After three full days of silence and stillness, Gong-heo stood once again inside the Main Hall of the Rogue Hunter Guild.
The air hadn't changed, yet it felt different. He couldn't explain why. Maybe it was the still-burning torches clinging dimly to the cold stone walls, or the deep scars on the massive pillars carved by hunters who either made it big or didn't make it at all. Maybe it was just him. Maybe he had changed.
Steel and dust still lingered faintly in the air like an old, forgotten war, but the pressure was heavier now—like the hall itself was aware of his presence.
It watched him.
He quietly approached the enormous quest bulletin board that towered over him like some ancient relic. Dozens of missions fluttered like dying leaves on a stormy tree—each one promising danger, bloodshed, and maybe a heroic death if you were lucky enough to become a corpse with a story.
His eyes skimmed the list.
"Exterminate the Reborn Basilisk in Vulton's Hollow."
"Escort Lady Miradelle to the Cursed Oasis."
"Scout the blood-soaked ruins of Eomok-chi."
All of them screamed, "You will die a painful, cinematic death."
'Beginner-friendly' didn't exist here.
He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, brows furrowed. It wasn't fear. It was the kind of hesitation you felt when someone handed you a sword, pointed at a dragon, and said, "Go make friends."
But then, he saw it.
A lone quest pinned awkwardly to the far-left corner of the board, almost like it had been exiled. The paper was too clean, too... harmless. It didn't even have the dramatic blood-smeared border like the others.
Curious, he leaned closer.
It read:
— Quest Title: "Locate and retrieve wild ginseng from the Baekdu-daegan Mountain Range."
Reward: ₩560, 800
Gong-heo blinked once.
Then twice.
"…That's it?"
He leaned in again, as if his brain had glitched.
No mention of beasts. No warnings. No cryptic messages like "Those who went before you never returned." Just... ginseng. A root. An herb. A freaking plant.
He half-expected the paper to morph into a monster and laugh at him, but it stayed still. Boring and awkwardly peaceful.
He glanced back at the board.
Death. Doom. Fire.
And then… ginseng.
One of these things was not like the others.
"…The hell is this doing here?" he muttered.
Maybe it was cursed. Or maybe it was a prank—something the Guild posted to mess with newbies.
But the reward was real.
Three hundred thousand won. For a root.
Sure, it wasn't enough to buy a mansion, but it was more than enough for food, bath, and a soft bed for a week. And no monsters trying to chew his leg off? Gong-heo smiled faintly. That sounded like a win.
He plucked the quest from the board with a quiet whisper of paper. No loud declaration. No drama.
Just a soft, "Mine."
But the moment he turned around…
Silence fell.
The chatter in the hall dropped by several levels. A few hunters nearby paused mid-sip of their coffee. Someone's spoon fell into a bowl.
Gong-heo stopped walking. He could feel the stares.
They weren't hostile. Just… confused. Alarmed, maybe. Curious, definitely.
Like someone had just seen a man slap a lion on the nose and walk away whistling.
'Do I have something on my face?' he wondered.
A tall, bald hunter with a tattooed neck whispered to the person beside him, who immediately glanced at Gong-heo like he'd grown horns.
'Okay… weird.'
He ignored it.
As if nothing strange was happening, Gong-heo calmly approached the front desk.
There, sitting stiffly behind a pile of paperwork, was Hyun—the Guild's receptionist.
Hyun wasn't old, but he had that tired, coffee-blooded aura of someone who had seen too many hot-headed hunters kick down doors and scream about dragons. His sharp jawline and neatly combed hair gave him the look of a former knight forced into retirement paperwork.
He looked up.
And saw the paper.
Something flickered behind his eyes.
It wasn't surprise. More like… disbelief with a side of 'oh no, not again.'
"I'll take this one," Gong-heo said casually, placing the quest slip on the counter.
Hyun stared at the paper, then at Gong-heo.
Then at the paper again.
"…Are you sure?" he asked slowly.
Gong-heo raised a brow. "Why? Is it not available?"
"It's available," Hyun replied. "Just... unusual."
"Well," Gong-heo said with a dry chuckle, "I like ginseng."
A beat passed.
Then Hyun gave a quiet sigh, took the paper, and pressed the Guild's red skeletal bloom stamp onto it.
The ink glowed briefly—dark red, almost alive—before sinking into the parchment like a wound closing.
The mark of the Rogue Hunter Guild. It meant the quest was officially his.
Gong-heo nodded his thanks, grabbed the slip, and turned to leave.
The hall was still quiet.
People watched him go with unreadable expressions—some confused, some amused, some just plain stunned.
He exited the hall like he'd just signed up to water flowers. Meanwhile, the weight of everyone's eyes clung to his back like an invisible cloak.
°°°
The journey to Baekdu-daegan Mountain Range was surprisingly pleasant.
He took a guild-assigned horse named "Tofu"—a white, lazy-eyed mare with a suspicious habit of eating his map when he wasn't looking. She didn't care about monsters or the heroic mission Gong-heo pretended he was on.
He liked her already.
The deeper they went into the mountains, the quieter the world became. There were no roars, no cursed wind, no unnatural shadows creeping through the trees. Just the occasional flutter of birds and the gentle hum of the forest.
It felt too peaceful.
Which, of course, made it feel suspicious.
He kept his senses sharp. Ginseng or not, this was still a quest. A rogue hunter should never let his guard down.
After several hours of hiking up moss-covered paths, dodging the occasional leech the size of a chubby rat, and trying not to slip on wet rocks, he finally found a clearing.
There, under the shade of a crooked pine tree, were several wild ginseng roots.
They glowed faintly.
Not in a magical way—more like the kind of glow you see in cartoons when someone discovers treasure.
He knelt beside them.
The roots were thick, healthy, and slightly twisted like they'd grown while dancing to music only plants could hear. Gong-heo reached out and began gently digging with his fingers, being careful not to damage them.
"This is… kind of peaceful," he murmured.
Then, something growled behind him.
He froze.
Slowly, he turned his head.
Standing about fifteen feet away, half-hidden behind the ferns, was a creature.
Not just any creature.
It was a Mountain Wyrm—a long, snake-like beast with dull green scales and two tiny deer-like antlers poking from its head.
It blinked at him.
He blinked back.
"…You guarding the ginseng?" Gong-heo asked.
The wyrm growled again, curling its tail.
"Cool, cool," Gong-heo muttered, slowly pocketing the ginseng. "I get it. Private stash."
The wyrm slithered closer.
Tofu, the horse, neighed from a distance—more annoyed than afraid. She was munching a bush.
"Okay, okay, okay—no need to fight over salad," Gong-heo said, backing away.
The wyrm hissed, fangs bared.
Gong-heo reached into his satchel and pulled out something shiny.
A bottle.
It was ginseng tea.
He'd brought it for fun.
"I swear, I'm not stealing," he told the wyrm, shaking the bottle gently. "I'm just collecting distant relatives."
The wyrm paused.
Sniffed the air.
Then, to Gong-heo's surprise…
It slithered up, sniffed the bottle—and licked it.
"…You like tea?"
It licked it again.
And again.
Gong-heo slowly unscrewed the cap and poured some onto a flat rock.
The wyrm drank it.
And purred.
Not growled. Purred. Like a cat. A giant, horrifying, ginseng-loving forest noodle.
Gong-heo blinked, stunned.
"…You've got weird taste."
The wyrm flicked its tongue, gave a final sniff, and then slithered back into the woods without looking back.
He stared after it for a long time, holding the now-empty bottle.
"…Okay. That's going in the report."
He stood, dusted himself off, and looked at the ginseng roots now safely tucked in his pouch.
"No blood, no curse, no death," he whispered to himself.
Then grinned.
"I win."
°°°
When Gong-heo returned to the Guild with the ginseng in perfect condition, everyone stared.
Again.
He handed the pouch to Hyun, who opened it, examined the roots with cautious fingers, then slowly looked up.
"…You really brought them back."
"I did."
"No injuries?"
"Not unless you count a near-death tea party with a wyrm."
"…What?"
"Nothing."
Hyun sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and handed over the payment.
"Here's your ₩560,800," he said, voice heavy with disbelief.
Gong-heo smiled and pocketed the money.
As he turned to leave, someone from across the hall called out—
"Hey! You really took that ginseng quest?"
Gong-heo paused. "Yeah."
The hunter snorted. "Everyone thought it was fake. Like, a test. Or a curse."
Gong-heo shrugged. "Well, if it was a curse, it was tasty."
He held up the empty tea bottle and walked away.
And behind him, the hall finally erupted in confused, awkward applause.
Not out of admiration.
Out of sheer, stunned, "What just happened?"
And thus, Gong-heo completed his first quest.
With tea.
And a smile.
End of Chapter 3