Chick 227

227

Joorim snatched up the poster.

It was an absurd itinerary.

It included a city tour of the three major guilds, a dungeon exhibition that faithfully reproduced the Tower’s ecology, and, in one corner, an experience called “Sample the combat rations On Joorim ate in the dungeon!”

Why would anyone want such an experience? It was enough to give her chills.

She had, of course, heard that the PR team had received a proposal from the Korea Tourism Organization.

She had been the one to give her permission.

Joorim was generous—as long as things didn’t bother her personally.

She figured it was far better than having to dress up for photos or videos.

But if she’d known her daughter was going to go, she never would have agreed!

While Joorim shuddered at the thought, Groo made her intentions perfectly clear.

“I have to go.”

Joorim simply couldn’t understand.

“Why?”

“Because at every checkpoint along the way, you can collect a random set of four ‘On Joorim during the Tower Raid’ photo cards!”

Groo clenched her fist as if to say, “I have to get those.”

“Of course. Who could resist On-jjang photo cards from back in the day?”

Kazuki nodded in agreement, adding an exasperated remark.

Joorim, still completely unable to comprehend, asked,

“Why not just take a picture of me now?”

“Nope, can’t.”

“That’s right, it wouldn’t be a photo card.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not the same as the pictures from back then.”

“Totally different.”

“The old ones look cooler—more energetic.”

“Yeah, you’re not as energetic these days, On-jjang.”

Even this brief conversation left Joorim exhausted; she pressed her hands together in a pleading gesture and covered her mouth.

“Master, Groo really wants this one. Her eyes are shining and sparkling.”

“Hmm, I think this one is the best too.”

At last, the aliens were openly critiquing her photo cards right in front of her.

Joorim squeezed her eyes shut, feeling both dizzy and humiliated.

Things had come to this—she couldn’t just let them go.

If Groo was this determined now, who knew what she’d do in front of Joorim after getting those photo cards?

“If the two of you go together, you’ll draw attention, you know that? If people gather, you won’t be able to enjoy the experience—they’ll be asking for photos.”

Thanks to her recent TV appearances, Groo’s face had become widely recognized, and requests for pictures and autographs had increased dramatically.

Even Groo—the most sociable of the sociable—was starting to tire after being accosted by dozens of cameras everywhere she went, and now seemed to avoid crowded places.

So Joorim thought that scaring her a little might put her off—

But, contrary to her expectations, the aliens just chuckled slyly, “Hohohohoho.”

“…?”

Now what?

“We are fully prepared.”

As if to prove her point, Groo hopped down to the ground and pressed the antennae on her hat.

At once, her hair and eyes darkened, as if swathed in black ink.

“Tada! Black Groo!”

The child with black hair and eyes beamed and spun in a circle.

Apparently, there was a reason for the alien hat after all.

Joorim could not understand why she hadn’t chosen a more ordinary item.

But expecting aliens to share the mindset of a reasonable earthling was, in the end, impossible.

“Now we’re fine, right?”

“Of course~”

Joorim grit her teeth in frustration; there was simply no stopping them.

Thinking hard, she spoke quietly.

“If only the crafting types go… it could be dangerous…”

At this rather pathetic warning, Kazuki looked shocked.

Was she talking about going to some dangerous place—just because they were crafters?

[“This is why attacker types…”]

Kazuki was about to protest Joorim’s unfair words, but Groo curled one side of her mouth into a smile.

“It’s okay, Master.”

Groo pulled a hamster out of her bag.

The hamster quickly assumed human form, and Groo placed a green alien hat just like hers atop Bailach’s head.

“SSS.”

Groo announced triumphantly, pointing to Bailach.

Bailach, looking as indifferent as ever, only yawned.

“Now can we go?”

“That’s right?”

“You have nothing left to say, do you?”

“Nothing at all?”

Joorim bit her lip.

The aliens kept cackling without pause, and she could not find a single excuse to stop them.

“…”

She clicked her tongue, hurling the poster at Kazuki’s feet as if she didn’t want to look at it any longer.

“Take her and get out of my sight.”

“Permission granted! We’re launching!”

Kazuki lifted Groo to her shoulders again, and Groo stretched her arms wide, imitating an airplane.

“Whoosh—”

“Whoooooosh—rumblerumblerumble—”

The aliens noisily exited the guild master’s office.

“Haah…”

Maybe she could finally get some rest.

It hadn’t even taken that much time, yet Joorim was suddenly exhausted. She leaned back in her chair, pulled down her eye mask, and folded her arms.

“…”

Crossing her legs, she tapped her ankle and index finger restlessly, then furrowed her brow and muttered quietly.

“…shining and sparkling?”

What does that even mean? What makes it better than now?

Joorim put the eye mask away in a drawer, and, for some reason, began flipping through her old photo cards with wide, searching eyes.

---

As soon as they climbed to the upper deck of the two-story city tour bus, the headwind hit them.

Mephisto was perched on her head, saving her hat from being blown off, but the hat’s ears slapped against her cheeks.

“Groo’s ears are flapping.”

Groo whined, and Kazuki, laughing, gathered the ears and tied them in a ribbon under her chin.

“Heehee!”

The other passengers on the bus smiled with a mother’s warmth as they watched Groo and Kazuki’s affectionate exchange.

No one seemed to recognize them with their darkened hair and eyes.

‘Heh.’

Groo, pleased, let out a soft laugh and picked up the guidebook.

The bus made a loop around the three major guilds—including Orchestra—and Seoul’s main attractions, then headed for the ecological experience exhibition hall.

‘Tower Ecological Experience Exhibition!’

These days, even abandoned dungeons had found their uses.

Given the premium on space, pocket dimensions were more than enough to interest many wealthy investors.

So, not long after the bill to allow the use of abandoned mines passed, Doan Atrium, in collaboration with Orchestra, launched the first dungeon experience exhibition.

It became explosively popular after opening, receiving rave reviews, and the Korea Tourism Organization quickly packaged it as a tourist product.

The bus soon stopped at the gate.

Kazuki, holding Groo in her arms and Bailach by the hand, queued in front of the gate.

“There are so many people…”

Perhaps due to language barriers and cultural differences, On Joorim was more popular abroad than in Korea. As a result, the tour had become a huge hit—packed with foreign tourists and children who dreamed of becoming Hunters.

Inside the gate, they saw pillars from an old palace, perfectly recreating the first floor of the Tower.

“Hello, everyone. Welcome to the Dungeon Ecological Experience Exhibition. I’m your docent, Jo Hyeonyoung. We’ll now explore various parts of the Tower and learn about its history and ecology…”

‘So this is the Tower…’

Following the docent, Groo’s mouth hung open in awe.

Occasionally she’d seen documentaries recreating the Tower, but seeing a place made for firsthand experience was something else entirely.

Even though worn and moss-covered, the ornate patterns and delicate decorations attested to a flourishing civilization where the Tower once stood.

Bailach looked around, lost in his own thoughts, as Groo quietly whispered to him,

“Bailach, you weren’t in the Tower, were you?”

Bailach replied indifferently,

“If I’d been in the Tower, I’d be dead by now.”

Ah.

Had she asked something too obvious? The Tower had been cleared, so any monsters inside would have been killed.

Bailach didn’t seem bothered, but Groo, feeling awkward, rolled her eyes.

“But, hey, what exactly is the Tower?”

At this, Bailach seemed to recall something and responded with something like a sneer.

“It’s a test ground some lunatic built by capturing the emperor.”