Chapter 4: A Strong Stomach

#4

[Oriax, the demon of ‘Lemegeton’, lets out a small cough.]

‘If only I had known this, I would have written about Han Dokyeom in more detail.’

‘He was a character I had merely sketched out in a few lines at the beginning, never delving into the nuances of his portrayal. The same applied to Han Dokyeom’s seal.’

‘Moreover, in the worst-case scenarios, seals were sometimes used by hunters as a means of asserting dominance, pressing down on one another. In a situation like this, keeping his own hidden was crucial for survival.’

‘In short, it was a hellish situation.’

“Uncle, don’t you need money? Why are you dragging your feet? At this snail’s pace, when do you expect to arrive!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Can’t you see I’m moving?”

Han Dokyeom rubbed the back of his neck wearily, rising from the chair.

For a fleeting moment, he considered covering something, but quickly dismissed the thought, deeming it an overreaction. There was no guarantee he would even be targeted.

It had been ten days since he arrived. For now, simply surviving and earning a living took precedence.

****

The Han Dokyeom who lived within the pages first encountered Geon Ita when twilight descended before his eyes, just as he finished his work.

In a world where day and night blurred, the rising smoke shattered against the darkening sky.

Han Dokyeom saw the man laughing in the night air. Soundlessly, quietly. Yet, it was a smile so utterly lost, it seemed to be a bitter chuckle.

For the first time, he felt a profound catharsis. The smile that brought joy and solace to a Han Dokyeom who knew only tragedy through his misfortune, was both wretched and cunning.

Suddenly, he wanted to cry. The realization struck him that perhaps he wasn’t the only one burdened by misfortune.

While he fumbled through the fading memories of the text, Han Dokyeom was guided to a park, its roads choked with a long line of trucks.

It seemed the gate’s subjugation was already complete, as heavy machinery was being mobilized and moved towards it.

From the trucks blocking the road, hunters of all sizes, armed with shovels and pickaxes, swarmed out like an ant colony.

A rough estimate put the number of laborers at over a hundred. This indicated the immense scale of the conquered dungeon.

It made sense. In Dokyeom’s memory, Han Dokyeom’s encounter with Geon Ita occurred at the novel’s very beginning, the scene that sparked the entire narrative.

And it was no less than an S-rank gate — the very gate now before Dokyeom’s eyes.

Those mobilized as laborers were mostly low-grade D or E-rank hunters.

With little standing compared to higher-ranked hunters, these lower-tier individuals had banded together to secure this work, which had now expanded to the level of subcontracting teams.

“Foreman, one hunter here.”

“What? You bring just one guy and he walks in here all proud? How many did I tell you to bring, at minimum?”

“Ah, what am I supposed to do if there aren’t any? I barely managed to find this uncle and bring him here. Why did you have to start this raid just when a Gate Break happened in the upper district? That’s why all those hunters are nowhere to be seen!”

“Look at this punk talking back.”

“Ow, ow, ow! Uncle! Uncle! Let go of my ear, stop grabbing my ear!”

The boisterous youth was dragged around by his ear by the foreman until his eyes were bloodshot before finally being released.

Sending the huffing boy back to the street, the foreman eyed Dokyeom, then curtly gestured with his chin towards an array of equipment.

“I’ll trust you’ve done field work before. If the job’s done by sundown, I’ll pay you 50 for the day. For now, put on those clothes and join the carcass team immediately. And let me tell you, it’d be best not to try anything shady. Most everyone here, except for you, is from a subcontracting crew, and they’ll go wild if you try any tricks. Even I can’t handle them then.”

“Yes, but… do you provide meals here? I haven’t had breakfast.”

“Meals were handled earlier, so there’s none left. You can grab some bread and milk over there and take it with you. Ah, we’re busy, so let’s move a bit faster.”

At the foreman’s irritable tone, Dokyeom immediately donned the vest of the collection team and slung a pickaxe over his shoulder.

He then grabbed a carton of milk and four loaves of bread from the designated food area, heading towards the gate where a flashing beacon guided the laborers.

Their experienced gazes and movements suggested they were all professional hunter personnel.

The workforce entering was typically divided into three teams.

First, the Mining Team, responsible for excavating crucial ore. Next, the Collection Team, tasked with extracting magic stones from the carcasses of slain monsters. Finally, the Disassembly Team, which gathered hides and other vital materials from the monsters after the magic stones were removed.

Among these, Dokyeom had been assigned to the Collection Team.

It was a role that, without a doubt, required a strong stomach, instinctively avoided by most hunters, for it was, in its own way, a form of dissection.

“Hey there, buddy. Haven’t seen your face around. Are you a guerilla hunter, deployed on the fly?”

Someone beside him clapped Dokyeom on the shoulder, speaking with an easy familiarity.

It was a muscular man with a good-natured face, his laid-back personality evident at a glance.

“Yes, I heard they were short-staffed, but there seem to be quite a lot of people here?”

“I heard it’s an S-rank gate, and the dungeon is apparently quite deep. They said our crew alone wouldn’t cut it, so they called in all the other connected companies, but even that’s not enough. Which team were you assigned to, buddy?”

“I’m on the Collection Team.”

“Tsk, you got stuck with the tough one. Before you go in, eat that bread… seriously. You might lose your appetite.”

Pitying glances followed him from all directions.

It was understandable, given his scrawny appearance amidst a crowd of burly, muscular men. Dokyeom tore into a piece of bread and immediately began to chew.

At the end of the line, which snaked like a serpent, a vortex of blue ethereal energy, intermittently tinged with red light, swirled ominously.

The spiraling light, reminiscent of a black hole, reflected the distorted afterimage of a galaxy. This was the gate’s entrance.

It was not to be taken lightly. The gate, as large as a two-story house, was swallowing laborers whole.

Before entering, it was crucial to examine Han Dokyeom’s abilities. Chewing his bread, Dokyeom softly mouthed a command.

“Status Window.”

[Han Dokyeom]

Rank – E-rank.

Contractual Affinity – Star of Oriax, one of the 72 demons of ‘Lemegeton’.

Authority – None.

Traits –

Skills –

‘…What kind of crappy skills are these?’

Even after rubbing his eyes, the words preserved within the blue window before him remained unchanged.

‘He understood , as he had deliberately set that. But and … what were those?’

The sight of skills he couldn’t recall sent a wave of dizziness through him.

He had anticipated some changes, but this far exceeded his expectations. Rage at himself and at Oriax surged like wildfire, yet, as if by some stroke of luck amidst the misfortune, was surprisingly high-ranked.

A B-rank, no less. Good grief.

He had merely hoped not to gag while rummaging through monster carcasses, but at this level, forget empathy or whatever else — Nausea Immunity was the true MVP.

“Alright, next team, move in!”

Finally, the long line began to shrink.

With a sigh, Dokyeom adjusted his pickaxe and moved forward. As he followed the front row through the gate’s distorted blue light, his vision instantly plunged into a world of inky blackness.

The gloomy interior gradually revealed itself as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

It was a dark, damp cave.

The surroundings were impossibly vast and tall. The cave, seemingly spacious enough to house several apartment buildings, branched into ant-colony-like paths with every step, spreading like fine roots.

A chilling cold seeped from the cave, crawling over his skin.

Workers who had entered earlier had set up lamps here and there, maintaining a dim, twilight brightness within.

“Collection Team, let’s move this way first! Come over here!”

In the distance, a man who appeared to be a team leader gathered people from various directions.

Dokyeom glanced up at the dizzyingly high ceiling before carefully tucking his remaining three loaves of bread into his pocket and following the bustling crowd.

[Oriax, the demon of ‘Lemegeton’, asks if he’s truly going to do it.]

“If I don’t, will you pay for my food?”

[Oriax, the demon of ‘Lemegeton’, turns away and sits down with a bored expression.]

From this point on, it was time to wrestle with monster carcasses, a task he had never once performed in his life.

As he gripped the pickaxe slung over his shoulder with a crushing force, a faint, ingrained habit manifested at his fingertips. It must have been Han Dokyeom’s habit.

This was the fierce, unknown life of the Han Dokyeom who had not been chosen by the text.

Yet, if there was one thing he could convey, Dokyeom wanted to tell him this.

He hadn’t abandoned Han Dokyeom. That much, he could say with his hand over his heart.

He wished to let him know that there was a reason he had been given this life. And he hoped that he would understand.

****

[Oriax, the demon of ‘Lemegeton’, rants that his eyes are rotting from the gruesome sight!]

[Oriax, the demon of ‘Lemegeton’, flips over a table, demanding to stop now!]

Regardless of whether a demon was throwing a tantrum, Dokyeom continued to dig into the monster’s carcass with his pickaxe, even as he chewed bread.

The moment the pickaxe struck something hard, Dokyeom plunged his hand into the corpse and pulled out a magic stone.

Intestines stretched out, trailing along with the magic stone.

Workers observing nearby watched with open mouths, then let out exclamations of awe.

“No, you’re… you must have a strong stomach, huh?”

“Wow… he’s even eating bread while doing that.”

“Not particularly strong, but I’m using a skill right now. A Saint-tier skill.”

At Dokyeom’s words, murmurs of surprise and awe rippled through the laborers.

From envious gazes to those who shook their heads, thinking, ‘Even so, the bread…’, a myriad of sharp glances pierced Dokyeom.