Chapter 18: Episode 18

I arranged to meet Bora the next day and immediately began my preparations. First, I went to a nearby wholesale market and bought several hundred bundles of thin, vest-like garments that could be easily worn over other clothes. They were cheap, about a dollar apiece. I piled them in the lobby and got to work.

A second-order spell is created by combining two first-order spells. For incantations, each additional circle lengthens the chant. For magic circles, each order adds another concentric circle, or ’field.’ Most high-level magic circles consist of several smaller circles within a larger one; these are all second-order or higher.

But first-order + first-order = second-order doesn’t mean the difficulty merely doubles. Magic is like a complex ecosystem; with each added circle, the difficulty of construction increases exponentially, not additively. Fortunately, my battle with Baphomet had given me an intuitive understanding of the second-order system, so the concept was easy to grasp. The hard part, as always, was mastery. No matter how much I practiced, I couldn’t achieve the same efficiency as I had with first-order spells like Mana Arrow, Gauntlet, and Shield.

In the end, bone-grinding practice is the only answer.

I placed my palm on the back of a white vest and began to draw. The main component was the Rune of Heat Resistance. Inside it, I drew a smaller circle and inscribed the Rune of Duration. The formula was more complex, requiring two magic circles to be applied simultaneously, but I managed it by referencing ’The Fundamentals of Magic’. After a few rounds of trial and error, a notification appeared.

[You have combined two magic circles for the first time.]

[Magic Power has increased by 2.]

[Intelligence has increased by 1.]

[Heat Resistance Magic Circle – Duration]

Magic Circle Value: C

Order: Second-order

Classification: Continuous

Special Effect: Heat Resistance

Understanding: 11

Sustainability: 180

Operability: 7

Output 5:

I worked through the night, finally finishing the 200th vest. My speed had increased as my proficiency grew, allowing me to complete a third of my quota. Six hundred in one night was impossible. I decided I’d have to make the rest on-site and finally allowed myself a few hours of exhausted sleep.

* * *

The next morning, I took an early intercity bus to Yeoju. The dungeon entrance was near a quiet riverside ferry landing, but the area was anything but peaceful. The parking lot was overflowing, and the entrance was swarming with people. And above all…

“Hey, young man! Need some armor?”

“Come take a look at my gear! All made from genuine monster hide!”

“Get your dungeon essentials here!”

The path was lined with an incredible number of street vendors. The sharp, spicy smell of grilled chicken skewers filled the air. From street food to high-end equipment, they had everything.

’This feels less like a dungeon and more like a festival.’

This strange spectacle of a bustling market springing up around a dungeon gate had become a common sight all over South Korea. I tried to avoid the pushy vendors’ eyes and hurried through the crowd.

We were supposed to meet near the public restroom.

I sent Bora a message asking for her location. She replied that she was almost there, accompanied by an emoji of a cartoon animal sprinting. I found a nearby rock to sit on and wait.

’Vroooooom!’

A sleek black BMW navigated the narrow road and pulled into the parking lot. A young man hopped out of the driver’s seat. He looked barely older than me, yet he was driving an expensive import. My interest piqued, I watched as he opened the passenger door, and a familiar face emerged.

’What is she doing getting out of that car?’

It was none other than Jin Bora. She gave the driver a sweet smile and a word of thanks before they both went to the trunk and began unloading a surprising amount of luggage.

“Thanks for the ride!” she chirped.

“No problem, it was on my way,” the driver said. “Be careful in there.”

“You drive safe, too!”

’Vroooooom!’

The BMW drove off. Bora waved until it was out of sight, then her bright expression vanished. She turned away and muttered under her breath, “Making such a big deal out of a used piece of junk.”

“You’re here.”

“Gah!” She jumped, spinning around. “Y-You scared me, sir!”

“Did you sweet-talk another guy into giving you a ride?”

“Sweet-talk!” she shrieked, her face flushing.

I let out a small sigh. “It’s not my place to say anything, but you might get yourself in serious trouble one day if you keep this up.”

“Hoho! Don’t worry,” she said with a dismissive wave. “I know where to draw the line.”

’That’s what’s called ’playing the field,’ young lady.’

“Anyway, I’ve got everything ready like I promised!”

My gaze fell upon her mountain of supplies. There was a promotional banner, a portable tent, a bundle of balloons, and even one of those dancing, inflatable tube men.

“…Are you heading to a promotional event or something?”

“It’s cute, right?” she said, holding the deflated tube man next to her face with a sheepish grin. “If we’re going to do this, we might as well be thorough.”

“That’s all well and good, but how are you going to inflate that thing?”

“Well,” she said, batting her eyelashes, “I was hoping ’you’ would.”

I stared at her, saying nothing.

“Come on, let’s go!”

We gathered our ridiculous amount of gear and headed toward the dungeon entrance. The area was cordoned off, with armed hunters, police, and Association staff managing the flow of players. A woman in an Association uniform waved her arm, shouting over the din.

“We will begin entry in five minutes!”

’Did we come to an amusement park?’ This was a far cry from the tense, thrilling dungeon I had imagined. Then again, this was probably normal for a field dungeon with low-rank monsters. I’d have to tackle high-rank dungeons to experience the scenes I dreamed of: crowds of reporters, military helicopters thundering overhead, and grim-faced guild members clasping hands, vowing, -We have to make it out alive again!

Considering my current growth rate, that future wasn’t as far off as it seemed.

“You may now enter!” the staffer announced.

Bora and I got in line to wait.

A massive rift appeared in the sky, and the dungeon’s entrance gaped within it like a black hole. Even the people who had been joking around moments before grew tense at the sight. After a short wait, it was our turn.

“Entry permits, please,” a staff member from the Hunter Association requested.

We presented our academy student IDs. Players who weren’t yet professional hunters had to carry a provisional license to hunt monsters, and our student IDs served as an acceptable substitute.

“Ah, academy students. You’re confirmed.”

After a few more simple procedures, we followed the group ahead of us through the dungeon’s black portal.

’Wooooosh!’

The moment we stepped through, our surroundings transformed. A wave of humid heat washed over me, thick enough to taste. The ground was a pitted, black rock, and murky yellow rivers snaked across the landscape. The air was thick with the stench of sulfur, sharp and acrid like rotten eggs.

’So this is the Lava Cave,’ I thought.

An itch to fight surfaced immediately, but I had to remind myself I wasn’t here to hunt today. ’Once we hit our sales goal, I can hunt for a bit with the time we have left,’ I reasoned.

“Well then, shall we get started?” Bora asked, her voice bright.

“Yeah.”

First, we unfolded a portable tent and secured it firmly to the ground, then hung a banner across the top. I had no idea where she’d managed to get it printed, but it boldly declared, ‘Heat-Resistant Gear 30% OFF!’

“…A thirty percent discount?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Hehe, it doesn’t have to be a ’real’ discount,” she chirped. “Putting numbers up like that just catches the eye! Simply saying ‘Selling Heat-Resistant Gear!’ is so boring, don’t you think?”

Hearing her logic, I had to admit she had a point. We set up the rest of our banners around the tent and stacked the heat-resistant clothes I’d enchanted onto a table.

“We are absolutely not using an inflatable tube man,” I stated firmly.

“Why not? That’s the highlight!”

“It’s too distracting.”

“But it’s guaranteed to grab their attention!”

“We’ll get plenty of attention without one,” I countered. “We’re the only people selling merchandise inside a dungeon.”

As if on cue, a few of the hunters who had just entered were already glancing our way with curiosity. We hurried to finish our setup.

“I’ll be right back!” Bora called out. “Just going to adjust the banner in the back.”

“Alright.”

With Bora gone, I was left alone at the tent. People entering the dungeon murmured as they passed, their eyes drawn to our strange little stall. ’Wow, I actually have to do this…’ It was more embarrassing than I’d anticipated. I had absolutely zero experience in sales. What was I even supposed to say? ’Selling gear? Want to buy some gear?’ This wasn’t some street market. ’Come take a look?’ How did those vendors I saw earlier do it?

“What are you selling here?”

Just then, a small group approached, their interest piqued. I forced the calmest smile I could manage. “We’re selling gear that protects you from the heat of the Lava Cave.”

“What, like cold packs or something?” one of them asked.

“Not exactly. They’re items.”

These days, the word ‘item’ was practically synonymous with ‘an object from another world.’ The man’s party member appeared from behind him and added, “There’s no way a simple cold pack would cost fifty dollars. It has to be an item.”

“What are the specific effects?” another inquired.

It seemed I had successfully captured their interest.

“It completely blocks you from the heat of the Lava Cave for two hours.”

A buzz of conversation rippled through the small crowd.

They began discussing the item among themselves, their positive reaction entirely expected. The most challenging aspect of the Lava Cave was, without a doubt, the oppressive heat. According to online reviews, just ten minutes of hunting left you drenched in sweat. After thirty minutes, your stamina and condition would start to plummet, forcing you to stop.

Anyone who pushed themselves for a full hour would likely collapse. Still, the hunting here was efficient. If you could negate the heat, paying fifty dollars was a small price for the entry ticket and potential profit from magic stones. And since I was turning a piece of cloth that cost a dollar into fifty dollars, it was a massive win for me.

“Excuse me,” a man with narrow, slanted eyes said as he stepped forward. “Is this stuff legit?”

“…Pardon?”

“An item that blocks heat for two hours? I’ve never heard of anything like it.”

The person beside him picked up one of the shirts from the table, his expression skeptical. “It is a little strange. This is supposed to block heat? It just looks like a plain white t-shirt.”

“Can you guarantee it lasts for exactly two hours? What monster byproduct was it made from?”

Doubt began to cloud their faces. ’Damn, this is a problem,’ I thought. I was confident in the quality, but they were questioning its credibility. I had chosen to sell inside the dungeon specifically to avoid this, but it seemed that wasn’t enough. My mind scrambled for a solution. I could offer a money-back guarantee or give a few away for free to generate word-of-mouth. What was the best move?

“Is something wrong?”

Bora, having noticed the commotion, came jogging back. As I explained the situation, a faint smile played on her lips.

“Of course there’s a guarantee,” she announced smoothly.

“…And what might that be?” the man with the slanted eyes pressed.

“We’re from the Korea Hunter Academy Student Council.”

She confidently held up her academy ID, and the man flinched. A murmur went through the crowd as all eyes turned to Bora.

“She means ’the’ academy, right? The one the Association President founded herself?”

“I applied there and got rejected.”

“And they’re from the student council…”

Bora beamed, launching into a flawless, silver-tongued explanation. “Actually, a prototype developed by one of the academy’s research societies is about to be released! All internal testing is complete, and now we, the student council, have come to the dungeon ourselves to conduct a market test and gauge consumer response.”

’That little brat,’ I thought, amused. ’Using the school’s name when she’s part of the student council…’ Still, it was undeniably effective. I could feel the crowd’s trust in us skyrocket at the mention of the Korea Hunter Academy.

“Yeah, I guess if they were scammers, they wouldn’t have bothered coming all the way into a dungeon to sell their stuff.”

“So the effect is guaranteed?”

“Of course! This product is backed by the academy!” Bora declared, shooting me a quick wink. “A special price of just fifty dollars! Have a comfortable hunt in the heat dungeon today! We’re practically selling at a loss compared to the research costs!”

Several people were immediately sold.

“I’ll take four.”

I handed over the shirts and received a stack of bills totaling two hundred dollars. I felt a little dazed. So this was what it felt like to actually earn money.

“There’s a limited stock of two hundred! Yes! Thank you!”

Our business took off. Bora took the lead on sales while I handled the money. Her talent for it was remarkable. Her presence alone was enough to draw a crowd. With a sweet voice, easy eye contact, and an air of cheerful reliability, she was using every trick in her arsenal to reel in customers.

The market’s reaction was split. Some bought immediately, trusting the academy’s reputation. Others hesitated, wanting to see proof of its effectiveness. Their indecision, however, was short-lived.

“Is this the place? I heard they were selling heat-resistant gear at the entrance!”

“Hey, students! How many of those do you have left?”

Word spread like wildfire. As tales of people hunting in comfort with my enchanted gear circulated, even hunters already deep in the field flocked back to our stall. In an instant, we sold a hundred pieces. A profit of five thousand dollars, with practically zero material cost, landed right in my pocket.

“We’re back for more!”

“How did a couple of students make something like this?”

“We’re coming back tomorrow, so let’s stock up.”

Those who had tried the gear were so satisfied that they returned to buy out our remaining stock. It was unbelievable. A temporary magic circle, etched onto a scrap of fabric with a bit of my mana, was selling for fifty dollars. Was this what they called a creative economy?

“This is no time to stand around!” Bora exclaimed.

“Huh?”

“I’ll handle the money. You make more! Hurry!”

This magic business was a gold mine.

* * *

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep