Chapter 31

Fever Time

 

Han Shin was born with an exceptional gift for perceiving people.

Especially when it came to gauging someone’s strength, he possessed a natural talent.

This talent awakened as the skill ‘Mind’s Eye’, allowing him to see an opponent’s stats at a glance.

Of course, there was a limitation—he could only use it on those at a lower level than himself.

‘All stats are at 1?’

It was a number he found hard to believe.

Every one of Park Chan-woo’s ‘base stats’ was only 1.

Even elderly people on the verge of death had higher stats than that.

It was like looking at the stats of a newborn infant.

For a fully grown adult, these numbers were absurdly low.

Wondering if he’d misread, Han Shin examined Park Chan-woo’s complexion.

‘…Is he a terminal patient?’

His face was pale to the point of being ashen.

Chapped lips, dry, cracked skin, dark shadows under his eyes, dull pupils, sunken cheeks…

After considering all these signs, Han Shin was able to accept it.

Park Chan-woo looked like a terminally ill patient on the verge of death.

Someone who should be in an ICU on life support was somehow standing here.

According to his Mind’s Eye, those with extremely low stats were often in critical condition.

Many thought their awakening had cured them and ventured outside, only to meet a tragic end.

This man must have been one of them.

‘He’s definitely not the one.’

Han Shin was looking for the person who had stolen his arrangements and killed the Water God.

They were likely a higher level than him, with an extraordinary stat ratio—an ‘Irregular’ of an entirely different caliber.

But…

‘…No one here.’

He had scanned exactly 627 people’s stats, yet none appeared to be the individual or group capable of hunting the Water God.

Had he missed someone?

It had taken him about thirty seconds to scan all 627 people around the statue of Admiral Yi Sun-sin.

No one had left in that short time.

He possessed superhuman eyesight and reflexes and was renowned for his heightened senses.

The claim that he had the ‘greatest talent in humanity’ was not an exaggeration.

And yet, he had missed someone.

If the person he sought were here, he would have noticed.

Even without his Mind’s Eye, it was almost impossible to fool Han Shin’s eyes.

But no matter how he looked, there was no one here who seemed capable of hunting the Water God.

Even Lee Hyuk-soo, whom Han Shin had considered, wouldn’t be able to do it—plus, Lee Hyuk-soo had been with him the entire time in the Water God Abyss.

…Who could it be?

Who on earth…

“Barely made it out alive!”

“Damn it. I can’t even think about going into another dungeon.”

“Someone… Please take me to a hospital!”

People began to scatter one by one.

Han Shin grew more anxious.

Though he was skilled, he was only one man.

Meanwhile, people were dispersing in dozens of different directions.

His eyes darted back and forth incessantly.

If his target was among them, this was his best chance to find them.

Yet Park Chan-woo was the one person who didn’t cross his mind at all.

‘He didn’t single me out, I see.’

Park Chan-woo turned away.

Slowly. Casually.

Walking with his usual, unhurried pace.

This was his first encounter with Han Shin since his return.

The monster—the first human to reach level 99.

Han Shin had reached level 99 three years earlier than the next person.

Of course, that was only what was ‘officially’ known.

Realistically speaking, he may have reached it even earlier.

With his astounding growth, he had become a hero and a symbol of hope for humanity.

Facing Han Shin now, Park Chan-woo felt tense.

He knew that Han Shin would be obsessively searching for whoever stole his arrangements and killed the Water God.

With his skills, it wasn’t an impossible task.

‘Mind’s Eye.’

A skill that allowed him to see everything about a person.

Thanks to this skill, Han Shin could uncover every detail, so much so that people said he could ‘see one’s status window’.

Standing before him always felt like being stripped bare.

Yet just moments ago, Han Shin’s gaze had passed over him without recognition.

‘His skill level must be too low to see everything.’

Every skill had a rank.

No skill started at full power.

Even a skill that could arouse the envy of the gods required leveling to increase its rank.

Otherwise, its effectiveness, range, or efficiency remained limited.

At most, Han Shin likely only saw his base stats.

And as soon as he saw Park Chan-woo’s stats, he dismissed him entirely.

‘You still despise the weak, don’t you, Han Shin?’

It was clear from his eyes.

That unique, disdainful gaze he cast upon the weak.

He had just given Park Chan-woo that look, as if he were nothing more than a feeble, pitiable human.

Without his usual mask, it was even more apparent.

With that, everything was confirmed.

‘Three things learned.’

First, the Creator contracted with Han Shin was not one of the ‘Nine Supreme Monarchs’ but rather the ‘Lord of the Moon, Ahata’.

Second, even Ahata couldn’t detect his ‘Non-Existence’. If he had, he would have warned Han Shin somehow.

Third, Han Shin truly knew nothing. He didn’t suspect, even in the slightest, that Park Chan-woo had stolen the ‘Ten Thousand Blood Life Elixir’ and killed the Water God.

‘As much as I’d love to kill him right now…’

He almost scowled, seeing Han Shin’s face.

The urge to kill him was genuine.

But Ahata was behind him.

If Han Shin were killed, Ahata would surely seek revenge.

‘Ahata is one of the most troublesome Creators.’

Cruelty and viciousness were only the basics.

He toyed with his enemies mercilessly.

He would trample on their honor, mock them, and put them through suffering worse than death.

And when they finally begged for mercy, he’d turn them into a ‘Lich’, binding them to his eternal service.

Of all the Creators, the most insidious was Ahata.

And it was this Ahata who had created an Avatar.

‘Han Shin. It seems he’s Ahata’s favorite.’

For now, killing Han Shin was not an option.

But that was alright.

All he needed was to grow stronger—strong enough that Han Shin couldn’t even touch him.

If he amassed power to the point where he didn’t have to worry about Han Shin, or if he could bankrupt Ahata through the ‘Abyss of the Night’…

That day would be Han Shin’s funeral.

Park Chan-woo checked his remaining ‘buff time’ and smiled.

His initial goal had been to defeat the Water God in the Water God Abyss.

But now that he’d killed it, his goal had changed—something greater, something more ambitious.

‘Clear every dungeon in South Korea.’

 

* * *

 

At the time the Water God Abyss was cleared,

South Korea had reached a total score of 2,200 points.

“Isn’t this totally doable?”

“Yeah, we’ve only been at it for one day, right?”

“It’s easier than we thought!”

On the fourth day since the Abyss began, the panic that had gripped people due to the sudden appearance of dungeons began to ease for the first time.

If they could score just 2,800 more points over the next three days, South Korea would be safe.

With the strongest individuals leading the charge, many believed that this goal could be easily achieved.

…Twenty-four hours later, people sensed that something was wrong.

“What’s going on? We’re still at only 2,700 points?”

“Another day’s gone by, and we’ve only gained 500 points?”

“What happened?”

The score barely budged. Even when it rose, it was only by a small amount.

Everyone had grown complacent, firmly believing that someone else would clear the dungeons, so no one took action.

Of course, there was another significant reason for the slowdown.

Those who should have led the charge had disappeared.

For instance, Yoo Han-seop of the ‘Dawn Fellowship.’

He, who had led by example and formed the first group, was now dead.

Many of the capable Avatars were also killed in the ‘Avatar War’ within the Water God Abyss, while the surviving Avatars refrained from taking the lead.

Most of all… Han Shin had remained silent.

…A society where no one stepped forward.

If no one challenged the dungeons, all that awaited South Korea was the ‘Siege Abyss’ sweeping across the entire country.

The 500 points gained that day were all due to the efforts of ‘Lee Hyuk-soo’ alone.

“It’s already the third day…”

“44 hours left.”

“Come on, people! Do something!”

People began blaming each other.

Everyone looked around, waiting for someone else to make a move.

Then, with 40 hours left, a new message appeared before everyone’s eyes.

 

 

The message seemed to taunt those hesitating, instilling both urgency and fear.

In the end, the first to respond was the military.

A large contingent of soldiers took the lead in dungeon clearing.

 

 

But it wasn’t enough.

Reaching 5,000 points within the remaining time seemed increasingly unlikely.

Clearing a dungeon wasn’t something that could be achieved simply by throwing more people at it.

What good were bullets against monsters that were immune to conventional weapons?

Monsters in the Abyss could only be killed using weapons obtained from within the Abyss itself.

 

 

As time passed, progress slowed even further.

Those who had been pushing themselves since the beginning were growing tired.

“Ah…”

“What are you waiting for? Get in there! Go in!”

“If things stay like this, we’re all dead!”

People’s anxiety grew more desperate.

“All talk, huh? If you’re so eager, why don’t you go in yourself?”

“If even the soldiers failed, what chance do us civilians have?”

As the tone of demands grew harsher, resistance began to rise.

Arguments broke out, both in real life and online, with clashes resembling the outbreak of a war.

Meanwhile, at that moment—

‘…I can’t move anymore.’

Inside a dungeon, Lee Hyuk-soo struggled to stand on his exhausted legs.

He had been tirelessly going through dungeons, fighting without a single break for three days straight, driven by the sole determination to protect his mother.

But even Lee Hyuk-soo, being human, had his limits.

Without rest, his body had reached its breaking point.

He had single-handedly scored over 800 points, but going further was impossible.

Just as he managed to stand up, he collapsed to the ground again.

His legs had given out, leaving him unable to move.

Lee Hyuk-soo bit his lip.

He was now level 11.

Even after his first awakening, which had broken through the level cap, clearing dungeons for more than three days without sleep was no small feat.

‘Is this the end?’

Huuuu.

As he let out a long sigh—

Ding!