Retire 372

372 Group Project (1)

“It was a C-rank dungeon.”

Fortunately, Alain Richard only panicked at first—he calmed down quickly.

Maybe it was because Kim Chaemin was there. Not just anyone, but an archmage. There must have been a certain faith that, at the very least, his life would be safe…

Well, it wasn’t just Richard. Other mages began to gather quietly around Kim Chaemin.

“It wasn’t a particularly dangerous dungeon, but still…”

The sirens were blaring, and something bizarre was swelling in the distance, but the chaos wasn’t as bad as I’d feared.

Marseille is a city where mages often pass through. But now, with the Grand Conference about to begin? There were far more mages in town than usual. Anyone aware of this would likely believe the mages would handle things.

Above all, there hadn’t been any immediate monster attacks after the dungeon broke. And while tourists might not know, Marseille’s citizens would be aware that the nearby dungeon wasn’t high-ranked. Actually, tourists might have checked more thoroughly.

Not that people were just sitting there finishing their meals or sipping their coffee. Just that it wasn’t the worst-case scenario.

Police were evacuating people. There were screams, and the sound of children crying.

But in the midst of it all, Kim Chaemin and I didn’t move. The mages gathering around us created an odd, almost out-of-place calm in the chaos.

“What kind of monsters are inside?”

“They’re, uh, mostly classified as fungi…”

Richard answered, still sounding uncertain.

I couldn’t blame him. Dungeon information isn’t made public. Neither is the location. But once a dungeon break happens, all those restrictions are meaningless.

Maybe Richard realized that too, because his voice grew stronger as he explained. He kept glancing at Kim Chaemin rather than me, clearly putting his faith in the archmage. Kim Chaemin was staring at the swelling black mass with a grave expression.

“They don’t move unless you provoke them… That’s why clearing it wasn’t a high priority.”

“It’s that close to the city?”

Well, when even the S-rank dungeon off the coast was being put off, who would worry about a C-rank?

“Richard, have you ever been inside that dungeon?”

“Huh? No, I haven’t…”

When Kim Chaemin asked, Richard startled and answered quickly.

She folded her arms.

“Do you know if it was that big inside the dungeon?”

“I… I don’t think so. I heard it was small.”

“How small?”

“About the size of a grown man’s fist.”

“How did it attack?”

“It would cover its target… and suffocate them. But I heard it wasn’t very strong. If it was, it wouldn’t have been ranked C.”

“No toxins?”

“No.”

Kim Chaemin looked back at the black mass.

Fungal monsters are usually weak to fire. If it came to it, we could try burning it… No, lighting a fire outside the dungeon would be too risky. I’d just made a good impression in Toulon—I couldn’t risk being branded an arsonist.

I glanced at Kim Chaemin. It would be easier to assess up close, but if Richard’s account was accurate, there wasn’t much I could do. But maybe a mage could do more?

“Good thing the weather’s clear.”

Kim Chaemin, apparently finished thinking, exhaled lightly.

“Huh?”

“I’m glad it’s not raining.”

A faint aura of magic spread around her.

“Whatever that thing is, it’s photosynthesizing.”

And then she said something completely unexpected.

A word that should never have come out.

“It’s really growing fast.”

But coming from a druid, an archmage who knew more about plants than anyone, it couldn’t be ignored.

“If it were humid, this wouldn’t be the end of it.”

Gulp.

Richard swallowed hard.

Humans are creatures who want confirmation, even when they already know. Richard followed Kim Chaemin’s gaze. The black pillar, which had been surging upward, now seemed to have stopped.

“What if… it hadn’t ended here?”

“Well, the whole city might have been swallowed. You’d all be dead before you could do anything.”

Then Kim Chaemin smiled as if nothing had happened and looked at the mages gathered around.

“Of course, that’s only if you’re not skilled. Anyone here think they could survive?”

No one raised their hand.

Well, even if someone wanted to, anyone with sense wouldn’t.

But whenever you have more than ten people, there’s always at least one without sense.

One nameless mage raised a hand.

“So, you’re saying it’s fine because it’s not raining, Archmage?”

---

“Then I guess there’s nothing to worry about. I came all the way to the Grand Conference for this kind of hassle… Victor, let’s go back to the hotel.”

“What?”

“Good thing we didn’t book a place in Marseille. Tsk, if it was going to break, it should have waited until after the conference.”

It was truly astonishing.

For the first time, I understood Noah Michel, who created the Ark. If you’d grown up among people like this, you’d probably hate humanity, too.

Maybe Noah Michel had been trying to purify European mage society. If that were the case, I’d have cheered her on.

I wanted to believe it was just one rotten apple, but judging by the mood, that wasn’t so.

“…Ahem.”

“Ahem, ahem.”

Their loud, fake coughs made it clear they knew they were in the wrong, but didn’t want to admit it.

“…Ha.”

Kim Chaemin’s expression was openly incredulous.

The nameless mage didn’t back down.

“There are plenty of guilds in Marseille. Isn’t this their job?”

“……”

“That’s what those people are hired for.”

Well, strictly speaking, not every Awakened is obligated to kill monsters or clear dungeons.

Just because you’re stronger or can do what others can’t doesn’t mean you’re fearless. In the end, you’re still human. It’s a human job.

I didn’t blame them. Aptitude has a huge impact on what job you choose—especially when lives are at stake. Even if you have great power, you might hate fighting, or faint at the sight of blood… There are many reasons. Forcing someone who can’t handle it into battle only causes more trouble.

It’s like my sister once said: a Hunter needs to know not just what they’re good at, but what they can’t do. You have to know your own limits.

That’s why Awakened registration and Hunter licenses are separate. Not everyone who awakens becomes a Hunter.

And fighting unknown monsters at the risk of your life is a brutal business, as history proves. After much trial and error, most countries now offer Hunters all kinds of benefits—tax exemptions on dungeon plants, monster byproducts, magic stones, and so on.

Guilds that protect cities get all sorts of perks, too. That’s common in countries with low population density, or in places like Russia or the US, where the government can’t respond in real time.

And those benefits…

“…Shouldn’t that apply to mages, too?”

“Why should it?”

“Why? Why do you think?”

There was a chill in Kim Chaemin’s voice. Her usually calm magic crackled with electricity.

“Because mages agreed to protect citizens from dungeons and monsters in exchange for society tolerating their existence?”

“I never agreed to that.”

“Then why are you a mage?”

“Well…”

“If you don’t want the responsibility, you should have given up magic.”

“Why should I be bound by a contract my ancestors made…”

“If you didn’t want to be bound by it, you should have given up magic.”

Kim Chaemin glared at the mage.

“You’re attending the conference? If I don’t recognize your face, you can’t be that notable. But if I check the roster, I’ll know exactly which family you’re from.”

“…No need to go that far.”

I pointed at Richard, who was shrinking in his seat.

“What family is that mage from?”

“Oh, right! Richard, you know, right?”

“Uh, well…”

The mage tried to answer, but Kim Chaemin was faster. Just as she’d once bound Hope, vines wrapped the mage up tight, covering even his mouth.

Unable to withstand the archmage’s murderous aura, Richard clenched his fists and spoke.

“Adrian of the Virel family. Romanian.”

“Mmmpf!”

“Virel? Never heard of them. Don’t worry, I’ll use every means at my disposal to make sure you’re finished. If you don’t want to be a mage, it’s the archmage’s job to help. Don’t worry.”

“Mmmpf!!!”

“Don’t worry, I said.”

Kim Chaemin spoke gently to the struggling mage.

As she said, mages receive all sorts of benefits in exchange for helping deal with dungeons. In Korea, mages and Awakened are treated about the same.

I looked at Adrian Virel, unable to understand. His supposed friend had already abandoned him. So much for friendship.

Even twenty years from now, European mages were stiff and didn’t listen, but they weren’t this bad. The ones I’d met were older… but maybe those old men were just these idiots grown up?

What happened in between?

Or are there only a few like this? If so, there’s some hope. Even if they’re promising enough to attend the conference, if they’re a minority…

But probably not.

I wanted to tear my hair out, but held back for dignity’s sake. The end of the world, twenty years from now, begins with dungeon breaks across the globe. I can only really make a difference in Korea. But with Hong Seok-young’s name, maybe I could have some influence abroad, which is why I came to Europe to check the mood and see Michel…

The hope I’d felt in Toulon had completely evaporated.

It was hard to believe I’d even hoped for the level of mages from twenty years in the future.

Clap!

Looking equally troubled, Kim Chaemin hid her feelings well and clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“All right, who else doesn’t want to be a mage?”

Of course, no one raised their hand.

Kim Chaemin smiled in satisfaction.

“Very good. Now, let’s all say our attributes.”

Her voice was as sweet as a kindergarten teacher’s.

“A-attributes?”

“You’re really going to introduce yourselves in this situation? Just say your attribute, quickly.”

But her ice-cold eyes made sure there was no misunderstanding.

Kim Chaemin smiled brightly again.

“We’re going to go defeat that nasty monster over there now!”