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Translator: penny
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Mental Management
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Pale moonlight descended.
That serene, subtle glow quietly enveloped the ruins of the ancient site, now reduced to rubble.
A beautiful sight.
On Earth, it would have been the perfect scene to sit around with friends, chatting away, eating, drinking, laughing uproariously, and clinking glasses.
Rustle. Rustle.
Taking in the hazy vista, I slowly made my way back to the watch post.
There sat an exotic beauty whose allure rivaled the scenery itself.
Pert nose. Striking features. Ample breasts. Reserved elegance and an innate haughtiness.
I'd heard one of her grandparents was foreign, and true to her quarter-blood heritage, this chaebol heiress boasted not just a killer figure but a stunning face as well.
She leaned against the wall, staring blankly into the void.
Smoothly, I sidled up and held a teacup out before her eyes.
Hot steam wafted up, and Han So-hee blinked prettily as the warmth and aroma hit her.
Her lovely eyes slowly turned to me, then dropped to the cup.
"Drink up. Chamomile. Good for insomnia, deep sleep, and easing stress. Have some now, and you'll drift off comfortably soon enough."
"Where'd you get something like this?"
"Brought it from Earth."
I'd agonized plenty over what to pack when leaving Earth.
Backpack space is limited, after all.
Stuffing it blindly just piles on the weight and backfires. Sometimes, little luxuries like this beat essentials.
'Sure, you can buy coffee or chamomile in the rest areas here too...'
But cash was tight early on, so I'd tucked some into a backpack corner. Barely any weight.
"..."
Han So-hee stared straight at me, then accepted the cup I offered.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
"One thing I want to ask you. Do you always look after people like this?"
In short, was this tea just a polite gesture?
'Pretty much.'
But in front of a woman, careful words pay dividends—and a smooth tongue keeps you out of the sweet frying pan. Ten brutal years had drilled that into me. I deflected smoothly.
"...Not just anyone, anytime."
"What does that mean?"
"You looked like you had something weighing on you."
"Huh?"
"Watched you for a bit. Seemed lost in thought. Couldn't just walk by."
Han So-hee turned surprised eyes on me.
"That obvious? Thought I'd hidden it well."
"I'm sharp like that."
After ten years dancing on death's edge, how could I not be?
A glance, a tone, a simple gesture—I could read a person's state pretty accurately.
"...I see. Didn't realize you had that kind of talent."
After a brief pause, Han So-hee spoke up.
"Truth is—"
"Okay, hold it there. No need. Didn't offer the tea to hear your story."
Other people's baggage just wears you down.
In the selection process, who lacks a sob story? Hardly anyone.
Once you start listening, you're trapped hearing it out and bearing the brunt.
One round of mopping up after a sleepless, sobbing, drunken mess of a woman? That was enough in round one.
'Spare me the backstory. Just need no issues for tomorrow's fight.'
Hence, the chamomile.
Han So-hee gazed at me blankly, then broke into a soft smile—one brimming with genuine warmth, unlike her usual perfunctory one.
"You're so thoughtful."
In the chill night air, she lifted the steaming cup to her nose and parted her smiling lips.
"Thanks. Truth is..."
I took a seat. She'd already opened the floodgates, begging for an ear. Right to bail? Vanished.
Party leader time: mental health check for the team.
Han So-hee continued, face a touch timid.
"...Truth is, I've been thinking about the people who came here with me. Because of my failings, they all left me behind."
Abandoned her? Or died due to her screw-ups? Unclear, but even the middle-aged captain who'd guarded her had split.
'Guy looked pretty steadfast.'
Didn't scream betrayal, but you never know. Drop humans in trial hell, and they dredge up their ugliest instincts to survive.
I got dumped ten minutes into my first trial.
Soon after landing, lizards swarmed.
The "let's conquer together!" crew instantly turned me into bait, shoving me flat and bolting.
-Now! Run!
-Flee far while he's tanking!
-...
Luckily, reeds everywhere. They aggro'd hard fleeing; I flattened in the mud and lived.
But the shock? Indescribable.
So yeah, I got Han So-hee's turmoil. Her shock.
"That's why I... I..."
Tears welled uncharacteristically. I reached out, gripped her hand tight.
"Don't worry. Least I won't ditch you."
"Wha...?"
Pure party morale maintenance, of course. Raid tomorrow—can't have her off.
"What did you...?"
Her hand trembled in mine. She whipped around, pretty eyes locking on.
"Won't abandon you, period. No worries. Won't happen again."
"!!"
Worked like a charm—no gloom, just wide-eyed bunny shock.
Satisfied, but her file flashed in mind. Swallowed the caveat.
'Long as you curb the greed, I won't drop you.'
...Greed. Yeah, that's the poison.
[Star of Fate] bearers tread a brutal path.
Dodge the fated road? No growth. Embrace it? Tragedy.
'Selection process bullshit—big rewards demand big prices—on full display.'
Some might recruit her for that S-rank [Star of Fate] potential.
Not me.
Opposite.
That cursed trait had me tempted to refuse outright. But she begged so earnestly, I relented.
Sans that, she's useful as hell.
"Y-you won't abandon me? Saying something so embarrassing..."
Well, pure, cute reactions? Fun to poke.
I grinned, wrapping it up.
"Don't overthink it. I just don't toss my things. You're mine too, yeah? Won't toss you. That's the gist."
"Ah..."
Eyes saucered, then she chuckled lightly after absorbing it—carefree, chasing off the heavy vibe.
"Thanks. That hit home. You're a warm soul. Thoughtfulness like this? First since Manager Go."
"Manager Go?"
"Yeah, Strategic Planning's Go Cheol-woo. You remember—he grilled you."
Ah, that middle-aged dude was Manager Go.
Curious about his whereabouts, but skipped asking. Goal met: face relaxed, tea sipped easy. Fight-ready tomorrow.
"Great tea. Thanks for hosting."
"Anytime."
She bowed gratitude; I dipped back modestly. Heads up—eyes locked perfectly.
"..."
"..."
Warm tea chasing cold air? Or heart thawed by comfort?
Han So-hee stared, cheeks rosy.
Gaze burned with blatant fondness. Noses brushed. Faces inches apart.
"..."
Screaming for it.
But no kiss.
Lips hovered hesitant; lovely face eased back slow.
Believes it'd cheapen her worth, her poise.
Mindset as refined as her looks—maybe that's her noble edge.
...Not kissing here? Certifiable loser move.
"!!"
Slammed lips to hers. Eyes flew wide, then drifted shut as she pressed back.
Smack... Saliva mingled, tongues coiled.
...How many soft, slick dances?
"Haa... haa... Nngh. T-time. I'll wake them."
Face crimson, she shot up and fled to the tent. Hid inside ages.
Textbook virgin first-kiss freakout.
"Yaaawn."
Time passed; yawning ladies emerged.
'Good, both crashed proper.'
Pillow creases sharp, hair tousled—proof of solid sleep, no bullshit.
"Min-jun, quick bathroom run."
"Mm. Unnie, me too."
Off to the banquet hall's side room they went. Watch dragged on; Han So-hee returned ladylike beside me.
Arm 'round her waist, yanked close.
"Nngh."
No fight; she yields.
Kissed deep, pants down. She glances john, bends, face to groin—bobs away.
"Slurp slurp slurp."
"Faster."
"Slurp slurp slurp slurp."
Chaebol miss's devoted suckling. Hand extends. Yanks her waistband.
Plump ass pops, my gifted panties. Hand to panty cleft.
Twitch.
"No stopping. Keep sucking."
"...Slurp slurp."
Shlick shlick.
Shiver shiver.
"...Unnie, so like I said."
Rustle—duo returning. Han So-hee head-lifts; nope.
"Till I blow. Yeah. Suck sloppy."
Fondle cleft, buck hips.
Fingers feel her slit drip; doorway silhouettes sharpen.
"That Dickhead fucker then..."
They step out. Faces clear—I unload in her mouth.
[[Summoner's Letter Envelope: Replica] has been used.]
Splurt. Splurt. Spleurt.
"Ah, fuck yeah, unloading. Rich bitch mouth's insane."
"...Gulp gulp gulp."
No order, but she gulps it down. Thorough up-down polish to finish—classy spendthrift.
"Sohee, tasty cum?"
Nod.
"Good. Daily feeds ahead. No greed, just cling quiet by me. Rest? I got it."
Hard ass smack for good job. She straightens, mouth tidy quick.
Fusses my clothes, hair perfect, replies.
"Promise. Daily your loads. No greed, obedient shadow."
Tent later, feigns sleep—milks two more.
"Ngh, blowing again."
"...Gulp gulp. Gulp."
Morning came, much like usual—but off somehow.
'Hm. Body feels stiff.'
Sitting up tougher than expected. Cautiously craned neck, scanned.
"..."
Left: panty-clad Han So-hee hugging tight, snoring soft. Right: buck-naked Yi Sera latched on, cheek to chest, fiddling cock.
Tldr: naked trio tangle.
'...When'd the brat slip in?'
Not fazed anymore. Thought done, doze off—someone slurps dick. Her, apparently.
"Oi, up. Morning."
"Mmm."
Gently shook Yi Sera; burrowed deeper, tongue-flicks nipple.
Her squirms jostle me; Han So-hee clamps tighter.
'Life, huh. Wake sandwiched by two stunners—virgins to boot.'
Round one never saw this. Laid back, scooped both.
Plush asses packed tight, faint body wash whiffs, fresh skin scents—morning wood throbbed fierce.
...Post-special dawn, breakfast down, we prepped to roll.
Tent struck, mats stowed, gear packed.
"All set!"
"Yosh. Hit the road. Lunch at rest area. Dickhead, move it."
"Hold up."
Halted the Shin Seo-yeon-led crew at the dog hole, dropped pack in vast hall's corner.
"Miss something? Emergency dump?"
"Nah. Pre-departure chore here."
Stretched, hand to pocket.
'Few folks can't down a raid boss.'
Trial-dependent, but 500+ minimum consensus.
Ultra-early strict caps? Flat impossible.
Gathering that many? Pipe dream.
'Five pulling it off? Prep mandatory.'
Big crews needed for raw DPS drought.
Even transcendent Shin Seo-yeon falls short.
'Crave firepower plug—or alt fix—potent item.'
Rest area? Nada.
Makes sense. Spots stock trial-fit gear only.
So...
"Huh? Min-jun, that's..."
I drew the envelope.
[[Summoner's Letter Envelope: Replica] has been used.]
Party invite-lookin' envelope sprouted cute wings, ripped air slit, dove in.
"F-fuck, that thing!"
Shin Seo-yeon bugged eyes—bad flashback. Fyi, [Summoner's Letter Envelope] theoretically yanks anyone/anything.
'Hit?'
10 secs: air rends, envelope back.
Halts neat before me—like grunt saluting CO—gapes huge.
Riiip.
Hacked up its gut cargo, no holds barred.
Thud!
Mass quakes space.
"Wha—?!"
Humanoid shape. Lanky limbs. Pregnant-swell gut. Noggin? Just maw.
5m alien-esque thudded down, cranky scans environs.
"M-Min-jun?"
"H-hey, f-fuck, Dickhead! What the hell'd you drag in?!"
Rock Ghost.
~Fourth trial regular. Mountain-dweller, rock-muncher.
Rock diet screams nuts defense—laughs off most physical hits.
Rooooar!
Pissy at yank from home turf. Snarled.
Envelope spooks at bellow, zips rift-gone.
Grrrr.
Fury zeroes: us.
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