Chapter 36: The Distance Between Two Worlds

The sharp, rasping sound of wind echoed violently.
To someone unaware of Yoo Hee-ro’s abilities, it would seem as though a sudden typhoon had struck — nothing visible, yet the dungeon was filled with a ferocious storm.

Monsters floating in the air plummeted all at once. Their black wings fluttered helplessly as they fell.
Yoo Ho-bin and the other party members were busy shielding themselves from the rain of monster remains.

In the midst of the chaos, Yoo Hee-ro alone stood composed and untouchable.
Not a single corpse landed anywhere near him.
Not a single drop of blood touched him.
With an immaculate expression, he looked down at those crawling on the ground to avoid the monster rain.

Without a word, he stepped forward again.
The main monster, all of its underlings slaughtered, finally began preparing an attack.

But Yoo Hee-ro didn’t give it the chance.
He refined his black whip to an edge and severed the monster’s life in a single strike.

For the first time today, a single drop of blood splattered onto his cheek.
That thick, fishy monster smell rose.
He wiped it away with the back of his hand and looked ahead.
The dungeon exit opened.

“Woah… holy crap. What was that?”

“Damn… this bastard isn’t normal.”

As if they had never groveled at all just moments ago, Yoo Ho-bin and Park Jun-soo held their heads high and hurried after Hee-ro.
They were bolder than usual, boasting about how he was their junior, but at least they had learned something — they no longer dared sling an arm over his shoulder.
If anything, they were careful not to even brush against him.
The sight was amusing enough that Hee-ro let out a thin, sardonic chuckle.

The rest of the party followed quickly, afraid the exit might close.
They could hardly believe they had cleared the 28th floor dungeon in mere minutes.

If the situation had felt even slightly realistic, they might have been able to grasp Hee-ro’s level.
But this was absurd.
If they told anyone what they’d seen, they’d be mocked for delusion.

“…What was that?”

“What even happened?”

“No, seriously… what was that…?”

All they could do was ask questions with no answers.

Meanwhile, Yoo Ho-bin plopped down comfortably on the landing between the 28th and 29th floors and beckoned toward Hee-ro with an annoyingly smug gesture.

“How about a break, yeah?”

“…….”

Hee-ro didn’t answer and kept walking down the stairs.
Floor 29.
There was still a long way to go.
He wasn’t going to rest just because he had taken care of a mere fly.

But right at the next floor’s gate, Hee-ro stopped and looked back.

Ho-bin smirked, certain he had been right.

“See? Going in alone is scary, right? Quit bluffing and sit down. Even mountain hikers take breaks — you’ll fry your brain rushing through a dungeon like that.”

Hee-ro narrowed his eyes and looked past Ho-bin, toward the party members.
They froze instantly.

“Have you ever run into someone named Sung Ji-woo? Or heard anything about him?”

They were momentarily shocked to hear Hee-ro speak for the first time.
Then, in panic, they all tried to push the answer off onto someone else.
Eventually, the one standing at the edge was forced to respond.

“N-no, I haven’t. S-Sung Ji-woo… who is that? Someone famous?”

Ho-bin snorted and cut in.

“Why’re you asking clueless rookies? Ask me instead.”

Hee-ro looked at him as if telling him to go ahead and talk.
Ho-bin, intimidated, instantly backed down.

“…Well, I mean… I didn’t see him after entering the gate. But he’s probably one or two floors ahead of us?”

There was no need to listen further.
Hee-ro immediately entered the 29th floor.

“Hey! What the—? You’re just gonna walk away? HEY! YOU LITTLE—!”

Ho-bin’s voice echoed loudly behind him.
Hee-ro ignored it, opened the gate—
and darkness swallowed him whole.

“Hm~ hm-hmm~.”

Under the warm afternoon sun, Sung Ji-woo hummed as he carried an enormous box, nearly the size of his torso.

< Sungji Pilgrimage General Store >

He paused proudly to admire the sign, then hauled the box into the workshop.

Thud.

The floor vibrated heavily.

“Ooow…”

Seeing him wipe sweat and pat his back, Park Soo-jin, guild master of Knocker, clicked her tongue.

“You’re too young to be making grandpa noises. I knew something was off when you chose that old-fashioned shop name. Kid, how old are you?”

Ji-woo paused to calculate.
If he included his previous life…

“I graduated high school two— cough— years ago, so I’m twen— couGH— ty-two this year.”

Kang Joo-an, struggling with the last box, answered for him.

“Thanks,” Ji-woo said, handing Joo-an a cup of water.

Two years had already passed since he opened the shop after high school.
Recently, he’d been learning firsthand the struggles of running a business.
The shop wasn’t failing — but it wasn’t exactly booming either.

He did have regulars, though.
Quite a few had become attached to Ji-woo’s personalized artifacts.
Some even kept quiet about the shop on purpose, afraid they’d lose access to his custom work if it became popular.

His biggest business partner was Knocker.
He received materials from Knocker and sold them finished artifacts in return.

“Is my shop name really that tacky?”

Ji-woo frowned as he handed Soo-jin an iced americano.

“Yes. Very. I told you — you should’ve named it ‘Gwangmyeong’.”

“Gwangmyeong” was Soo-jin’s favorite shop-name candidate.
Ji-woo had rejected it for being far too grandiose for a neighborhood general store…
only to choose “Sungji Pilgrimage” instead.

“Kwangmyeong or Sungji Pilgrimage… they’re basically the same level,” Kang Joo-an commented.

At his feet sat a cheerful large dog wagging its tail.

“Well, ‘Pilgrimage’ is our mascot,” Joo-an added. “Makes the name easier for people to remember.”

Hearing its name, the dog “Sun-rye” happily licked Joo-an’s hand.

Ji-woo picked up the empty water dish. The floor was soaked — Sun-rye had made a mess again.
He wiped the floor and refilled the bowl.

“Sun-rye, water.”

Instantly recognizing its master’s voice, Sun-rye bounded over, circled him three times, wagged its tail wildly, then buried its snout in the bowl.

“Now that I think about it, Mina’s returning in about three months,” Joo-an remarked.

Ji-woo blinked.

“Already? Feels like she left yesterday.”

Running the shop had made time blur. Seasons changed the moment he opened his eyes.

“When did we last send them supplies?”

“Two months ago.”

Two months earlier, Ji-woo had sent artifact supplies to his three friends.
Joo-an nodded.

“Then no need to send more.”

“Yeah. They’ll be back soon anyway. And honestly… the last shipment still hasn’t shown as received.”

Supplies inside a gate were delivered via drone or robot.
Gates didn’t treat non-living things as intruders — the one advantage.
But the downside was that accidents couldn’t be handled.
Supplies were often lost or destroyed.

‘I’ve never gotten anything myself, so…’

In his previous life, Ji-woo had never received a letter or a supply package.
He had no one who would send him anything.

So sending supplies was new for him too.
He had no idea how they were delivered, or if they even reached their destination.

‘If they go missing… it’s not like it’s my fault. Happens all the time.’

No reason to stress over it.

Then Joo-an suddenly clapped.

“Oh right — the artifact you made when you first worked as an intern! Did it get delivered properly?”

Ji-woo nodded.

“Yes.”

He had forgotten, then hastily given it away on graduation day — but at least he gave it.

“They… haven’t used it yet, right?”

“…I’m not sure. I haven’t talked to him since. He’s probably somewhere inside X-Gate right now.”

Joo-an looked a bit disappointed.

“It was the first artifact with two activation restrictions. I really wanted to know how it works in practice. If you ever get the chance, could you ask him?”

“…If the chance comes.”

Ji-woo answered, but he knew that chance likely wouldn’t.

Yoo Hee-ro was someone who would rise as a star hunter.
Ji-woo would stay here, at his shop.

Their worlds were drifting apart.
Maybe Hee-ro would someday remember him vaguely —
‘Oh yeah… I think I had a senior like that…?’

And that would be enough for Ji-woo.