Chapter 8: Find the Value of the Function (2)

Drurrk! Tak!  

As soon as the door closed, the vehicle started smoothly.  

“You know me?”  

“Is there anyone among Korean-speaking players who doesn’t? Well, of course, aside from us, no one would know your real name.”  

It was subtle intimidation.  

Junseok was ready to summon Nayeon if things went south.  

“How do you know about me?”  

“Let’s just say… we have special channels.”  

“A summon?”  

The driver and the woman in the passenger seat froze simultaneously.  

Got it right.  

It wasn’t hard to figure out.  

Junseok didn’t miss the slight twitch in the woman’s eyes as she removed her sunglasses, confirming his suspicion.  

There was no way summoning restrictions applied only to him.  

With hundreds of Magic Towers worldwide, each with different difficulties, rewards, and hidden reward conditions, it was reasonable to assume that at least a few hundred people had obtained a summon as a hidden reward from the first floor.  

“There must be someone with a summon specialized in support, prophecy, or reconnaissance abilities. And you’re not from the Korean government.”  

What the…?  

Their expressions screamed, How did he know?  

But it was an obvious deduction.  

Korea doesn’t have the capability to find me right now.  

If they did, there’d be no need for such a public spectacle of searching for him.  

It was practically a love letter begging him to show up.  

If that was the case, the only possibilities left were the five major guilds or a foreign entity.  

“Come on, it’s obvious. Why play games? You came knowing my info.”  

“As expected, you’re sharper than we thought, Junseok. Yes, you’re right.”  

“Don’t try to trick me. And don’t even think about taking the long way to Garak Market.”  

Screech.  

The steering wheel, which had been turning left, abruptly straightened out.  

They had planned to take a detour to buy time for the conversation, but they corrected course immediately.  

There was no need to earn his distrust from the start.  

Most artifacts and items couldn’t be used outside the Magic Tower.  

So, the only possibility is a summon.  

There wasn’t just one Magic Tower in the world.  

Hundreds of summoning rights had likely been distributed globally by now.  

It was only natural to assume there was something with prophetic or reconnaissance abilities among them. 

“We won’t deceive you. We’re from the U.S. Player Management Agency.”  

“From America.”  

“Yes. And… as you might expect, we’re not here to threaten or coerce you. We’ll offer you a fair price.”  

“What am I, some item to be bought?”  

The driver swallowed hard.  

In the rearview mirror, Junseok’s expression was calm.  

In a situation that would intimidate most, he showed no signs of being fazed.  

Instead, he exuded a relaxed confidence, as if he were looking down on the situation.  

Wasn’t he turning the tables, taking control of the conversation?  

They had recruited dozens of Korea’s top players to America before, but they had never encountered a case like Junseok.  

Is it because of the summon?  

That would make sense.  

The strength of a summon obtained from clearing the first floor’s hidden mission.  

It could probably crush an ordinary person like an ant.  

“Speaking of which, isn’t your summon with you?”  

The question was blatant in its attempt to fish for information.  

Junseok responded with ease.  

“Oh, it’s sitting on top of the car right now. Didn’t you notice?”  

“!”  

Their eyes widened in shock.  

But they felt no presence or saw anything.  

“Then your summon is…”  

“Exactly. It’s a stealth type. Oh, and it’s invisible, so you won’t see it.”  

An assassin type, huh? Is it okay to tell us that?  

Junseok shrugged nonchalantly.  

“But what I’m curious about is how you managed to set the record on the first floor on your own. Clearing the second floor in two seconds could be attributed to your summon’s power, but…”

“Look.”  

His tone was low, tinged with displeasure.  

Both of them swallowed hard again.  

A chilling silence followed from the brokers’ perspective.  

Junseok leaned back, crossing his legs as if deep in thought.  

Or rather, pretending to think.  

After a few seconds, he nodded slowly, meaningfully, before continuing.  

“No, let’s get to the point. You’re here to scout me to America, right?”  

“Correct.”  

“Then let’s hear your terms.” 

At his positive response, the woman’s face lit up.  

“It’s about how you achieved the first-floor clear record—”  

“Be honest.”  

As if he wasn’t even waiting for their response, Junseok cut in the moment she continued.  

“I don’t have any patriotism. When a Korean wins a medal at the Olympics, I don’t feel national pride or community spirit. I’m just happy for that person’s effort being recognized.”  

They were confused by the sudden tangent. 

“But, you know. If someone’s going to win a medal, it’d be nice if it was a Korean. Or at least someone of Korean descent, right?”  

“Right.”  

“But people like you… taking Korean athletes to foreign countries? That doesn’t sit well with me, does it?”  

Their expressions turned cold.  

Junseok smirked and looked out the window.  

“Just kidding. Why so tense? We’re all just trying to make a living. Who needs patriotism for that?”  

“So, our terms are…”  

Before they could even finish, Junseok cut them off again.  

“But if I board a plane to America with you, I’ll probably be banned from entering Korea forever, right?”  

They didn’t deny it.

They just wondered if the man they saw in the rearview mirror was really a first-day awakened player.  

Did the appraisal skill get it wrong?  

He was clearly an F-rank, level 5 Inventory Master with a typical F-rank awakening skill.  

Yet, he was deeper and more composed than any S-rank they had seen.  

Unless he sucked an entire stage into his bag, those first- and second-floor clear records were impossible.  

But they hadn’t figured out that secret, caught up in Junseok’s pace.  

Perhaps because he interrupted them twice when they tried to present their terms.  

Feeling impatient, the broker offered the best conditions America could provide.  

“They’re offering a penthouse in the U.S., full support for your activities as a player, a top-of-the-line sports car, language learning support, a personal interpreter, and a secretary—”  

Junseok let out a small laugh.  

Yet the broker continued listing conditions.  

“Additionally, your family will be relocated and their safety guaranteed. And for every floor you clear, there’ll be a bonus in the billions. The jackpot for a Korean lottery is, what, 2 billion won at most? Clear just four or five floors here, and you’ll—”  

The broker stopped mid-sentence.  

She noticed Junseok was casually looking out the window, ignoring her.  

“America. America’s great, isn’t it? The American Dream, right?”  

“But, well, I’ll think about it. Got a business card? Oh, and drop me off up ahead.”  

The woman handed him a business card as if she’d been waiting for the request.  

The spot Junseok asked to be dropped off at was an alley just before entering Garak Market.  

It felt like he was stepping out of a taxi.  

“By the way, my summon has sharp eyes and a good memory.”  

It was a warning to be careful about leaking his information.  

At the same time, Junseok remotely summoned an item from his inventory onto the roof of the vehicle.  

It was a lizardman thigh, stained with monster blood.  

As soon as the blood dripped, he remotely retrieved it back into his inventory.  

The roof of the vehicle was left drenched with bloodstains.  

Vroom…  

The vehicle, unaware of this, drove off immediately.  

The woman, putting her sunglasses back on, sighed and said, “He’s no ordinary player. His presence is…”  

At that moment, the vehicle screeched to a halt.  

Screeeech!  

“Argh, what the hell! What’s wrong?!” 

The driver gasped, shaking his head.  

“Ugh!”  

The woman’s face paled as well.  

They noticed red blood trickling down the windshield, as if it were a warning.  

“My summon has sharp eyes and a good memory.”  

The man hurriedly got out and checked the roof of the vehicle.  

But there was no one there—just the bloodstains.  

Gulp.  

It was as if Junseok’s vivid warning lingered in the air.  

***

Surprising.  

What?  

I thought you’d pack your bags and hop on a plane to America.  

Junseok gave a bitter smile at Yoo Junhyuk, the Sword God’s sharp critique.  

I had a feeling someone would give me a hard time if I did.  

Me, you mean?  

Well, sort of?  

I don’t care that much. 

Clearing America’s Magic Tower saves people, just like Korea’s.  

True enough.  

But if you, a Korean, have the time to save Americans, it’d be nice if you saved Koreans first.  

I’m surprised. I thought you’d say going to America wasn’t an option at all. 

If it were me, I would’ve. But your goal is to make it big on your own, isn’t it?  

Yeah. 

You’re giving up on America?  

Do you know how many rich people are in America?  

How would I know?  

And they say Korea’s the best place to live for rich people.

I’ve heard that.  

And for Koreans, living in Korea is the most comfortable.  

More than anything, there was something my father said.  

“Live with pride and without shame.”  

If he went to America, sure, there’d be money, but he was certain he wouldn’t sleep easy.  

It was the Magic Tower that had brought his family to ruin overnight.  

Though it was the aftershock of the Magic Tower’s appearance, and the collapse was prevented by… not some swordsmanship, but the Sword God.  

Anyway, that’s how it was. 

You made a good choice. 

Even when I was conquering Incheon, many colleagues quietly went to America. 

None of them met a good end.  

“There’s no paradise where you escape to.”

No matter how much paradise is promised, the pain of living there wouldn’t be trivial.  

Why should the two people who’d struggle in a place where they don’t even speak the language suffer? 

“I can live well enough here.”  

As if firming his resolve, Junseok confirmed no one was around. 

Then, he summoned the backpack stored in his inventory.  

Srrrk! Thud!

In an instant, a massive 1.5-meter-tall backpack appeared.  

It was large enough to fit two people if you stuffed them in.  

Junseok naturally slung the enormous bag over his shoulders.  

The heavy weight pressed down on him, but compared to what he’d carried before, it was light.  

The bag stretched from his head to the bottom of his thighs.  

Back in the day, he’d used his inventory ability to secretly sell materials in the black market. 

Though it was broad daylight, as he ventured deeper into the market, the human presence dwindled.  

He followed a narrow path between forklifts and massive trucks in a parking lot.  

The path led to a tight gap between buildings.  

At the end of that path, the space suddenly opened up, revealing a massive warehouse.  

A man blocking the entrance to the warehouse eyed Junseok’s backpack and stepped in his way.  

“New face, huh?”  

Junseok smirked openly at the comment.  

“You memorize the faces of everyone inside?”

The man glared down at Junseok with a menacing expression.  

But when Junseok didn’t flinch, he eventually stepped aside. 

Inside, under dim lighting, stalls and tents were set up here and there.  

On the second-floor railing of the warehouse, armed soldiers with rifles patrolled, keeping watch inside and out.  

The merchants inside were divided into partitions, like an indoor market in Dongdaemun.  

Junseok knew exactly who bought which materials and who paid the most.  

His massive backpack and the appearance of a new face drew attention.  

Sure enough, the merchants looked at him like they’d found prime prey, practically salivating.  

Two burly men blocked the path ahead and behind Junseok, grinning.  

“Drop the bag and leave quietly. Don’t make a scene.” 

But Junseok hadn’t anticipated one thing.  

After regressing, his old connections were gone.  

In the past, a word to nearby merchants would’ve made these thugs back off.  

But the merchants around him pretended not to see or hear what was happening right in front of them.  

Since he hadn’t built rapport with them yet, they were focused on their phones, ignoring him.  

“Heh heh… Drop the bag. Unless you want to leave a limb behind too, huh?”  

The moment a bald giant behind Junseok grabbed his shoulder with a grin, a woman seized the man’s wrist.  

Tch!  

“Stop.”  

Junseok was just as shocked as the others at the appearance of a blonde woman.  

After all, Nayeon had appeared without him summoning her.  

“Move again, and I’ll break your hand.”