The Support Ate it All

The Deep Levels of the Dungeon.

A dungeon on Floor B.

Kim Gap-doo stood with his fists lightly clenched, staring straight ahead.

At the end of his gaze, monster corpses were piled like a mountain. It was a result of the fierce battle they had just finished.

Though the battle had been a resounding victory, there was still the possibility that a few enemies were hiding, so he remained on guard, ready to react at any moment.

Rumble…

Then a sound like something collapsing rang in his ears, and the ground quivered slightly as if an earthquake had occurred.

Not far away, a teleportation portal opened.

“…It’s over.”

Which also meant the dungeon had been cleared.

Only then did Kim Gap-doo turn around, and the party members began to relax and exchange a few words.

“Phew, good job, everyone.”

“Another one down.”

“Hey, that skill combo earlier was on point.”

They were all third-year students like Kim Gap-doo.

Their classes varied from warrior, mage, archer, and support.

They belonged to different clubs, which involved a web of complicated interests, and there were plenty of rivalries among them.

But when it came to raiding dungeons, they set all that aside and formed parties based purely on efficiency.

That was the only way to clear high-risk dungeons like those of B-rank.

Of course, that didn’t mean all grudges vanished. When a raid didn’t go well, infighting could erupt.

On the flip side, when everything went smoothly, even usual rivals would get along cheerfully.

Now was obviously one of those times.

One party member grinned and expressed their thanks to Kim Gap-doo.

“Man, that strategy guide you brought really hit the mark.”

The strategy guide Kim Gap-doo had brought.

At first, everyone had been very suspicious, but the content sounded plausible, and Kim Gap-doo vouched for it strongly, so they decided to use it for the dungeon run.

The result was a huge success.

The path proposed by the strategy guide was the most efficient route for party movement, detailing everything from which monsters would pop out along the way to how best to deal with them; it was all described meticulously, down to the smallest detail.

As a result, the perceived difficulty of the dungeon dropped significantly. It felt more like tackling a C-rank dungeon rather than a B-rank one.

What’s more, thanks to collecting hidden pieces along the way, the rewards exceeded expectations.

Because of all this, the other party members swarmed around Kim Gap-doo with a barrage of questions.

“Where did you say you got that again?”

“Do you have any others?”

“How about grabbing a coffee? My treat.”

Kim Gap-doo had already explained when he first shared the guide.

That it had been sold through Dang Gyu-young by some unidentified individual.

If they could just find out who that person was and make contact or secure more guides…

Then they could continue clearing dungeons as easily and comfortably as they had today.

Information is power.

Just knowing a smoother, easier way forward lets you speak louder in a party, and you can claim a greater share of the rewards.

Naturally, the other party members were eager.

But Kim Gap-doo responded in a calm, detached tone.

“I already told you. I don’t know exactly. Dang Gyu-young recommended it, and since I’ve benefited from his help in the past, I trusted him and bought it.”

“…I see. What about asking Dang Gyu-young directly?”

“He wouldn’t say. Though I’m sure he knows more than I do.”

Another party member asked a different question.

“Still, was it okay to share something like that so easily? That guide must be worth tens of thousands of points.”

“Sharing was part of the deal. I got a discount too, of course.”

“Wait, seriously? Why?”

From Dang Gyu-young’s perspective, it would make more sense to sell it for a high price, and from Kim Gap-doo’s side, wouldn’t it be better to monopolize the info?

But the sharper ones had already guessed the reason.

It’s for publicity.

This was a promotional move.

If it’s being promoted, that means other guides definitely exist.

And that those guides will be made available one way or another.

Probably in the near future.

The party members’ eyes lit up with excitement.

Dang Gyu-young said she sold it, right?

Time to contact the Thieves Club right away.”

Similar scenes were unfolding elsewhere.

After all, Kim Gap-doo wasn’t the only one who had purchased the guide.

The rumors were snowballing fast.

***

We set aside the two random boxes we had gotten from the Rabbit Room for now.

Since I’d be heading into another random-type dungeon in a few days, it made more sense to open everything at once, including whatever I’d pick up there.

During this bit of downtime, there was something else I had to deal with.

The strategy guide.

It didn’t have enough credibility or buzz to go straight onto the auction, so to fix that, I sold a few samples to Kim Gap-doo and some of the other third-years.

It’s about time it started taking effect.

By now, they should’ve started clearing the dungeon and they’d definitely be feeling the effects of the guide.

So I checked in with Dang Gyu-young to see how things were going, and her response was exactly what I was expecting.

– Man, I’ve been getting bombarded with messages because of that thing! Where did you get it, who made it, can you hook me up…? It’s complete chaos, I’m telling you!

And with the rumors just starting to spread, it looked like attention wouldn’t be a problem going forward.

The next thing I had to think about was,

When should I release the rest of the information?

Right now, people just knew that a variety of guides existed and that they would be up for sale soon.

But only Dang Gyu-young and Jegal So-so knew the full picture. That the guides will be bundled into complete “guidebooks” and sold at auction.

Revealing that now would definitely stir up massive interest, but—

It’d be a waste to pull the trigger this early.

There had to be a better moment, one that would make an even bigger impact.

Besides, there was still one more thing to take care of.

I need to raise the credibility.

The samples had built a decent level of trust, but honestly, some doubt still lingered.

Since the guidebooks would continue to be traded even after the auction, I needed to make sure this part was almost flawless from the start.

Fortunately, I already had a plan.

It’s about time to bring an adult into this.

It was time to start working with the faculty.

I sent a message to the principal, and the reply came back right away: come now.

He didn’t even ask what it was about.

He must have a lot of free time.

Isn’t a principal usually packed with a tight schedule?

In any case, not having to wait was definitely a good sign.

I headed toward the principal’s office.

***

Just as I guessed, the principal was casually lounging in his chair, passing the time like a carefree man of leisure.

The vice principal was watching him with clear disapproval in her eyes.

As I stepped into the room, the principal waved a hand lazily in the air.

“You’re here.”

“Good afternoon.”

“Have a seat.”

Once I sat down on a nearby chair, the principal slowly stretched and shifted into a more upright posture.

Then, with a wide grin, he began.

“Wanna guess why you’re here?”

“Sure.”

“There’s been talk going around. A few guidebooks are making the rounds, and people say they’re extremely well made.”

“……”

“We did a bit of digging and traced it back to the Thieves Club, but the whole thing feels pretty different from their usual work.”

He added with a hint of pride. Like someone who’d been in this role long enough to know the patterns.

His eyes flashed for a moment.

“Which means someone’s pulling the strings behind the scenes. And lately, the person most closely associated with Dang Gyu-young… is you, isn’t it?”

“I must’ve looked suspicious.”

I nodded.

The administration’s information network was definitely impressive.

They might avoid interfering directly in student matters, but they always saw the bigger picture.

The principal asked for confirmation.

“So, you’re the one who made the guidebooks?”

“That’s right.”

“You admit it pretty easily.”

“Well, without that, the conversation can’t really go anywhere, can it?”

“…Fair enough.”

The principal looked slightly embarrassed.

In a way, it felt like I was revealing one of my cards a little too easily, but I had plenty more where that came from.

Besides, for a Hero, this kind of thing is no big deal.

It would benefit him more to stay on good terms with me than to get greedy.

That was the calculation behind my easy admission.

I got straight to the point.

“As you’ve probably guessed, the guidebooks I recently distributed were just groundwork.”

“I figured as much. Now that I think about it… what is it, two weeks? Three? The auction’s coming up, right?”

“Yes. I’m planning to put this up.”

I pulled two thick books out of my inventory.

Pre-made strategy guides.

As soon as the principal received them, he began flipping through the pages with intense focus.

Unable to contain his curiosity, the vice principal drifted over at some point and started peeking over his shoulder.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the steady rustle of pages turning.

Then, just as the principal was about to close the guidebook, I beat him to it.

“Mind if I guess what you’re about to say?”

“Go ahead.”

“These guides are incredibly useful! Would you be willing to share a copy?”

“…Bit of an exaggeration, but you’re right. How’d you know?”

“I figured you’d want it. Even if your purpose is different.”

From the principal’s or the academy’s standpoint, dungeon strategies themselves aren’t all that valuable.

After all, acquiring C-rank or B-rank items doesn’t mean much to them.

Even so, the reason they’d want the most efficient strategy guides on hand is simple:

You never know what might happen.

If something goes wrong in a dungeon where students have entered, the staff has to go in to rescue them.

Every minute, and every second counts, so they need to move with maximum efficiency.

And when it comes to chasing down villains hiding in dungeons like the Witch of Corruption or the Blood Cult Elder, these guides were equally useful.

In fact, during the Teleportation Labyrinth incident, the academy had even distributed its own set of strategies.

The principal scratched his stubbly chin.

“If you leave us a copy, we’d appreciate it. What do you want in return?”

“There are two things. Would it be alright if I told you one of them later?”

“That’s a bit suspicious. Let’s hear the other one first.”

“I’d like official certification.”

Certification that this guide was trustworthy.

Wasn’t it far more credible to get that from the administration than from dozens or even hundreds of students?

“Hmm…”

The principal fell silent for a moment, as if weighing the terms.

On one side, guaranteed strategies for dozens of dungeons.

On the other, certification, plus some future request I might make.

He’ll take it, no doubt.

They’ll have to verify the guide either way and whatever I end up asking for will still be within acceptable limits.

Sure enough, he exchanged a brief glance with the vice principal, then nodded.

“Alright. We can ask a few of the teachers. Just need it done before the auction, right?”

“Yes, that’s more than enough.”

“Then the deal’s settled.”

The vice principal immediately made and stored a copy of the guide.

Just as I was about to leave, the principal called out to me again.

“By the way, Kim Ho.”

“Yes?”

“I get the feeling what you showed us is just the tip of the iceberg.”

“I do know a bit more.”

“…Don’t tell me…. you’ve got S-rank strategies too?”

The principal’s expression turned unusually serious.

Instead of answering, I asked a question of my own.

“Are you planning to challenge one?”

“…No, forget it. You can go.”

Just like that, his face relaxed as if nothing had happened, and he waved me off.