time anyway.”

Section chief Choi closed his mouth, realizing persuasion was futile.

“…I see there’s no helping it.”

“Huh, you’re not going to push further?”

“Some things can’t be achieved by force.”

“Given the circumstances, I thought you might appeal to patriotism or demand sacrifices.”

“Haha. I hear that often, but patriotism cannot be forced. It must arise naturally.”

“Oh…”

He wasn’t as rigid as Kang Hyun had expected. It seemed he could be an adequate point of contact with the government.

‘This will suffice for today.’

Having plugged potential leaks about his identity and built a favorable rapport, Kang Hyun stood.

“Well, I’ll be going now.”

“So suddenly?”

“My business here is concluded.”

“W-Wait! Even without a contract, at least take this!”

“Hm?”

Section Chief Choi handed him something.

###

Ding!

“Ah, deposited!”

“Money!”

Kang Hyun and Aden eagerly looked at the phone. Finally, the converted mana stone payment had arrived. The chaos of the past prevented them from hearing the amount clearly.

“Let’s see how much~”

“Checking now! Drumroll, please!”

Account open!

“What the…!”

“W-What is it?”

“Twelve-point-Eight million…!”

“What!?”

Deposited: 12.8 million won. For just over a week’s work, the value of six ‘freezes’ in the dungeon.

“Are you sure you’re not misreading? Isn’t it 1.2 million? Let me see!”

“Hey! Keep your hands off my sacred account!”

Aden lunged for the phone, which Kang Hyun promptly raised out of reach.

“Hey! One of those runs was all mine!”

“How was that solo? If I hadn’t frozen it for you, you’d be roasted!”

Aden scrambled to snatch it, ending up burying her face in Kang Hyun’s shoulder—a mix of squabbling and laughter.

Tax deductions would’ve been nice, though. Signing the contract yesterday would’ve halved them.

‘Oh well, I’ve got this instead.’

Pulling out a platinum card, Kang Hyun smirked. Courtesy of Section Chief Choi, the card offered 90% discounts at state-affiliated awakened supply stores.

Unlimited use, but the discounted amount counted as debt, repayable only if he renounced his nationality. Otherwise? Essentially no debt. Even if there were, it would be wiped clean upon a future contract.

A well-disguised bribe begging him not to defect. It wasn’t a bad deal.

“Apprentice, stop staring at the account. Let’s hit the dungeon.”

“Ooh, dungeon! Yes, sir!”

Time for the day’s run and some shopping afterward.

###

Chief Choi clutched his head, deep in thought.

“…They won’t be able to ignore our support forever.”

The F-tier section had been easy enough, but E-tier was a different story.

Between each tier was a wall. Unlike the novice-friendly F-tier, E-tier marked the start of serious awakened activity.

“In other words, a solo perfect clear is absolutely impossible.”

A team or some kind of assistance would definitely be necessary—services the government could provide.

If he could slip in benefits they couldn’t refuse under that guise…

“It’s here! A perfect clear!”

“What!?”

No way. An E-tier?

Could it really be done?

He listened to his team’s chatter.

“Wow, that stamina is monstrous.”

“Right? Has that person ever skipped a day of perfect clears?”

“They didn’t do it yesterday, though. Were they too tired?”

One of the staff, casually scrolling through internet comments, chimed in.

“The progress is already at 100%, but every time a perfect clear pops up, people go crazy for it.”

“Turn off the comments, rookie. They’re about to fill up with hate.”

“Yeah, all that’s directed at us.”

“What can we do? We’ve got to track them down quickly…”

Chief Choi flinched but said nothing.

The possibility of a leak had to be minimized until the contract was secured.

“By the way, Chief, any progress on finding that perfect clear?”

“Yeah, you were super busy until two days ago. What about now—”

“Wait! What’s the grade of this perfect clear? It’s not E-tier, is it?”

Standing abruptly to cut off the conversation, Chief Choi shouted,

“It’s F+!”

“…I see.”

Relieved, he placed a hand on his chest, prompting laughter from his team.

“Come on, Chief. Don’t get your hopes up for an E-tier perfect clear.”

“Exactly. Solo perfect clears are only possible for F-tier.”

“No one can do it solo in E-tier.”

“Haha, true enough. Let’s just find them quickly and pair them with a capable team.”

Right, it’s impossible after all.

“They know that too, which is why they haven’t tackled E-tier yet.”

By now, they were probably disheartened, stuck at the wall.

Time to reach out and nudge them along.

He pulled out his phone and made the call, mind whirring with plans to wedge in their support.

###

Having cleared the dungeon, Kang Hyun looked at his weapon.

“This sword’s done for.”

The short sword he’d been issued as support when he first registered was now little more than scrap, ready to break.

“Why not get a new one with your platinum card?”

“Maybe I will.”

Though awakened gear was notoriously expensive, he decided to browse for now.

But first, the rewards.

“Ah, another useless reward.”

A Dried Shincheonsu Elixir

“Great in the past, but now it doesn’t boost my stats.”

The potion only worked when his magic was at F-tier.

“I’ll save it for crafting or something.”

Kang Hyun was an expert in potion handling. Potions could be used in many ways—combined to enhance their effects, sold for a profit, or even refined into something new.

“Potions are rare and fetch a good price, so it should sell well.”

For now, he decided to hold onto it.

“The rewards from F-tier feel lacking these days.”

“True. Let’s aim for E-tier tomorrow.”

“Really? You’re going for it? The difficulty, though…”

“Hang on, I’ve got a call.”

He pulled out his phone.

“Hello, Chief Choi.”

[It’s nothing major, just saw the perfect clear alert and thought I’d check in.]

“Yes, I just finished clearing it.”

[Ah, great work! You said you’d call before tackling a dungeon, but I figured I’d reach out anyway, just in case.]

Kang Hyun hadn’t yet received permission for E-tier. But now?

That discussion was over. A single call to Chief Choi would be enough.

It was the perfect one-touch reporting system, leaving no trace of his solo runs—a special privilege no one else in the country had.

“No need to trouble someone as busy as you with something so minor. It’s just a simple F+ clear.”

His weapon in poor condition, he’d held off on E-tier today.

“I’ll contact you when I tackle E-tier.”

[Haha, thank you for being considerate. By the way, is there… anything else you’d like to mention?]

“Anything else? Hmm…”

Was there something?

“Oh, thanks for the card.”

[Ah… the card. Yes, I’m glad you’re making good use of it. But, well, aside from that…]

“Yes?”

He faintly caught Chief Choi mumbling.

Something like, “If you’re struggling, feel free to request more…”

It was too quiet to make out clearly. What was he saying?

[Ah, never mind. I suppose it’s not time yet.]

“Not time? For what?”

[Anyway, great work. Please take it easy!]

Click.

The call ended.

As usual, his voice had been full of energy.

“Well, since it’s been mentioned, let’s go buy some weapons.”

“Awesome! I’ve always wanted to visit an awakened gear shop!”

“Why would you want to visit that kind of place?”

He hailed a taxi on his phone.

“Those shops are ultra-high-end, way fancier than luxury stores. Just seeing them makes my heart race.”

“There’s plenty to admire. Ah, here’s the taxi.”

“A taxi! A symbol of extravagance!”

“…I won’t let you starve, so ease up on the dramatics.”

The two headed to the shop.