Chapter 33: The Transmigrator is Korean (1)
The next day came.
It was the 50th day since Artier had come to this world.
The ever-peaceful morning of Pons began to change, starting with someone's bewildered voice.
“You wish to obtain…… slime ooze?”
“That's right.”
“Excuse me, but may I ask what you will be using it for?”
When the Mercenary Guild receptionist asked back in a flustered voice, Gerard hardened his expression and said.
“Is there a need to know the reason why a client is looking for an item?”
“Ah, no. It was just personal curiosity. I apologize.”
The receptionist immediately lowered his eyes and began to write out the request form.
He reminded himself once again that the person before him could easily cut him down.
“Slime is a low-grade monster, so the request will be completed by tomorrow at the latest. We will notify you via the dedicated communication line once the request is complete.”
“Understood.”
It was common for even mercenaries to go through requests for materials that were troublesome to acquire like this.
However, the reason Gerard commissioned the request this time was to adhere to the principle of being on a break.
‘Artier, really. I told him to rest, but he can't rest for a moment.’
Gerard stopped walking and looked up at the sky.
There, the light of people using the teleport gate continued to shine.
“……Well, I can't just be playing around either.”
Thinking of the Grimoire, Gerard turned his steps toward the lodge.
***
In the meantime, Artier and Collie had arrived at an unfamiliar place.
“So Gnolls appear in this town?”
“According to Gerard-ssi's words, yes.”
Collie and Artier looked around and immediately entered a familiar building.
It was because this town also had a Mercenary Guild.
“Gnoll subjugation……. Ah, here it is.”
“It's not just there. There are a lot of them.”
“This place seems to be plagued by Gnolls.”
Artier, who was looking through the request forms, tore off one that seemed to have a party available.
If he had his way, he would go alone, but unfortunately, every single request had the exact same condition attached.
[Viewing quest.]
The town's librarian has requested the subjugation of Gnolls for personal revenge. You must deal with the Gnolls coming down from the west, regardless of type, and cut off the Gnoll's right ear as proof.
Quest Conditions: Proceed with a party of 4-8 members
Reward on Acceptance: 3 silver coins per Gnoll killed (up to 18 silver coins)
To be carried out as a party.
As if it were a joke, this phrase was written on all the request forms.
“Why a party of four or more?”
“Gnolls are organized monsters, so hunting them alone is said to be very difficult. Since mercenaries keep dying, the residents who put in the requests started to set restrictions.”
“I can accept that, but it's a hassle……”
When he handed the torn request form to the receptionist, the receptionist checked Artier's identity and froze in shock.
“A S-Supreme-Grade Mercenary, why take on such a request?”
Supreme-Grade Mercenary.
At those words, the gazes of all the mercenaries in the Mercenary Guild focused on Artier.
‘Right. It felt like this.’
Artier, muttering to himself, said with a calm expression.
“It's a secret.”
“……Yes. Understood.”
What could he do when a Supreme-Grade Mercenary said it was a secret?
The receptionist carefully stamped the request form.
“The waiting party is over there.”
As Artier walked in the direction the receptionist pointed, he could see the complexions of the mercenaries sitting there change.
When Artier quickly checked their information, it was a party of about level 6, all mid-grade mercenaries.
“To meet a S-Supreme-Grade Mercenary, it's a real honor……”
“Let's skip the pleasantries and get going, shall we?”
Such treatment was fresh at first, but for Artier, who had repeated the same game dozens of times, it was just a familiar sight.
Artier, who dragged them out of the village before the party members could even adjust, continued the conversation as they moved to their destination.
“A mage, an archer, and two swordsmen. Is there no healer?”
“We haven't found one yet. For now, we plan to get by with our own potions.”
“I see.”
The party's level was average. Like typical NPCs, they had only one skill each, and the quality of their equipment wasn't great either.
Of course, to be fair, the skills and equipment of Artier's party were on an abnormal level, but a relative comparison was unavoidable.
“Gnolls!”
Before long, they encountered Gnolls.
Monsters that walked on two legs and snorted steam through their noses.
“Collie.”
As the party members raised their weapons and tensed up, Artier launched himself forward lightly.
“Don't go too wild.”
“I'll try.”
[Flame Cleave activates.]
Boom!
As a crescent-shaped flame shot out from the sword, the Gnolls that had been walking out confidently screamed and were split in half.
“……What is this.”
“Three Gnolls in one blow……”
“Are we even needed?”
The party members exchanged looks with expressions of futility.
In the first place, it was strange that a fight even broke out, and it was because of the level difference.
[Lv.5 Gnoll Warrior (Low-Grade)]
Not a single one of them could properly withstand Artier's sword even once, and the occasional arrows that flew his way could be dodged with leisurely movements, so it felt like watching a fight between an adult and children.
“What are you all doing?”
“Huh?”
“We need to quickly cut the ears and dispose of the corpses to move to the next area. If we leave them like this, other beasts will be drawn by the smell of blood.”
They hurriedly took out their daggers, cut off the Gnolls' ears, and skinned them.
“……Don't tell me he brought us along just for this?”
“You got a problem? It's convenient and good for us.”
“……”
Artier had already flicked his sword clean and was surveying the surroundings.
“Master, is this right?”
Collie approached and held out a glass bottle full of red liquid to him.
[Gnoll's Blood (Normal)]
Description: Blood drawn from a Gnoll. It contains fire mana, giving it a warm and pungent scent.
“Seems right?”
When Artier lifted the glass bottle, a hot sensation was transmitted as if he were holding a hot pack.
‘Oh, it's really hot. Then what's this pungent scent?’
Without thinking, he pulled the cork and brought it to his nose.
And he froze on the spot.
“Ma-Master?”
“Buldak sauce……”
“Pardon?”
Artier reflexively stuck his finger into the glass bottle.
And before anyone could say anything, he put it in his mouth.
“Ma-Master! What are you doing?”
Naturally, seeing her master suddenly lick raw blood, Collie frowned.
But immediately after, when Artier shed tears, Collie was startled and checked his physical condition.
“Are you alright? I heard there's no poison in Gnoll's blood……”
It was a familiar taste.
The taste of a mass-produced product, so nostalgic and warm.
Why it was here was not important at all.
His instincts were screaming.
That he needed this.
“I'm going to catch every Gnoll here today.”
“Pardon?”
That day, the nearby Gnolls had to experience hell.
Screams echoed wherever Artier passed, and perhaps a rumor had spread about a murderer who wanted Gnoll's blood, as at some point, they began to flee upon spotting him.
[You have acquired the ‘Gnoll Slayer’ title.]
When fighting Gnoll-type creatures, all stats increase by 10%.
Gnolls may be terrified just by looking at you.
‘……Was there a title like this?’
Artier stared at the title that appeared before him with a dumbfounded expression.
“Master, I think it would be best to stop now.”
“Right. They're not coming out anymore.”
“Won't they run away just by sensing Master's scent now? The Gnolls here probably won't even think of attacking humans for a few months.”
“……Was I a bit too harsh?”
“Shall I speak objectively?”
“No, it's fine.”
Artier finally sheathed his sword and checked the spoils that Collie had gathered.
In over 50 glass bottles, there was plenty of reddish blood.
‘This much should last for a while.’
Perhaps the slime ooze would be insufficient, but it didn't matter at all.
If the taste was this similar, there were many ways to apply it even without the ooze.
“To think Gnoll's blood is delicious, Master's palate is truly strange.”
After receiving their share of the quest fee (of course, Artier received most of it) and leaving the Mercenary Guild, Collie spoke.
“What are you talking about?”
“I took a sniff earlier too, and my eyes and nose were running, I really thought I was going to die. The other mercenaries next to me had a similar reaction.”
“It is a stimulating taste for people from the north.”
Artier brushed it off like that.
In truth, he didn't know what southern food tasted like either.
“But I was surprised too. It was completely different from the taste of blood I was imagining.”
“I also find that strange.”
The time was slowly pointing to dinner time.
Artier rubbed his stomach and looked up at the sky; having moved around so much, his lunch had long since been digested.
“Shall we go back?”
“Sounds good.”
Trudge, trudge.
The two turned their steps toward the teleport gate.
But while walking down the street, they happened to pass through the marketplace.
“……Huh.”
And Artier smelled something familiar and stopped in his tracks.
“What is it?”
“This smell is……. No, that can't be right.”
“What smell are you talking about?”
Collie tilted his head, but Artier was already walking, following the scent that had reached the tip of his nose.
Turning down a road and entering an alley, a group of children were sitting around, encircling the entire alley, and in the center, an old woman was stirring a large cast-iron pot with a wooden spatula.
“Who might you be?”
The old woman asked with a curious expression as Artier approached, and Artier could feel wary gazes from the surrounding children.
“I have something I'm curious about. What are you boiling?”
“Ugh……. What on earth is this smell?”
Collie was already covering his nose and frowning. But regardless, Artier looked at the cast-iron pot and spoke.
“I'm sorry. Does the smell bother you that much?”
The old woman said, watching his reaction.
“I'm sorry. I'll be done soon. The children are hungry.”
“It's okay. Um, more importantly……”
When Artier checked the pot, something dark brown was boiling vigorously with potatoes and onions.
‘It's not a meat stew.’
It wasn't a common Western tomato-based meat stew or a cream stew, nor was it a clear broth where you could clearly see the ingredients.
But to Artier, it was a very familiar color.
A yellowish-brown color that could be mistaken for muddy water at first glance. And a deep, savory aroma.
‘Isn't this doenjang-guk?’