Episode 24: Management Contract (1)
We arrived at the Adventurer Association President’s office in the Tower of Records.
“Would you like something to drink?”
Team Leader Lee Jung-yul asked.
We’d exchanged brief introductions on the way, so I knew her name.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Oh, okay.”
She sat down with a slightly awkward expression.
‘Don’t look at me like that. I’m not drinking something without knowing what it is.’
The vibe suggested they were wary of me but not hostile.
So, I cut to the chase without sugarcoating.
“Let’s go over the terms.”
“…Alright. I’ll be direct,”
President Jeon Myeong-il said, signaling Lee Jung-yul.
She handed me an envelope.
The document inside was titled ‘Adventurer Contract’.
“We want to recruit you, Mr. Oh Hyun-woo.”
Talk about moving fast.
But recruit?
The Adventurer Association is a government agency.
In other words, they’re asking me to become a public servant.
“I’m not sure about that.”
“To be precise, we’re offering to recruit you as an adventurer under South Korea’s banner. We’ll provide the maximum support allowed. The details are here…”
Jeon slid the contract toward me.
It outlined rewards for Tower clears and guide contributions, family safety guarantees, housing, pensions, tax exemptions, and various national benefits.
Not just for me but my family’s future too—pretty generous terms.
But one clause stuck out:
- Some activities may be subject to government oversight or restrictions.
That rubbed me the wrong way.
Sure, private agencies also monitor and restrict, but being under any faction’s thumb was the issue.
‘Would Hertia or Caligo quietly accept me working for this government?’
And does ‘Oh Hyun-woo’ want that?
Hah, no way.
Lucifer bows to no one.
The terms weren’t bad, but I’d stick to my original plan.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll pass.”
“What? Ahem, if it’s about money, we can negotiate. We can discuss additional benefits. If something’s lacking…”
“Working under the government feels a bit restrictive.”
“Oh…”
Jeon’s face fell.
“Have… other countries approached you?”
His question revealed his real concern.
Luckily for him, I had no plans to leave Korea.
Family aside, why would I?
‘Why leave this goldmine?’
All of Legend Seven’s infrastructure—Tower of Records, workshops, labyrinths—is here.
I’d thrive if I could act freely without scrutiny.
But no need to lay all my cards on the table.
“You’ve seen my SNS. Plenty of people want to meet me.”
“…I’m sure. If not us, how about a domestic agency? Tell us what you need, and we’ll ensure minimal interference…”
Bingo. That’s what I wanted to hear.
“Staying in Korea? Fine. But it’ll be a bit different from what you’re thinking.”
“Oh! Yes! Whatever you need!”
“First, restrict my personal info as much as possible.”
“Of course. We can provide escorts if you want.”
“I’d rather have safety guarantees for my family. I can protect myself, but covering those around me is tough.”
“Yes, we’ll secure housing around your residence and assign top-tier security. It’ll be in the contract. Anything else?”
Right now, I need ‘capital’ and ‘people’.
Staff to handle non-strategy tasks and funds to hire them.
My plan?
“I’m going to start a guild.”
“A guild…?”
Jeon paused, likely piecing together my intentions.
It’s simple.
I’d focus on Tower clears with full autonomy, while the guild supports me and shields me from external pressures.
The government ensures smooth operations, and I stay in Korea in return.
My clears alone make it a win-win for them.
Catching on, Jeon’s eyes gleamed.
“What do you need from us?”
“A sponsor to back my guild.”
Jeon and Lee whispered briefly, then nodded.
“Understood. We’ll compile a list of sponsors ASAP.”
“Thank you.”
“If we resolve this, will you stay in Korea?”
“If the terms are right.”
“We’ll prioritize sponsors who’ll fully support you.”
Jeon bowed deeply—a perfect 90 degrees, almost uncomfortably formal.
I waved it off, helping him up, and asked one last thing before leaving.
“One question.”
“Yes?”
“Who’s writing the official guides?”
Jeon avoided my gaze.
Lee just smiled awkwardly.
“…They’re not produced by the association.”
Their reaction told me everything.
‘As expected.’
The government’s guides worked but always felt lacking in critical details.
The culprits? Those who want to slow down other adventurers’ progress.
Likely ‘adventurer powerhouses’ who’ve cleared the Tower and now exploit weaker nations for profit.
Jeon’s reluctance to speak stemmed from fear of being labeled as profiting off lives.
“Got it. I have a guess who’s behind it. For now, update the domestic guides with mine.”
“Yes, we’ll revise them once verified. How do you want the sponsor recruitment handled?”
“Privately, please.”
“Confirmed. Shall we head down? We’ll escort you home.”
“No, I’ll go alone today.”
I exchanged farewells and left.
As the conversation ended, someone came to mind.
‘…A sponsor. Why do I keep thinking of that kid?’
A fleeting thought—the young man I met at the adventurer headquarters, crying over my strategies.
What was it… the youngest grandson of Taepyeong Group?
‘Nah, no way.’
I chuckled at the unlikely coincidence.
***
Son Tae-ha, the youngest grandson of Taepyeong Group and owner of the ‘Unidentified Adventurer Strategy Archive’, received an email from Jeon Myeong-il, president of the Tower of Records.
‘So, that super rookie is looking for a sponsor…’
As the CEO of Ascend Management, a newly established adventurer agency, Son Tae-ha was planning to recruit adventurers. This contact was perfectly timed.
“Hey, Son Tae-yeon. What’s your take?”
He posed the question to his sister, four years his senior and an adventurer with the Radiance Guild.
“On what?”
“That rookie.”
“Dunno. Doesn’t seem like a braggart, probably skilled.”
“What’s the chance he’s the author of those strategies?”
“You’re still obsessed with that guy?”
A Korean veteran from the early days of the Great Cataclysm, Son Tae-ha idolized the few strategies this figure had posted. Ignored back then, those in the know now recognized their accuracy.
“The strategies that rookie posted on SNS are different.”
“It’s just Floors 1 to 10. Too early to judge.”
“No, it’s enough. The precision, like they’ve run those floors thousands of times. You doubt Hyung-nim’s skill?”
“When did you meet him to call him Hyung-nim?”
“My gut says it’s him. I’m all in! I’ll recruit him. No, I’ll get recruited!”
Son Tae-yeon smirked.
“Good luck. But he’s looking for sponsors, not recruits. He’d probably want a heavyweight guild like ours, not your tiny startup.”
“You don’t get it. Rising stars like him recognize new blood like me.”
“How do you run a company with that brain…?”
She shook her head, clicking her tongue.
“I’d be better at it.”
“What? You eat something bad?”
“Who was the one chasing a cringe edgelord from a game in middle school?”
“I told you not to bring that up.”
Son Tae-ha shrank under her murderous glare.
“Sorry. Anyway, give me real advice! You see the all-in potential, right?”
“…He’s probably all-in everywhere. He showed and proved, didn’t he? That’s no ordinary record.”
“Right? I have to recruit him. Or get recruited.”
“Do what you want. I’m off to clear Floor 95.”
“Alright, take care. Don’t get hurt.”
“Thanks. Good luck with the sponsor bid.”
Son Tae-ha immediately submitted a sponsor application to Jeon Myeong-il.
‘Please! Please! Please take my hand! Or at least let me meet him!’
***
‘Wow, they sent it already?’
The Tower of Records worked fast.
Compiling a sponsor list in just two days?
‘Guess that’s how much impact I have.’
Oddly, all candidates were domestic companies, despite foreign firms knowing about me too.
‘They’re desperate to keep me in Korea.’
Cute tactic.
The documents detailed each sponsor’s terms—major Korean corporations, guilds, and agencies.
Tempting offers, but many clauses screamed ‘we want to lock you down’, like lengthy contract periods.
Their intent to milk me was clear.
‘Not bad. Their honesty’s refreshing.’
One outlier stood out: Ascend Management.
Their terms were absurdly unconventional.
‘Can a contract like this… even work?’
Ascend offered their entire agency—51% ownership and full operational control.
‘Did they send the wrong contract?’
After re-reading it multiple times, it still defied logic.
I searched for the agency’s head.
“Well, well.”
A familiar face popped up.
Among the usual 30s-to-50s agency heads, one youthful figure stood out.
Son Tae-ha.
Taepyeong Group’s youngest grandson.
Seeing his face confirmed it.
‘Never thought he’d actually apply.’
I called Jeon Myeong-il.
“President.”
- Yes!
“There’s someone from the list I’d like to meet.”
- Got it. Who should I contact?
“Ascend. Ascend Management.”
***
The Palace of Blood’s audience chamber.
Step, step.
In a blood-red tailcoat, with pale skin and crimson eyes, Karmar de Lavle, the true master and Varg’s creator, surveyed the chamber.
“Quiet.”
No sign of Varg, who should’ve greeted him.
Karmar felt uneasy, then flinched at a residue on the floor.
‘Varg is dead?’
Since the Palace’s creation, the true Varg had died only twice, including today.
The first was at the hands of an arrogant man—Lucifer.
Reviving Varg’s mangled body had taken ages.
“Interesting. Seems there’s a fascinating human in this dimension.”
Exploring the chamber, Karmar noticed an unidentified green liquid scattered on the floor.
Curious, he reached for it, but the liquid leaped as if alive.
He swatted it away, evaporating it with intense heat.
Only one person wielded such bizarre substances.
‘Caligo…! That madman was here? He’s not dead?’
Karmar gritted his teeth.
He’d planned a brief visit to check on Varg.
But plans changed.
‘If it was just a human, I’d let it slide. But if you’re involved, Caligo, it’s different… You’ll pay for touching my creation!’