Chapter 63
The Calm Before the Storm (2)
4.
According to Deputy Chief Choi, failure in a raid would result in a truly horrific receipt.
If the raid fails, every player of Korean nationality receives an absurd penalty — and, as if that weren’t enough, one of Korea’s Abyss Gates is randomly destroyed.
And when that happens, monsters from the Abyss pour out from it.
The consequences that follow are catastrophic.
The nation’s credit rating plummets, triggering a cascade of economic and social effects.
The climax, of course, is the destruction of an Abyss Gate.
The ironic part? These gates are located right in the heart of major cities.
And that’s not even all.
A new Abyss Gate spawns somewhere at random, and everyone living nearby is caught in the blast — and dies.
In short, a “raid failure” is far worse than I’d ever imagined.
…And yet, despite the gravity of the situation—
“We believe our guild should take point! The Reaper Guild holds the top Korean record in several 3rd-floor dungeons—our coordination is—”
“How about assigning the vanguard to the Maru Guild? Physically speaking, we’re the best by far.”
“Hah? You even got a single record to back that up?”
“Watch your mouth, punk. How old are you?”
“Old enough to teach you manners. Wanna test it?”
Why the hell are they turning this into a circus in front of me?
I let out a deep sigh as the raid members before me nearly came to blows.
We were currently on the 3rd floor of the Abyss, The Tricolored Plains —
the same field where the Korea–Japan match had taken place.
In two days, this would be the site of our raid.
I looked down at the phone in my hand.
Even though things here were chaos, what was public opinion saying?
[Title: We’re screwed…]
Content: There’s a wild stallion in the tank line, a wounded tiger in melee DPS, and a calm lion waiting in ranged. And they’ve even got a safari trainer to keep them in line. If they just sync up, there’s no way they’ll lose lol.
↳ Who’s the safari trainer?
↳ Obviously Meteor lol he’s the raid leader.
↳ Stop joking around. If we fail, the whole country goes down.
↳ Don’t be so serious lmao. No way we can’t clear 3F. It’s basically free EXP for our rising stars.
↳ Didn’t you hear? The US just announced they’re lending equipment for this raid.
↳ Yeah, with US gear, Japan’s aces, and Meteor? Losing would be weird.
↳ But seriously, where does Meteor rank among 3F players globally?
↳ Megod is No. 1 overall, not just 3F. Don’t question it.
↳ Locust squad incoming. Run!
Yeah. It’s a party out there.
People were calling it a “massive EXP boost event” and telling each other to relax and sleep well.
Even the news was hyping it up this morning.
<The national benefits awaiting Korea after a successful 3F Raid!>
<Major corporations express interest in raid loot.>
<Companies announce planned sales events if raid succeeds.>
<Experts say: “Korea’s 3F players have immense potential, especially with the gear support—failure is impossible.”>
The overconfidence was nauseating.
Am I the only one who remembers Korea’s four consecutive losses to Japan?
And what “potential” are they talking about, exactly?
“We should start with magic first!”
“Magic? You trying to blow up our own team? Stay on standby!”
“You’ve got a bow and you’re talking back?”
Yeah, no potential here.
Most of them were from different guilds and had zero intention of working together.
In short—
“This raid team’s doomed.”
“Right? Can we even clear this, Seongwoo-hyung?”
“We’ll figure it out somehow.”
Teamwork?
What teamwork?
All they cared about was personal contribution — and the bigger reward that came with it.
I turned to Inseob, my tone dry.
“Don’t you have a broadcast today? Why are you even here?”
“I was gonna film the joint training, but screw that. This would just cause a scandal.”
“You at least get why they’re fighting?”
“Yeah. Same everywhere. Raid loot’s insanely rare — expensive, powerful, you name it. And since rewards scale with contribution—well, everyone’s desperate.”
He explained that contribution scores were based on various factors:
damage dealt, damage blocked, healing, support, and so on.
Basically, it was just like a game.
Except here, the betting chip wasn’t money or time — it was your life.
Failure in the Abyss meant serious injury if you were lucky.
Death if you weren’t.
“Tomorrow the raid details go public.”
“Right.”
The bastards managing this place were sadists — they only revealed raid info one day before it began.
And even then, it was just a vague description of the boss.
No time to plan strategy, no room to prepare.
Still, better than nothing, I guess.
But don’t worry.
I already had a “perfect plan.”
“Meteor, Sa—master!”
While I was chatting with Inseob, Kurogane Tatsuya approached, with Shiomi Yui beside him.
Tatsuya bowed his head and spoke rapidly in Japanese.
Yui translated, holding a dagger against her shoulder.
“He’s asking if you have any specific orders for him.”
“Hmm.”
Among the 25 raid members, besides me, he was easily the strongest.
Kurogane Tatsuya — his swordsmanship during the Korea–Japan match had impressed even me.
“You’re on free roll. Do whatever you want. You’re strong enough — I won’t interfere.”
Yui instantly translated.
Tatsuya dropped to his knees and shouted in clumsy Korean:
“Choi Seoneul! I do my best! Arigato!”
“And what about our other members?”
“Handle them well. Okay? Handle well.”
“Ah, I see.”
“That’s our raid strategy. Spread the word.”
“…No tactics or anything?”
I just chuckled and pointed toward our chaotic players.
Yui nodded as if she understood.
“So—‘prioritize tactical flexibility among players,’ right?”
“Nice phrasing.”
“Then we’ll go work on our coordination!”
Thank god there was at least one Japanese who spoke Korean.
Yui dragged the kneeling Tatsuya away, and Inseob muttered:
“That guy’s basically your cult follower.”
“How did it come to that?”
“Anyway, what’s our real strategy, hyung?”
“I told you. Handle it. Well.”
“…So basically no strategy.”
“No strategy is a strategy.”
With this level of dysfunction, no plan would fix anything overnight.
It was every man for himself now.
“This is why I hate leadership roles.”
Originally, I just wanted to sneak into the raid and watch quietly from the back.
How did I end up leading this mess?
I muttered to myself, and Inseob patted my back.
“It’ll work out. Let’s just wait for the info drop tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“No training today?”
“Got something in mind. Hey, Peanut?”
Squeak?
When I called his name, the little guy digging in the dirt popped his head up.
Cute thing. He’s gonna make a sinkhole one of these days.
“Go big and attack them a bit.”
『You sure that’s okay?』
“Someone’s gotta establish authority. Just don’t kill anyone.”
『Got it!』
Team bonding through recreation, right?
“Alright, everyone! Time for a team-building exercise!”
The squabbling players turned toward me.
I smiled brightly.
“We’re playing tag. If Peanut catches you, you die. Understood?”
Before they could even process what I said, Giant Peanut activated.
SQUEEEEK!
It tried to sound threatening — but mostly sounded adorable.
Except for the fact that it was the size of a tank.
And then, the tank-sized hamster began charging across the field.
“W-wait—huh?”
“Why’s it coming this way?”
“What the hell is that?!”
A few players froze in shock.
Their future?
BOOOOM!
“Gahhhk!”
“Kyaaaa!”
They were launched skyward by Peanut’s merciless headbutts, drooling midair.
Panic spread like wildfire.
“Let’s have some fun, shall we?”
SQUEEEEK!
Let the team bonding begin.
5.
While Meteor led his “recreation session,” two figures watched from afar — one man, one woman.
“What are they even doing? And what’s with that giant hamster?”
“According to the system, it’s classified as an earth spirit.”
“Cute, though. Are preparations for the raid complete?”
“All summoning contracts are finalized. Once we summon it, the raid event will trigger immediately. However… headquarters sent a warning this morning.”
“What kind of warning?”
“They said we’re using too much karma. If this raid fails, the Korean branch will be held accountable. Meteor’s accumulated karma on 3F isn’t that high.”
Karma was the measure accumulated whenever a country’s players caused excessive damage to the Abyss’s system.
The Korean branch chief frowned at the report.
“So he hasn’t caused enough chaos yet?”
“He’s still in the early 3F quests.”
“Doesn’t matter. As long as we finish the job, there’ll be no repercussions. No restriction from the Akashic Record either, right?”
“Strangely enough, no.”
“Then proceed.”
The 3F raid—
The players below might be full of hope and greed,
but the reality was far more grim.
This Korean 3F raid would be brutally difficult.
The branch chief smiled at Meteor’s image on the monitor.
“What’s our calculated clear rate?”
“About 17%. That’s assuming Meteor performs at his usual peak.”
“Did you factor in other participants?”
“Three potential wildcards — Japan’s Kurogane Tatsuya and Shiomi Yui, Korea’s Han Yunseong. The rest aren’t worth noting.”
“If these promising kids die here, their nations will be in chaos.”
Satisfied, the woman nodded.
Her subordinate cautiously added:
“My concern is Meteor himself.”
“Why?”
“As you know, we can’t interfere with his interface — or even fully observe it.”
“Because of the World Soul?”
“Yes. We can see the basics, but anything influenced by the World Soul is off-limits.”
The chief tapped her desk in thought, then dismissed the concern.
“Even if he stands out individually, one person can’t overturn the raid.”
The 3F raid was designed to be despair incarnate.
No matter how skilled Meteor was, there was a limit to what a single player could do.
“We’ve already stretched the rules to their limit.”
Even Abyss administrators couldn’t arbitrarily increase difficulty —
the “Scales” that governed balance applied to them too.
To make the raid harder, they’d had to heap enormous rewards on the other side:
bonus EXP, rare items, legendary drops.
“This raid’s basically 5th-floor level.”
At 5F difficulty, even veteran parties lost half their members.
There was no way 3F players could clear it.
Still, she didn’t care.
As long as they won, that was all that mattered.
Failure wasn’t an option worth considering.
“Go ahead and post the notice.”
“Now? We could wait until tomorrow.”
“No. I want to see their faces when they lose hope. Watching them despair is the best part.”
Her subordinate silently nodded and typed in the announcement.
Moments later, a message appeared before every Korean player’s eyes.
[Notice regarding the 3F Raid]
[A distortion has occurred within the raid.]
[Raid difficulty has been recalibrated.]
[Difficulty: A → S Rank]
[“Knights of Twilight” will participate in this raid. Good luck, players.]
The dice had been cast.
