“…So, we’re recruiting hunters.”

“Ah, yes.”

The ten-minute explanation came to an end.

Go Byeonggap looked down at the pamphlet, a little dazed.

Kim Seulgi seemed to have a sore throat from spilling all those words. After moistening it with lukewarm green tea, she spoke again.

“If you’re interested, why not apply?”

“No, I’m not really… interested.”

At her suggestion, Go Byeonggap immediately expressed his refusal.

To sum up what Kim Seulgi had said in one line: ‘The Association and several guilds are leading a North Korea recovery project—would you like to consider applying?’

Go Byeonggap wasn’t into it.

‘Why would I go there?’

He understood it was a well-intentioned project. He also knew it was something you’d be lucky to experience twice in a lifetime.

But it had nothing to do with him. If they paid a lot, maybe. As it was, they were probably just offering pocket change to save face…

“Ah, not interested? That’s a shame. The pay and conditions are quite decent, you know.”

“How much are we talking?”

“As I mentioned earlier, the first expedition team will carry out the mission for three months. Upon completion, the base pay is two billion won, with various allowances on top—”

“T-Two billion!?”

Go Byeonggap shouted, so startled his voice echoed through the entire second-floor lobby. Heads turned instinctively, but he didn’t even notice.

“Yes, yes. Just the base pay is two billion, and with all the extra allowances, it’ll actually be more than that.”

“N-No… why so much?”

“Huh?”

Kim Seulgi blinked, caught off guard by the question. Byeonggap couldn’t bring himself to ask, What’s the stingy Association gotten into, handing out two billion like that?

He took a moment to steady himself.

“I just thought it seemed like a lot for three months’ work.”

“Well, the risk level is high, so that’s probably why. And as I said, the budget was set at an unprecedented level.”

“Ah.”

Byeonggap felt a sudden surge of enthusiasm. A full two billion—two billion!

Two billion wasn’t exactly chump change, was it?

‘With two billion, I could wipe out the debt in one shot and even get Mom the best treatment.’

His mind was already made up.

“So if I apply, am I guaranteed to get in?”

“No, not guaranteed. Since you’re a D-rank Hunter, Hunter Go Byeonggap, you’d be assigned as a porter if you apply. Only a hundred and fifty porters are selected nationwide.”

“Ah… so the chances are pretty slim, right?”

“But it’s based on performance rankings. And your track record is quite impressive, so you never know. Plus, recruitment just started.”

Hearing that he had good performance stats, Byeonggap felt a swell of pride. It was like the last three years of grinding tooth and nail were finally being recognized.

“Speaking of which… if I apply, I’d be stuck as a porter?”

“Yes. Porters are drawn exclusively from lower-rank hunters. The raid teams are all composed of higher-rank hunters.”

“So the pay differs too, right?”

“Naturally.”

“Can you tell me how big the gap is?”

“The plan isn’t finalized yet, so I can’t give exact numbers, but it’ll probably be about double.”

‘Double means four billion. Huh…’

His mind went blank at the figure four billion. Byeonggap shook his head vigorously to snap out of it.

“…I’ll apply for now. Can I do it right away?”

“Of course. Absolutely.”

Kim Seulgi rummaged out the application forms. Byeonggap followed her guidance and filled them out.

It took about fifteen minutes before everything was done.

“All right, you’re all set.”

“When will I hear back?”

“Applications close Wednesday, and the results will be out this Friday. You’ll get a text at the phone number you provided.”

“That’s fast.”

“The first expedition is next week. Even if you don’t make it this round, there’ll be a second recruitment soon—try again then.”

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know. Take care.”

“Have a good evening.”

Go Byeonggap stepped out of the Association. The evening air bit cold against his skin.

‘Expedition duty. Three months as a porter for two billion won—basically free money.’

Two billion. No reason not to apply. And it wasn’t even combat, right? A damn good deal.

‘If I got on the actual raid team, the pay would be better… but I’m a D-rank on paper.’

His official grade: D.

His real strength matched B-rank, but in a system that judged by karma volume and density, that meant nothing.

He’d thought about requesting a re-evaluation. Decided against it.

Except for special situations like this, surface rank barely mattered to a solo worker like him.

No guarantee a re-test would bump him higher either. Worse, his unknown power could draw unwanted attention.

‘Hope I get picked.’

Thinking that, he slid into his car. If he made the expedition, he could finally upgrade to something decent.

* * *

Some people said time flowed without mercy.

True enough, however you looked at it. Like the old saying—wring a rooster’s neck and dawn still comes. The earth kept spinning, indifferent.

Byeonggap’s days followed a familiar rhythm.

Wake early. Hunt a rift. Return home and head for Asvillam.

There, he’d tend to business and check on his goblins.

Lately, he’d found a strange joy in adding new things to Asvillam.

First move: grow another crop.

Sure, potatoes and sweet potatoes already fed his three hundred goblins plenty. The elixir of Growth had slashed harvest times to almost nothing.

But where was the satisfaction in a table without grain?

So he picked rice.

«Yeah, just keep digging that way.»

«Got it!»

«Wait, no—hold on.»

«Uh, okay!»

Farming was no joke. A man with zero know-how and nothing but guts had no business wading in.

He was only mimicking videos he’d downloaded.

But he wouldn’t quit. Fail enough times, and maybe you’d crawl close to success.

«This looks good enough, right? Don’t you think?»

«Uh… I dunno.»

He carved a rice paddy beside the potato patch.

Smoothed it with a harrow, linked it to the irrigation ditch. Water from the valley poured in and pooled. He slammed the sluice shut before it overflowed.

The rice field was taking shape now, looking like the ones he’d seen on broadcasts. All that remained was transplanting the seedlings he’d brought in.

«Alright—let’s plant the rice! Everybody in!»

Wednesday saw dozens of goblins squatting in the paddy, transplanting rice shoots.

A day passed.

The next morning, Go Byeonggap stood staring at the chicken coop, sunk deep in thought.

‘Should I bring in new livestock? Or not?’

Right now, chickens were the only livestock in Asvillam.

He’d gotten them almost by accident. But looking back, he’d made a damn good choice.

‘Easy to raise, feed costs next to nothing.’

Chickens thrived even when he just left them alone.

Toss a couple roosters into the henhouse every so often, and they’d breed, scrap, and sort everything out on their own.

On top of that, they gave him eggs. If there was a filial-piety award in the livestock world, chickens would take it hands down.

‘What about other animals, though?’

The options were plenty:

cows, pigs, horses, goats, rabbits. The most obvious picks were cows or pigs.

“Hmm. Neither of those is easy.”

For one thing, cows and pigs took up space. A couple heads, maybe. But raising dozens? That meant a huge plot of land.

Building the barn alone would be no joke. And the initial capital?

Feed was an even bigger headache. Just covering what those massive beasts ate would be a burden.

‘Pigs are omnivores—I could toss them scraps—but cows need hay…’

Go Byeonggap groaned.

‘For now, I should focus on chickens. Once I get past the Mist, I’ll try raising pigs.’

That’s where he landed.

Better to concentrate on one thing than to spread himself thin.

So on Thursday, he and Gobungi expanded the chicken coop.

Before he knew it, it was Friday.

The day’s fortune wasn’t good. He’d scouted out a B-rank rift the day before, but when he got there, it already had an owner.

“Tch…”

Bitter, he lit a cigarette and pulled out his phone, searching for any rifts nearby worth hitting.

“Damn. All E or F-rank.”

Go Byeonggap clicked his tongue, then suddenly felt a strange sense of wonder. Back in the day, he’d have jumped at these. Now he didn’t even glance at anything below C-rank.

“I’ve come a long way. But there’s nothing decent around here. Do I really have to go all the way down to Wonju? And if I do, who knows how long… Huh?”

Buzzz!

His phone rang out of nowhere—a text message.

What’s this? Frowning slightly, he checked it.

Congratulations on your acceptance! You have been selected for the 1st North Korean Peninsula Expedition Team.

Orientation (Mandatory!) Date: September 20, 2025 (Sat) 14:00. Location: 4th Floor Grand Hall, Ancient Building, Jongno-gu, Seoul.

Go Byeonggap stared at his phone blankly for a few seconds. What was this again? He even had to think about it.

A few more seconds passed. Then he let out a cry.

“Ah! This!”

The application he’d half-heartedly submitted on Monday—the one he’d barely dared to believe in—had actually been accepted. Go Byeonggap felt like he was dreaming.

“Wow. This is actually happening. …Wait. I can’t just stand here.”

Go Byeonggap packed up immediately and headed back to Seoul. A two-billion-won job had just fallen into his lap—what did it matter if he took the day off?

He didn’t know when the expedition would depart, but if he was going to be gone for three months, there was a lot to sort out.

Calmly and methodically, he began tidying up his surroundings.

Just like that, the day slipped by.

The next morning dawned.

After a quick lunch, Go Byeonggap headed to Jongno for the orientation.

‘Should’ve taken the subway. Why is traffic this bad?’

He regretted driving. Still, he’d left early enough—he wouldn’t be late.

Following the GPS navigation, Go Byeonggap found the Ancient Building. When he descended into the underground parking lot to park, his jaw dropped.

“Whoa… Is this a supercar showroom or what?”

Cars worth hundreds of millions were packed tightly in rows. Amidst them, his little red compact car looked impossibly shabby.

‘One scratch and I lose two billion.’

He focused every ounce of his attention as he parked, terrified of scraping anything.

After parking, he went straight upstairs.

At the first-floor reception desk, a neatly dressed middle-aged man in formal wear helped guide him.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m here for the orientation on the fourth floor.”

“May I ask for your name?”

“Go Byeonggap.”

“Could I see your ID, please?”

“Ah, yes.”

The middle-aged man glanced at Go Byeonggap’s ID and searched for something. After a moment, he nodded and handed over a name tag.

“Yes. Please use the elevator at the back.”

“Thank you.”

The name tag had his name on it, and below that, an unknown code: C-7.

Go Byeonggap pinned it to his chest and headed for the elevator.

‘Why are there no buttons in this elevator? …Ah. I need to scan this thing? Whoa, neat.’

So this was how high-end buildings did things.

He was full of admiration.

When he reached the fourth floor, a wide corridor stretched out before him. At the end stood a large, arched door.

He figured that was the place and walked over. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, and a dim space greeted him.

—Swoosh!

As soon as he opened the door, a massive wave of karma crashed over him. It was enough to make every hair on his body stand on end.

The torrent of karma came from the people who had arrived before him.

Go Byeonggap realized it instantly. Just what kind of incredible people were gathered here?

At the front of the hundreds of seats was a wide platform.

Go Byeonggap didn’t want to look cowed, so he straightened his back with forced nonchalance.

He found a seat that seemed empty enough and settled in.

‘1:20. Still plenty of time before it starts.’

He glanced at the clock, then let his eyes drift, sneakily studying the hundred or so people who’d arrived early.

‘Is that Woo Wontae? And there’s Ma Siyeong. Whoa, Gu Dowon’s here too? This is insane — I’m going to work with people like them?’

S-rank hunters he’d only ever seen on TV were right in front of him. He wasn’t some teenage girl, but his heart still hammered.

He was just starting to toy with the childish thought of bragging about this to everyone he knew when a voice came from beside him.

“Mind if I sit here?”

“Huh?”

The speaker was a tall, striking woman.

Her face was familiar, but the name stubbornly refused to surface.

She sat down in the seat next to Go Byeonggap.

“I didn’t expect to run into you here. Good to see you. So you signed up for the expedition team too, Mr. Byeonggap?”

“Ah, yes. Yes.”

“How have you been?”

“Getting by. And you…?”

When Go Byeonggap trailed off, she caught on and spoke up.

“Did you forget me, by any chance?”

“No. I remember you. But honestly, your name’s not coming to me.”

“It’s Yeom Jeonghwa.”

“Ah!”

He let out a small exclamation.

That was it. She was Yeom Jeonghwa, the B-rank hunter he’d delved into a dungeon with in Daejeon.