Chapter 20 – Solo Raid (１)

Right now, Gijun had just pushed himself up from bed.

The time was 7 a.m.

His body had changed a lot over this time.

It was thanks to his rising Stats — the real-world body kept improving along with them.

‘Who’d have thought I’d end up with a body like this?’

The reflection in the mirror showed muscle dense enough to rival any serious athlete.

But better than that was the change in his magic.

He still only had one Circle, but the mana inside it was swelling faster and faster.

He couldn’t explain how it was happening, but the reality was undeniable.

‘And today…’

Gijun planned to try something outside the game.

‘Still no sign of Libre.’

He’d wondered if the Pet would manifest in the real world — but no.

Libre was nowhere to be seen.

That raised a problem.

Was Dual Casting actually possible out here?

‘Only one way to find out.’

He had no proof, but he could feel it.

That he could pull off Dual Casting.

‘If it works, I’ll need to drill it properly.’

Dual Casting was notoriously tricky to handle.

Even in the game, he’d felt it — casting two spells at once and using them to attack an enemy was no simple feat.

At the same time, Gijun opened his smartphone.

‘There.’

He checked the message glowing on his screen.

It was an informational text about tomorrow’s raid.

‘It was real.’

The raid location was exactly what he’d expected.

A 2nd-level solo dungeon.

Which clearly meant they intended to test him.

Solo dungeons weren’t exactly abundant.

So the number of people assigned to solo raids was naturally limited.

For Hwarang to assign a 2nd-level solo dungeon specifically to Gijun — that carried a hell of a lot of meaning.

“Even so…”

“The Guild Master has decided to observe.”

The Guild Master of Hwarang would be watching.

Woo Jimin, the Guild Master of Hwarang.

She was an Archer.

One of the finest Archers in the world.

The woman regarded as the world’s strongest with a bow — and she herself was coming to observe his Level 2 Raid.

“It makes sense, though.”

It was customary for the Guild Master to attend evaluations of each cohort’s ace potentials.

The catch was that Gijun wasn’t yet an official member of Hwarang.

Still, that fact alone might be proof of just how high their expectations were for him.

Or perhaps it was a silent pressure.

Pressure to join the guild.

“It makes sense, though.”

Of course Hwarang would assume he was desperate to join them.

That was the logical conclusion.

After all, they were Hwarang.

But Gijun saw things differently.

If he pulled off something extraordinary in this solo Raid, the choice wouldn’t be theirs — it would be his.

“I can make that happen.”

He was confident.

As long as he could master Dual Casting completely.

Tomorrow, Hwarang would be turned upside down.

Gijun rose to his feet.

His destination was the training facility for Superhumans.

*

“Will you be paying for a private room?”

“Yes.”

Gijun arrived at the Superhuman training center near his home.

Facilities like this were something only the major guilds could afford to maintain.

Because of that, Superhumans from smaller guilds usually trained at private centers like this one.

Of course, a private room came with a hefty price tag.

“That’ll be 200,000 won per hour. Payment is 200,000 won upfront. Additional time will be billed afterward.”

It was an outrageous price.

But Gijun could afford it now.

He still had tens of millions of won sitting in his account.

Money he’d earned from the last Raid.

On top of that, he’d been steadily selling off items he’d acquired from the game.

That alone had netted him around three million won already.

“I don’t have to worry about money anymore.”

He was completely free from financial concerns now.

So shelling out 200,000 won an hour didn’t bother him.

What was money compared to growth?

Of course, not everyone could afford to spend like this.

Most Superhumans trained in cheaper rooms — from three-person to as many as ten-person shared spaces.

But Gijun had to do this alone.

“Because I’m practicing Dual Casting.”

Revealing that he could use Dual Casting — that was a heavy burden, even for him.

To verify it for himself, he had to come to a training center alone.

“Your payment has been processed. You can enter Room 7.”

The desk clerk spoke, and Gijun took the card she held out before walking off.

Pushing aside his nervousness, Gijun held the card up to the door.

Click!

The training room door swung open.

The room inside was spacious.

It more than earned its 200,000 won per hour price tag.

The space was wide enough to practice any magic or swordsmanship freely.

And up ahead, there were targets.

About ten of them lined up.

Beyond that, the training ground even had a device controlling the targets’ movement and speed.

‘Alright. Let’s do this.’

Gijun took a slow, deliberate breath, letting his Mana stir gently.

The real challenge of dual casting lay in mana entanglement.

Cast two spells at once, and the first spell’s Mana would knot with the second’s, aborting the entire weave.

That made casting speed everything.

You had to finish one cast as fast as possible, then start the next before the first completely resolved.

He incanted a Fireball.

Whoosh!

A single orb of fire kindled above his palm.

In that instant, Gijun felt it — a raw, instinctive knowing.

He could cast another Fireball.

It was a sensation beyond words, entirely intuitive.

He simply knew, as if the knowledge was hardwired into his marrow.

It wasn’t just a feeling.

Because a moment later, a second Fireball shimmered into existence.

Fwoosh!

‘…!’

It worked.

Right as the first Fireball completed, a second had manifested itself.

‘It actually worked.’

Just as he’d sensed a moment ago.

That gut feeling — that dual casting was possible — had become reality.

Libre’s presence was still invisible, but her gift was very much real, rewriting the rules of his own magic.

‘This is insane.’

That something like this was truly possible.

Gijun stared at the twin spheres, blinking in disbelief, and looked them over several times.

Then, with a thought, he dispersed the Mana.

Both Fireballs hovering over his hand vanished.

‘Let’s try again.’

The first double-cast hadn’t been perfect.

After all, he’d still finished one before starting the other.

This time, he aimed for sheer simultaneity.

Casting one Fireball before the first had fully materialized, weaving them together.

‘I need to be certain.’

To confirm whether mana entanglement truly wouldn’t trigger.

Gijun moved his Mana, shaping one Fireball.

The energy rippled over his hand as it bonded with the Element.

The very same instant… he gathered Mana in his other hand, combining it with the Element as well.

Whoosh! Fwooosh!

‘…!!’

It worked.

Two Fireballs had materialized at perfectly the same moment.

No mana entanglement whatsoever.

Gijun hadn’t exerted any special effort.

It had felt utterly natural.

As if it was always meant to be, both Fireballs were cast flawlessly.

‘Hahaha…’

Gijun let out a hollow laugh.

‘I used to train like a madman, trying to pull this off.’

It was the literal truth.

In his past life, he’d practiced dual casting thousands upon thousands of times.

All to break through the ceiling of being a 1st-Circle mage.

He’d stayed up all night watching White Wood’s interviews.

Hunting for a clue.

But he’d failed.

No matter how hard he tried, it had never worked.

Back then, White Wood had said…

“I can’t explain it in words. But one thing is certain: this is something only I, the chosen one, can do. I feel it instinctively—that I can do it without any resistance.”

Back then, reading that interview had made me angry and jealous.

But now, I think I understand.

The reason he spoke like that.

It truly was a sensation beyond words.

A phenomenon no theoretical explanation could touch.

I simply felt it, and acted on that feeling.

‘Thrilling.’

It really was.

A sensation like every cell in my body was resonating.

From the tips of my hair to the soles of my feet, every cell was churning violently.

‘Let’s do it.’

Now it was time to start the real practice.

‘Go.’

Shouting it inwardly, Jun hurled two Fireballs at the target.

BOOM! CRASH!

Both Fireballs slammed into the target.

A hit was a hit.

But Jun couldn’t be satisfied.

‘Not enough.’

[85] [90]

Not dead center.

Each was slightly off from the middle.

And this was against a stationary target.

At this rate, it would be nowhere near enough in a real fight.

‘Precise. As precise as I can make it. And fluid.’

Just hitting wasn’t enough.

Beyond that, I needed the control to maneuver both Fireballs freely, to land them exactly where I wanted, against any target, in any situation.

‘Even if I have to stay up all night…’

I decided not to think about the price—200,000 won an hour.

Tonight, even if it took until dawn, I would master controlling both Fireballs perfectly.

*

WHOOOOSH!

The target whipped into motion.

Jun had set it to maximum speed.

A target moving so fast it was hard to even track with the eyes.

But Jun didn’t lose sight of it.

‘Now!’

Watching that target, Jun launched the Fireballs.

FWOOSH!

The Fireballs arced across the air.

Even as the target kept darting, Jun perfectly controlled both Fireballs.

Of course, the target kept moving the whole time.

ZING! ZING!

At an incredible speed.

But all its trajectories were within Jun’s predicted range.

He had predicted both its speed and direction, and the Fireballs flew exactly where he intended.

And so, finally,

BOOM! CRASH!

The Fireballs struck the target dead-on.

In an instant, the target stopped.

[100!] [100!]

The number 100 flashed above both targets at the same time.

It meant he had hit the exact center.

Jun clenched both fists.

‘That’s it!’

Then a message appeared on the screen.

[Successfully hit the target 100 times in a row!]

Jun let out a cry of triumph.

He had finally done it.

100 consecutive hits on the target.

‘Perfect.’

At this level, he could be thrown into real combat without issue.

It was the culmination of roughly ten hours of grueling effort.

After a mere ten hours of training, he had reached a satisfactory level of simultaneous control over two Fireballs.

Guess I really am something special.

It felt embarrassing to admit it himself, but he couldn’t help but think it.

Other people’s heads were about to explode just from controlling a single spell.

But Gijun was perfectly controlling two at the same time.

Alright. That’s enough.

Conviction piled upon conviction in Gijun’s chest.

Tomorrow, he would turn Hwarang on its head — and the whole world along with it.

I can’t wait.

He genuinely wished tomorrow would come just a little bit sooner.

*

And so, the next day arrived.

Gijun arrived at the agreed-upon location.

The dungeon assigned to him today was a Level 2 dungeon: Ralph’s Plains.

Ralphs were beastmen — hybrids of dog and human.

They were monsters that lived in tribal packs, moving as a group.

Naturally, the difficulty was extremely high.

As mentioned, this was a solo dungeon.

What’s more, for a mage, monsters like Ralphs were especially tricky.

Dealing with those bastards swarming in from all sides like a pack of dogs would be a genuine ordeal.

And for a 1st-Circle mage to pull something like that off? Nearly impossible.

As such, most of the Superhumans present wore expressions as if a question mark were floating over their heads.

Even the moment Gijun appeared, their doubts didn’t fade in the slightest.

In the midst of it all, he spotted some familiar faces.

Branch Manager Cha Miyeong, Team Leader Park Yunseok, and Jiyun.

And then…

Step—

A woman walked up to Gijun and extended her hand.

“Mr. Baek Gijun. Nice to meet you. I’m Woo Jimin.”

It was Woo Jimin, Guild Master of Hwarang.

Tall, well over 170 centimeters, with a straight back and a confident expression.

She was exactly the Woo Jimin he’d seen in the media.