Chapter 58
In a back alley of a bustling district, inside a quiet room of a traditional Korean tavern with floor seating, Shin Chaeyoung stared at the side dishes placed next to a bottle of soju.
On a large plate, steam rose from bossam (boiled pork wraps) and aged kimchi. Next to it was another plate tinged gray. Looking closer, it was densely sliced pieces of grayish meat.
“Hmmm.”
Shin Chaeyoung wrinkled her nose at the large plate emitting an indescribably pungent smell and pointed at it.
“What is this?”
At that moment, Moomyeong leapt down from Cheonma’s shoulder and said,
“This is hongeo samhap. This is one of the city’s top restaurants, with 1,300 reviews excluding those suspected to be viral marketing…”
Ignoring Moomyeong’s long-winded explanation, Shin Chaeyoung asked,
“Is this an expensive dish?”
“Yes. Two servings of Heuksando hongeo samhap cost 100,000 won—about as much as fourteen standard meals.”
Shin Chaeyoung stared at Moomyeong’s round, pale face before picking up her chopsticks. With a serious expression, she combined a bit of aged kimchi, bossam, and hongeo, took a deep breath, and put it in her mouth.
“Ugh.”
As soon as she chewed, her expression looked like she had been struck in the nose. The increasingly dazed look in her eyes made it clear that this was her first time tasting hongeo.
“Ugh.”
Frowning but determined, Shin Chaeyoung wrapped another piece of hongeo and ate it. Seeing this, Moomyeong spoke in a soft voice:
“Not to your taste?”
“Yes.”
“Is that so? Would you like to order something else?”
“No, it’s a waste.”
She answered indifferently and refilled her empty glass with soju.
“Hmm.”
Cheonma watched Shin Chaeyoung struggle through the hongeo samhap, and his gaze turned strange.
By the time he had conquered the martial arts world, Cheonma had met countless people—monks who had left the secular world, ascetic sages who transcended life and death, and even a young female prosecutor with extraordinary beauty who had achieved the Way of the Mindlessness.
‘Ah, that’s why she looks familiar… She looks exactly like the little girl from Geomgak.’
The young Geomgakju, who had devoted herself solely to swordsmanship on a remote island untouched by the secular world, had an ethereal, mist-like appearance. Shin Chaeyoung looked like her twin.
“Ugh.”
Shin Chaeyoung gulped the soju after finishing the hongeo samhap. Her gaze, initially fixed on the glass, soon shifted to Cheonma’s red eyes.
“Why do you break the law?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Why don’t you register as an awakened one when entering a dungeon?”
“None of your business.”
“I need to know.”
Under the dim yellow light of the tavern, shadows deepened around Shin Chaeyoung’s eyes.
“I came here today because of that.”
The phrase ‘today’ irritated him—it sounded like a threat that she would come multiple times.
Cheonma sat like a statue, arms crossed, puzzled.
There was no curiosity in her eyes. Why was she prying into something she didn’t even care about?
“What a strange girl,” Cheonma thought, feeling a slight curiosity about her.
“Why ask about something you’re not curious about?” he asked.
“Because our team is breaking the law because of you.”
Shin Chaeyoung’s eyes were like a frozen lake in a harsh winter wind.
Normally, Cheonma would never tolerate such a gaze, but for some reason, he felt a rare patience toward this small, scrappy girl.
“Our team knows you enter dungeons secretly and we turn a blind eye.”
“Is that so?”
“Is it true?”
“What nonsense is that?”
Cheonma’s expression didn’t change at all. Shin Chaeyoung continued:
“The reason you enter dungeons unregistered—is it true that it’s to perform secret good deeds?”
“That’s a misconception.”
“I do not enter dungeons for such reasons,” Cheonma replied immediately.
“Then why do you enter dungeons?”
“None of your business.”
The conversation went nowhere.
With a sharp gaze, Shin Chaeyoung spoke again:
“Not long ago, I saw someone like you in a dungeon. Wearing a mask, secretly entering and healing people.”
Ah, the ‘one good deed per day’ person, Cheonma thought, narrowing his eyes.
Shin Chaeyoung continued:
“For the first time in my life, I let that lawbreaker go. Just like my teammates treat you.”
Filling her glass with soju again, she whispered:
“Lawbreakers are just lawbreakers. They should be punished for breaking the law.”
Her eyes, lowered, were full of confusion. Cheonma, arms crossed, said calmly:
“Breaking the law means punishment… But why is that?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Shin Chaeyoung muttered in despair, slowly drinking soju:
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
Cheonma picked up the soju bottle, drank in one gulp, and, with chopsticks, ate the remaining hongeo, bossam, and kimchi.
“What a waste of time.”
Rising, Cheonma lifted Moomyeong onto his shoulder and said flatly:
“Don’t come looking for me again.”
As Cheonma opened the door to leave, Shin Chaeyoung muttered into the empty air:
“I haven’t gotten an answer yet.”
“Not worth answering.”
Cheonma glared at her with disdain:
“You weren’t following the Way of the Mindlessness—you were just absent-minded. Or maybe you want to live carelessly and need an excuse.”
“What did you say?”
“You seem to think the law measures right and wrong.”
“That’s the wrong comparison. The law is not about right or wrong—it must be followed. Without law, the world would fall into chaos.”
“Hahaha!”
Cheonma laughed and then spoke solemnly:
“Who makes the law? Is the righteous path good and the evil path bad? Who can define right and wrong?”
“That’s nonsense. Anyone can judge right from wrong.”
“That’s wrong. Humans cannot judge right and wrong.”
Cheonma stared solemnly at Shin Chaeyoung:
“What is good, what is evil? When the martial arts leader Jeong Cheon kills a villain, it’s justice; when I kill a righteous person, I’m cruel.”
Born in the worst conditions, reaching the highest level, living the path of dominance, Cheonma knew life-and-death crossroads. To him, right and wrong were meaningless words.
“What are you trying to say?”
“That right and wrong don’t truly exist. Humans only judge according to their beliefs.”
Not entirely wrong. Cha Hong, Han Manjae, Yoo Eunho… they were righteous, yet they let Cheonma’s illegal acts slide, simply because they believed it was the right path.
“People like you prevent human progress. Following rules blindly, living constrained by life and death, like insignificant chess pieces.”
Cheonma scoffed, turning away:
“Don’t force your laws on me. I don’t care about law.”
“Then… what are you? Good or evil?”
“Neither.”
Cheonma turned his head slightly as he left:
“I only walk my own path.”
With that, he slowly walked outside. Shin Chaeyoung watched his retreating figure, puzzled:
“What is with that middle-school-level delusion? Weird person, as expected…”
With his strange, convoluted words, Cheonma disappeared. She realized his worldview was completely unlike ordinary people’s. Or rather, unlike anyone else’s.
“You shouldn’t mess with someone insane.”
Even the law doesn’t punish a madman. If he maintains his bizarre worldview without harming others, one should actually be grateful.
Sigh.
Shin Chaeyoung exhaled deeply and slowly left the tavern.
“Um, excuse me!”
A middle-aged woman wearing an apron rushed over, holding something out—it was the bill.
“You left without paying.”
“…”
Cheonma, having left in a fury, had forgotten to pay.
“Definitely insane.”
Even Shin Chaeyoung, usually calm, felt a ripple of frustration.
At the Special Response Team villa, which also served as their operations room, a loud silver pickup truck screeched to a stop. Twice the size of Han Manjae’s pickup, it was a monster truck.
Yoo Eunho, relaxing on a camping chair in the villa’s front yard, spotted Cho Hong inside and ran over.
“Team leader, what’s that truck?”
“Don’t you know? It’s a dungeon monster truck, the M903.”
The so-called G903 is made with special paint and materials so it can operate safely even in dungeons that reject modern technology.
“Do you think I don’t know what it is? Wait… could it be?”
Cho Hong, stepping out of the truck, shrugged:
“Exactly. We go to the dungeon outskirts a lot lately, so I got one. Can’t always run around on foot.”
Yoo Eunho, caressing the silvery truck, asked:
“How did you afford it? Lottery win?”
“No, it’s secondhand.”
“Even secondhand… how much is this?”
Dungeon gear is expensive, be it nanobots, suits, or weapons. A secondhand motorcycle for dungeon use can cost as much as a mid-size car.
“Ahem.”
Cho Hong winked:
“I bought it with the relic we got from the Ice Golem. It was incredibly valuable.”
“Wow. Our team leader is really bold. Did you… pocket it?”
“Don’t be silly. The Association recognized it as acquired lost property, and I got 30% of its value.”
“Well, who cares? The important thing is we have a team car.”
Yoo Eunho smiled, touching the hood:
“Being part of the Association is great. With this, we can enter dungeons without worrying about tolls.”
Even with a dedicated vehicle, dungeon travel costs are high. That’s why even wealthy awakened ones bring porters.
At that moment, Shin Chaeyoung, working on a computer inside, came out after hearing the noise.
“What’s going on?”
Seeing her, Yoo Eunho called out:
“Chaeyoung! Look, a dungeon truck—our team’s own.”
Cho Hong smiled and said:
“Chaeyoung, try driving it.”
“Huh?”
“Remember when you hurt your leg during the Gigant Pep incident?”
Though Shin Chaeyoung could heal others, she couldn’t easily heal herself. Cho Hong seemed to remember this.
“I’m fine now.”
“Still, try it. You like resting at the dungeon rest stops, right?”
Shin Chaeyoung’s only hobby was enjoying coffee at dungeon rest stops. Knowing this, Cho Hong smiled and handed her the keys:
“Take it for a test drive.”
