Chapter 24: Team Bonding (2)

Thud!

A 5-meter-long Galcien collapsed backward, and Ion spun gracefully.

He moved to toss his blood-splattered robe but paused. Spectators wondered why, then saw the reason: a small, slightly purple wildflower bloomed where he’d aimed.

Boom! Roar! Crash!

Nearby, Jin Seongha was slaughtering another Galcien, lightning storms flashing. The delicate wildflower Ion was watching trembled, nearly uprooted.

Ion’s large, green eyes turned icy.

“Jin Seongha Hunter!” he shouted.

Jin Seongha, yanking out a Galcien’s horn, replied, “What’s up?”

“You could handle it quietly—why make a spectacle with your skills? What if your lightning starts a wildfire? Save the storms for dungeons!”

“I’m here to practice controlling lightning storms across different ranges.”

“You already master them perfectly—stop practicing! How much more perfect do you need to be? Be reasonably diligent!”

Though Ion’s tone was sharp, the content was oddly complimentary.

Funnily, Jin Seongha nodded, halting his training.

While the team leader and Hunters cleaned up the monster corpses and wrecked area, Jin Seongha crouched beside Ion, who was admiring the purple wildflower.

“Cosmos?” Jin Seongha asked.

“It’s an Aster koraiensis. A fall flower, blooming early.”

“Looks like a cosmos.”

“It’s a Korean endemic species.”

“A purple cosmos, then.”

“…”

The atmosphere chilled, and the conversation died.

Sometimes, the roles reversed.

“Ion Corps Leader! Just snap its neck—why throw it into the bushes? You nearly ruined a nest!” Jin Seongha shouted, catching a monster’s horn Ion had tossed and throwing it back.

Ion dismissed his sword and approached.

Pru! The monster Pippi on Jin Seongha’s shoulder darted into his clothes.

Unfazed, Jin Seongha crouched at the edge of the training ground’s reed bed, eyeing a bird’s nest made of dry grass and animal fur, with a brown-feathered bird.

“Sparrow?” Ion asked.

“Reed warbler. Slimmer body, longer beak than a sparrow.”

“Looks like a sparrow.”

“It’s called a reed warbler because it sings ‘gegebi, gegebi.’”

“A skinny sparrow.”

“…”

The air turned frosty again.

They weren’t hostile, but their clashing interests created a cycle of tension.

Later, when they got close, spectators’ hearts raced.

Are they gonna fight?

They sync so well in combat—why are their tastes so different?

Someone step in and separate them!

Guild members and mercenaries exchanged glances.

“Uh, Jin Seongha Hunter, I heard a bird earlier—what was it? Haha,” a guild member said.

“Ion, what’s that flower over there? Haha,” a mercenary asked.

Guild members pulled Jin Seongha away, mercenaries took Ion.

Hunters felt pride in tackling an S+ dungeon but also fear and pressure.

S-rank dungeons typically take months. The first phase clears 50%, then Hunters return with a stone to regroup before finishing the rest.

But the Naju dungeon’s goal was to clear it in one try, without return stones.

Korea had no record of clearing an S-rank dungeon in one go. Neighboring countries had, so shouldn’t Korea? Clearing an S+ dungeon first-try would shock the world, fueling public expectations.

Veteran gate Hunters died without time to use return stones.

Even with Jin Seongha, was one S-rank enough?

Failing to clear without a return stone could lead to death or an overflow.

Amid these fears, they trusted Jin Seongha and Ion, whose synergy gave confidence they could clear the S+ dungeon and return to their families.

But their non-combat clashes worried everyone.

“Ion doesn’t even know a sparrow from a reed warbler. Plants can’t exist without animals—he doesn’t get what’s superior. I’ll set him straight,” a guild member said.

“Haha, what does a kid know? Don’t waste time with a plant-obsessed weirdo, Jin Seongha Hunter,” another added.

Guild members backed Jin Seongha.

“Jin Seongha can’t tell a cosmos from an Aster koraiensis. Animals can’t exist without plants. I’ll enlighten him,” a mercenary said.

“Don’t bother with a weird animal lover who talks funny,” another replied.

Mercenaries supported Ion.

This rivalry kept the team’s harmony.

When the groups crossed paths, no fight broke out. Instead, they exchanged “good luck” looks.

By the end of the three-day training, Spec-1 Team learned Gwangunsan in Muju hosted native Korean plants like Aster koraiensis, Buxus sinica (boxwood), rare purple Dicentra peregrina, reed warblers singing “gegebi,” deep-nesting water rails, and tail-wagging yellow wagtails.

“Hey, that’s a reed warbler’s call! It’s nearby—where?” a Hunter said.

“Sorry to butt in, but at your 11 o’clock, two reed warblers are perched,” a mercenary replied.

“Thanks, mercenary!”

“Hey, Horizon! Watch your step—you almost crushed ants carrying Dicentra seeds!”

“Whoops, nearly disrupted a protected species’ reproduction. Thanks for the heads-up.”

Such exchanges became common.

After the final training, Team Leader Lee Jina gathered everyone.

“Well done, all. I believe this training boosted not just individual skills but teamwork too.”

Teamwork was debatable, but they’d definitely become more nature-loving and pastoral.

“Rest tomorrow. We enter the Naju dungeon Sunday. Say ‘I love you’ to family, lovers, friends. Dismissed.”

“Good work!”

“Good work!”

Hunters scattered. Ion turned to leave but was grabbed by Hong Insu, joined by Bae Younghoe and Shin Minji, who stuck together as former test team members.

“They’re letting us go early. Thought it’d be evening. Wanna grab dinner?” Shin Minji asked.

Bae Younghoe clucked his tongue. “As a father, I say your parents must be worried sick. Go home and ease their minds.”

“I don’t have parents.”

“…Uh, well, a boyfriend or best friend?”

“No boyfriend, and my friends died in the Cataclysm.”

“…Ahem. Come to my place for dinner?”

“Mister.”

“Hm?”

“Kidding! Haha, you believed me? I can’t keep up the guilt.”

“What?!” Bae Younghoe exclaimed.

Despite his rugged look, Bae was a kind-hearted man. As Shin Minji laughed, he fed her peanuts, fitting the Peanut Corps name.

Hong Insu, teasing Bae with her, flinched as his phone buzzed.

“It’s Mom. She knows training’s done.”

“Gonna calm your parents down?” Shin Minji asked.

“Yup. Mom’s been worried since before training. My highest dungeon was an 8-meter A-rank, and now I’m hitting Korea’s most dangerous one.”

“Understandable. So, who’ll I eat with? Ion, you and me?”

“I’ve got worried family too. Gotta go,” Ion lied shamelessly.

“Hm, no choice. Rest well. We’re counting on you and Jin Seongha!” Shin Minji waved, Bae Younghoe nodding with trust.

Ion’s training performance had earned unwavering confidence.

As the three left, only training staff, Ion, and Jin Seongha remained.

Jin Seongha nodded at Ion and headed to a secluded spot. Ion sighed and followed.

“You said you were hiding your rank,” Jin Seongha said under a large pine.

“…What do you mean?” Ion replied with a bright smile, his eyes scanning Jin Seongha’s chest.

Where’s Pippi perched…? On his pecs?

Pippi, nestled on Jin Seongha’s chest muscles, purred comfortably, and Jin Seongha seemed unfazed.

“This training will make everyone question your rank. You know that.”

Ion had been called in by Lee Jina on day one.

“Are you really B-rank? Since when do you have flame effects? Two skills? How’d you cut a Galcien’s horn in one strike?”

Since then, Ion stuck to one strategy.

“Guess I’m in top form today. Flame effects happen when I’m feeling good.”

“That was a lingering damage buff from Bae Younghoe’s skill—it’s amazing.”

Brazen denial.

Lee Jina and staff tried retesting his rank, but higher-ups ordered them to proceed as is—someone was protecting Ion.

That someone was Aide Daon.

“Decided to take my advice?” Jin Seongha asked.

“I’m not retesting. But I’ll join you in high-risk dungeons.”

“Thanks.”

Jin Seongha’s golden eyes warmed, pleased the boy was following his earlier advice.

“Last time—” Ion began.

“You said a technique to predict gate overflows was coming?”

“Yeah.”

“Who told you that?”

“I said then, it’s under contract.”

“S-rank nondisclosure?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“When was it signed? Recently? Long ago?”

“Pretty long ago.”

Jin Seongha tilted his head, answering readily until now.

“The important thing is, those remote rural dungeons you overwork on will soon be free from overflow risks.”

“I’m not exactly worried about rural folks.”

“Is that so?” Jin Seongha smiled, as if thinking, Dishonest kid.

“Let’s do well going forward, Corps Leader Ion.”

“…”

Ion looked at Jin Seongha’s extended left hand, adjusted his Sansevieria, and shook it.

Jin Seongha’s dazzling smile was breathtaking.

What would Teacher say about this?

Definitely not praise.

A nobody shaking hands with the protagonist?

Utterly unthinkable.