Chapter 150: Episode 30_My Person—No, My Otter (1)
1.
“Would gold not be acceptable?”
“Are you insane? I’m allergic to gold.”
“...Understood.”
“Wait, hold on!”
Han Simin had been haggling back and forth, trying to squeeze out anything and everything that could be converted into currency—anything but gold—and aiming to walk away with a haul worth a whopping 700,000 gold coins. Then, all of a sudden, he called for a stop.
There was only one reason.
“Ah, shit. I dragged this out too long. Those damn Kaiser bastards.”
Even on Han Simin’s own screen, projected in the hologram floating to his front left, the mountain range that had been completely invisible was now starting to show, faintly, through the fog.
No one in Fantastic World understood better than he did what that ant.
’It’s the end of my money printer.’
Not right this second, but the thinner the fog grew, the higher the expedition’s morale would climb. After a certain point, their combat power would surpass that of the monsters inside the range.
If the fog was thinning, it ant Sudal had burned through all its power—wherever it had managed to draw it from, now that not even a scrap of ore was left.
Once the fog disappeared, the Unknown Mountains would be nothing more than a slightly higher-difficulty hunting ground for the current level range.
In the process, a weakened Sudal would fall to the raid, players would stop coming to a “power-leveling” spot that had lost its unique gimmick, and Han Simin, who had been raking in obscene profits as the Secret rchant, would be forced to take down his sign.
That was bad enough, but an even worse scenario lood.
’If Sudal dies...’
That would be the absolute worst-case scenario.
Why had Han Simin robbed the ore and run instead of killing Sudal?
Obviously, he lacked the strength to kill an otter that had devoured so much ore, but with so clever planning, he could have found a way.
Even so, he had never intended to.
For one reason only.
’No way. Why would I kill a cash cow that can turn into a mine?’
Anyone who knew Sudal’s secret would think the sa.
And Han Simin had the perfect ability to take in a creature like that.
’Thank you, Mister Tar.’
His back had practically broken from raising that gold-devouring lizard day after day, but maybe this was his reward. His vision, once blurred by tears of hardship, was now in danger of being permanently obstructed by the sheer scale of his good fortune.
So how could he possibly waste ti haggling over a deal in a situation like this?
– Everyone, one month. I will end this war within one month.
On the stream, Kenji was practically announcing Sudal’s execution date loud enough for Han Simin to hear.
The “one month” he nad was the start date for the raid. If the fog thinned faster than expected, the expedition could march into the range at any ti and start slaughtering monsters wholesale.
If that happened, Han Simin’s rosy future would be gone for good.
He could throw away the Secret rchant persona and everything else, but Sudal was non-negotiable.
That ruthless determination was what made him abandon his imdiate profit.
“Hey, wait. Hold on. Everyone, hands off the ore!”
The dwarves looked at him in confusion.
“This won’t do. I can’t sell it all.”
“Sir? What do you an by that!”
From the dwarves’ perspective, it was an utterly outrageous statent.
They were at the point where all that remained was to stamp the contract and pay the deposit, and now he was canceling the whole thing without a word of explanation?
Even if he was a dragon, this was unacceptable.
“Why, you got a problem with that?”
“Ppaeaek!”
“...No, sir.”
They couldn’t accept it, but they had no choice but to agree.
It was the effect of their ancestors’ words, carved deep into their bones: ’If a dragon appears, give him everything down to the underwear you’re wearing.’
“In return, once I’ve used as much as I need, I’ll give you the rest for free. How’s that sound?”
The dwarves gasped.
Han Simin held out a sweet apple to the dwarves.
A favor born of guilt.
A once-in-a-lifeti gift.
“All right, we’re short on ti, so let’s move. If we’re going to finish everything in three days, we’ll have to work through the night.”
“...Excuse ?”
“What. You didn’t seriously think you were getting it for free, did you? Have you no sha?”
Or you could call it a labor fee.
The dwarves sprang into motion.
* * *
The Kaiser Guild mbers all logged in at once.
They hadn’t sworn a blood oath or anything, and they had all been born on different days, but when you die together at the sa ti and place, your sense of unity is bound to be sothing special.
“Son of a...!”
“People like that PK-ing bastard ought to get hit by a truck in real life.”
“Ah. I dropped my weapon.”
They had ways to contact each other as a guild outside the ga, and Fantastic World was so addictive that it was said there were plenty who had never tried it, but no one who had played it only once. So, naturally, all their grumbling happened inside the ga.
And that was as far as it went.
Not a single one of them took it any further.
Not even the guild master.
The guild master remained silent.
They had been so furious about the player who had ssed with them—and killed them—that after being logged out, they had gone digging.
From the way they were going, they might have hired a private investigator if it had been any harder. Unfortunately for their righteous fury, it never got that far.
Just plugging in a few key traits brought up the answer easily.
They found out about Han Simin and the Specialists.
“Why do monsters like that have to pick on common folk like us?”
“This is too much.”
“I heard they’re loaded, too.”
“They probably took all our items, right?”
“I hope they give them back.”
They even made a post on the community boards.
They detailed the situation and the unprovoked attack against them.
Naturally, all they got in return were harsh scoldings and abuse.
To the players of the Ain Kingdom, Han Simin was an object of admiration with a massive, loyal fanbase built through his streams. Besides, the Kaiser Guild were known as a bunch of thugs who monopolized hunting grounds with sheer numbers and sucked other players dry.
In the end, all they were left with were emotional scars and impoverished characters.
Still, they couldn’t just lie there and give up, so they headed back to their hunting grounds.
They told themselves they had just gotten splashed with sewage by accident.
’He’s supposedly busy with the war; surely he won’t co after us again.’
They soothed their frustration that way and tried to return to their daily routine of monopolizing hunting grounds and “enjoying” the ga.
Right then—
“What the hell? Who are you guys?”
The guild mbers looked around in confusion.
“Did you just waltz into my hunting ground without permission?”
Han Simin, who had waited exactly two days, greeted their return with open arms.
2.
While the Kaiser Guild was getting a taste of how bitter life could be, the Kenji Guild was steadily continuing its preparations.
“Tomorrow, at last.”
“We’ll enter, avoid Sudal as much as possible, and start by clearing the trash mobs.”
“Yes.”
They had sacrificed a lot and invested a great deal of ti.
Before full-dive VR gas, most PC online gas had seen players clear their endga content in less than a month—sotis in under a week. Compared to that, this was a raid so long you could call it an epic saga without exaggeration.
The seasons had already changed in the real world.
But no one here was getting sentintal or savoring the atmosphere.
At least, not among this group. Every one of them was a professional when it ca to gas.
PC online gas had never been prepared to handle players like them, which was why content had always been chewed through so quickly. Fantastic World, however, had more than enough in store, which was why this had taken so long.
Ordinary players might complain that the barrier to entry was too high or that the ga was too demanding, but for people who did nothing but play, there was no more perfect ga.
You challenge, you work, you achieve.
Isn’t that the common thread in every hobby?
In that sense, the Kenji Expedition was burning with passion.
The fact that they had overco a near-despairing mont and were now marching forward with renewed hope was an extra boost to morale.
They advanced.
Compared to when the fog had completely shrouded the range, it had thinned by more than half, and the monsters were weaker than they had been before Sudal’s rampage began.
On top of that, the expedition was no longer a ragtag group of curious players poking their heads into the mountains.
They had the attention of the entire continent.
They were people who wanted to seize sothing under that spotlight.
They were the ones who wanted to be the first to clear the Main Quest in this vast land called Fantastic World and hold the keys to the next Chapter.
That was no small thing.
It ant they had put everything on the line.
The monsters were forced to feel, firsthand, how terrifying players could be when they were willing to die without hesitation.
They didn’t have a map of the range, but they pushed quickly toward the skull markers that had been drawn on it.
Finding the path in that direction wasn’t difficult.
The monsters were all clustered that way.
“Monster respawns seem to be disabled while the Main Quest is in progress.”
“Good. Then we continue as planned.”
“Yes.”
As ti went on, a smile ford more and more often at the corners of Kenji’s mouth.
Everything was going smoothly.
The losses they had taken up to this point were anything but “smooth,” but if they achieved what they wanted in the end, that much was acceptable.
Especially when he thought about how he had spent months trailing behind the Specialists and Han Simin...
’I can give up more than that.’
If it all ended with money, Kenji couldn’t even call it a loss.
He steeled his resolve once more and checked Han Simin’s stream.
Lately, all he had been broadcasting was his eting with the dwarves, the way he had smashed so weird guild to pieces, and then, every other day, him logging in right when they did and relentlessly hunting them down again.
’Has he given up on the Main Quest?’
Kenji didn’t truly believe that, but the timing was awkward.
“We should prepare, just in case.”
No matter what, he wouldn’t interfere.
And even if he did, it didn’t matter.
By now, the Kenji Expedition had grown to a monstrous size, and the players in it were consud by the desire to bring down this Main Quest boss no matter what.
If Han Simin tried to monopolize the Main Quest here and suddenly grab the expedition by the ankle, he would beco a traitor to Fantastic World itself.
More than anything, by the ti those people made it from wherever they were to the Unknown Mountains, the raid would already be over.
Even if, by so chance, their first try failed, there was still plenty of ti.
He kept only a faint curiosity about why they were doing all that over there instead of focusing on the Main Quest, and focused on maintaining the current montum.
And so, interest in Han Simin and the Specialists faded.
For Kenji, for the players, and for the viewers.
At the sa ti, at so point, Han Simin’s stream went dark and stayed that way.
Debate over the reason started to bubble up on the community boards, but even that died down quickly.
“We’re going into a full assault.”
Because the movie was ready to sprint toward its ending.
Players who hadn’t even been able to set foot near the range for almost a month gathered together.
Their numbers were far greater than they had been a month ago.
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