The interior of the rift — what people called the ‘Hidden World’ — was a truly mysterious subspace.

It mirrored reality as it was the moment the rift opened, and monsters lived there indefinitely without any external energy supply. ‘Mystery’ felt like the right word.

In the twenty-eight years since Deep Impact, research into the Hidden World had never stopped. Yet humanity had uncovered frustratingly little.

Scraps of what they’d managed to piece together went something like this:

First, the Hidden World copied the looks of the rift location at the moment of its appearance. In other words, once a rift existed, even if the terrain above underwent a complete overhaul, the Hidden World didn’t reflect the changes.

Along the same lines, no matter how catastrophic the events inside the Hidden World, the outside — reality — remained entirely unaffected.

Second, any matter copied inside the Hidden World could not be taken out. In the early days of the cracks, people made a big fuss: ‘Rifts will be the key to solving Earth’s resource depletion!’

That turned out to be a pipe dream. Even if a rift opened above a diamond mine, it never meant the diamond reserves doubled. That just didn’t happen.

The only resources that could be extracted from a rift were the byproducts monsters spat out. The rest was all a mirage.

Lastly — if you didn’t cross the escape portal before the Hidden World fully collapsed, the person trapped inside would simply vanish.

Defeating the boss monster meant the Hidden World would collapse within one to two hours. As long as you crossed the escape portal in time, you were fine. The problem was when you didn’t.

Because the people trapped inside disappeared somewhere along with the rift. Back in the early days of Deep Impact, such accidents were alarmingly common.

Those who vanished were never found anywhere on Earth. Scientists once sent an exploration robot into a collapsing rift to hunt for clues.

The robot was supposed to transmit twelve photos per minute. But after the Hidden World fully collapsed, it sent just a single picture — and then the connection was lost.

That one photo showed nothing but shimmering ribbons of light in every color.

“Tch.”

Byeonggap clicked his tongue at the memory of that second fact.

What kind of factory this place had been was anyone’s guess. But useful junk lay scattered everywhere, still good for something.

What caught Go Byeonggap’s eye was a stack of plastic boxes and buckets piled up in one corner. Hauling those into Asvillam could come in handy in more ways than one.

Use them to scoop water, carry crystals around, or even sit on as makeshift stools.

On a whim, he tried moving a few into Asvillam, but the result was… well, predictable.

‘No dice.’

The moment any material from the hidden world crossed into Asvillam, it turned to smoke and scattered.

A pang of regret hit him, but he shook it off quickly.

As he passed the stack of boxes, Go Byeonggap stopped dead in his tracks.

He pressed his index finger to his lips and glanced back.

«Shh.»

Kiriyan nodded silently.

Go Byeonggap ducked behind the steel railing and peered down. A herd of Gabri was milling about on the first floor.

He counted their heads carefully.

One, two, three, raccoon…

‘Twenty-three.’

Finished counting, Go Byeonggap whispered to Kiriyan.

«See those horse bastards down there?»

«Yes. I see them.»

«We’re taking them out now. Can you handle it?»

«No problem.»

«Good. Get ready.»

Go Byeonggap rested his gun barrel on the railing and aimed at the Gabri. Kiriyan stood a few paces away, focusing power into his lightning rod.

Their eyes met.

—Ready?

—Yes!

The next moment, as if by unspoken agreement, they unleashed their assault on the floor below.

—Rat-a-tat-tat!

—Crackling sizzle!

“Heeeeeyyynngg!”

Caught off guard by the hail of bullets and lightning bolts, the Gabri went berserk. Any normal wild animal would have bolted tail-between-legs, but these were monsters. They twisted their eyes around, zeroing in on where the attack was coming from.

“Heeeyyynngg!”

It didn’t take long for Go Byeonggap’s position to be exposed. Luckily, he didn’t need to relocate. No matter how high the Gabri leaped, they couldn’t reach the third-floor railing.

If they’d been humanoid monsters, they’d have stormed up the stairs, but that was too tall an order for beast-brains.

The Gabri, losing all reason, jumped and thrashed wildly.

From Go Byeonggap’s perspective, they were just targets screaming to be put out of their misery.

He methodically thinned their numbers.

More monsters came running at the sound of gunfire and commotion. In total, Go Byeonggap turned thirty Gabri into pulp.

The gun and the lightning rod were scorching hot from the heat. Go Byeonggap took a breather and scanned for monster movement.

‘Looks like there’s nothing else nearby.’

No presence could be felt in the vicinity. Still, to be safe, he waited a good ten minutes before heading down.

The first floor was a mess of dead Gabri. Corpses never felt good to look at—didn’t matter how many years you’d been a hunter.

Still, he didn’t flail like he had back when he’d first become one. Go Byeonggap summoned a few goblins to use as laborers.

«Stay here and quietly collect the magic stones. I’m going to do a quick scout.»

«Understood.»

He slipped out of the factory building with careful steps. The grounds were enormous. There were at least three or four more abandoned buildings scattered around.

Out of habit, Byeonggap stuck a cigarette in his mouth.

‘Maybe twenty monsters left.’

He had plenty of ammo. Byeonggap wandered around for a bit before heading back to the factory. In the short time he’d been gone, the goblins had already finished extracting the magic stones.

«Gather up the meat chunks scattered on the floor and head back.»

«Understood.»

«Oh, and Gobungi—come here for a second.»

«Huh? Y-yes!»

Gobungi shuffled over, wiping his bloody hands on his clothes.

«How are the new ones settling in?»

«Settling? Uh… They seem. Fine. Everyone’s. A bit surprised.»

«Hmm. Is that so?»

Byeonggap grinned and slung an arm around the hob goblin’s shoulder.

«Gobungi, I’ve got a special assignment for you.»

«A-assignment?»

«Yeah. I’m naming you work foreman, effective today.»

«…Work foreman?»

«That’s right. Work foreman.»

Gobungi mouthed the word a few times, like it felt foreign.

«Don’t overthink it. When I’m away, just train the new ones and teach them what to do. You get what I’m saying?»

«Uh… Yes. I think. So.»

Byeonggap let out a low “Kuh…” and clapped his hands together softly.

«Anyway, you’re a sharp one, Gobungi. That’s why I’m giving you such a big role—because I trust you, you idiot. I’ve got high hopes for you.»

«I’ll. Work hard!»

«Yeah, yeah. Work hard. Once Asvillam gets rebuilt, I’ll make a spot for you.»

Gobungi’s eyes practically showered stars.

With a look that said he’d get it done no matter what, he turned and headed back to Asvillam.

Easy to push around, this one.

As he muttered that, Byeonggap suddenly felt eyes on him from behind and turned his head.

Kiriyan was staring at him with hurt eyes, then quickly looked away.

«Hey, hey. No need to feel left out. I’ve already thought up a position for you too.»

«R-really?»

«Of course, you idiot. One even more important than what I gave Gobungi. I just hadn’t said anything because the timing wasn’t right.»

At the words “more important,” Kiriyan lit up.

«What kind of assignment?»

«I’ll tell you later. No point in explaining now. So don’t go swaggering in front of the other goblins — wait quietly until I bring it up.»

«Understood!»

After a short rest, the two set out to hunt the remaining monsters.

For the record, the role Go Byeonggap intended to assign Kiriyan was ‘Generator.’

* * *

The D-rank monster: Horn Gabri.

It resembled a normal Gabri in build, but a long horn jutted from its forehead. Its skull had pierced through the skin to form a hard helmet-like casing — that too was a distinctive feature.

At a glance it evoked mythical unicorns, but with its four-split maw thrust forward in a charge, it was every inch a demon.

Byeonggap tossed his gun aside and drew his longsword. Ammunition was still plentiful. He’d simply felt like testing himself against the Horn Gabri in close quarters — a bit of reckless whimsy.

“Hiiiiiiiiing!”

“Hmph!”

Longsword clashed against horn, a contest of raw strength. The creature was certainly far stronger than a normal Gabri.

But if asked whether it was lethal? The answer was no.

“Haap!”

Byeonggap concentrated his power in an instant and flung the Horn Gabri back. As the beast staggered, he brought his sword down in a slash.

A long gash opened across the Horn Gabri’s neck and shoulder.

“Kkekikikikik!”

The Horn Gabri stumbled, spraying blood. Byeonggap didn’t finish it off immediately — he pulled back.

Regaining his stance, he taunted the creature by waving his blade side to side.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiing!!!”

Enraged, the Horn Gabri pawed the ground. It charged, horn first, its posture like a bull.

Byeonggap concentrated deeply, tracking its every movement. He stayed utterly still until the very moment before impact, then unleashed his blade.

—Shunk!

The Horn Gabri couldn’t even scream. Its head was gone. Blood gushed from the fallen body.

Combat over. Even the hidden world’s boss monster had been cleanly dealt with.

«As expected — amazing!»

«Enough. Don’t make a fuss over one kill.»

He said that, but a swell of pride stirred within him.

He and Kiriyan harvested magic stones from the dead monsters. There were only eight in total, so there was no need to call in workers.

He pocketed a bulging pouch of magic stones and exited the hidden world.

The subjugation was done — the time was just past noon.

“A little over three hours, huh.”

In the past, it would have easily taken twice as long.

No. In the real past, he’d have died the moment he faced the first Gabri pack.

Without further delay, he headed back to Seoul.

On the way, the Olympic Expressway was no longer cordoned off. The A-rank rift from this morning had apparently been cleared already.

Once he reached Seoul, the Association was just a short trip away.

Go Byeonggap liquidated every magic stone he’d collected that day.

The counter clerk, Kim Seulgi, recited the price in a friendly voice.

“Thirteen point six kilos of low-grade magic stones, plus one medium-grade piece. We can price that at 780,000 won.”

“Huh? That’s all?” he blurted out.

“Pardon?” She blinked.

The amount was smaller than he’d expected.

A standard D-rank rift run usually cleared at least 1.3 million won.

“Ah! Ah-ah…” Comprehension dawned across his face.

Then it clicked.

‘It’s the goblins.’

He hadn’t harvested magic stones from a full fifty-six of them — of course the payout had taken a hit.

The taste in his mouth was bitter, but even so, this beat most F-rank rifts.

“Sorry. My mistake.”

“Aha-ha… Should I deposit it into your linked account?” she asked.

“No. Cash, please.”

“Understood. Please wait a moment.”

After settling the payment, he headed for a hardware store that also sold farm tools.

More laborers meant more equipment to supply.

‘Let’s see… Fifty-six new hands came in, so I need at least fifty more, right? Damn. Fifty picks at 35,000 each is 1.75 million. What’s so expensive about them?’

Go Byeonggap hesitated in front of the ATM. Spending 1.75 million on pickaxes would put him in the red.

Plus, there was today’s ammo cost, fuel cost, and so on…

‘Ah, screw it! It’s necessary anyway — what am I gonna do?’

He shook off the hesitation.

Right. It was a necessary purchase after all.

At least a lump sum had come in recently. After withdrawing 1 million won, Go Byeonggap walked into the farm-tool shop.

“Welcome… Ah, boss-nim!” the shopkeeper greeted.

The owner recognized him at a glance — this was his third visit.

The first time, this young man had bought ten pickaxes; the second, twenty more.

‘He’s back! How many today?’ The shopkeeper’s lips twitched upward on their own.

The shopkeeper’s lips curled up involuntarily.

“Young boss-nim, here again. Looking for more pickaxes today?” he asked.

“Three.”

Go Byeonggap announced it like a proclamation the moment he laid eyes on the owner.

“Huh?” The owner’s brow furrowed.

“Fifty pickaxes. Cash. How about 30,000 won each?” he pressed.

‘Coming in hot!’ The shopkeeper fought to keep his composure.

The shopkeeper fought to keep his composure, arming himself with a professional smile.

“Ah, aigoo, young boss-nim. Fifty more today? It’s hot — let me at least get you some water first…”

“Fifty pickaxes. Cash. 1.5 million won.”

Go Byeonggap stood firm.

Reading the situation, the shopkeeper frantically tapped his calculator.

“How about… 32,000 each — 1.6 million won? I’m taking a loss here too, you know. Hahaha…”

“I’ll check other places and come back—”

“Okay! One point five!” the shopkeeper yelled, breathless.

The shopkeeper wheezed as he shouted.

He couldn’t afford to lose a customer over a mere hundred thousand won. If this guy bought fifty today, who was to say he wouldn’t come back for a hundred next time?

In his experience, good business meant keeping one eye on the long game.

“1.5 million won cash, and fifty pickaxes. Deal!” The shopkeeper gasped, out of breath.

“Fine.”

Go Byeonggap paid the one million five hundred thousand won and bought the fifty pickaxes. Since the quantity was substantial, the shopkeeper agreed to load them onto a truck and deliver them right to his doorstep. Byeonggap saw no reason to refuse.

“Then, I’ll see you later.”

“Yes, yes—take care now.”

Stepping out of the hardware store, Byeonggap thought to himself.

‘I ought to get these direct from a factory or something. Damn expensive.’