Chapter 57: The Meaning of Ruthlessness

“What’s this?” I asked as Kang Yongseok produced a black card, its surface embroidered with HyunAn’s emblem in pure gold.

“This is HyunAn’s VVIP exclusive card,” he explained. “With this, any items you entrust to us will receive top priority, free appraisal, and consignment sales—all without any commission fees.”

Che Yerim, standing beside me, asked with a puzzled expression, “What’s this? I’ve never seen one before. Why haven’t I gotten one?”

“Ahem,” Kang Yongseok cleared his throat. “This is a very limited service we offer to a select few Hunters who have a close relationship with the Guild Leader.”

I gazed at the black card for a moment before accepting it with a smile. “Then I won’t refuse.”

Truthfully, I had no need to entrust item appraisals to HyunAn.

But with the Parsley Market now off-limits, I was wondering how to dispose of the items I routinely acquired from dungeons.

HyunAn, with their deep understanding of this industry, would surely handle it competently.

After all, their survival depended on it—they had no choice but to do a good job, whether they wanted to or not.

“We’ll do our absolute best, sir,” Kang Yongseok said, still visibly anxious. He clasped his hands together, hunched forward, and continued, “From now on, no matter what requests we receive, we’ll do everything in our power to prevent incidents like today’s from happening again. We’ll lower our appraisal fees and provide thorough after-sales service. So please, at least allow us to continue operating in this industry…”

Unlike his previous semi-formal tone, Vice Guild Leader Hyeon-an now spoke with utmost politeness, almost begging.

Good, this is more like it.

Of course, even as I said this, I had no intention of working as a freelance appraiser. If I fully utilized the Item Analyzer, I could effortlessly earn money, but that wasn’t my priority. What mattered to me was growth to increase my Status Window Synchronization Rate, not piles of cash.

I barely had enough time to rush around for immediate growth as it was. Who had time to sit around idly appraising items?

“If you insist so strongly…”

I replied to Kang Yongseok, who was bowing his head and pleading like a supplicant.

“I’ll keep an eye on things in the future, Vice Guild Leader.”

I delivered these words with a faint smile.

“How on earth did you manage that?”

The situation had just been resolved, and they were immediately summoned to the Precious Artifact Hall. Che Yerim exhaled as if releasing a long-held breath.

“I got lucky,” I replied.

“Lucky? Even a top-tier Appraiser with an Appraisal Skill beyond standard specifications couldn’t have achieved this. Yet you, Taejun, did it without batting an eye?”

Well, yes.

If I weren’t lucky enough to possess the only up-to-date Status Window in the world.

I grinned. “In any case, it’s a relief. I was a little worried Vice Guild Leader Hyeon-an might change his mind at the last minute.”

“You didn’t leave him any room to back out, Taejun. From Vice Guild Leader Kang Yongseok’s perspective, he suffered a complete defeat without even lifting a finger. What more could he possibly say? Especially after signing the Magic Contract.”

“Even so…”

”…So, you really won’t give me even a single hint?” Che Yerim gazed at me expectantly.

When I remained silent, she gave up pressing me and shook her head. “Honestly, Taejun, the more I get to know you, the more mysterious you seem.”

“I do tend to cultivate an air of mystery,” I replied.

“That certainly seems to be the case. Just look at the item you want right now.”

Yerim cheerfully accepted my playful response, but soon stopped walking. In a corner of the Artifact Chamber, she stared at the item preserved within a glass case and asked, “You really want this?”

It was the Dragon Spirit Iron Wire, crafted by Ma Daechun, the founder of the Soaring Dragon Divine Fist and the first Commander of the Hwarang Unit.

“Yes.”

“As you know, Taejun, this is just a display piece with no practical value as an item.”

“Its durability is completely depleted, so it’s essentially destroyed. I understand.”

”…I accepted your proposal, but now I’m hesitant. Is it really appropriate to offer you this as compensation?”

This conversation occurred shortly after I demonstrated my Appraisal Skill.

I had proposed to Che Yerim that I would appraise the Special Sealed Items currently being held hostage by the Hyunahn Guild in exchange for the Dragon Spirit Iron Wire displayed in the Precious Artifact Hall.

After a moment’s consideration, Che Yerim agreed to my proposal, provided the matter could be resolved without significant conflict with the Hyunahn Guild.

In the end, the matter was resolved flawlessly.

Now it was time to collect my reward.

I glanced at the knuckles stored in the display case and said, “It’s fine. In a way, this is something you couldn’t buy for a billion won.”

“Well, it’s not quite like that,” Yerim replied. “Honorary Team Leader Ma Daechun told us when he donated it, ‘If someone ever offers around ten billion won for it, sell it begrudgingly. Just give me ten percent.’”

“Ah…”

So that’s why Che Yerim accepted my proposal so readily.

I gave a bitter smile.

Truly Matthew’s father.

Father and son—both recklessly bold and straightforward, without a hint of hesitation.

“Honestly, that old man has no conscience,” Yerim said. “Who would pay ten billion won for a rusty piece of scrap metal you can’t even identify? One billion would be pushing it.”

It was true. Unless it was the Moonfall Sword, ten billion was absurd for a rusty piece of metal with a fancy name like the Dragon Spirit Iron Wire.

And unlike the Moon-Slaying Blade or the Moonfall Sword, the Dragon Spirit Iron Wire lacked a compelling backstory.

“Anyway, Taejun said he really wanted it.”

Che Yerim placed her hand on the glass case, and it melted away like ice, revealing the Dragon Spirit Iron Wire beneath.

She picked up the knuckles and handed them to me with a smile. “No changing your mind later, okay?”

“Right,” I replied, accepting the Dragon Spirit Iron Wire with a meaningful look. “You shouldn’t change your mind either, President.”

“Hahaha, is that even possible?” Che Yerim laughed. “If Team Leader Ma Daechun ever finds out, I’ll just give him a billion won and bat my eyelashes. What’s the big deal? Taejun already brought in more than that today.”

She shrugged, as if the very idea of such a worry was laughable.

“Besides, I doubt the Honorary Team Leader would even care. It’s not like Taejun’s going to take it on a dungeon raid or through a Gate.”

I responded with an ambiguous smile.

As I carefully stowed the Dragon Spirit Iron Wire in my backpack, Che Yerim casually inquired, “So, what are your plans now, Taejun? If you don’t have anything else scheduled, would you like to grab a coffee with me? I’d like to talk to you a bit longer.”

A scouting offer, I realized.

From the way Che Yerim’s eyes sparkled so openly, it was clear she wasn’t trying to hide her intentions.

Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I replied, “I’m sorry, but I’m busy today. I need to prepare for my Guild initiation.”

“Guild initiation?” Che Yerim’s sunglasses slid down her nose.

Unlike her usual composed demeanor, where she maintained a cool demeanor even while smiling, she looked genuinely flustered.

“Can I ask… no, I’ll just ask. Which one? Hwarang? Cheongyeon? Or… could it possibly be Hongik?”

As expected, she named the three Guilds I’d had contact with. And now, Hongik, the last of the Big Three, had come up.

I hesitated for a moment.

But since it was bound to come out eventually…

“Hwiryong.”

”…Hwiryong?” Che Yerim repeated blankly.

Her wide eyes and slightly tilted head made her look like a puppy with folded ears.

“You don’t mean that Hwiryong, the one founded by the Nine Springs Bone King, do you?”

The Nine Springs Bone King—Hwiryong’s first Guild Leader, an S-Rank Hunter who rose to prominence during the early days of the Great Change. He was a hero like no other, hailed as an unparalleled figure in history and the greatest Necromancer the world would ever know.

“Yes.”

“But… isn’t it impossible to join unless you possess Necromancy?”

“That’s right.”

”?”

Yerim stared at me as if she’d seen a ghost.

”…Taejun, you also have Necromancy? Well, honestly, at this point, I’d believe anything you told me about your abilities.”

Che Yerim crossed her arms, her expression a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

“Still, Hwiryong… If this were three years ago, it wouldn’t be so surprising, but now? Well, I’m not so sure. The Guild’s inherent potential is undeniable, though.”

Three years ago, when the Nine Springs Bone King was the Guild Leader, Hwiryong’s Power Ranking had been a much higher seventh place.

“Taejun, are you perhaps fond of phrases like ‘Rebuilding a Renowned Clan’? The type to root for Leeds United in the Premier League?”

“Not particularly. I don’t follow soccer at all, so your example doesn’t really resonate with me.”

“But if I ask why… you’ll probably brush it off with a laugh unless you have a really compelling answer.”

“We’ve only just met, and you already seem to know me so well.”

The co-CEO of Shinwa chuckled softly and nodded.

“There are people like you, Taejun. The kind whose true intentions remain utterly inscrutable—the type I least enjoy dealing with.”

“I seem to have inadvertently rubbed you the wrong way.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just meant you’re the kind of person I wouldn’t want as an enemy.”

She sighed softly.

But only for a moment.

Extending her hand to me, she said, “And in my experience, as long as you don’t make them an enemy, you never lose out. So, even though we won’t be working together anymore…”

Che Yerim winked at me from behind her sunglasses.

“Let’s get along well in the future, okay? You and me.”

Immediately after returning to my studio apartment from the Precious Artifact Hall, I placed the rusty knuckles on my desk and opened the Status Window.

Artifacts destroyed due to their Durability Value reaching zero cannot be restored with any technology currently available… at least, not by Earth’s standards.

I searched for “#Item #Restoration #Durability #Restorer.”

The moment I entered the keywords, a flood of trade posts appeared.

“There are so many Ability Users out there,” I muttered.

Across dimensions, countless artisans could restore items with depleted Durability. In fact, supply seemed to far exceed demand.

Browsing the trade posts revealed frequent squabbles and fierce price wars between artisans.

“Devil? That’s a bit harsh,” I muttered, shaking my head solemnly. “No, I have no intention of doing that.”

Well, if I had all the time in the world, haggling relentlessly with these countless artisans for the lowest prices might be amusing in its own way.

But right now, I needed to focus on preparing for tomorrow’s Necromancy Sparring match.

So, I decided to take a more gentlemanly approach this time.

I ignored Manager Mi’s self-indulgent tears and navigated to another section of Parsley Market.

This was the best way to find the lowest price.

The post on Parsley’s Scribbled Records had garnered 105 comments.

Stretching vigorously, I checked the notification window glowing in the morning sunlight, a smile playing on my lips.

One hundred and five comments in just over six hours—a far more explosive reaction than I’d anticipated.

While I tapped on the Status Window, Manager Mi’s listless morning greeting drifted from beside my pillow.

“I slept well. You look like you didn’t get much rest.”

“Seriously? How can you be pulling all-nighters two or three times a week?”

After that, all Manager Mi could manage was a terrifying “Kekekekekek” laugh.

That was all the confirmation I needed. The Status Window Management Company she worked for was undoubtedly a Black Corporation, one that didn’t care in the slightest about its employees’ welfare or human rights.

Just as I was feeling vindicated, Manager Mi, who had barely regained her composure, said, “Anyway, I’ll take a nap while you check the comments on Parsley’s Scribbled Records, Taejun-nim. I feel like I’m about to pass out.”

“I’m not checking the comments yet,” I replied. “I want to leave them for at least two more days.”

“Huh? Why?”

Because the longer the post sat untouched, the fiercer the bidding competition would become.

Even in the short time I’d been talking to Manager Mi, four more comments had already been added.

I decided to check the posts on Phil Damrok later.

Right now, I needed to focus on preparing for tomorrow’s Necromancy Sparring.

The chat window above my head murmured in a voice as if the world were crumbling.

“Hmm.”

I stared at Manager Mi’s desperate emoticon.

Then I replied simply, “No.”

To be fair, that’s just how company work goes. It’s inherently merciless.