Chapter 14: Training Tower (1)

“Che Yerim.”

“Huh? What’s with this? My jerk of an older brother is actually calling me by my name so affectionately?” Che Yerim, the joint representative and external affairs manager of the Shinwa Guild, retorted cheerfully.

But her smile quickly faded as a shadow fell across her face. “So you must have really screwed up this time, huh?”

“Let me explain.”

“No need for explanations. You outright threatened Team Leader Lee from the training facility, didn’t you? Told him not to report the damage to Training Room S-2?”

“No, that’s not—” Cold sweat began to trickle down Che Soohyun’s forehead.

“And it was you who wiped all the CCTV footage from before and after the damage, as well as the training room entry logs, right?”

“It wasn’t a threat. I asked Team Leader Lee for a favor—and I even bought him a drink!”

“We’ve decided to call it blackmail when a superior asks an employee for a favor without compensation. And if you’re going to buy something, at least buy something decent—Sol’s Eye? Why Sol’s Eye of all things?”

”…”

Che Yerim approached Che Soohyun, who remained silent like a mute with honey in his mouth. She walked right past him, narrowing her eyes as she examined the soot marks on the wall behind him.

“Who did this?”

“I did.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I know better than anyone how clumsy you are with Fire-attribute martial arts. Do you think I’m stupid?”

Che Soohyun lowered his head, looking dejected. It was a lie so obvious, even a child wouldn’t believe it.

“Only someone with the ability to damage an S-rank training room like this could have done it, and that’s only Shihu. But he’s in Japan right now. So it must be an outsider, then?”

”…”

Che Soohyun fell completely silent.

Che Yerim shrugged and said, “Well, if this happened during training and wasn’t done on purpose to mess with us, it’s fine.”

“Right?”

“Of course, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t claim damages. With this level of destruction, it’ll cost at least five billion won. We’ll have to replace everything entirely.”

“Five billion won…?”

“Absolutely. Apart from the cost itself, we don’t even know how long it’ll take. We’ll have to bring in master craftsmen directly from the Iron House.”

The dark clouds that had cleared from Che Soohyun’s face returned.

“So tell me honestly. Who did this?” Che Yerim asked, her expression subtle but pointed.

Five billion won.

If he didn’t give a proper answer now, the consequences were clear.

After agonizing deliberation, Che Soohyun answered with eyes that seemed to have reached enlightenment.

”…I did it.”

“Really? So it was you, Oppa?”

“Yeah, I did it. So what are you going to do about it now?”

“What’s there to do?”

A smile blossomed on Che Yerim’s face.

“Deposit five billion won into the training facility maintenance team’s account by tomorrow. And I gave Section Chief, whom you threatened, a bonus of three hundred million won. Deposit that into my account too.”

“But… wait…”

“It’s Yuhan Bank. You know my account number, right?”

With that, Che Yerim turned and disappeared through the door, not even waiting for her brother’s reply.

Left alone, Che Soohyun muttered with a devastated expression, “That vile brat. To think I’m related to someone like that…”

“Did you call me?” Che Yerim asked, peeking her head into the training room.

“No,” Che Soohyun replied.

Che Yerim chuckled, waving her hand dismissively. “Well, you seem to have taken quite a shine to him, Oppa.”

“Hmm?”

“The real culprit who burned down our training room.”

With that, Che Yerim left the training room completely.

Once his sister’s presence had faded, Che Soohyun, still smarting from her parting shot, let out a cautious sigh.

”…I never intended to help him this much.”

He felt a bitter taste in his mouth, lamenting how he’d already begun providing modest assistance to Taejun.

“A few hundred should be enough, right?”

“That S-rank training room. The one I left those burn marks on.”

The Shinwa Guild’s training room was equipped with all sorts of cutting-edge technology. Even the slightest damage would undoubtedly cost a fortune to repair.

“Crude?”

Come to think of it, Management Mi had remained indifferent even while I was marveling at the S-rank training room’s functions. Not surprising, considering he worked for a company that managed the Status Window itself.

One million won.

Perhaps it was unexpectedly that manageable after all.

If the initial repairs had cost such a fortune,

Che Soohyun would never have let it go so easily.

He even told me I could use it anytime without permission.

“Right, it couldn’t have been much more than that.”

With Management Mi’s help, my mental burden had completely lifted. Now it was time to plan our next move.

“Let’s see here.”

I pulled out my smartphone.

Management Mi, who had been lukewarm about the training room discussion, suddenly perked up, emojis popping in her eyes, and pressed closer.

I checked the memo where I had outlined our future plans.

Drawing an X through the top item, I muttered,

“First, we confirmed the power of Fireball.”

Originally, the next step was to apply for a rank promotion assessment at Hunter Union Headquarters.

My stats were already sufficient to advance to C-rank.

Essence stones tax distribution ratios vary by rank.

It was a world where dungeon raids were permitted, and even the monthly allowance for these raids varied. Promotion was an unavoidable necessity. Yet I shook my head. I had something else in mind first.

Management Mi, after reviewing my memo, asked, “Mana Cap Secured? Could you explain what this means, Taejun-ssi?”

“There’s not much to explain,” I said, activating my Status Window and bringing up my character information app.

“Your mana’s far too low compared to your other stats. If you don’t address this, you might not pass the promotion exam, depending on how they assess it.”

Of course, there were plenty of other reasons to increase my total Mana capacity.

Management Mi tilted her head inquisitively, her fingers pausing over the chat window.

My investigation in the S-2 training room had revealed that the Archmage’s Fireball possessed twice the destructive power of a standard Fireball. In exchange, it consumed exactly 10 percent of my total Mana as a base cost.

At first glance, this might seem inefficient.

For every 10 percent increment charged into the Archmage’s Fireball, its power could be stacked by the equivalent of two standard Fireballs. A 20 percent charge would multiply its power to match that of four ordinary Fireballs.

30% charge yields six Fireballs.

40% charge yields eight Fireballs.

When mana is fully depleted, reaching 100% charge,

it becomes possible to create a condensed fireball with the destructive power equivalent to twenty ordinary Fireballs.

Even if it’s the basic fire skill, Fireball, condensing twenty shots into a single orb naturally results in destructive power rivaling most S-class skills.

That’s how I managed to pierce through the Fire Centipede’s flame-resistant carapace in one shot.

Something that would have been impossible with conventional Fireballs, no matter how many hundreds of them I hurled.

“Exactly.”

It’s not possible to increase mana and suddenly spam twenty Fireballs at once, or boost the potency to equal thirty ordinary Fireballs.

Well, the amount of Mana condensed within a Fireball would certainly increase.

From a certain perspective, it was a valid point.

The more Mana one possesses, the longer it naturally takes to recover.

Moreover, the greater the amount of Mana expelled at once,

the greater the physical strain would be.

Yet I shook my head and replied,

“I have no intention of limiting myself to just Fireball.”

In the future, I plan to acquire various skills beyond Fireball.

In that case…

“If my total Mana capacity increases, I’ll be able to use other skills freely even after using Fireball.”

Currently, my total Mana is 20.

If I were to expend 80% of it to recharge,

I’d use 16 Mana, leaving only 4 remaining.

The amount of mana I have is barely enough to cast even a basic C-tier buff skill properly.

Now, let’s assume my total mana capacity is 200.

In the same situation, I’d have 40 mana left—more than enough to use several B-tier attack skills without draining completely.

Ah, I see. Now that you mention it, having a higher total mana capacity is definitely better.

Management Mi finally chimed in on the chat window, typing slowly.

“You’d figure that out with just a little thought.”

Um, well, I just pretended not to know because I wanted to hear you explain it directly, Taejun!

But honestly, she seemed to have given it no thought at all.

Ahem, anyway… So, is there a special way to increase total mana capacity on Earth?

“There is.”

The most commonly known method?

Unsurprisingly, it’s consistently conquering dungeons and gates while hunting monsters.

Unlike other stats that increase simply through physical training, Mana only increases by directly confronting and hunting monsters.

This explained why my Mana had stagnated even after unlocking the “Remarkable Growth” ability.

But there was more.

Just once, there was an opportunity to increase Mana through an attribute unrelated to hunting.

The next morning, I took a deep breath before a dungeon entrance in the heart of Ilsan, Gyeonggi-do, a newly developed city.

A white Ma Tower pierced through the clouds, its peak rising majestically into the sky.

I stared at the dimension gate where a metal plaque stood, the empty plaza before it devoid of waiting players.

“It used to be a hotspot for rookie hunters,” I muttered, “but it seems a lot of them died here too.”

“Yeah. It was famous because you could increase your stats and Mana even without fighting monsters.”

This tower contained no monsters. Instead, an old monk NPC known as Ilcheon Dangsa resided within. Completing the “trials” he offered would raise the corresponding stat.

For instance, to increase Strength, one had to perform 20 hours of bodyweight exercises like push-ups, among other calisthenics.

Agility felt like playing tag with Ilcheon Dangsa across a field riddled with obstacles and traps.

Of course, even if you failed, your life wasn’t in danger.

But you could only enter once, so there were no second chances.

“Exactly.”

“They say it drove people mad.”

“The NPC who administers the trials went senile, apparently.”

Well, I don’t know if he actually went senile or was just pretending.

Anyway, at some point, this old monk’s “trials”—though maintaining the same basic structure—became absurdly difficult.

Naturally, the number of hunters failing skyrocketed.

As a result, the dungeon was now a ghost town, with only flies buzzing around.

Of course, that meant I could embark on my expedition immediately, without waiting in line.

“Not at all.”

Even before finding this dungeon, I’d checked the hunter information site for details about the trials offered by the old monk.

While trials involving other stats might pose a challenge, anything related to Mana was well within reach of my “ability.”

No, “overcoming” was too weak a word.

A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I stepped through the dimensional gate.

“Alright, let’s go.”

I intended to thoroughly exploit that old monk, sucking him dry.

Mana.

Fresh Mana, brimming in this dungeon.