“They were a rising star.”
Tudor narrowed her eyes and began to speak about Gong I-su.
“Bubblehead. That is, Gong I-su—suddenly appearing as if sprung from the earth—and in no time solving an incredible number of cases. All of them were insanely dangerous and baffling.”
Tudor’s voice continued in a lyrical rhythm.
“Apart from those amazing abilities, they were famous for strange words and actions and an unusual appearance. You met them yourself this time, didn’t you?”
“Their head was a bit odd.”
I answered with layered meaning.
“That’s right. In many ways, they were someone like you.”
A newcomer who appeared out of nowhere. Many cases solved, incredible abilities, strange speech, unusual appearance—even an odd head.
“My head’s still attached just fine.”
“Ha ha—down to the fact their appearance suited your taste, they were like you.”
You can guess Tudor’s taste from Obe alone. Preferring something other than a head attached to the body?
“Did you ever try to strike a deal?”
“Hmm... To be honest, I tried all kinds of flattery, but they never budged.”
“Is that all the useful information you have?”
“Well? If you want, I could hand over the records of the problem solvers who dealt with Gong I-su back then, but most of them are either retired or dead, so it’d be equally useless.”
“I see...”
I expected Tudor to have a connection if Gong I-su had been active as a problem solver, so this was strange.
“Heh heh, seeing how concerned you are—”
Tudor drew out her words slowly, her smile the perfect curve of polished ivory.
“Well, there must have been something.”
“Hmm—actually, it’s nothing major. I told you, I tried to woo them several times. It was just that I had a few private conversations.”
“What did they say?”
Tudor cleared her throat once, then imitated Gong I-su’s voice.
“‘Your wish has already been granted, lovely beauty.’”
“....”
“Huh? You’re not thinking strange thoughts, are you?”
“Maybe—in a slightly different tone?”
And instead of ‘beauty,’ they probably said ‘witch.’
“Hmph. Right. They told me not to bother them anymore. They didn’t want any further entanglement with me. Honestly—”
“So what was the wish they mentioned?”
“Telling a newbie solver who’d been debuting less than a year to make a wish? Ridiculous.”
Tudor replied as if it were absurd. But then she glanced at me sideways before continuing.
“They said Vasiliisa was created thanks to them. At the time I thought they were insane, but...”
“So that came out later? Gong I-su—”
“That’s right. After a while rumors spread that they had time-travel abilities. So I mulled it over later. And actually, that dossier was easy to acquire because of that—”
“I understand.”
So Tudor had investigated separately because Gong I-su’s words and actions bothered her.
“Yes. Maybe Gong I-su granted some wish for me without my knowledge? I thought. Heh heh—in that sense, you see.”
Tudor waved her hand to the left.
Screeee—
The desk that had been between us slid left as if blown away by her gesture.
“Huh?”
She spread her arms wide as if to embrace me and said,
“Create greater twists and upheavals in this world—chaos, confusion, entanglement, mutation, all of it is what I desire.”
Bright red hair streamed like grotesque tentacles. Fingers as pale and slender as beasts’ jaws.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“It was a wish, you know?”
“A wish?”
“I’ve watched everything you’ve been doing all this time—and you always seem to grant whoever asks you for something, right?”
“Me?”
“Just now, when Thirteen asked Collie to lose, you immediately complied, didn’t you?”
“With just that—I mean, come on—”
“Oh? Did you think I’d judge you by only that? Granted, not every spoken word becomes reality. There must be conditions or rules. What could they be?”
Tudor smiled with chilling beauty.
“When did you come to Paju, and how? Who made what wish at that time?”
“What are you even saying?”
“Ha ha—just kidding.”
Gr-r-r—
The desk that had shifted returned to its place.
“Well, whatever it is, making a wish in advance can’t hurt, right? If fulfilling it right now is difficult, at least let me later relocate Vasiliisa’s operations to a five-story building near Unjeong Station.”
“...You could do that even now, couldn’t you?”
“Ugh—true, since I have the money. But there are so many things in this neighborhood that money alone can’t achieve.”
If a dark broker like Tudor operated out of a building near Unjeong Station instead of Geumchon dong’s back alleys, she’d have pressure from all sides.
“A reliable ally would make relocation more enjoyable. In that sense, I wish you’d grow a bit more.”
“A wish, huh? After spouting such strange talk, you end on that conclusion? You’ve been doing a lot of work lately.”
I currently have sixteen active commissions. Oh, I resolved three today, so now there are thirteen?
“Well, that’s true. What’s gotten into you lately to work so hard?”
Yesterday I cleared about five quests tied to the [Predator in the Mountains] sanctum.
Since I can recall all quest routes and structures, I accept every job in similar locations and clear them all at once. It’s basic know-how to save playtime in an open-world game.
“Oh, you—speaking of which, want to try this too? It’s a commission from Yeonam Construction.”
“Yeonam Construction?”
“Yes. They’re building some research facility on Seorak Mountain and need escorts. Because of vested-interest or environmental issues, local powers have even hired problem solvers to obstruct them.”
Ah, so this is what Moon Seung-hee’s been up to. A quest involving ancient beings—or rather, Elder Things.
“I’m not interested. Although I’ve gotten many Yeonam-related jobs recently, none were because of Yeonam.”
“Hmm... I can’t make heads or tails of your criteria for accepting commissions these days. Could you tell me your criteria?”
“If it’s related to the Gastronomic Expedition, I accept unconditionally.”
“Gastronomic Expedition? Those lunatics—wait, today’s completed one was Sangbulsa...”
Tudor pressed her finger to her mouth, pondering, then her face lit up.
“Ha—hospital? Right, now I get it. You were roughing up those who attacked you back then?”
“In simple terms, yes.”
“You’re quite the brat.”
“What brat? If someone hits you first, you strike back.”
“Revenge begets revenge. As a capable problem solver, focus on matters that serve your own interests.”
“I’m not really interested in personal gain.”
Likewise, I’m not interested in money. What would I do with it? Eventually I’ll return to my original world before this one falls apart.
“Anyway, now I know what you want. If something like that shows up, I’ll let you know.”
“Good. Oh, and that thing from earlier—”
“That thing?”
“The bounty. Specifically, who placed it? Everyone’s chuckling like it’s a joke, but...”
That absurd sum of one hundred billion.
If a ‘real’ one-hundred-billion-won bounty had been officially placed on me, there’d already have been chaos.
“That? The government issued the wanted notice. The money came from the Hunter Guild.”
“I thought so.”
“Also, did you know you can cut off your own arm and earn thirty million won for a mask? That one’s from Daejeon City, so it’s real money.”
“...I know.”
“If you can get a hundred billion for capturing the mage? A hundred billion? Really one hundred billion?”
Jang Hyundeok gasped.
A dry wrinkle formed on Heo Sang-hyeon’s pale brow.
“That’s an absurd amount. How can a sum equal to a small city’s monthly budget be placed on someone?”
“Whoa—what could you do with a hundred billion?”
“Actually, the amount is meaningless, so don’t worry about it. And Hyundeok, why are you expecting to share in that bounty?”
“It’s meaningless? With that sum, problem solvers could form a team to hunt the mage.”
A hundred people could pool ten billion each.
“This is from the Hunter Guild. Even if they try that, they won’t get paid.”
“Ah, those crazy folks? Then—”
Hyundeok’s face fell.
“So even if they capture the mage, they won’t get the money.”
“Right. But something will come.”
“Phew, with the Hunter Guild backing it, I won’t get hurt then. Thank goodness.”
“What? As long as you’re not harmed, it’s fine?”
“You said don’t worry!”
“But if you reassure yourself like that, I’ll be insulted!”
Heo Sang-hyeon, watching our bickering with his corpse-like expression, finally spoke up.
“Hmm... Hyundeok, what is this Hunter Guild?”
Ah, Heo Sang-hyeon doesn’t know about that.
“Ah, the Hunter Guild is—uh, how should I explain?”
Hyundeok glanced at me.
I sighed and answered Sang-hyeon’s question.
“Sang-hyeon, the Hunter Guild is an association of PVP-obsessed old fools... no, of bounty hunters.”
Originally a vested-interest group for professional bounty hunters, about ten years ago a new chairperson took over, and it turned into a bizarre pride-ridden club for misfits.
“In short, even if you capture me, you won’t get money unless you’re a Hunter Guild member. And customarily you return 90–100% of the bounty you receive.”
“Return 100%?”
“Yes, so the Guild can place bounties on the next target, right?”
“What...? Then that bounty is—”
Exactly: the talk of one hundred billion was just idle showmanship. That’s why other problem solvers titillated themselves watching.
“It simply served as verification that this target is a major figure.”
It sounds absurd in reality, but this is the nature of the game.
‘Perhaps they desperately forced an explanation for why a wanted player can still use social infrastructure while under bounty.’
The Hunter Guild itself operates like a rotating mutual-aid fund, but the money they manage truly exists.
And the monster who earned such massive bounties is active in the Guild as a member.
Soon—likely sooner than the rumored dawn of Seocheon-sle—
‘An event far surpassing the usual outpost defense events will occur.’
True monsters who’ve been active since the great collapse twenty years ago will come to hunt me.
“I have enough on my plate already. What a pain.”
Well, they won’t show up in a day or two, right?
Lost in such calculations, Heo Sang-hyeon approached with a determined look.
“To protect you, I—”
“No, Sang-hyeon, you don’t need to do anything. Instead, we should strengthen the barrier around the mansion and Jangmyeongsan.”
“Hmm—are you sure?”
“Of course.”
If anyone had to do something, it shouldn’t be Sang-hyeon...
I glanced at Jang Hyundeok.
“Acheilles! You little rascal! Ha ha ha!”
He’d already lost interest in bounty talk and was happily petting Achilles.
Raising the barrier and protective wards around Hyundeok is one option, but...
“Hey, Hyundeok—”
“Yes?”
“You said you wanted to learn magic before?”
“You did. Why?”
“Want me to teach you?”
“Really? You’d actually—grant that wish of mine?”
“.......”
“Huh? Why that reaction?”
“That was your wish?”
“Ah—of course. Magic is so cool.”
“That was a wish, huh?”
“Hmm—why?”
“Nothing. Earlier, I heard something that struck me.”
“Something that struck you?”
Did Hyundeok’s wish prompt me to decide to teach him magic?
‘Tudor really says unnecessary things that stick in your head.’
If it were genuine, I’d have taught him long ago. This decision is unrelated to Hyundeok’s wish.
“In any case, I’ll teach you something like magic.”
