Chapter 53

We couldn’t see each other’s faces, but the actual distance couldn’t have been that great. At most, it was probably within the radius of Im Haekyung’s skill.

The discomfort of having my mind forcibly controlled vanished quickly. That sensation only existed because I had the Mental Strength passive—everyone else would just follow Haekyung’s orders without even realizing something was off.

'He’s not planning to kill me, right?'

Controlling five people with five different commands was nothing to him. Just two votes for my death would’ve been enough to finish me. But, as expected, he played it safe: he voted death and survival on himself, the most stable, foolproof option.

And that, strangely, bothered me. Why was he moving exactly as predicted? In the original story, Im Haekyung was the guy who always blindsided Kwon Taehan’s expectations. The bastard constantly ignored the obvious choices in favor of the weirdest ones, earning readers’ curses in the comments. He showed up so often as a disruptive factor that by the later half of the novel, whenever anything bizarre happened, people would groan, “Isn’t it about time for Im Haekyung to show up?”

Was it just because my thought process was different from Taehan’s? Or was it simply because the version of Haekyung I knew hadn’t yet appeared in the original timeline?

Whatever the reason, what mattered now was that the quest had been cleared.

In the easiest way possible.

The Fifth Quest has been cleared!

Would you like to view the Sixth Quest?

Once viewed, the quest is automatically accepted.

The quest is revealed by unanimous consent.

Even after it ended, I still couldn’t see the others’ faces. I was just stuck in the same solitary space.

'Well, not like we can exchange opinions right now anyway. Ridiculous.'

The sixth quest would probably be harder—I’d need time to think it through...

Mental Domination (S) is activated.

“View quest.”

I was speechless. Sure, he brought me here to use like this, but wasn’t this obedience getting a little excessive?

The quest is revealed by unanimous consent.

The tension had drained out of me, so I faced the next quest with bland detachment. Nothing I could do of my own will anyway—just another puppet show for Haekyung.

Sixth Quest.

Do you agree that the weight of all lives is equal?

The strongest companion will die, and the survivors’ ranks will be adjusted upward.

Majority agreement required for quest to proceed.

Abstention not permitted.

Failure Penalty: All abstainers die.

Time limit: 60 minutes.

'Hm?'

A new one. I hadn’t seen this in the original. Well, I never expected to know every quest. So this meant if Haekyung died, our stats would be boosted?

...Tempting.

Mental Domination (S) is activated.

“Disagree.”

Yeah, saw that coming. In less than a second, the quest ended.

The Sixth Quest has been cleared!

'Of course. Can’t kill the puppet master right after using us like that.'

And apparently that had been the condition to lift the isolation, because suddenly I was back in the original space.

I gathered my bearings. Haekyung stood there unharmed, the two Infinite Guild members were sprawled on the floor, and Yehyun was looking at me with open relief.

“We were separated, but it wasn’t too hard. Everyone agreed, so it worked out.”

Haekyung gave a bright smile, looking around as if seeking our approval. One of the Infinite Guild members glanced at him and nodded instinctively.

If I said I hadn’t been tempted, that’d be a lie. But in truth, using his skill to force it through was the optimal outcome. Neither Yehyun nor I would have chosen to kill him anyway.

Good deeds deserve compliments. I leaned close so only Haekyung would hear.

“Being mind-controlled felt so good.”

“......”

Even with my earnest praise, his reaction wasn’t great. He just gave me a faint, reluctant smile.

Still, there was something off about that quest that nagged at me.

'That was blatantly aimed at Haekyung.'

Quest-type Gates didn’t have consistent mana signatures—their difficulty levels varied wildly. Unlike normal dungeons, where the boss rank generally matched the gate rank, quest dungeons could throw A-rank challenges even inside a labeled B-rank gate.

Or worse, irregular quests where everyone was equally dragged to the brink of death.

That’s why, despite this gate being measured as B-rank, no one had dared to enter recklessly.

But even then, I’d never heard of a quest so openly tailored to take out a high-rank hunter.

'Maybe I should just chalk it up to the novel not covering everything...'

It also didn’t quite fit the “moral tests” common in quest dungeons. Another thing to file away.

Would you like to view the Seventh Quest?

Once viewed, the quest is automatically accepted.

Two acceptances registered. Quest revealed.

“Shall we open the next one?”

“Yes, let’s.”

For now, ignorance was safer than overthinking.

The moment we accepted, the space began to shift. The indistinct, borderless room warped, the floor and walls twisting to shove us out.

No one panicked this time. Having been tossed around once already, they waited quietly for the transformation to settle.

At last, when the shifting stopped, we found ourselves dumped in a dim corridor.

“This can’t be...”

Someone muttered. Before finding the voice, I tested my vision.

'It’s so dark even the quest window isn’t visible? Great.'

I stretched out a hand, felt around for a silhouette, and brushed against someone’s shoulder.

“Ugh! Wh-who’s that?!”

“Me.”

One of the Infinite Guild idiots. I recalled his status window from before we’d been dragged here and asked:

“Do you have any light-type skills?”

I was sure he had one. His reply came stammering with fear.

“Y-yeah, but it’s useless.”

“Try it anyway. We’ll decide after.”

“It’s... really not worth—”

He hesitated, then suddenly shot a burst of light from his hand. It soared upward like a flare, briefly lighting everything before fading out.

“......”

“......”

Truly an honest bastard—not even empty promises. Even an E-rank hunter should’ve had something half-useful, but this? Pure trash. Or maybe it wasn’t his main skill.

Still, the flare showed us there were no nearby obstacles, and it hinted at a door further down.

But apparently silence scared him, because he immediately tried again.

“Uh, I can do this too.”

Another flare rose and fizzled, leaving fireworks-like trails in the air.

...What the hell was that supposed to accomplish? Ignoring him, I pulled out my phone and switched on the flashlight.

“Save that for the beach.”

“......”

At least my phone actually illuminated things. Battery drain was a concern, but still better than useless fireworks. I brushed past him, ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ light in hand, and checked the others’ faces.

“Let’s go.”

I led the way toward the door, the rest falling in behind me.

Judging from the echo of our footsteps, the corridor was pretty wide.

“What do you think’ll happen when we open it?”

“Who knows. Might be the quest itself.”

Haekyung walked beside me, unconcerned, while I kept an eye on Yehyun following quietly behind.

The door we reached was far larger than it had looked from a distance.

“Does it even open...?”

One of the Infinite Guild guys muttered, reaching out to touch it. Ever since one of their comrades had died, the other two had been meek and obedient. Very cooperative. A shame about that death.

Then it happened.

The one touching the door suddenly screamed.

“Uwaaahhh!”

What the hell? A trap? I reflexively shoved Yehyun behind me.

“Hyung!”

“Not me. Someone else.”

Relieved, Yehyun gripped my shoulder, trying to stop me—but he wasn’t nearly strong enough.

“Guildmaster, are you okay?”

“......”

Haekyung was silent for a beat, then vanished from sight. I swept the flashlight around—he was sitting on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“...Is he dead?”

What?

I quickly bent down to check the collapsed guild member.

“Step aside, Guildmaster.”

“No mana. None at all.”

“Yeah, let me check. Move.”

It didn’t make sense for someone to just keel over mid-quest. Shoving Haekyung back, I inspected the hunter on the floor.

“Hey, Jiwoong.”

No response. I pressed closer—no breathing.

“Yehyun.”

“Yes.”

He rushed over. I handed him the flashlight and checked the guy’s carotid pulse. Nothing consistent. Cardiac arrest?

“Give it back.”

“Okay.”

Snatching the phone again, I pried open his eyelids to check pupil response. Constriction.

'Son of a bitch. He’s alive.'

I immediately set my hands on his chest and began compressions.