LIGHTNOVELSTORY Chapter 6 - First, the Registration
Chapter 6 First, the Registration
[You have used a ‘Low-grade Summoning Scroll’!]
[Player ‘Baek Jin-woo’ has obtained the summon ‘Sludge Pile’ (F-rank)!]
[You have used a ‘Low-grade Summoning Scroll’!]
[Player ‘Baek Jin-woo’ has obtained the summon ‘Horned Butterfly’ (F-rank)!]
Two F-ranks came out first.
[You have used a ‘Low-grade Summoning Scroll’!]
[Player ‘Baek Jin-woo’ has obtained the summon ‘Poison Lizard’ (E-rank)!]
Oh, an E-rank!
Jin-woo clenched his fist and silently shouted “Nice!” in his mind.
This was a good start.
Counting Lamba as E-rank, he had beaten the 5% odds twice out of five times.
Not bad at all.
‘And a Poison Lizard?’
For its rank, it was actually quite useful.
A cost-effective summon.
‘I got lucky.’
Heh heh.
Along with the Furry Gorilla, it would be helpful for getting through the early stages.
“Come here.”
When Jin-woo extended his hand:
Whirrr!
The Horned Butterfly flew over and perched on his left arm, while the Sludge Pile crawled up to his feet.
‘This one.’
The smell is kind of awful.
I should use it for a bit and then get rid of it.
And then.
– Slurp, slurp!
The Poison Lizard also approached, flicking its tongue as it slowly crawled toward him.
‘Now that the team is formed, let’s start with the lowest-level dungeons.’
The next step was simple.
Level up the summons, keep tearing open summoning scrolls, and once he had a decent combination, he could start farming runes in earnest.
The more runes, which were like gear for summons, the better.
You could swap them in and out depending on the situation!
‘Farm runes, hunt monsters, tear open summoning scrolls.’
This was the system of growth: an endless cycle of these three steps.
As he kept going, he would be able to raise better summons and get stronger runes.
‘Back to grinding, huh?’
There’s no RPG without grinding.
Even in reality, the same principles applied.
Come to think of it, isn’t reality just like that too?
Whether you’re studying or running a business, success comes from repeating the same things over and over.
Jin-woo set a short-term goal.
‘Finding all the remaining EX-rank summons.’
What would happen if he managed to gather all ten EX-ranks and build a dream team?
“Crazy.”
Just thinking about it made him curse out loud.
It would be totally broken.
Imagining an Avengers-level team in his head, Jin-woo became certain.
If he gathered them all, even a team of five S-rank summons wouldn’t stand a chance.
He could probably crush through all 100 floors of the tower with ease.
‘Ahh.’
It excited him.
He was so excited that he felt the urge to move right away.
Where’s the dungeon?
Back when this was a phone game, dungeons were divided into stages, and you just clicked to enter.
But now, in reality?
This wasn’t a phone game.
He’d probably have to find the dungeons himself.
Swoosh.
Jin-woo took out the phone he had activated earlier and searched for information about dungeons.
Soon after:
“What?!”
He shouted in surprise without realizing it.
“Is this for real?”
Dungeon gates appeared randomly in different neighborhoods.
Luckily, you could gauge the difficulty based on the energy the gate emitted…
‘But civilians can’t enter the dungeons even if they have summons?’
Damn!
I can’t just jump right into a dungeon?
Upon further investigation, Jin-woo learned that he had to register with the Player Headquarters first.
At first, dungeons had been open to everyone, but with the high death rate, the government decided to step in and regulate access.
Every dungeon had a staff member stationed at the entrance, and you needed permission from them to enter.
“Sigh.”
And, of course, the law had only been enacted this year.
Talk about bad luck.
‘The registration process looks like a hassle too.’
There were a lot of required training sessions, including dungeon practice and battle training.
‘And they even make you compete?’
It was probably a way to control the number of players.
For society to function smoothly, it needed people in a variety of occupations.
If everyone became a player just because it was lucrative, problems would inevitably arise.
“Well, I guess registration’s no big deal.”
Ring—
Muttering to himself, Jin-woo called his sister.
– Oh, Oppa.
She answered right away?
I guess she was serious when she said to call whenever I needed help.
“I need to register to enter dungeons, but you never mentioned that.”
– Ah! That’s right, I forgot!
Ah-jin laughed awkwardly before continuing.
– A few days ago, I got a letter with something like a player certificate, but I didn’t think much of it. Turns out it’s because of the new law.
“How could you forget to mention something so important?”
– Haha, sorry. I didn’t know all the details either. Players who did more than 10 dungeon activities last year got automatically registered. I vaguely remember reading something about it and just brushed it off. But I guess people like you who didn’t play last year lost their certification, huh? Looks like you’ll be competing with the players who’ve been on hiatus for the last three years.
“No chance you could pull some strings?”
– Oppa… I don’t have that kind of influence.
“Come on, you were boasting about your C-rank Shadow Elf earlier.”
– Hey! The Player Headquarters is strict. You need to at least be in the rankings to have any sway there.
“Rankings?”
– Oh, you didn’t know? Every year, they rank players based on their influence. There’s a domestic top 100 and a global top 100.
“Ah, I see.”
– Of course, Korea’s number one player isn’t even good enough to make the global rankings. Ugh, if only that legendary JinuGod showed up, our country could rise in the ranks too.
“Hmph, got it. Thanks.”
Feeling slightly guilty at the mention of “JinuGod,” Jin-woo quickly ended the call.
Anyway.
To be active as a player, he needed to get certified.
There was even a ranking system, huh?
‘Okay.’
Since everything was set up, I’ll just go home and rest for today.
***
The next morning.
6 a.m.
Jin-woo woke up early, ready to head out immediately.
“Ah.”
But his mom and dad were already awake and preparing breakfast.
Our family is so diligent.
“Huh? Where are you headed this early?”
His father, who was setting the table, asked.
“Jamsil.”
“Huh?”
“Didn’t you hear from Ah-jin? You told me to try becoming a player or something. That’s what it’s for.”
“Ah, so that’s what Ah-jin meant when she said you were getting things moving.”
“Yeah. Since I’ve already lost three years, I have to work hard to make up for it.”
“Hmm.”
His father gave a small cough and looked at him with a proud expression.
“Son.”
“Yes?”
“I was worried, but I’m glad to see you getting your act together as soon as you woke up.”
“I had to. There’s a lot I need to catch up on. Registration and all that—it’s gotten pretty strict, hasn’t it?”
“True. But it’s a solid career path. Look at me, am I not impressive?”
Woooong!
As his father waved his hand, he tried to summon his ‘Pebble Golem’ (E-rank) proudly.
“Dear!”
His mom frowned and scolded him.
“How many times have I told you not to summon that thing in the house? It’s a nuisance!”
“Haha, sorry.”
His father awkwardly scratched his head.
Technically, his father wasn’t a full-fledged player.
Instead of dungeon crawling, he worked in loading and unloading jobs with his Pebble Golem.
“Anyway, it’s a relief that you’re back on your feet. Always keep up the good work.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Jin-woo smiled and nodded his head in gratitude.
“Mom, Dad. Thank you.”
“Huh? What’s with that all of a sudden?”
“For covering my hospital bills and always cheering me on.”
“Come on, what’s with all this gratitude talk? Just do your best. Are you going to eat before you go?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t skip meals. I’ve been starving for three years, so my stomach’s been telling me to eat properly.”
“Are you getting enough sleep?”
“I had plenty of sleep over the last three years. I’m sick of it now.”
It was true.
Just let me finish this registration.
From now on, it’ll be 6 a.m. starts and 2 a.m. finishes.
I’ll have to push myself hard.
There’s no time to waste right now.
“Anyway, enjoy your breakfast! I’m heading out!”
After saying goodbye, Jin-woo’s mother, Hwang Myeong-hee, tapped her husband Baek Jin-cheol’s shoulder.
“Honey.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think it’ll be okay?”
“It’s better than him lying around aimlessly. The government’s providing plenty of safety training these days, so it should be fine.”
“…I suppose.”
“Who knows? Maybe our Jin-woo will become the world’s greatest player.”
“I’m not hoping for anything like that. I just want him to stay healthy.”
The whole time he had been in the hospital, she had worried constantly.
She had been grateful just for him to still be alive and had prayed for his recovery every day.
In truth, she had been against the idea of her son becoming a player.
It was a more dangerous job than she had expected.
After finally surviving such a close call, what if he died again?
However.
Baek Jin-cheol had insisted.
He had noticed that when Jin-woo looked at the golems in his hospital room, his gaze was the same as when he used to play that mobile game.
For the first time in years, his son was fully invested in something productive.
Even if it was dangerous.
Supporting him from behind was the right thing to do, according to Baek Jin-cheol.
‘Be careful, son.’
Hwang Myeong-hee gazed affectionately at the door her son had just exited.
***
Were there a lot of players?
Not exactly.
Even though all of humanity was eligible to become players, not many actually pursued it.
It couldn’t be helped.
Statistically, more people preferred safety over risk.
The biggest factor was that your life was on the line.
The ‘Shield’ protecting the player disappeared if all of their summons were unsummoned.
If you entered a dungeon and all your summons got unsummoned due to a mistake?
You’d die.
Either by being torn apart or mutilated in some horrifying way.
No matter how great the rewards or how much fame it could bring, it wasn’t an easy decision to make.
In Korea especially, the early days had been marked by an alarmingly high dungeon death rate.
It was tragic but somewhat laughable.
People had gotten greedy.
You could call it a “main character syndrome.”
People, influenced by fantasy and martial arts stories, had deluded themselves into thinking they were the protagonists, pushing themselves too far in dungeons and ending up dead.
There was even a theory that Korea’s poor ranking in global battle competitions was due to the fact that they had lost so many promising 20- and 30-year-old gamers early on.
“Hello. Are you here to register?”
When Jin-woo arrived at the Player Headquarters registration office, a well-dressed staff member greeted him politely.
“You’ve come at the right time. Today’s the deadline for this month’s registration. Just submit your form here.”
The required materials were simple:
– Resident Registration ID.
– One team of summons.
– A player application form with personal details.
Once registered?
You’d receive training as a team for a set period, take a written test, and then go through dungeon practice.
After that, you’d participate in a player battle competition.
From that competition, only 50 players per month would receive the official ‘Player’ title.
‘50 people…’
That’s tough.
Really tough.
Why?
Even now, there were hundreds of people just registering at the office.
The funny thing was that most of them weren’t even beginners.
They were probably players whose registrations had been canceled, and they were now trying to requalify.
‘But whatever.’
Jin-woo was confident.
If the competition was fair, he could easily outperform them.
If he couldn’t pass this…
Then the name One Heaven JinuGod would be tarnished.
“Here you go.”
After submitting his paperwork, Jin-woo headed to a nearby café to wait comfortably while searching for more information.