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Chapter 9 …
Dungeon.
A place filled with countless traps and monsters, but also a chance to turn your life around.
Treasures that would be impossible to gather even after squeezing out your entire lifetime (some Awakeners call it a “random gacha jackpot!”).
Hidden pieces—secret rooms (also sometimes called “rooms you can’t leave unless you X-clear them,” depending on who you ask).
And even skill books.
Now then.
Up to this point, it was a dungeon from my past life.
And where is this now?
A medieval martial arts world.
“Divine techniques, heavenly elixirs, peerless beauties… well, maybe not that last one, but anyway, there’s definitely treasure.”
Even the dungeon’s name is “Cheonri Shintu’s Tier 3 Secret Vault.”
Hold on a second.
Who is Cheonri Shintu?
He’s a master of light-footed movement who could travel roughly 45–50 km in the blink of an eye.
And if he felt like it, there was nothing he couldn’t steal—basically the greatest thief in history.
‘I don’t even know if “Tier 3” is high or low…’
But it’s a dungeon, so there must be something.
And on top of that—
ding!
[Detected a ‘Falling’ trap.]
[You have gained experience and grown.]
[Proficiency in certain skills has increased.]
ding!
[You have dismantled a ‘Falling’ trap.]
[You have gained experience and grown.]
[Proficiency in certain skills has increased.]
[You have obtained 1 Skill Point.]
[Total internal energy has slightly increased.]
By spotting and dismantling traps, I kept gaining experience like crazy and even leveled up.
Damn it!
Isn’t this basically free farming?!
But Cheonri Shintu must’ve really had too much time on his hands.
The vault was well made, but there were way too many traps.
I’ve dismantled over ten of them already.
The path is a straight line.
I also checked carefully to see if there were any hidden doors.
Any doors?
“Nope. None. Just… nothing.”
Well… I’m not completely certain.
Once you enter a dungeon, interference from its internal mana reduces the range of map-type skills and prevents seeing through walls.
So things like scouting every corner of a marketplace for hidden treasure are restricted here.
I was searching as thoroughly as possible, but still hadn’t found anything.
“It’s strange… there are no monsters.”
In my past-life dungeons, roughly 80% had monsters or traps the moment you entered.
If you weren’t careful, your head would get smashed within seconds—also about 80% chance.
In that sense, this medieval martial arts world’s dungeon felt strangely peaceful.
Only basic traps so far.
Well, I shouldn’t average it out—I haven’t explored other dungeons yet.
Who knows?
Monsters (jiangshi, yokai, etc.) might suddenly appear.
And indeed, something did appear.
“…I’m not good at thinking.”
A puzzle.
* * *
Cheonri Shintu.
He was famous as the greatest thief of all time, but not for the reason people think.
It was because of his secret vaults and treasures.
During his lifetime, Cheonri Shintu traveled across the Central Plains building hidden vaults everywhere.
He installed all kinds of traps, and stored stolen treasures inside as “rewards” in each one.
After that, what he did was simple.
—“Take this! Treasure map!”
He scattered hundreds of treasure maps.
Thus began the era of great treasure hunting… no, the era of great treasure chaos.
Each vault had about 5–10 overlapping maps.
Meaning he built at least 50 or more vaults.
Someone might ask:
Even if he was the greatest thief in history, how is that even possible?
Yeah.
He even robbed the imperial palace.
He wasn’t suspiciously rich—he was just rich.
But Cheonri Shintu had one condition.
The “I’m different” syndrome.
Even if you build vaults, what’s the point if they’re all the same theme?
So every single vault he made had a completely different concept.
The problem was that his “concepts” were traps and puzzles.
“Ha… whatever the concept is, this is just insanely annoying.”
Imgang was stuck in front of a wall (a puzzle).
For a full hour!
At first glance, it didn’t even look that hard.
It looked tightly packed, but there were tiny gaps, and by rearranging the pieces, you could insert an extra piece into a hidden slot.
Normally puzzles like this eventually go—
“Ta-da! Easy, right?”
…but when there are dozens of pieces, it becomes a different story.
‘Should I stop for today?’
It wasn’t like he gained nothing so far.
Because Cheonri Shintu was basically insane, there were rewards placed after every trap cleared.
Whether they were good or not was another matter.
First—
[Universal Opening Key (Tonggae Key)]
Durability: 93 / 100
In simple terms, a lockpick.
It literally only picks locks, with no extra effects whatsoever.
Since it was given by the thief god himself, he kept it anyway.
Next—
[Handmade Low-Grade Golden Wound Medicine]
Uses remaining: 9 / 10
Additional effects: Waterproof, minor regeneration
Anyone who has read even a single martial arts novel would recognize Golden Wound Medicine.
It was low-grade, yet had waterproofing and regeneration—ironic.
But since it was a handmade “gift from a god (seriously!!),” it couldn’t be ordinary.
Imgang’s reaction:
“…This must be expensive, right?”
Probably at least a few silver coins.
There were other small items too, but nothing particularly valuable.
The key and the medicine couldn’t even be sold.
Selling them would probably get him killed instead.
Anyway.
He decided to try the puzzle once more, and if it didn’t work, rest.
And of course, he couldn’t solve it.
“Ah. The floor feels cold—perfect for catching a chill.”
So he rested for a bit.
He had a mat, but it couldn’t block the cold air.
I wish there was a cold-resistant bedding someday…
Still, as he circulated his internal energy, warmth spread through his stomach.
Just as he was drifting into sleep—
A spark of 1% inspiration struck.
“…Is that also a trap?”
Then let’s do it immediately.
beep!
[Trap dismantling skill level is insufficient.]
“…Oh. So it just means I need to level up the skill.”
He invested points to raise the skill level, then used it again.
The puzzle pieces began moving on their own, fitting into place.
clack— KOOONG.
A door opened, revealing a passage to the next room.
The moment he stepped forward—
[You have cleared the dungeon ‘Cheonri Shintu’s Tier 3 Secret Vault’.]
[You have gained experience and grown.]
[You have obtained 2 Skill Points.]
“…?”
Already?
That was it…?
It felt like a strangely hollow first dungeon clear of his new life.
In a way, it was kind of boring.
He walked through the passage and arrived at the reward room.
Disappointing?
Nope.
Boring?
Actually kind of awesome.
Cheonri Shintu was a god, and dungeons were unbeatable.
“Martial arts manuals and elixirs!”
The reward consisted of a book that looked like a martial arts manual and a small box containing an elixir.
ding!
[This is “Stealing Hand Technique (Tusu / 偸手)”.]
“…Baseball pitcher?”
Imgang briefly escaped reality.
“Steal” (偸) and “hand” (手)—so basically a pickpocketing technique.
A petty thief skill.
Why would someone leave something like this as a treasure reward?
As a modern-day living conscience, it was impossible for him to understand thieves.
“Oh, the elixir looks normal…”
[Crudely made handmade low-grade elixir]
Made by Jo Woo-ryang using common roadside ingredients.
Increases internal energy by 1 year.
“…Yeah, it’s not normal.”
As expected from shameless thieves.
One thing was clear:
The Tier 3 vault was only useful for early leveling.
He gained 4 levels from this place.
Another 5 from the Jeokryu Sect and Black Path faction incident.
Hmm?
Hmmmmmm?
Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.
* * *
Imgang placed a log he brought from outside and lit a fire.
“Puhuh— puhuh!”
Did his ancestors give him this fire?
Of course not.
He used flint, something commonly seen in martial arts novels.
Here, they called it “hwajeolja.”
He once asked for “hwaseopja” and got laughed at.
whoosh
Once the fire grew, he stopped blowing.
He couldn’t do this outside.
The smoke would immediately reveal him.
As expected, dungeons were godlike.
“…Anyway, should I learn this or not?”
This was the first time he had seen such a trash reward dungeon.
He skewered jerky on a dagger and grilled it while thinking.
Pickpocketing skills in a city like Hangzhou where murder could happen at any moment…
On the flip side, if you got caught using it, you’d probably be killed.
But if you don’t get caught, it’s fine, right?
What, are you a genius?
He thought about it, but the conclusion was already decided.
“Guess I’ll learn it anyway.”
Who knows when it might be useful?
It wasn’t like he planned to pickpocket random passersby.
Again—he was a man of conscience.
(Illegal jobs—surprisingly, killing people during contracts wasn’t considered illegal here!)
After a few days, he went out for fresh air under a bridge.
Dungeons—or rather vaults—were good, but ventilation was terrible.
Even if ventilation was good, it would still be a problem.
As he breathed in and out—
He suddenly heard commotion.
Clashing metal, shouting, footsteps.
Imgang instinctively lowered his body.
“Catch that guy!”
“I—I did nothing wrong!”
“You’re from Chilsa Bang, the Yeomwangchae gang, right?”
“I am from Yeomwangchae and Chilsa Bang and yes I’m Deokgu, but I didn’t do anything!”
“According to the Great Ming Law, exceeding illegal interest rates—!”
“Shut up and surrender quietly if you want to live!”
So Yeomwangchae’s final big score got busted.
People weren’t just being arrested—chaos erupted everywhere.
When he peeked slightly, the arresting group was wearing military uniforms.
If soldiers were involved, they must’ve seriously messed with the wrong people.
Probably not a high official… so maybe they pissed off someone’s son or something.
‘Whoever those idiots are, thank you.’
Good news for Imgang.
All ties with Yeomwangchae had basically been erased.
Two days later, he returned to his rented room.
“…Which bastard is it?”
He had tried to rest, but that wasn’t going to happen.
* * *
A typical third-rate wanderer of Hangzhou, Daebung, headed to the broker office early in the morning.
“Gijeolmyobi! Haven’t seen you in a while—what’s goin’ on…”
“X-fuck off, don’t talk to me.”
“…What’s wrong with him?”
Daebung, intimidated by Imgang’s murderous aura, asked another wanderer.
“He said his house got looted while he was away.”
“…Ah.”
He sympathized with the unfortunate story.
