“Equipment scams” refer to malicious schemes where defective gear is sold at exorbitant prices to newly awakened hunters brimming with dreams.
Ask any hunter about their happiest moment, and they’ll invariably mention the instant they awakened as a hunter and held their freshly issued hunter license from the Hunter Association.
In that moment, everyone is filled with grand aspirations—becoming a top-ranked hunter representing the nation, amassing immense wealth, or humbling those who once looked down on them.
It’s precisely this moment of hope and urgent need that certain predators exploit: hunter equipment dealers.
To operate as a hunter, one can’t enter dungeons empty-handed. Proper gear is essential. These dealers approach starry-eyed rookie hunters, enticing them with sweet promises of buying high-quality equipment at “great deals.”
Hunter gear varies wildly in price depending on its grade, but even low-tier hunters need gear with decent performance, costing hundreds of millions or even billions of won.
For newly awakened rookies, such sums are daunting and burdensome. So, the promise of buying gear at a “good deal” sounds like an oasis in a desert.
And it’s true—they do buy equipment at a “good deal.” The problem lies with the gear itself: defective, substandard products.
The scams operate in two main ways.
The first involves selling subtly damaged weapons—gear with hairline cracks invisible to the naked eye or critical durability flaws hidden within.
The second is akin to gilding: weapons that look impressive on the outside but are shoddily made. A hunter weapon’s core lies in its ability to channel mana, determined by the quantity and quality of dungeon metal it contains. Scammers craft weapons that appear to have standard dungeon metal on the surface, but the core is filled with cheap metal with little to no mana conductivity.
Using such defective gear in a dungeon inevitably leads to problems. When subjected to powerful forces, like a golem’s strike, the weapons crack or break entirely.
Hunters watching their gear shatter before their eyes are left in despair. Not only is their weapon for the next hunt gone, but the money borrowed to buy it becomes an insurmountable debt.
In this moment of desperation, the equipment scammers whisper their devilish pitch again: “Struggling with money because your gear broke? We know a great place we work with. Low interest, and they’ll help you put out the fire right away.”
The dealers approach with feigned kindness, posing as benevolent helpers or philanthropists.
Desperate rookie hunters, grasping at straws, turn to the loan sharks these dealers introduce. At first, the lenders are overly friendly, eagerly providing the needed funds. The hunters use this money to buy new gear from the same dealers—only to receive another defective product.
By the time they realize it, their judgment clouded by mounting debt and despair, they’ve been duped again.
Before they know it, they’re buried under a mountain of debt, facing the bitter reality of their situation and the painful sting of being deceived.
Sang-woong had thought Gu Yoo-joon’s struggles were solely due to Eun-woo’s medical bills. He hadn’t imagined Yoo-joon was also a victim of such a vicious scam.
“Ugh! Boss, your face is too scary!” Yoo-joon exclaimed.
As Sang-woong listened, he hadn’t realized his face had twisted with rage. This wasn’t just someone else’s story—it was his own. In his past life, Sang-woong had fallen for the same scam, drowning in debt and enduring unimaginable hardship to repay it.
The injustice and anger from that time still made his blood boil. People would pretend to sympathize to his face but mock him behind his back, saying, “How do you get scammed not once, but twice?” Even now, the memory was enough to make him bolt upright in the middle of the night.
“Haha… guess I got too caught up in the story. Sorry,” Sang-woong said, quickly softening his expression and scratching his head awkwardly.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry for causing trouble with my issues. I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again,” Yoo-joon said, bowing again before leaving the restaurant.
A heavy silence settled over the restaurant after he left.
Sang-woong berated himself for forgetting this. Hearing Yoo-joon’s story, he realized that around this time, the scammers who’d targeted him in his past life were likely still active.
Maybe… the heavens gave me this chance. To prevent others from suffering the same injustice I did. Maybe that’s why I was sent back. To heal my own wounds, too.
The next day, Sang-woong closed the restaurant after lunch service. He pulled out the business card he’d received yesterday.
They dare threaten Eun-woo, who’s just overcome his illness and reclaimed a normal life? This is unforgivable.
Fury surged within him at the thought of these people targeting Eun-woo, whom he’d helped regain health and a normal life. As a landlord, protecting his tenants was his duty.
He traced the words “Taebum Financial” on the card with his finger and dialed the number.
After a few rings, a smug male voice came through. “Hello?”
Sang-woong got straight to the point. “I’m calling about Gu Yoo-joon.”
The man’s voice turned wary at Sang-woong’s irritated tone and direct approach. “About Yoo-joon? Who are you?”
“That’s irrelevant. Don’t you just care about getting your money?” Sang-woong’s voice was cold and steady.
At the mention of money, the man’s tone shifted instantly, dripping with greed. “Money? You’re paying off his debt?”
“I don’t like repeating myself. Just give me your office address,” Sang-woong said curtly, as if the man wasn’t worth further conversation.
Intimidated by Sang-woong’s resolve, the man gave the address without further questions.
Hanging up, Sang-woong sighed. These guys always set up shop in places like this.
He headed to the address, a rundown commercial building on the city’s outskirts. Few businesses operated there, and the upper floors seemed mostly empty.
As expected, the third-floor hallway where the office was located was dim. Peeling wallpaper and flickering, faded lights barely pushed back the gloom. The air reeked of dust and mold.
Sang-woong didn’t knock. He pushed open the office door.
Creak!
The rusty iron door groaned loudly. The harsh fluorescent light inside contrasted sharply with the hallway’s darkness.
The office was shabbier than expected. Dusty old desks and chairs were scattered about, and a bookshelf on one wall was crammed with dusty binders labeled for debt collection. The air was thick with stale cigarette smoke.
A burly man, Kim Geun-cheol, sat at a desk. He glared at Sang-woong with menacing eyes, startled by the sudden intrusion. Beside him, a sharp-looking man, Seo Soo-hyuk—the one who’d confronted Eun-woo—exhaled a long puff of cigarette smoke.
“Who the hell are you?” Kim Geun-cheol barked, his brow furrowed.
Before Sang-woong could respond, Seo Soo-hyuk spoke up, recognizing him. “Boss, it’s him—the landlord from Yoo-joon’s place. He called about paying off the debt.”
“Oh, a client?” Kim Geun-cheol’s hostile expression melted into a pastel-toned smile, his eyes crinkling with feigned warmth. His glee at the prospect of collecting money was palpable.
“Have a seat,” he said, standing and offering Sang-woong a rickety chair. He glanced at Soo-hyuk. “We’ve got a guest. Get some hot coffee. We need to treat our valuable client well.”
His last words, almost a whisper, carried clear intent: Let’s milk this opportunity.
“Yes, boss,” Soo-hyuk said, stubbing out his cigarette and heading to the coffee pot.
Kim Geun-cheol spread out Gu Yoo-joon’s debt documents. “You know how much Yoo-joon owes us, right?” he asked in a falsely warm tone.
Sang-woong’s voice was icy. “No. And why should I?”
“What?” Kim Geun-cheol’s fake smile vanished, replaced by raw anger and disbelief.
He shot up from his seat. That single sentence made it clear Sang-woong wasn’t there to pay.
“What’s your deal, coming here?” Kim Geun-cheol roared.
“Soo-hyuk, call the guys!”
He contacted his nearby lackeys. This wasn’t the first time someone had barged in, fueled by righteous indignation, thinking they could fix things. Each time, Kim Geun-cheol crushed them so thoroughly they’d never dare return.
It ensured debtors stayed scared and scrambled to find money.
Sang-woong didn’t move. His gaze was calm, but beneath it lay the honed instincts of a veteran hunter, forged through countless battles and brushes with death, mixed with deep contempt for these parasitic scum who preyed on vulnerable rookie hunters.
They were vermin that needed to be eradicated.
Crash!
The door burst open, and five burly, menacing men poured into the office.