Chapter 6 :

First, registration.

 

['Using a Low-Grade Summon Scroll!']

[Player 'Baek Jinwoo' has acquired the summon 'Filth Blob' (F-rank)!]

 

['Using a Low-Grade Summon Scroll!']

[Player 'Baek Jinwoo' has acquired the summon 'Horn Butterfly' (F-rank)!]

 

Two F-ranks came out first.

 

['Using a Low-Grade Summon Scroll!']

[Player 'Baek Jinwoo' has acquired the summon 'Poison Lizard' (E-rank)!]

 

Oh, an E-rank!

 

Baek Jinwoo clenched his fist tight and shouted nice inwardly.

 

This is a good start, isn’t it? If Lamba counts as E-rank too, then he’d broken through a 5% probability twice in just five tries.

 

Not bad.

 

'A Poison Lizard, too?'

 

For its rank, it was actually a pretty useful little guy. A summon with excellent cost-effectiveness.

 

'Lucky me.'

 

Heh heh.

 

Along with Fur Gorilla, it would be very useful for getting past the early game.

 

“Come here.”

 

When Baek Jinwoo held out his hand—

 

Whirr!

 

The Fire Butterfly flew over and landed on his left forearm, while the Filth Blob crawled over beneath his legs.

 

'This one...'

 

It really does smell pretty awful. I should use it a little, then toss it.

 

And then—

 

Sslurp, sllrp!

 

The Poison Lizard also flicked out its tongue and came crawling over.

 

'For now, I’ve got a team comp with this, so let’s start by going around the lowest-tier dungeons.'

 

Now there was only one thing he had to do. Level up his summons, keep ripping summon scrolls, and once he had a decent combination set up—

 

That was when the serious rune farming would begin.

 

'Runes', which were basically like equipment items for summons, were the more, the better. Because you could swap them in and out depending on the situation!

 

'Mine runes, hunt, rip summon scrolls.'

 

If you repeated those three things endlessly, that was the growth system. Little by little, he’d be able to raise better runes and better summons.

 

'Back to grinding again, huh?'

 

There is no RPG in this world without grinding. Even if it had become reality, that didn’t change.

 

No, if you think about it, reality is the same, isn’t it?

 

Whether it’s studying or doing business, you have to repeat the actions that match your goal if you want to succeed.

 

Baek Jinwoo set a short-term goal.

 

'Find all the remaining EX-rank... those guys.'

 

What would happen if he gathered all ten EX-ranks and made a dream team?

 

“Damn.”

 

He imagined it for just a moment, and a curse slipped out on the spot.

 

It was broken. Completely, utterly broken.

 

Baek Jinwoo, picturing an Avengers lineup in his head, soon became certain.

 

If only he could gather them all, then whether it was five S-ranks or whatever—he could just wipe them all out. He’d probably clear the Tower of Trials all the way to the 100th floor too.

 

'Ahh.'

 

His heart raced. It was so exciting that he felt like he had to move right away.

 

But where were the dungeons?

 

Back when it was a phone game, it had been like this: the dungeons were divided by stage, and all you had to do was click and enter.

 

But reality?

 

This wasn’t a phone game. It seemed like he’d have to find the dungeons himself.

 

Swish.

 

Baek Jinwoo took out the phone he’d gotten connected earlier that day and searched for related information.

 

And then soon—

 

'What?!'

 

He shouted without even realizing it.

 

“Seriously?”

 

Dungeon gates appeared randomly all over the neighborhood. Fortunately, you could tell the difficulty by the amount of energy extracted from the gate, but...

 

'Civilians can’t enter dungeons even if they have summons?'

 

Damn it!

 

So it’s not something I can do right away?

 

When he looked into it more carefully, it said he had to register at Player Headquarters first.

 

Apparently, it used to be open to everyone, but because the death rate had gotten too high, the government decided to manage it directly.

 

There was a management staff member stationed in front of every dungeon, and you could only enter after receiving entry approval from them.

 

“Ha.”

 

And of all things, it was a law newly established this very year.

 

My luck really is trash.

 

'And registration looks annoying too.'

 

There seemed to be quite a lot of training courses he had to complete, plus dungeon practice and battle practice too.

 

'They even make people compete?'

 

It was probably to control the number of players. After all, society needs a variety of jobs to function smoothly.

 

If everyone became a player just because it made money, there would inevitably be trouble.

 

“Well, registration is annoying, but whatever.”

 

Bzzt—

 

Grumbling, he called his younger sister.

 

-Oh, oppa.

 

Oh, she picked up right away?

 

Looks like she really had meant it when she said earlier that he could ask anytime if he needed help.

 

“To enter dungeons, I have to do some registration thing? Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

-Ah! Right, that!

 

Baek Ajin laughed awkwardly as she continued.

 

-A few days ago, I saw something like a player certificate arrive by registered mail, so I guess that was it. So the law changed, huh?

 

“If it’s something that important, how could you not tell me?”

 

-Haha, sorry. Honestly, I didn’t know exactly either. I heard players who did dungeon activities more than ten times last year got registered automatically. I vaguely remember glancing at it and moving on, but I didn’t think of you, oppa. People who slacked off last year probably all had their qualifications revoked. I heard a lot of people are crowding in because of that... what are you going to do? Looks like you’ll end up competing with seniors who have three years on you.

 

“There’s nothing you can do with your influence?”

 

-Oppa... what kind of power do you think I have?

 

“What, all that bragging about being a C-rank Shadow Elf and whatever—when was that?”

 

-Oh, come on! Headquarters is pretty strict. You’d need to be at least in the rankings to have any influence there.

 

“Rankings?”

 

-Ah, you don’t know? The system evaluates influence every year and assigns rankings. Top 100 in Korea, and then top 100 in the world too.

 

“Ahh.”

 

-Of course, the level of our country is so pathetic that even Korea’s rank 1 can’t make it into another country’s rankings. Ugh, that damned God Ji-nu, God Ji-nu! If only that legendary God Ji-nu showed up, our country would skyrocket too.

 

“Right... okay. Thanks.”

 

When his sister brought up God Ji-nu, Baek Jinwoo, feeling slightly guilty, quickly ended the call.

 

Anyway.

 

To be active properly, he had to get certified. And there were rankings too, huh?

 

'Okay.'

 

I’ve already set things up well enough, so for today, let’s just go in and sleep.

 

* * *

 

The next day.

 

6 a.m.

 

He woke up early and was about to head out right away, but—

 

“Ah.”

 

Mom and Dad were already awake and preparing breakfast.

 

Our family.

 

We’re really diligent.

 

“Hm? Where are you heading so early in the morning?”

 

His father, who had been preparing the meal, asked.

 

“To Jamsil.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Didn’t you hear from Ajin? You told me I should try becoming a player or whatever. It’s because of that.”

 

“Ahh, so what Ajin was busily taking care of was preparing for you to become a player.”

 

“Yes. Since I’m three years behind, I have to move even more diligently.”

 

“Ahem.”

 

His father gave a slight cough and stared at him quietly.

 

There was something proud in his eyes.

 

“Son.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Even so, I was worried, but I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses the moment you got up.”

 

“I have to come to my senses. I heard registration and all that got a lot tougher.”

 

“That’s true. Still, it’s definitely a job with a future. Just look at your dad. Aren’t I cool?”

 

Vrrrr!

 

His father flicked his hand and proudly tried to summon a 'Pebble Golem' (E-rank), but—

 

“Honey!”

 

His mother frowned and scolded him.

 

“I told you not to summon that thing in the house! It bothers everyone!”

 

“Haha, sorry.”

 

He carried the hand he had flicked straight to the back of his head and scratched it.

 

Strictly speaking, his father was not a player. It wasn’t like he went through dungeons with the Pebble Golem—he worked loading and unloading freight.

 

“Anyway, I was worried, but I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses as soon as you woke up. Always keep fighting.”

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

Baek Jinwoo smiled back at him. Then he bowed his head slightly.

 

“Mom, Dad. Thank you.”

 

“Hm? All of a sudden?”

 

“For paying my hospital bills and even cheering me on.”

 

“What’s with suddenly saying something so admirable? That’s enough. Save it. More importantly, you’re eating before you go, right?”

 

“Yes, don’t worry. After going hungry for three whole years, my stomach clock is telling me to make sure I eat.”

 

After all, he had barely managed to survive—what if he died all over again?

 

But.

 

Baek Jincheol had insisted strongly.

 

He said that when he looked at the golem in the hospital room, the look in his son’s eyes had resembled the one he used to have when he concentrated on that old phone game.

 

It was the first time his son had ever become immersed in something constructive.

 

Even if it was dangerous, Baek Jincheol believed the right thing to do was support him from behind.

 

'Be careful, son.'

 

Hwang Myeonghui gazed wistfully at the door her son had gone out through.

 

* * *

 

“Did you sleep well?”

 

“I slept more than enough for three years. I’m sick of it now.”

 

It was true.

 

Just let me finish registration. From now on, it’s 6 a.m. start, 2 a.m. finish. I’m going to run myself ragged.

 

Even now, he didn’t really have time to be standing around like this.

 

“Anyway, enjoy your meal~ I’m off!”

 

As soon as he finished greeting them and went out, Baek Jinwoo’s mother, Hwang Myeonghui, lightly tapped Baek Jincheol on the shoulder.

 

“Honey.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Will he really be okay like that?”

 

“It’s better than staying lying around listlessly after getting up. The government’s been doing thorough safety training these days, so he’ll be fine.”

 

“...Even so.”

 

“Who knows? Maybe our Jinwoo will become the greatest player in the world.”

 

“I’m not even hoping for something like that. I just want him to stay healthy.”

 

How worried had she been while tending to him through his illness?

 

Every day, she prayed in gratitude to the heavens just for the fact that he was still alive.

 

In truth, she was against her son becoming a player.

 

Because it was a more dangerous profession than people thought.

 

* * *

 

Are there a lot of players?

 

Actually, not really.

 

Even though all humanity had gained the qualifications to become players, the number of people who were actually active was lower than expected.

 

That was unavoidable.

 

Statistically, more people prefer safety over danger.

 

First of all, the biggest thing was that you had to risk your life.

 

A 'barrier' disappeared when all summons were completely unsummoned.

 

So if you entered a dungeon and, by some mistake, all your summons got unsummoned?

 

You died. Just like that.

 

And not peacefully either, but in horrifying ways—torn apart, bitten to death, dismembered.

 

No matter how great the rewards were, no matter how much fame it brought, there was a reason people couldn’t challenge it so easily.

 

In South Korea’s case, especially, the country recorded an enormous dungeon death rate in the early days.

 

The reason was a bit tragic and absurd. It was a kind of greed.

 

Maybe you could call it protagonist syndrome?

 

Influenced by fantasy novels and martial arts fiction, people got caught up in the delusion that they themselves were the true protagonist, forced their way through dungeons recklessly, and ended up dying as a result.

 

There was even a hypothesis that the reason South Korea, a gaming powerhouse, always ranked near the bottom in battle was because it had lost so many talented gamers in their 20s and 30s back then.

 

“Hello. Are you here to register?”

 

When he went to the registration department at Player Headquarters, a neatly dressed employee kindly guided him.

 

“You came just in time. Today is the deadline for this month. You can submit your application here.”

 

The required items were as follows:

 

Resident registration card.

 

One fully assembled summon team.

 

A player application form containing personal information.

 

They held competition through player battles.

 

As a result, only exactly 50 people each month could obtain the title of 'Player'.

 

'Fifty people...'

 

That’s brutal.

 

Very brutal.

 

Why?

 

Because even at this very moment, there were already hundreds of people registering in the registration department.

 

And the funny thing was, most of them weren’t even beginners.

 

They were probably people who had once been players, then had their registration canceled, and had now gathered to earn it back.

 

'But whatever.'

 

Baek Jinwoo was confident.

 

If it was a competition, they’d probably evaluate things pretty fairly, and if that was the case, he could easily beat these people.

 

If I can’t even pass something like this...

 

Wouldn’t the name One Heaven, Five Emperors, God Ji-nu be crying in shame?

 

“Here you go.”

 

After submitting the documents, Baek Jinwoo moved to a nearby café and waited leisurely.

 

While searching up this and that.

 

Once you submit the application?

 

You receive training in teams for a certain period of time, then take a written exam. After that, you complete the dungeon practical exam, and then...