Chapter 92

Chapter 92
## Chapter 92: A Game of Secrets in the Crystal Grove

—

After we filtered out the combatants who were too injured to continue and those who had lost their nerve, our numbers were whittled down to exactly 300.

It felt as though we were preparing to rush into a meat grinder wearing nothing but our skin, clutching only a basic spear and a wooden buckler.

Regardless, our departure date for the Jaun Valley Erosion Core was locked in: tomorrow. And our final feast? Premium sirloin.

This wasn’t just standard local beef. The finest cuts from global ranches inevitably find their way to Korea first. Portions that are impossible to source in other countries, no matter your wealth, are readily available at our neighborhood butcher shops.

Most of the veteran cattle ranchers who used to operate domestically have moved their operations abroad. We ignited the charcoal pits and set to work searing the thick slabs of meat.

“I honestly can’t fathom the hunters who tucked tail. It’s not like they didn’t know what they were signing up for.”

Han Sang-ah’s expression was one of pure bewilderment. She couldn’t wrap her mind around people traveling this far, taking a few hits from spirits, and then abandoning the mission.

“Expectations rarely survive contact with reality.”

You see it all the time with those ‘hell-fire’ spicy pork challenges or those ‘eat-it-all-and-it’s-free’ restaurant dares. People dive in thinking, “I’ve got a stomach of steel,” only to retreat five minutes later saying, “Forget it, I’m done.” There are too many examples to even count.

“Did anyone sneak off without settling their bill?”

I made an ambiguous face at Jeong Oh-hoon’s inquiry.

“A handful claimed they’d settle the breach-of-contract penalty later since they were short on liquid assets.”

In round numbers, 60% settled up immediately, while the other 40% hammered out payment plans.

Jeong Oh-hoon popped a charred piece of steak into his mouth and chewed.

“If any of them try to ghost you on those payments, give me a shout. I know some specialists who are absolute geniuses at debt recovery.”

“You mean collectors?”

He gave a sharp nod, crossed his legs comfortably, and continued his meal.

“They operate on that razor-thin line between legal and ‘don’t ask.’ But they are masters of their craft; you can rely on them. As long as there isn’t a literal body involved, they’ll extract every cent owed.”

That was a comforting thought. The dinner proceeded in near-silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic popping of the embers.

“So, 150 of our people will clear the approach and stand guard against ambushes, right?”

I nodded in response to Han Sang-ah. In truth, the strike team entering the Erosion Core would consist of the three of us, Adakawa Nanami, and 100 subordinates. The remaining 50 would maintain our hold on Harbin.

“Is there no way to pack in a few more bodies?”

I snagged another piece of meat with my chopsticks as I answered Jeong Oh-hoon.

“The fact that there’s no official entry limit might actually mean that adding more people won’t help us.”

Having dismantled several Erosion Cores at this point, I had developed an intuition for their logic. Bratsk’s fridge restricted entry for a specific mechanical reason.

The inverse logic usually holds true.

If the Jaun Valley Erosion Core didn’t bar a large crowd, it was because the crowd didn’t provide an advantage. It suggested the core’s gimmick didn’t care about the size of the raiding party. Besides, 100 hunters is hardly a small force.

“I’m already getting anxious.”

“The dread is always worse before the first blow is struck.”

Once the fighting starts, there isn’t a spare second for worrying.

“Don’t waste energy inventing catastrophes. That kind of mental gymnastics never helps.”

It’s best to leave the mysteries alone until you’re face-to-face with them. You act once the variables are confirmed.

“Anyway, we have an early start, so let’s get some sleep.”

—

The following morning, a total of 250 hunters—us included—made our way toward the ski resort I’d identified as the epicenter.

— That resort sits right against the lake. Almost certainly…

It would be buried under a wall of fog. Standard sulfur willow filters or basic elemental resistances wouldn’t be enough to keep us conscious.

“100 is a manageable number.”

I couldn’t possibly coat all 250 hunters with Paradox Flame gas masks. But the 100 who were actually accompanying us into the belly of the beast? That I could handle.

The other 150 would clear the path so the core team could save their mana, then they’d retreat immediately to Harbin. Staying too long would just trigger the hallucinations again. At the very least, the ritual circle powering those visions required a significant window to prime itself.

“Are you certain? Keeping black flames on 100 heads means you’ll be drained for offensive spells.”

I offered Adakawa Nanami a confident smile, as if the burden were trivial.

“Just remember: once we’re inside, the long-range comms are dead.”

That was common knowledge. No operator guidance is available once you cross the threshold of an Erosion Core.

“At least we have the short-range radios.”

Internal communication between hunters would still function. We had assigned specific call signs and worked hard to ensure we wouldn’t be stepping on each other’s frequencies.

“Plus, these aren’t amateurs.”

This wasn’t a group of greenhorns. Most of them had navigated radio-dark zones in other cores before. They wouldn’t fumble the tech.

The assault team waited on the fringes of Changchun. After roughly three hours, the signal crackled through our earpieces.

**⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙**
The corridor to the objective ski resort has been secured.
Move now. Maximum speed.

**⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙**
However, the mist is too dense; the vanguard could not reach the resort itself. They cannot verify if the Erosion Core is present.

“Don’t lose sleep over that.”

It was there. It had to be. I could forgive the others for their skepticism, but my own certainty was absolute.

Jeong Oh-hoon and Han Sang-ah looked at me for confirmation.

“Come on, have a little faith. I haven’t steered you wrong yet.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Han Sang-ah conceded, just as Jeong Oh-hoon let out a low whistle.

“I’m just along for the ride. This is my first real contract with you, after all.”

“Fair enough. Let’s prove it to you this time.”

I cut the talk and signaled the group.

“Everyone, move out!”

At last, it was time to dive into the gray soup. I hadn’t expected clearing a Rank-1 Erosion Core to demand this much preparation. Between Harbin, the legions of the dead, the mental illusions, and the toxic purple mist—we’d climbed a mountain to get here. Thinking back, the fridge in Bratsk had required a similar level of grueling effort.

I shuddered to think what the Great Eight would eventually require.

We had to sprint, hit the resort, and breach the Core immediately so the support team could retreat to safety. 100 hunters, with me at the prow, broke into a dead run. The sound of our boots hitting the ground was like a stampede of a hundred stallions.

“Ignore the stragglers! Keep your pace!”

A few lingering spirits tried to intercept our charge. The vanguard had wiped out most, but a few shadows remained.

“We’re moving so fast the friction’s drying the sweat off us!”

The momentum didn’t slacken. We tore through the landscape toward the resort, reaching it in less than half an hour. At hunter speeds augmented by mana, we were faster than any vehicle.

“I told you it was right here, you idiots!”

Across the surface of the lake, through the heavy, swirling fog, the shimmering outline of the Erosion Core was visible. Jeong Oh-hoon let out a boisterous laugh at my exclamation.

“Give me a hand!”

Promptly, Adakawa Nanami channeled her vibrant pink mana. A massive sphere of energy materialized above her, venting a blast of white frost toward the water. The lake’s surface flash-froze into a solid bridge, creating a direct path to the Core sitting in the center.

Fortunately, we wouldn’t have to swim. The mist rising from that water suggested the lake itself was a basin of liquid lethality.

“Phew.”

Adakawa Nanami took a moment to steady her breathing after the massive expenditure of power. The surrounding hunters watched in hushed reverence.

I stepped onto the frozen surface, skating toward the entrance, and shouted back,

“Don’t just stand there staring at it, move!”

Did they think looking at it would make it go away? The hunters shook off their shock and raced across the ice toward the maw. I reached the edge of the void and keyed my radio.

“Yoo Chan-seok, entering now!”

**⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙**
Good luck.

The radio check held firm even as I crossed the threshold. I threw myself into the black abyss.

The darkness was absolute for a heartbeat, then the world exploded into a riot of color.

“…”

Leaves made of emerald, petals of ruby, peridot, and golden topaz. A heavy, sweet perfume filled the air, while a waterfall in the distance spilled water that shifted through the entire rainbow spectrum.

Rainbows were woven into the very atmosphere; the sky was a massive mosaic of shifting squares, each one cycling through a kaleidoscope of blinding colors. The ground beneath me was a fine sand composed of a thousand different gems. Every footfall produced the delicate chime of silver bells. Nearby, hummingbirds with amber-geared clockwork on their backs buzzed through the air.

“Deceptive.”

Beneath the overwhelming beauty lay a viscous, clinging malice. I pulled a scrap of leftover steak from my pack and tossed it onto a flower carved from gems. The meat turned pitch black the moment it touched a leaf, melting into a foul sludge.

“Everything here is saturated with lethal toxins…”

The overlapping rainbows and the shifting sky were designed to shatter one’s depth perception. The constant chirping of the mechanical birds was a subtle assault on the ears, and the musical sand was a slow drain on the mind.

The heavy fragrance hitting my nose was the source of the purple fog—designed to overload the sense of smell instantly. And within the glittering, jeweled bushes? I caught the fleeting reflection of eyes filled with ancient grudges.

This Core was an infinite, manufactured paradise made of stone and glass. And it was hostile.

I reached for my radio to report my observations. At that moment, a bird landed in front of me, using its beak to scratch letters into the sand.

**🪶 PLAYFUL CHALLENGE 🪶**
[Let’s start with a game of hide and seek! 100 of you are real, 200 are fakes. Spot all the imposters, then we can play.] [No cheating by looking at faces! That’s forbidden!] [The fakes look just like you. Though they’re a bit clumsy, of course.] [Everyone—real or fake—looks identical when you look at them directly. Height, voice… it’s all the same!] [Oh, and I gave all the fakes those cute little radio toys too! Want to show me yours later?] [Wait… you’re the special one, the only exception.]

I glared at the message.

“Dammit. I should have come in with just the three of us.”

This was a masquerade. It would have been a cakewalk with just a small team.

We had to separate the wheat from the chaff. But we couldn’t trust our eyes or our ears.

As if to prove the point, my radio suddenly erupted into a cacophony of panicked, overlapping voices.