1.
“What’s going on?” Buja emerged from the dungeon with nothing on his mind but a long, hot soak. The sight of Seora’s beautiful face was so dazzling it instantly erased a week’s worth of exhaustion. After seven days of staring at the featureless faces of scorpions and the gaping, tooth-filled maws of sandworms, her presence was a balm to his soul. A genuine, happy greeting escaped him before he could stop it.
“Is there some way to know from the outside when a dungeon’s been cleared? Your timing is perfect. You weren’t waiting for me, were you?”
It was just human nature. See someone often enough, and you start to grow fond of them. Seora had shown him nothing but kindness under the guise of being his biggest fan, so of course his feelings toward her were positive. He wasn’t foolish enough to get his hopes up, but he had enough nerve to tease a beautiful woman.
“Ah.”
Seora came to her senses a beat too late, just as flustered as he was. Buja had appeared at the most dramatic moment possible, a coincidence so perfect it felt scripted. She didn’t entertain silly thoughts like ’a trick of fate’, but a genuine smile spread across her face. She was truly glad to see him. A pang of guilt followed, an apology for the flicker of doubt she’d felt after Sijun’s taunts—the thought that he might actually be dead.
Overwhelmed with relief, she acted on instinct.
“Whoa—”
“I’m so glad you made it back alive,” she whispered, her arms wrapping around him.
The unexpected warmth of her body, the soft pressure against his chest, the warm breath on his neck, the faint, floral scent of her hair... The slime from the Scorpion King and the sandworm was smearing all over her pristine white dress, but he wasn’t about to do something as foolish as push her away. ’She’s loaded; she can buy another one,’ he thought. ’When in my life will I ever get a chance like this again?’ He decided to be selfish for once. He returned the hug, gently patting her back.
“Doesn’t feel like a dream,” he murmured. He’d already collected his rewards inside the dungeon, but this felt like the real prize.
After a long moment, Seora stepped back, her smile radiant.
“You worked hard. You really are something else, Buja.”
“I try to live up to the name,” he quipped. Sadly, that was the end of the physical contact. “Your dress is ruined. What are you going to do?”
“It’s fine. It wasn’t expensive,” she said, her eyes a mixture of relief and admiration.
As they walked together, he offered, “I’m off to soak in a hot bath. Care to join?”
“I’ll consider it if we ever get married,” she retorted playfully.
Leaving the restricted area, Buja’s gaze met Sijun’s once more. The man was still standing there, his eyes wide with disbelief and simmering with an anger Buja couldn’t comprehend. ’What’s his deal?’ Why was this guy staring at him with such intensity? Unaware of the situation, Buja paused, sizing him up. He was decked out in some impressive armor and weapons, clearly a User. But if he was a User, why was he loitering outside a dungeon someone else had just cleared?
“Don’t mind him, Buja. Let’s just go,” Seora urged from his side.
“Ah!” Realization dawned. “He must be with the dungeon cleanup crew.”
“W-what?” Sijun sputtered.
A well-equipped User flanked by a few guards—it was a scene ripe for misinterpretation.
’Pfft.’ Seora couldn’t hold back a laugh at his wild guess, but she didn’t correct him. Instead, she shot Sijun a look dripping with ridicule.
“He’ll handle the post-clear settlement properly. He’s a man of his word. He might even salvage a Special-grade ring for you.”
That’s when Buja noticed something was off. It wasn’t impossible for a Special-grade item to drop in a Unique Dungeon, but it was incredibly rare, usually from a boss or a hidden chest. He hadn’t found any in the last week. Yet Seora spoke with absolute certainty, her mocking gaze fixed on the man before them. He didn’t know what was going on, but he decided to play along.
“Well then, I’ll be in your care.” He extended his hand. Sijun took it, his expression sour. As their hands met, Buja’s eyes were drawn to the man’s palm. “Oh, that’s a nice-looking ring you’ve got there.”
Sijun, now demoted to the dungeon cleanup crew, watched them walk away. He clenched his fist.
“Wait!”
A decision had to be made.
* * *
As the three of them stood in a tense standoff, Seora quickly explained everything—why she was there, who Sijun was, and the reason for his battle-ready appearance.
“Ah, that explains it,” Buja said. “I thought his gear was a bit too good for the cleanup crew.”
“I’m sorry,” Seora said quietly.
“Don’t be.” Learning a bet had been placed on his success didn’t offend him in the slightest. How could it? “Feel free to make bets like that anytime. A 9.4 million dollar Special-grade item? You weren’t going to keep it; you bet it on my behalf. What’s there to be upset about?” In fact, he was thrilled. “You were so worried about what that creep would do if you lost that you were ready to throw yourself at me the second I appeared. Please, make as many of these bets as you want.”
’Pfft.’
Ultimately, this whole spectacle was thanks to Sijun. Buja’s gaze drifted back to the ring.
“That must be it.”
Sijun’s hand instinctively shot behind his back.
Buja smirked. “Too bad for you. Looks like you tried to pull a fast one on Seora, but I cleared the dungeon and all you did was bruise your massive ego.”
He didn’t know Sijun personally, but he knew of the SJ Guild. He wasn’t foolish enough to demand a 9.4 million dollar ring from the youngest son of the SJ Group just because of a lost bet. This was between Seora and Sijun. It would be absurd for him to interfere directly, especially since a verbal agreement could be broken at any time.
So, he had to go for the jugular: his pride. Forcing a situation where Sijun had no choice but to hand over the prize was child’s play for someone who’d dealt with countless wealthy pricks. In games or in reality, men were all the same. They’d rather die than look petty in front of a woman they wanted.
“A fast one?” Sijun bristled.
The bait was taken. Buja pressed on, unconcerned. “The SJ Guild is dripping with money and political connections, so I’m sure this was all a verbal agreement. No contract, no recording. If you decided not to pay up, Seora would have no recourse. On the other hand, if I had died in that dungeon, you would have used recovering my items as an excuse to enforce the ‘deal’ and pressure her into whatever you wanted, dragging it out as long as it took.”
It was such a perfect synopsis he wondered if he’d missed his calling as a novelist. Seora nodded, playing along beautifully.
“He might have. Honestly, I never expected to collect. I just made the bet hoping that if he had any shame, he’d finally stop harassing me.”
It was a childishly simple trap, but Sijun couldn’t see a way out.
“I’ll give it to you!” he snarled, pulling the beautiful, blue Special-grade ring from his finger. “But!”
Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.
“I need to see it with my own eyes.” His suspicious gaze was a flat denial of Buja’s accomplishment. The dungeon was cleared; that was an undeniable fact. But he could still cast doubt.
“Go on in,” Buja said with a shrug. The gate was still open. Sijun could easily verify that the dungeon was empty.
Predictably, Sijun shook his head.
“You could have slipped out early.”
There was no reasoning with a man blinded by his own narrative. Seeing Buja’s ‘what do you want from me’ expression, Sijun proposed his solution.
“Solo clear another Unique Dungeon right in front of my eyes. Do that, and I’ll hand it over without another word.”
“You want to enter a dungeon with me?”
“If you’re not confident, I’ll consider the bet rigged and declare it void,” Sijun said, his eyes locked on Seora. It was his last card. His pride wouldn’t let him back out of the bet, but he couldn’t stand the thought of just giving up.
Before answering, Seora looked at Buja. It was her problem, after all. Being the subject of the bet was humiliating enough, but it could also force her into an unwanted association. The fact that she looked to him for the final decision spoke volumes.
Buja’s shoulders squared. He took a single step, placing himself between Sijun and Seora.
“Deal,” he said coolly. “But let’s add one more thing.”
“What...”
“Since you’re tackily changing this to a best two-out-of-three, you’ll add another Special-grade earring to the pot. And you’ll stop harassing Seora. Permanently. Deal?”
“That’s ridiculous—”
“Don’t like it? Fine, you petty bastard. Let’s go, Seora.” A smirk twisted his lips as he took her hand and turned his back without a second thought. The decisiveness of the move—the willingness to walk away from a 9.4 million dollar prize—left Sijun speechless. He couldn’t even muster the anger to respond to the insult. As their backs grew smaller, he realized he was out of time. He took a step forward.
“D-deal!” he shouted.
At the sound of his voice, Buja and Seora stopped. When Buja turned back, his expression was once again a pleasant smile.
“Alright then. Pick a dungeon and a date and let us know. Give me about three days to rest. I won’t ask for the ring upfront; I know you wouldn’t give it to me anyway. But since you might try to welch again, you’ll give the ring and the earring to Seora on the day of the clear. If I die, you can just get them back from her after you finish it.”
“Fine,” Sijun ground out. ’Did I just get played?’ He nodded, his face a mask of displeasure. Things had gone exactly as Buja wanted, and he hated it.
’He’ll just die in the next dungeon anyway,’ Sijun fumed internally. He still couldn’t accept the solo clear. There was no video, no witnesses. Dungeons were perfect for that.
“Ah,” Buja added, “and don’t take that ‘petty bastard’ thing to heart. I only said it because I mistook you for the kind of petty bastard who’d make a bet with an item you never intended to give up, just to get your way with a woman.”
As Buja waved and finally left with Seora, Sijun made a silent vow.
“I swear I’ll see that smug bastard’s face get smashed in with my own two eyes.” He took a handkerchief from a subordinate and wiped the slime from his hand. “That last wave... it felt like he was waving at the ring, not me, right?”
He really, really didn’t like him.
* * *