Chapter 16: The Price of Support

Having spent gold lavishly, Shin Ji-ho found his personal funds insufficient. He ultimately resorted to dipping into the guild’s public coffers.

It hardly mattered, as this equipment wasn’t for his personal use but rather to support the guild members.

He continued his purchases, and soon even the guild’s communal funds were nearly depleted.

Such expenditures would severely impede the guild’s operations next month. However, Shin Ji-ho had a reliable contingency.

‘I just need to sell the magic stone,’ he thought.

This was the magic stone Seon Tae-woong had provided, estimated to be worth 1.2 billion gold.

The auction house had set its starting bid at 1 billion.

With Awakened individuals specializing in crafting skills currently rising in prominence, magic stones—essential materials for their work—were highly sought after.

If bidding competition proved fierce, he could reasonably anticipate the price climbing as high as 2.5 billion.

Of course, even at 2.5 billion, selling a three-attribute magic stone would still incur a loss.

Yet, despite wishing for its true value to be recognized, he lacked any means to prove it.

He desperately needed gold for his S-rank promotion, leaving no time to leisurely seek out alternative methods.

Thus, he had listed it for a price far below its potential, fully aware of its greater worth.

Though his gut twisted with regret, Shin Ji-ho decided to be content, especially since he himself had acquired other items at a bargain.

It was, in essence, a psychological victory.

As the auction progressed, the quality of the items presented steadily climbed.

By this point, only items accurately appraised and fetching their true market value remained, leaving Shin Ji-ho with little incentive to bid.

‘No, in truth, there are a few things I *do* want to acquire,’ he mused.

Shin Ji-ho’s thoughts drifted to his current equipment, likely stored in the guild office.

Originally, Shin Ji-ho had equipped himself entirely with gear suited for physical enhancement.

However, with his skills having completely shifted to the support archetype, he now required a full overhaul of his equipment.

Shin Ji-ho sought equipment that either increased magic power by a percentage, offered magic recovery options, or could store accumulated magic.

HIs newly acquired skill drew its power directly from Shin Ji-ho’s own magic reserves as its caster.

While the skill could be amplified by absorbing ambient magic, dungeons existed in another world. Therefore, having equipment capable of storing pre-acquired magic would be highly advantageous.

Naturally, acquiring new gear hinged entirely on the successful sale of the magic stone.

He would also need to retain a comfortable reserve of gold, as it might be necessary for future contracts with high-ranking hunters.

He decided he would first confirm the magic stone’s successful bid, then allocate funds from the remaining budget.

Although payment was typically processed after the auction concluded, given that the buyer was Cheongram Department Store, he could likely arrange for an early settlement.

Mentally calculating his finances, Shin Ji-ho remained intently focused on the auction, hoping a suitable item might still surface.

As the auction proceeded in full swing, a sudden commotion erupted from beyond the main hall.

Shin Ji-ho, completely absorbed by a newly presented piece of promising equipment, had no time to spare for the disturbance outside.

Another hunter outbid Shin Ji-ho, and as he momentarily calculated before conceding with a deep sigh, a new presence arrived.

Someone settled into the adjacent seat he had deliberately left vacant.

Shin Ji-ho’s brow furrowed instinctively.

‘This is assigned seating,’ he thought, ‘so why is someone just taking a seat without permission?’

‘Have they recognized me?’

It was highly probable it was a reporter who had snuck in, or perhaps a hunter harboring a deep grudge against him.

Such incidents had occurred quite often in the past.

Shin Ji-ho turned his head, fully intending to discreetly deter the unwelcome individual beside him.

However, the person who met Shin Ji-ho’s gaze was far more familiar than any reporter or unknown hunter.

“…Joo Yi-won?”

“Hello, darling.”

Seeing Shin Ji-ho’s stunned expression, Joo Yi-won smiled with distinct satisfaction.

As Shin Ji-ho scrutinized Yi-won, his mind raced.

‘Joo Yi-won certainly shouldn’t have a dungeon raid scheduled for today,’ he thought.

Had he perhaps left work to deal with a sudden rift? Over his three-piece suit, Joo Yi-won wore what could only be described as his trademark armor.

Though it resembled a simple black long coat, it was, in fact, SS-grade defensive gear capable of absorbing most magical attacks.

“What is it? Why are you here?”

‘If he just came from a fight, he must be exhausted; he should rest,’ Shin Ji-ho thought.

Swallowing his words of concern, Shin Ji-ho pulled the brim of his hat lower.

If he was seen interacting with Joo Yi-won, others would undoubtedly realize that Shin Ji-ho was the one seated here.

He wanted no part of such troublesome attention.

Noticing Shin Ji-ho’s discomfort, Yi-won casually surveyed their surroundings.

Though it was merely a fleeting glance, every hunter whose gaze met Yi-won’s fell under the illusion that they had made direct eye contact.

In that instant, Yi-won’s eyes gleamed with a brilliant golden light, as luminous as the overhead lamps.

A potent surge of murderous intent, enough to fell an ordinary person, descended upon them.

Even seasoned hunters found the sheer pressure unbearable.

The hunters who had been observing them subtly averted their gazes, as if in flight, and refocused on the ongoing auction.

Smiling contentedly, Yi-won turned his attention back to Shin Ji-ho.

“I came because I wanted to see you, darling.”

“Well, I don’t want to see your face.”

Shin Ji-ho retorted fiercely.

It had only been a week since Yi-won had spewed commands and nonsense about Shin Ji-ho quitting his hunter profession.

Although Shin Ji-ho had been startled by Seon Tae-woong’s press conference, fumbled for a moment, and eventually bade Yi-won farewell, a lingering resentment still simmered within him.

“I’m sorry about that.”

The swift apology felt far from sincere.

When Shin Ji-ho’s eyebrow twitched in clear displeasure, Yi-won lowered his gaze.

“I acted out of concern. You were often ill as a child, and I hate seeing you struggle. Even if your re-evaluation goes smoothly, the life of a hunter is never easy, and it’s inherently dangerous.”

“I’m fine.”

Shin Ji-ho cut short the rambling explanation with a decisive answer.

Regardless of what was said, he had no intention of quitting now.

After years of struggling, he had finally acquired a useful skill. To give up now would be utterly preposterous.

Observing the unyielding resolve in Shin Ji-ho’s eyes, Yi-won let out a sigh.

“You bought quite a lot at the auction. So, are you really going to keep being a hunter?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Just quit. What’s so fun about it that you insist on doing it?”

The persistent attempts at persuasion made Shin Ji-ho bristle.

Yet, Yi-won himself was the most diligent hunter in the world.

Conscious of their auction house setting, Shin Ji-ho leaned closer to Yi-won, striving to keep his voice down.

“Damn it, you said you’d quit and support me, but now you’re telling *me* to give up? You do whatever you want, so why don’t *you* quit instead!”

Shin Ji-ho hissed the words, almost spitting them out in their close proximity, then panted with indignation.

Yi-won simply watched Shin Ji-ho, then grinned, and abruptly placed a hand on his waist.

Before a startled Shin Ji-ho could even attempt to push him away, Yi-won pulled him into a tight embrace.

Shin Ji-ho struggled, punching Yi-won’s arm in an attempt to push him off, but Yi-won seemed utterly unfazed, as if he hadn’t felt even a tickle.

Instead, he merely smiled and whispered low into Shin Ji-ho’s ear.

“Have you finally decided you want me to be your house-husband?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I want to retire too, but I suppose I’ll have to postpone it. It’s better to simply give up on marriage than to marry and then, while playing the supportive spouse, drive my husband into mortal peril. After all, I love Ji-ho.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Or perhaps I should cause a little trouble right here?”

Yi-won’s voice dropped to a sinister whisper.

Even to Shin Ji-ho, who typically dismissed Yi-won’s words as utter nonsense, this particular tone sounded profoundly ominous.

Shin Ji-ho stopped punching and stared at Yi-won. Yi-won simply grinned.

“I’d do something here that would make it impossible for Ji-ho to show his face in public again. You’d be socially ruined, but it’s better than dying, isn’t it? I’ll take responsibility for the rest of your life.”

‘What kind of incident would lead to social ruin?’ Shin Ji-ho wondered.

Suddenly, Shin Ji-ho’s mind was awash with crimson. ‘Surely he’s not thinking of a massacre here, is he?’

Though he knew Yi-won wasn’t *that* insane, his confident demeanor filled Shin Ji-ho with a terrible premonition.

“Just you dare try something like that.”

“Do you even know what ‘something like that’ implies?”

“It’s obvious…”

“Whatever you’re imagining, I assure you, your thoughts and mine are vastly different.”

“Whatever it is, just don’t do it. And let go of me.”

‘What a complete lunatic.’

Shin Ji-ho punched and squirmed in disgust, and Yi-won finally released him.

Shin Ji-ho pulled his half-fallen hat firmly back down and glanced around.

No one seemed to be staring, yet at this point, their interaction had surely exposed him anyway.

After only a few minutes of Yi-won’s presence, Shin Ji-ho already felt utterly exhausted.

Shin Ji-ho pulled his chair back, creating a significant distance between them. Then, ignoring Yi-won, he turned his attention to the items on auction.

“So, you’re going to see this through to the end, then…”

“…”

Shin Ji-ho ignored him, offering no reply. Finally, after a long silence, Yi-won sighed.

“If you insist, then there’s nothing I can do. Keep being a hunter.”

“I’d do it even if you didn’t allow it!”

Shin Ji-ho shot back instantly, and Yi-won gave a faint smile.

“Even if Ji-ho won’t marry me, I’ll support you as much as I can.”

“Bullshit…”

Shin Ji-ho’s cursing gaze shifted back to the side.

Just then, the magic stone he had put up for auction was being introduced.

Instantly, Shin Ji-ho’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

The final sale price would determine his future budget. No matter the amount, it would be a drastically undervalued price, but it still needed to sell for as much as possible.

Anxious about the magic stone’s final bid, Shin Ji-ho straightened his slumped posture.

“Is that yours?”

“Yes.”

Shin Ji-ho replied indifferently. Even as he spoke, the price continued to climb steadily. At this rate, it might even exceed 2 billion. That would be a fairly satisfactory sum.

Then, Yi-won, who had been quietly observing, stepped forward.

As the magic stone’s price slowly rose from 1.3 billion to 1.35 billion, the amount Yi-won bid was…

“Three hundred… 30 billion gold!”

It was an exorbitant sum, more than ten times the current bid.

Even the auctioneer, accustomed to such events, stammered in momentary surprise.

The sudden, multi-fold jump in the bid silenced the surrounding area.

Gazes that had previously avoided them subtly converged once more. After all, Joo Yi-won was the only person who would spend 30 billion on a magic stone typically valued between 1 billion and 3 billion.

Naturally, no one dared to bid a higher amount.

In the end, the magic stone Shin Ji-ho had listed was successfully auctioned for 30 billion gold.