The Second Coming of Gluttony - Chapter 80

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 80. “I hate living that way.” (4)

The meeting had dragged on into a tedious stalemate, just as Cho Hong had predicted. It wasn’t that they were incompetent—far from it. Capable people had assembled, yet against an opponent of this caliber, they could do little but feel adrift.
So it was that Seol Jihoo’s arrival, bearing a solution no one had conceived of, became a shaft of light piercing the darkness—a beacon in the gloom.
“Remarkable. Simply remarkable.”
Ian gazed at the papers with an expression almost dreamy, his eyes alight with wonder—not a trace of jest in them. Like a drowning man grasping at straw, he gripped the page and stared at it intently, as if willing it to yield more secrets.
“It’s not bidirectional like a warp, but rather bends a single direction to connect two points. Crude, perhaps, but ingenious. Wait—if we do that, the burden multiplies, so there must be limits… Damn it. Of course there are….”
He muttered to himself, his pen dancing ceaselessly across the paper.
A man watching the old scholar’s face was heavy with concern, his sharp eyes fixed and unblinking, his jaw working silently.
“He’s even written out an explanation. Maximum capacity per transit: one ton. Accounting for weight on the return journey, the number of personnel we can send means… wait, no. If we split it into multiple trips… Hell! Then there’s the issue of sustained mana consumption again….”
“Ian.”
Unable to hold back any longer, the man spoke. Ian lifted his head from his calculations.
“Can we trust this information?”
“Hmm….”
It was true. It seemed improbable that a Level 2 Warrior had brought such an account. For a knot of such difficulty to suddenly unravel when they were suffocating under despair—it felt almost too convenient. Suspicion was hardly unreasonable.
“I’d certainly like to meet and speak with him myself….”
Ian spoke in a measured tone, but Seol Jihoo shook his head.
“He’s already in seclusion. He has no wish to emerge again.”
“Then there’s no help for it. Even so, this is extraordinary aid.”
Ian acquiesced. The man who had been watching fell silent for a moment, then opened his mouth.
“I acknowledge this is a sound approach. But it carries risk. What if it’s a trap?”
“I understand what you’re getting at.”
Ian cut him off.
“Once was enough for recklessness. I’ll verify this carefully before we proceed. Don’t worry—I’m skilled enough to determine the truth of it, at least.”
At that assurance, the man withdrew without protest. Ian continued.
“What we need to worry about now is something else. The important thing is that we finally have a method worth attempting, and time is of the essence.”
Ian tore off a section of paper and handed it to Cheonji.
“The location of a hideout in the Aden Mountain Range. Can you get in touch with the Royal House and ask them to conduct a search?”
“There’s no need to contact the Royal House.”
With practiced grace, Cheonji seized the paper and turned toward the door.
“We have plenty of fast movers ourselves. Three or four days will be more than enough.”
“Regardless, please hurry.”
Cheonji vanished as suddenly as she had appeared. Ian watched the direction she had gone, then turned back to Seol Jihoo with a flushed, animated face.
“You’ve earned yourself a merit.”
“I wouldn’t say so, sir. It’s premature to speak of merit.”
Seol Jihoo answered humbly.
“I disagree.”
Ian sighed. He regretted deeply. If only they had possessed this information during the first operation.
“And Ludium on top of everything else… If this goes well, we might succeed with ease. Any thanks I offer would be insufficient.”
“We can’t afford optimism. There are many variables in this operation.”
That was true. But their position was immensely better than it had been before the first infiltration. In a sense, Seol Jihoo had already discharged his duty admirably.
Ian hesitated, exchanged a glance with Cho Hong, then spoke.
“Well… Seol?”
“Yes?”
“I intend to report this matter to the Royal House, regardless of the outcome. Whether we succeed or fail.”
“?”
“Of course, if we succeed, I’ll see you receive First Class Merit. No one will have their name placed above yours—except for that hermit Mage, naturally.”
Seol Jihoo tilted his head, uncertain what the old man was driving at.
“What I mean is…”
Ian opened his mouth with difficulty.
“…what you’ve already done is enough.”
Now Seol Jihoo understood. Ian was saying there was no need for him to participate further.
“Am I in the way?”
Ian hesitated, then shook his head gravely.
Strictly speaking, he wasn’t in the way. The operation hinged on the Transportation Magic Gate and Ludium; it was focused on rescue, not combat. Its rapid execution meant the Festina Earring could be put to excellent use.
Beyond that, Seol Jihoo was a member of Carpe Diem, so his participation had ample justification. And invoking his role as the architect of the plan made refusal difficult. Most of all, without any Earthians volunteering, they were desperately short-handed.
“As long as you won’t be a hindrance.”
Seol Jihoo tucked the Ludium into his chest pouch. The meaning of that gesture was unmistakable. Ian managed a wry smile.
“So you’re going, then.”
“I want to go.”
“You’re a curious one, aren’t you…”
Ian shook his head slowly.
“If that’s what you truly want, I won’t stop you. But you need to be careful.”
He sighed and turned his attention to the paper. Seol Jihoo nodded in acknowledgment.

Four days after Cheonji’s prediction, word came that a hideout had been discovered in the Aden Mountain Range. After confirming the coordinates via communication crystal, Ian approved the operation following a careful review.
Six people were to be rescued in total.
Level 4: Richard Hugo
Level 5: Ayase Yui
Level 5: Edward Dylan
Level 6: Erica Laurence
Level 5: Ibrahim Ali
Level 5: Theresa Hasse
The rescue team was assembled quickly, but the number of participants was limited to six. The assumption was that all six would be successfully rescued, and the weight capacity of the Transportation Magic Gate could not be exceeded on the return journey.
Of course, there was a method of sending people in multiple trips, but it presented a problem.
Magic power was insufficient.
The number six was the result of Ian’s calculations over several days. To be frank, merely maintaining it for thirty minutes was enough to worry about backlash. Ian had decided it was better to minimize the number of people rather than shave away the already insufficient time.
The rescue team’s composition was as follows: Ian, who would activate and maintain the Transportation Magic Gate; then Seol Jihoo and Cho Hong, tasked with infiltrating the hideout.
The remaining three participants were a Level 5 upper-rank Archer, a Level 4 Warrior, and a Level 4 Priest—the latter serving as Heather.
Since the mission was clear, participation was never forced. Only volunteers were accepted—those with deep connections to the rescue targets, those whose will to succeed burned brightest.
Once the operation was approved, a couple of the team members showed signs of impatience. But Ian would not be rushed. Speed had its place, but having been shattered on a previous mission, he had become cautious to an extreme.
So, based on the information Seol Jihoo had provided, Ian mapped out multiple contingencies and ran through sufficient simulations before the team departed for the Aden Mountain Range.

The hideout was concealed ingeniously in a ravine beneath the mountain range—a space roughly the size of a modest one-room apartment. Nothing else was visible; all that existed was a square platform inscribed with an array of geometric patterns—the magic gate itself.
Although only six people would enter directly, the support contingent was substantial. Since the physical condition of those six remained unknown, a camp had been established for emergencies. A practicing physician had even been invited, and with escort personnel added, the space bustled with activity.
“Think of this gate as an automatic rotating door.”
Ian opened his mouth to speak.
“The moment it activates, the door begins to turn slowly. You have thirty minutes to finish your business and return swiftly. If you don’t, the door will close and you won’t be able to get back inside.”
Once closed, the door would not open again for seventy-two hours. It was something they’d heard exhaustively during the strategy meeting.
“Shall we begin preparations? Are you mentally ready?”
“Yes.”
The Archer serving as Heather answered.
“Once you’re inside, what did I say you should do first?”
“Scout the surroundings, and then choose between holding position, hiding, or retreating.”
“Good. Remember this: no matter what circumstances you face, if the situation looks unfavorable, I won’t hesitate to bring everyone back.”
Having made this clear warning, Ian stepped inside and slowly bent at the waist.
“It will take some time for me to activate the gate with my power. Stay loose, move around lightly. Just don’t wander too far.”
But Seol Jihoo remained motionless. He gripped his spear tightly, staring fixedly at the magic gate. His heart thundered in his chest, and he could not move.
He had been the one to say he would go. Even now, if he wanted, he could back out. But rather than be consumed by fear,
‘It’s just like standing in front of the Mission Board.’
Recalling that familiar feeling, he activated the Nine Eyes. Then the ashen platform slowly began to shift in color.
‘Yellow!’
Seol Jihoo clenched his fists tightly. Of course, he had to be sufficiently cautious about his choice. One small mistake or wrong decision, and the color would shift to crimson, red, or black in an instant.
But in any case, what he saw now was yellow. Considering that he was entering an enemy’s lair, this was proof that success was not hopelessly impossible.
As he turned off the Nine Eyes and steeled his resolve within, a pale, gaunt man with cold wind seeming to radiate from him approached. Seol Jihoo had seen him a few times during the strategy meetings—a handsome man with a sharp expression and piercing eyes. He was also a Level 5 Archer and served as Heather for the rescue team.
“Thank you.”
The moment the man spoke, he bowed in gratitude, and Seol Jihoo blinked in surprise.
“Thanks to you, we can at least make the attempt. If we can truly bring her back, I’ll reward you handsomely.”
“We’re in the same boat. It’s nothing. I take it this person is very important to you?”
At the conventional question, the Archer hesitated.
“My younger sister. Ayase Yui.”
“Why didn’t she stay with you?”
“I told her from the start not to go. But she got caught up in achievement points and went off on her own without permission…”
The man’s eyes narrowed. He let out a sigh, then shook his head.
“Anyway, I’m heading the rescue team and Ian is leading, but… I intend to take your opinions into account as much as possible.”
Seol Jihoo didn’t know what to say, so he kept his mouth closed. He had never met someone who spoke so directly.
“You’re the one who proposed this operation, and you have Ludium. Plus, I hear you’ve achieved quite a bit of merit before…”
As he was about to say more, his eyes flickered past the young man’s shoulder, and he abruptly extended his hand.
“I’m Ayase Kazuki. Let’s do this well.”
“Seol Jihoo.”
After a light handshake, Kazuki turned away. Behind him came the rustle of fabric. Seol Jihoo glanced back, and his eyes widened. An unexpected figure stood there.
“Ah, Agnes?”
“So you came after all.”
Agnes stood perfectly still, regarding him with an unflinching gaze.
“How… Weren’t you hurt? You shouldn’t be—”
“I underwent intensive treatment. I’m mobile enough, more or less.”
Now that he looked closer, her condition did seem better than before. At least she wasn’t wrapped head to toe in bandages anymore.
“Still, you haven’t fully recovered, have you? What if you suffer a setback?”
“We’ve established a medical station at the Camp. There’s no need to worry. But that said—”
Agnes’s eyes gleamed with sharp intensity.
“Are you truly going through with this?”
“Yes.”
“You could withdraw even now, if you wished.”
“You’re saying the same thing Cho Hong did.”
Seol Jihoo smiled wryly. And it was true—even after the roster was finalized, Cho Hong had given off a subtle aura of hoping he’d step back. She’d never said it outright, but he’d felt the weight of it clearly enough.
“I’m simply curious, that’s all.”
Agnes pushed her glasses up slowly and continued.
“Now that I think about it, you behaved similarly in the Neutral Zone before.”
‘Did I?’
“Why?”
In truth, Seol Jihoo had no clear answer to give, even to himself.
He understood why everyone kept suggesting he back out. A Level 2 Warrior wasn’t equipped for this, and it was dangerous. If he hadn’t shown results so far, he wouldn’t have been allowed to join in the first place, regardless of who proposed it.
But beyond that pragmatic concern, what Agnes was truly curious about cut deeper.
Ian participated out of responsibility. Cho Hong participated out of loyalty. Ayase Kazuki participated for kinship, and the others each had personal reasons proportional to that—reasons compelling enough to stake their lives on the rescue operation.
“Whether you go or not, the compensation is guaranteed anyway, so it’s not greed. And you haven’t built up a long relationship with Carpe Diem like Cho Hong has. So why are you volunteering?”
“Because I don’t want to back out.”
The words tumbled out of Seol Jihoo’s mouth without thought. When Agnes’s eyes widened, he quickly added more.
“I just… I don’t know. But your reasoning sounded to me like compromise, and I didn’t like how that felt.”
“Not at all. And compromise isn’t always bad.”
“That’s just how I see it.”
He waved his hand, glossing over the matter. There were things even Agnes couldn’t know about.
‘Because my feelings tell me to go.’
That was it.
If he spoke the truth, Seol Jihoo hated compromise. Or rather, he’d come to hate it after the dream. It was because of gambling.
Knowing it was wrong. Knowing this wasn’t the way. Knowing he’d made a mistake. Yet thinking ‘just one more time, just once more, just one more time, and once more again’—endlessly compromising until he’d ended up broken.
It was the same now. He knew he didn’t need to go. He knew he’d done enough. He knew that if he kept overstepping like this, he might taste something scorching someday.
But Gula had said it: the future doesn’t change easily. It would require tremendous hardship and effort. Enough to break through limits.
It was an instinctive feeling. The moment he thought ‘I’ve already made this situation happen, so backing out should be fine, right? Nobody would blame me’—he sensed he’d compromise again somewhere down the line.
The first time is hard, but the second time is easy. If he kept compromising in each new situation like this, then eventually… the thought struck him with sharp clarity: he’d plateau. He’d be drawing his own lines and setting his own limits.
That’s why Seol Jihoo refused to compromise with himself, at least when it came to feelings. He’d decided he wouldn’t do that anymore.
In other words.
“I don’t want to live that way.”
Seol Jihoo smiled gently.
“That’s all there is to it.”
…….
Agnes didn’t look convinced. But she was in no position to stop him. Eventually, she closed her eyes and nodded in acceptance.
“…I understand.”
After a brief silence, she spoke again.
“If your resolve is that firm, there’s something I should tell you.”
Agnes’s tone grew solemn. She suddenly pulled her shirt up.
Startled by the abrupt exposure, Seol Jihoo fumbled in confusion—then his eyes narrowed. He saw the wound on her ribs. Though the flesh was growing back now, the depth of the gash made it clear this had been a grave injury.
“When we first engaged in combat, I hadn’t abandoned hope.”
Agnes continued, having shown him the scar.
“Though numerous Mutated Orcs came at us, they weren’t particularly difficult opponents.”
Agnes’s tone was far too matter-of-fact to be an excuse. She was simply conveying facts in a quiet voice.
“But one thing I can say with certainty: during that battle, I never let my guard down for a moment. I kept my full attention sharp, watching in all directions.”
As her voice grew gradually softer, Seol Jihoo found himself leaning in to listen.
“One step.”
Agnes spoke.
“One shot… is that what you mean?”
Seol Jihoo asked for clarification.
“I can’t describe it any other way.”
Agnes shook her head.
“I heard a sound like a gunshot, and everything went white. When I came to, there was a hole in my ribs.”
Agnes pointed to the wound. Seol Jihoo swallowed hard.
“I barely survived thanks to the Priest’s timely spell. But even Cure Colossal Wounds couldn’t fully heal it. That was the first attack I’ve felt that came close to death in a long time.”
“Even Cure Colossal Wounds couldn’t?”
Cure Colossal Wounds—the signature sacred spell of the High Priestess, one of the highest-ranked healing-specialist classes. It’s such an advanced spell that when Maria used it as a sacrifice, she collapsed afterward.
And yet she would have cast it immediately after the injury, and it still couldn’t heal her completely? It was unbelievable.
Then a murmuring sound reached them. Bright light crawled slowly along the ground. Ian had activated the gate.
“We should get moving.”
Agnes slowly lowered her shirt.
“Thank you for the warning.”
“Don’t forget. Watch out for sniping.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. See you in thirty minutes.”
With a quick farewell, Seol Jihoo hurried forward. He took the large shield being offered to him and stepped into the gate.
Soon, centered around a Priest and a Mage, four Warriors and an Archer formed a line with shields at the front, surrounding them on all sides. Ian slowly rose to his feet in the center of the gate.
“We’re ready. We’ll move in fifty seconds, so speak now if you have anything to say.”
“Don’t say such unlucky things! Just go already!”
Cho Hong snapped irritably.
People gathered around the gate. Seol Jihoo began counting silently. As he numbered off each second, unsure where to look, his eyes stayed fixed on Agnes. Her expression—neither reassuring nor without worry—gave him an inexplicable sense of calm.
’41, 42….’
As they approached fifty seconds, the gate burned with increasingly intense light.
’47, 48.’
Moments passed.
’49, 50!’
The instant he reached fifty,
Whoooosh!
The gate blazed, and the world spun with it. Countless voices blurred in his ears, and his vision turned pure white. In the sensation of being endlessly pulled forward, he tried desperately not to lose his grip on the shield.
Then came a sharp tug below his navel, and everything around him went black.

(To be continued in the next episode)

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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