LTTH C43

Chapter 43

“This in itself is already quite astonishing.”

“Ah, but this is merely a scene of people living their lives.”

Though his tone was casual, Kassie could not conceal his pride as he surveyed the surroundings. They all seemed happy—Kassie included.

Those before them hardly appeared like souls grappling daily with war and survival.

“Honestly, compared to old Britain, it’s quite inconvenient, and there are many shortcomings. Yet, I think there are some improvements. And it’s better now with Hansol here.”

“How does it feel?” Kassie added, locking eyes with him. Before Hansol could respond to yet another migrant invitation, he turned gracefully and stepped away.

“Hansol, after Britain fell, after Britain’s time stopped, how long do you think the clothes and food lasted? What do you think happened to the buildings and debris torn by the monster invasions?”

Their time likely froze that day—eighteen years ago—the day when multiple gate breaks erupted simultaneously.

That day, not only Britain but gates worldwide suffered breaks. Britain just happened to have the most. Moreover, it ranked among the nations with few self-awakened hunters, many of whom were scouted abroad. It must have been even harder to resist gate breaks than in other countries.

In any case, if that was the day, then their time remained frozen for eighteen years. Even the landscape changes over a decade. Surely modern comforts had worn away entirely—from food to clothing—and likewise their dwellings.

Hansol gazed anew at the surrounding wooden buildings. They looked far from sturdy, yet somehow freshly built.

“They lasted less than a month. No one was prepared for disaster.”

“Of course, who truly lives preparing for apocalypse?” Kassie added softly, quickening his pace.

“Thus, many lives were lost early on. Probably more died from starvation or lack of treatment than by monster’s hands.”

Hansol’s tragic day of losing his family to the Great Catastrophe had occurred three years after Britain’s fall.

Unlike the gate breaks, concentrated heavily in Britain, the Great Catastrophe was worldwide, claiming many victims across lands—and among them, Hansol’s own family. Simply put, that was the scale.

Yet what if he had been a hunter then? If he were not merely nine years old?

Those countless suppositions revived alongside Kassie’s words.

“After losing so many, we discovered ‘that.’ Had it been found sooner, perhaps more lives might have been saved.”

“We wanted you to see it. Perhaps, having seen it, you might wish to stay.”

Kassie stopped before a building unusually fitted with an iron door. Seemingly a warehouse, but guarded by armed sentries, its atmosphere stood harsh and foreboding unlike the rest.

‘A place to store supplies.’

Such a place naturally warranted tight security; it would be essential for survival.

“Thank you for your efforts.”

“Not at all.”

Still puzzled by Kassie’s casual entrance—a simple greeting followed by him passing inside—Hansol could not hide his curiosity. Entry had been surprisingly easy.

Inside, the scene differed from expectations. A modest space held a faintly glowing slab floating midair, beneath which lay a dizzyingly complex magical circle—harmless, it seemed, given Kassie’s confident summons upon it.

“Hansol, come here.”

Would it be allowed? Approaching with caution, Hansol neared Kassie, when his system window flickered to life.

“A system upgrade is required.”

What?

“Hansol, place your hand here.”

The bothersome system alert barely registered before Kassie tugged Hansol’s wrist, placing his hand upon the floating slab. Hansol could not deny the immense force involved.

“Upgrading the system. Please wait a moment.”

“……?”

Strangely, a loading screen appeared before his eyes, reminiscent of a game.

What was this situation? Hansol looked to Kassie, who smiled wryly and nodded. But why?

Upgrade complete. Shop now available.

“A shop…?”

Had he truly entered a game? The uncharacteristic term made a chill rise within him.

Perhaps sensing Hansol’s dread, Kassie spoke excitedly.

“Hansol, say ‘shop open’.”

“Shop open.”

Unable to resist Kassie’s eager prompt, Hansol reluctantly uttered the words. A strange new system window appeared.

Welcome to the shop. Remaining points: 1,475,230.

“…Kassie. What is this?”

“Exactly what it seems. In this harsh world, it’s the only satisfaction hunters get from slaying monsters.”

Outside the glowing circle, Kassie gestured toward the air.

“Unlike reality, there is no place here to convert monster mana stones to cash, no grocery stores, or shopping. That window you see is essentially an online store—selling everything imaginable.”

Though his tone carried uncharacteristic emotion, the shop resembled indeed a shopping mall.

From neatly sorted categories to countless products, the scrolling list revealed outrageously priced items—but it was no less than a true marketplace.

In short, this was the system’s minimal courtesy—a lone kindness extended for Britain.

Hansol understood why Kassie proudly displayed it. It was indispensable to locals but also stocked many useful items for hunters.

Likely coveted items—skill books, potions. Prices vastly higher than ordinary groceries, yet not unreachable.

‘…Perhaps Britain was not forsaken by the system, but chosen?’

A premature yet rational suspicion. Still, it was absurd that such a shop should stand in place of time itself.

“These points… can only be earned by defeating monsters?”

“Hm, to my knowledge.”

So it was. Hansol’s gaze naturally fixed on the shop points. The sheer number looked large, yet whether it was high or low on average eluded him.

“By chance, how many points do most people have?”

“Varies greatly, I’m afraid… It’s difficult to say what to tell you as a standard. If you tell me how many you have, I might estimate if that is much or little.”

The glistening blue eyes and tossing red hair drew nearer, the playful smile impish. Was it appropriate for an adult male to be so bright?

“About a million, I suppose.”

Is that a lot? Without a benchmark, it was unknowable.

“A million? A hundred million?”

“My goodness, Hansol! A healer?”

“Yes. A healer.”

“No way does a healer accumulate so many points! Could it be you actually wield a sword like Isaac? No way, the build’s all wrong for combat… Perhaps a crafter…”

Such murmurs sounded so clearly that Hansol chose silence over reply.