NOVEL NEXT CH 8
The dungeon located in Mansu Mountain was a cave-type dungeon.
Passing through the gate, it felt like suddenly entering the interior of the mountain’s rock formations.
I had been worried about the possibility of it being a jungle-type or freezing glacier-type dungeon, but it turned out to be quite manageable.
Despite being a cave, it wasn’t humid at all, and it was reasonably bright as if someone had installed artificial lighting. Aside from dust and the occasional scattering of stone fragments, the environment was easy to work in.
And the best part—my pickaxe felt like it was working with a booster attached.
“Heh heh. This is money, money.”
When I chipped away at the sturdy dungeon walls, small mana stones would occasionally roll out.
Since this was a C-rank dungeon, they weren’t of particularly high grade or size, but outside the dungeon, even these would sell for tens to hundreds of thousands of won each.
Of course, it was physically exhausting to keep striking the stone without stopping.
But after awakening to A-rank, my stamina had improved significantly, and I was definitely stronger than before. Plus, I found that this kind of work suited me.
“Phew, after the sweet potato harvesting experience, this is the most fun I’ve had.”
This one was worth 500,000 won. That one? 300,000 won.
Though I was technically working for a daily wage, I had also heard that there were incentives involved.
That’s the only reason Kang Han was doing this job—he was trying to at least cover the interest on his enormous debt, which was in the hundreds of billions of won.
Rather than risking failure in dungeon raids, earning a guaranteed income as a miner was the safer choice.
‘Not that the Justice Guild would even let him join their coalition raids.’
At the moment, Kang Han was digging alone, far away from where the rest of us were working.
“Time to eat!”
The team leader shouted energetically.
“Food! Finally!”
As expected from a man with authority, he pulled out bento boxes from a large bag, distributing them according to our numbers.
We all sat down in a circle a bit away from the messy worksite—everyone except Kang Han, of course.
“Oooh, pork cutlet!”
I decided that after eating, I might as well go and try talking to him.
Just as I took a big bite of the cutlet, a guy who was always overly polite to the team leader spoke up.
“Ah, right. Did you hear the news? They say an A-rank healer showed up.”
“Cough!”
Why are they talking about me here?
“I heard about that too! The Hunter community and even the aspirants’ forums were in chaos yesterday.”
Wait—there’s a community just for Hunters?!
“Not just the forums—it was even in the news.”
The news? Seriously?
“W-what did they say on the news?”
I hurriedly swallowed the pork cutlet and asked.
“Well, they couldn’t reveal personal details due to privacy laws, but…”
The team leader scratched his beard as he continued.
“They said it’s a woman in her twenties, and since it’s been three years since a healer last appeared, everyone’s going crazy. All four of the major guilds have expressed interest in recruiting her.”
“Recruitment offers?”
So *that’s* why I got all those unknown calls and messages yesterday.
I thought they were voice phishing scams and blocked them all!
“So, Yeojoo, why are you doing this kind of rough work? What’s your awakened ability?”
The guy next to me, who had been loudly smacking his lips while eating, suddenly asked.
“Well… because of money, obviously.”
“Ah, so you’ve got money problems too, huh?”
It *was* a problem—too much money can be a hassle, especially when you have to decide where to invest it.
Just when I thought I’d finally get to eat in peace, the guy leaned in closer.
“Come on, tell me just between us—what’s your rank? E? F?”
Why in the world would I trust *you* of all people?
And is it even appropriate to ask someone’s rank so openly like this? In the temporary job market, no one cared about ranks anyway.
Since the culture of this
“If I were a high rank, I’d be raiding with a guild. I’m just in the support category.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie—healers, after all, are non-combat support types.
Before he could pester me further, I quickly changed the subject.
“By the way, why does that guy eat separately?”
It was a subtle attempt to gauge their opinions.
Sure enough, some of them scowled the moment I asked.
“Don’t you know? He’s from the Justice Guild.”
“Ohhh.”
I gave a vague nod.
“Yeah, he thinks he’s too good to hang out with rejects like us.”
The woman sitting across from me glared at Kang Han as she spoke, and the others eagerly chimed in.
“He can’t even kill a C-rank monster, so how is he any different from us?”
“I don’t get it either! If he can’t even handle C-ranks, how is he an S-rank? At best, he’s D-rank.”
“And yet he has the nerve to call himself a guild master. He just gathered a bunch of outcasts that no other guild wanted.”
Wow, they’re really going off.
The mood became so harsh that even I felt embarrassed for bringing it up.
“Still… just based on looks, he’s S-rank.”
I mean, he *is* good-looking, right?
And like I mentioned this morning, even without special abilities, the physical capabilities of an S-rank are extraordinary.
In other words…
‘He can hear every word we’re saying.’
Sure enough, I saw Kang Han take a sip of water as if to confirm my suspicions.
I glanced at him briefly, feeling exasperated.
‘You stubborn idiot.’
I was certain this wasn’t the first time he had been ostracized and overheard nasty things said about him.
But instead of retaliating or arguing back, he endured it quietly.
He probably hated his own helplessness more than anyone else.
That was just the kind of person Kang Han was—someone who suffered in silence.
Feeling a lump in my throat, I took a sip of water too.
The guy next to me grinned and asked, “You’re done eating? Can I have the rest?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Who knows—this might be your last meal in this world.
The incident happened just as lunch was ending, with the day’s mining almost complete.
Suddenly, Kang Han abandoned his work and sprinted toward us, shouting, “Run!”
Behind him, a giant bat—easily the height of a three-story building—was flying with its wings spread wide.
It was a monster that should have been cleared out by the guild raiding this dungeon.
—
“What the hell!”
“Why is a monster here?! Wasn’t this place supposed to be safe?”
“I don’t want to die!”
Amid the panic, I activated my “See What You Know” skill.
—
[ **Giant Wingbat (C-rank)**
A bat-type monster that resides in cave-type dungeons.
Its eyesight is degenerated, but its hearing is exceptionally sharp. ]
—
“Damn it, a C-rank…”
This was a C-rank dungeon, meaning that this Wingbat was essentially the dungeon boss.
And worse, it was a flying-type monster.
For us, low-ranking awakened individuals without any flight abilities, this was the worst possible matchup.
“Shouldn’t we run? Maybe we can outrun it—”
“Are you crazy? It’ll kill us if we turn our backs on it!”
“Then what do we do?!”
People were growing more hysterical by the second, and the monster was closing in fast.
Trying to keep calm, I clenched my fists. Running wasn’t an option.
‘Damn it!’
The oppressive presence of the monster was far worse than I had imagined.
If C-ranks were like this, how would we handle A-ranks or S-ranks in the future?
What about the doomsday gate that would open soon?
As my legs wobbled, I realized that I wasn’t the only one paralyzed by fear.
Then, instead of fighting back, the others began to shout at Kang Han.
“Do something, damn it!”
“You’re S-rank, aren’t you?!”
—
Kang Han stood alone between us and the approaching Wingbat, electricity crackling faintly around his hands.
With a sharp screech, the Wingbat sensed danger and charged.
—
But the weak spark of electricity was deflected effortlessly by the monster’s thick hide.
The Wingbat, now enraged, circled above us like a predator toying with its prey.
And as if to make matters worse, the others resumed hurling insults at Kang Han.
—
Yet Kang Han remained silent, standing firm and saying, “I’ll hold it off—run while you can.”
—
I clenched my fists, knowing that in the original