Though smaller in scale than Kim Seo-jun’s spatial pouch, this subspace artifact was far more convenient for practical use.
Kim Seo-jun couldn’t help but wonder why such incredible artifacts were tossed carelessly into what looked like shabby wooden boxes.
‘I have no idea what’s what anymore. For now, let’s just take whatever we can.’
Now that he had the Spatial Glove, he could pack all the survival gear he wanted.
The third thing Kim Seo-jun pulled out from the wooden box was a tiny spacesuit, one that only a newborn might fit into.
[133/Special]
‘There are 133 of these things?’
Examining the miniature baby spacesuit, Kim Seo-jun couldn’t begin to guess what it was for.
His eyes widened, as big as lanterns.
[R-MPSP Suit]
-A reflection suit that can deflect MPSP waves.
-Can freely expand or shrink to match the wearer’s body structure.
-When equipped, increases base defense by 5%.
-Mana consumption: 1 per minute
‘So this was it!’
The mystery that had long puzzled Kim Seo-jun was finally solved.
During every training session, the instructors had restricted the cadets’ mana by using MPSP, but their own mana remained unaffected, even though they were exposed to the same waves.
Kim Seo-jun had figured out that the transparent membrane on the instructors’ bodies deflected the MPSP, but until now, he had never learned how they did it.
Turns out, this tiny baby spacesuit was the artifact capable of exactly that.
‘They’re wearing this? All the instructors?’
Kim Seo-jun glanced at the baby-sized suit, thin and highly elastic, then looked toward the instructors.
Just picturing the instructors all wearing this snug baby spacesuit soured his mood.
Sure, the suit could resize to fit the wearer’s body structure, but that didn’t mean it was loose.
No matter how he spun it, there was no difference between this and the skin-tight hero suits in movies.
Imagining burly, hairy men in such tight, flimsy suits nearly made his breakfast come back up.
Kim Seo-jun almost tossed it aside but just barely held himself back.
Still, it was an artifact, and the R-MPSP Suit couldn’t possibly be useless.
‘For now… I’ll take it. Sigh…’
With a sigh, Kim Seo-jun decided to pack even the baby-sized spacesuit.
Had he spent too much time hesitating?
While he deliberated, the rest of the artifacts—whose mana value and properties he could see with his Insight—had been claimed by other cadets.
A palm-sized round shield with 84 mana and a Normal property went to Im Hee-joo; a long staff with 93 mana and an Elite property landed in Shin Tae-yang’s hands.
Lastly, a small whistle with 47 mana and a Normal property was picked up by Jo Tae-seok.
As far as Kim Seo-jun could tell, they weren’t able to read the mana values like he could.
It was pure chance.
While rummaging around, they must have examined the objects and realized they were artifacts.
‘It’s a shame, but there’s nothing I can do.’
Though he had managed to claim three of the six artifacts, Kim Seo-jun regretted missing out on the rest.
If given the chance, he’d have to stop hesitating and take everything.
That was his resolution.
Still, Kim Seo-jun wasn’t the type to dwell endlessly on what he’d lost.
Shaking off any lingering attachment, he slipped on the spatial pouch and began gathering the supplies he needed.
With everyone watching, he couldn’t activate the magic circle of the Spatial Glove just yet.
Kim Seo-jun understood well that making others’ information his own while hiding his own knowledge was the key to survival.
Each cadet received one backpack.
Into the ordinary, functionless bag, he packed a hefty amount of food and cooking utensils, tossed in a few daggers, a rifle, and a pile of ammunition in the remaining space.
That alone probably weighed over 50 kilograms, but Kim Seo-jun didn’t stop there; he added explosives, a tent, a sleeping bag, four walkie-talkies, and finally wedged a long steel bar to the side of his pack. With that, his preparations were complete.
At that moment, Instructor Park Moon-ho’s heavy voice echoed out.
“Five minutes remaining.”
He stood with his hands behind his back next to the lift beneath the rift.
By chance, his gaze met Kim Seo-jun’s, but he showed no particular expression.
“Are you not going to tell us what all this equipment is for?”
It was Min So-ra, fiddling with the various pieces of gear.
She wasn’t foolish—she figured some of these items might be artifacts and was pushing mana into each device to check their information.
But luck was not on her side.
She tried to grab whatever she could, but it wasn’t easy.
There were so many different survival supplies, some huge, that she didn’t know where to start.
“Check for yourselves. We’re instructors, not babysitters to pack your survival gear for you.”
At Park Moon-ho’s cold reply, Min So-ra pouted.
Looking around, she saw some cadets had already packed their olive-drab bags, while others frowned as they fiddled with odd equipment.
She kept a close eye on three people: Kim Seo-jun, Yang Hwi, and Shin Tae-yang.
Judging by the evaluation scores so far, Kim Seo-jun was overwhelmingly ahead, but Yang Hwi and Shin Tae-yang weren’t far behind.
The other cadets had so much faith in them that they said following their example would get you halfway there.
But the equipment the three packed was all over the place.
Yang Hwi focused on true survival gear—food, shelter, and the like—while Shin Tae-yang took mainly scanning and combat equipment.
But since they could only carry so much, each managed to fill just one blue bag.
The weight came to about 20 kilograms.
Even for Awakened Hunters, lugging anything heavier for three days straight would be impossible.
But Kim Seo-jun was different.
Not only did he stuff his bag full, he strapped items to the top and sides as well.
It was a staggering amount—enough to make anyone wonder if he could even walk.
‘He’ll have to burn mana just to carry all that.’
Min So-ra decided she couldn’t mimic Kim Seo-jun and opted for a half-and-half approach: half survival, half combat gear.
It was an awkward compromise, but since she followed Yang Hwi and Shin Tae-yang’s example, it wasn’t a bad choice.
She wasn’t the only one.
Other cadets followed suit, basing their choices on Yang Hwi and Shin Tae-yang.
Some went for survival gear, others for combat.
Only Irina and Im Hee-joo matched Kim Seo-jun in pushing their limits.
Once the ten minutes were up, the cadets each slung a hefty bag and lined up before Park Moon-ho.
Compared to most, the three with overloaded bags looked like they could barely stand.
Park Moon-ho glanced over them, then smirked.
“A Jaeger is responsible for the consequences of his choices. Think of the weight you carry as the weight of your own responsibility.”
“Yes, sir!”
“From this moment, the equipment you packed is yours. Even after the training ends, you don’t have to return it, so use it as you wish.”
Most of the cadets managed a wry smile.
Most of the survival gear was old and worn; the food would be used up, and the daily necessities weren’t worth taking home.
But the four who had found artifacts among the battered equipment felt differently.
Who wouldn’t be pleased to become the owner of a fine artifact for free?
“Seeing those pleased faces makes me happy as well. Now, we’ll enter the rift immediately.”
Park Moon-ho let his gaze linger on Kim Seo-jun and the others, then stepped onto the platform beside the lift.
Five instructors carrying their own equipment joined him.
The instructors would enter the rift, but not travel with the cadets—they’d remain near the entrance.
So they, too, needed survival supplies for three days.
Once the cadets were on the panel, it rose like an elevator.
The platform stopped precisely at the height of the rift.
A jagged tear in space.
Colors shimmered around the torn space, dazzling the eyes.
Standing at the rift’s edge, Park Moon-ho swept his gaze over the cadets, then slowly stepped inside.
Kim Seo-jun took a moment to admire the scenery beyond the rift.
The training rifts he’d entered before were swamps, snowy fields, or vast plains—but this time, it was a jungle, dense with towering trees that blocked out the sky.
As the cadets marveled at the grandeur of the forest, Park Moon-ho and the instructors moved swiftly.
They drove a position marker into the ground at once, then set up a staging platform beneath the rift five meters overhead.
Next, they put up tents and surrounded them with spiked electric wire to establish a camp.
“This will be your base camp. My team and I will wait here for your safe return. Anyone who comes back before finishing gets ten points off.”
Spurred by Park Moon-ho’s warning, the cadets steeled themselves and began investigating which direction to head in.
Then Park Moon-ho added a final note.
“One more warning: In the boss room, retreat as soon as phase two starts, no matter what. Never make the dumb mistake of trying to finish the raid just because it looks doable. Understand?”
“Yes, sir!”
Though the cadets answered vigorously, Park Moon-ho’s expression remained stern.
“In any case, I wish you all a safe return.”
With that, Park Moon-ho lost interest in the cadets.
A moment later, the first to act was Choi Chul-min.
Using his gift, ‘Space Jump’, he leapt twenty meters into the air at once.
After quickly checking the area, he landed safely and reported,
“Looks like we’re halfway up a pretty tall mountain. That way leads to the summit, and the other way goes down.”
Yang Hwi chimed in,
“If we have two options, we should split into two teams.”
“Split up?”
“Top and bottom. There’s not enough time for everyone to check both directions together.”
“That’s true, but…”
Choi Chul-min was concerned that splitting ten people into two groups of five might make completing the objective difficult.
They needed to hunt monsters and collect magic stones, and find the boss room—all within two days.
Moving together might be more efficient.
“No matter what you decide, I’m heading up,” Yang Hwi declared, ready to go.
Min So-ra, Park Hae-sung, and Jo Tae-seok moved to follow him.
“Yang Hwi! Before you go, we need a way to keep in touch—”
Whoosh
Yang Hwi tossed Choi Chul-min a walkie-talkie.
“These are hunter-grade radios. They’ll work fine, even in this forest.”
“You even thought to pack these?”
“It’d be idiotic to forget radios on a survival exercise.”
With Yang Hwi’s blunt words, Choi Chul-min was branded an idiot.
But he didn’t get angry. In fact, he laughed and clapped Yang Hwi on the shoulder.
“That’s Yang Hwi for you. Always so prepared. Thanks to you, searching this place will be a lot easier.”
Choi Chul-min, being the oldest cadet at twenty-four, rarely got upset with his juniors.
It was both his strength and his greatest weakness.
“What are you trying to say?”
“For now, how about setting up a base camp here, too? You brought three radios, right? We could split into three teams and search the area. Once we find where the monsters are most concentrated, we can move camp closer to the boss room and save a lot of time.”
“Hmmm…”
Choi Chul-min’s proposal was standard rift-raiding procedure.
Unless you already knew your destination, it was safest to search first, then move camp.
At that moment, Kim Seo-jun, who had been standing quietly under his heavy pack, spoke up.
“Let’s all head up together.”
His abrupt suggestion made everyone pause in confusion.
Kim Seo-jun reached out his hand.
On his palm sat a round compass.
But it was no ordinary compass.
Creature Detector (CDT—Creature Detector).
A special device that pinpointed the densest gathering of living creatures within a ten-kilometer radius.
It had been developed long ago at the ‘Mana Research Institute’, but with billions living on Earth, there had never been much use for it, so it had mostly fallen out of circulation.
In the rift worlds, however, it was still valuable, and quite a few hunters still used it.
Kim Seo-jun had found the old CDT while gathering equipment and brought it along.
All the cadets recognized what it was.
With this, they could quickly locate monster hordes.
There was no longer any need to waste time setting up camp and searching.
The CDT’s red arrow pointed toward the summit—exactly the direction Yang Hwi had intended to go.
“With this, there’s no need to hesitate. Let’s move.”
No one objected to Choi Chul-min’s suggestion this time.
Kim Seo-jun handed the CDT to Choi Chul-min, who was likely to act as leader anyway.
The CDT wasn’t an artifact, nor was it rare or precious.
Choi Chul-min thanked him, but Kim Seo-jun just smiled.
He hadn’t given it to him out of generosity, but simply wanted to complete their objective as quickly as possible.
As the cadets disappeared into the jungle toward their goal, Park Moon-ho instructed the other instructors,
“Deploy the drones.”
Bzzzzzzzz
Three drones rose into the sky with a faint whir.