LTTH C1

Chapter 1

01. Another dimension?

If today’s Republic of Korea were to be defined, it would quite literally be a world from a novel—no, the novel itself. It has been roughly thirty years since gates and hunters, which once existed only in imagination, first appeared.

The world changed abruptly, but it adapted just as quickly. Gates and monsters that were once unfamiliar became everyday occurrences, and naturally it became a world that treated hunters with high regard. And among such hunters were awakened individuals called nobles.

Healers.

Those who awakened as healers, rightly deserving special treatment, became the new byword for striking it rich. However, regrettably, Hansol’s name was not on that list of winners.

“Goodness. You worked hard again today! We lived thanks to Hansol.”

“No, not at all. I didn’t really do anything.”

It wasn’t empty talk; it was the truth.

All Hansol had done here today was at most two heals.

“Here, today’s pay.”

“…Thank you.”

The envelope passed to him by rough hands was thin. It’s gone down again from last time. Even as he thought that to himself, Hansol returned a calm smile. A person who could not voice complaints despite pay decreasing by the day. That was precisely where Hansol stood now.

“…300,000 won.”

It’s 100,000 won less than last time.

If other healers saw it, they would probably snort, saying, “Hah, all this over a mere 100,000 won?” but to Hansol, that 100,000 won was desperate money. Even so, he could not complain to Jeong-ssi, the man he had just parted from.

Eternal level 1, heal slave, fake noble, and so on. Because he was the only one who would still put Hansol in a party despite all the nicknames that dogged him.

Besides, complaining would only get him kicked out. Of course, one day he would be kicked out. But that day could not be today.

Hang on doggedly. For as long as it’s possible to hang on.

Wiping away the blood spatters here and there, Hansol turned his steps toward the Association building. Gates from which monsters emerged. There was always an Association building next to fixed gates that would not close.

They handled many tasks like tallying spoils, raid reservations, and party recruitment, but there was something even more important.

“I’d like to get purified.”

“Sure, over there.”

The receptionist, who didn’t even glance his way, nodded while typing. With a slight bow of his head at the familiar scene, he changed direction, and by the glass windows he saw several chairs and others in the same situation perched on them, unable to hide their fatigue.

“Next.”

When a voice came from the room opposite, those waiting began to disappear one by one. Shortly after, as his turn approached quickly, Hansol rose and stepped inside. Behind the desk sat a woman with a prickly air, wearing a pure white coat and silver-rimmed glasses.

“Chae Hansol-ssi? Please sit here, purification, right?”

“Yes.”

“…Level 5. Your levels are near the limit. It would be better if you came a bit sooner next time.”

“Ah, yes.”

The woman, who tossed out the words as a passing courtesy, raised her hand. The bracelet at her wrist jingled, and soon a blue light wrapped around his body. He felt the sensation of the remaining bloodstains, miasma, and heaviness lifting away.

Disinfection, or purification.

It was one of the skills healers possessed and one of the Hunter Association’s main sources of income. Of course, it was a skill unrelated to Hansol. Purification could be learned at level 10.

A mere wave of the hand for 200,000 won.

Watching the blue light swirl around him, Hansol muttered inwardly. He didn’t know how much of that fee went to the healer before him, but it would be far more than the 300,000 won he earned scrambling through a gate. This was why healers were called nobles. Even without entering gates, there was more than enough work for them in the real world.

“You’re all set. Please pay at reception on your way out.”

“…Yes, thank you.”

With the woman’s businesslike response, Hansol rose. A place he could never reach. The seat the woman occupied was such a place. In roughly five years of grinding it out in this field, Hansol had come to understand at least that for certain.

“Payment, please.”

“Could you scan your hunter ID here?”

His body was neatly purified, but his weary mind remained unchanged. That was the ironic effect of purification. In a slight daze, Hansol watched the white light read his hunter ID. That was when something caught his eye.

[Recruiting applicants for an other-dimension dispatch mission; annual pay 300 million won (1-year contract); signing bonus paid upon contract execution]

A digital billboard that usually displayed advertisements like guild promos or party recruitment. On any other day, he would have passed it by without a second thought, but today, the words “300 million a year” seized his attention.

If it’s 300 million…

“Is that for real?”

“Sorry? Ah… yes, it’s real, but…”

The staffer who received the question trailed off, unable to hide her reluctant expression. He didn’t bother to ask what would come next. It was obvious. With his face schooled into shameless calm, Hansol continued casually.

“Is there any restriction on applying?”

“No, there aren’t any particular restrictions, but…”

Was she swallowing the words that he wouldn’t make the cut? Hearing the woman’s hesitant tone, Hansol hardened his expression and spoke firmly.

“I’ll apply.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“…You might not come back.”

She put it indirectly, but the meaning was clear. It was another way of saying, “You could die—how about just living here instead?” Of course, Hansol’s answer was predetermined.

“No. I’ll apply.”

“…Once registered, you can’t withdraw, so please consider carefully.”

“Yes. I will.”

“…Understood. I’ll proceed. The compensation will be paid in a lump sum after one year, and if the mission is abandoned midway or in the event of death, it will not be paid. Also, in the event of unilateral termination, a penalty will be incurred, so please read the contract we’ve sent in detail.”

“Yes.”

“Please sign after confirming.”

After skimming the transmitted contract, he signed swiftly.

“…Confirmed.”

Her slightly sighing words faded away, and soon after, businesslike words followed.

“You’re registered. The signing bonus will be deposited into the registered account in one week, and in two weeks, please come to Building C of the Hunter Association. Other notices will be automatically sent to the device in your possession.”

“…Yes, thank you.”

He fully understood why they would pay a signing bonus of 150 million won and what disadvantages would ensue if he failed to show—without it even being said. The client was the Hunter Association.

“A level-1 healer—doesn’t he value his life?”

He heard the receptionist’s small murmur behind him. He wasn’t angry. It was something he heard all the time.

Still, if I want to earn money, I have to do it.

Yes, if he wanted to earn money, he had to. High risk, high return. That law held true, naturally, in the world of hunters.

…Of course, even so, there was no way he could have anticipated this situation.

“…Damn it.”

He had just stepped onto the dimensional transfer magic circle following an Association employee’s guidance on the notified date. As the dazzling swirls of light faded, what unfolded before his eyes was a battlefield. A bleak, utterly devastated wasteland of war.

From the corpses strewn all around and the heavy silence, it seemed to be just after the battle had ended. In that sense, at least, there was no immediate threat to his life, which was a relief. Even so, it didn’t change the fact that Hansol had dropped into a lonely foreign place as an outsider.

“Healer…?”

Voices of people with unfamiliar features rang in his ears, and a language that he should not have been able to understand naturally reached him in translation.

“It’s a necklace imbued with translation magic. Since it’s another dimension, they likely don’t use Korean, so it should help.”

It was probably an expensive artifact. Far beyond what his income could cover. And the fact that they would entrust him with such an artifact meant the Hunter Association had high expectations for this mission.

Get it together.

This was a mission from the Hunter Association itself. He neither intended nor dared to do it half-heartedly, and the weight of the necklace only stiffened his already tense body further.

“…A healer, you say? In this battlefield?”

“Holy—he’s real?”

Moments ago, there had been nothing but corpses on the ground, but now, as if zombies had come back to life, murmurs rose from here and there. He rolled his eyes to their limits, scanning in all directions, but unfortunately there was nowhere to hide.

Moreover, the gear Hansol wore was a basic healer set that looked visible even from a hundred meters away. Whoever designed it, the gleaming white equipment stole attention even in a crowd.

“Why is a healer here?”

“T-treatment first…!”

“…Will that work? Won’t he just run away again?”

“Is that what matters? We need to survive first!”

With attention converging in an instant, people like zombies began rushing in from all sides. A quick glance suggested there were at least several dozen. Naturally, there was no way Hansol, a mere level 1, could treat that many.

Total mana: 200. At most, ten heals would drain him dry. He probably couldn’t even treat half of those charging toward him. In that case, what would those who didn’t receive treatment do?

Five years as a hunter.

For Hansol, who had seen the depths of people many times, it wasn’t a difficult prediction. He bit his lip hard. It was a mission he had volunteered for, knowing the danger. If dying here or there amounted to the same, wouldn’t it be better to at least try something before dying?

All right, do it until it’s done.

Hansol tucked the pocket watch in his hand deep into his inner pocket and steadied his resolve. However they interpreted that action, one figure who had already reached his very nose crashed to his knees so hard it made a splat, pressing his forehead to the ground.