The Storage Ring was warm and cool on my finger, a silent promise of hidden power. I shifted my focus from the grunt work of the Mission Board to the intricate network of the Guild Workshop. The Workshop was the heart of the Guild's operational knowledge—where gear was forged, artifacts were analyzed, and, more importantly, where hunters talked freely, believing their conversations were shielded by the din of the forge.
The official reason for my visit was legitimate: Equipment Repair Access—the Rank E benefit. My knife had a chipped edge from a swift, brutal encounter with a Tunnel Serpent during the grind.
I walked into the massive, echoing space. It reeked of heated metal, ozone, and monster ichor. Sparks flew from the forging pits, and the rhythmic thud-thud of hammers against steel provided perfect cover for secrets.
My goals were clear:
Identify the Strongest Hunter: Confirm the current champion of Vigan—the King—and assess if his rank and power level had shifted since my past life's timeline.
Verify Dungeon Lore: Check for discrepancies in the Guild's official lore regarding Dungeon Spawn Times and Color/Rank Codes. My rebirth had changed the past; this would reveal how significantly.
---
I approached the repair counter, manned by a burly, sweaty blacksmith named Mang Teban. I presented my chipped knife and my Rank E license.
"Another one," Mang Teban grunted, barely looking up. "Five days. Come back next week."
"I have the Scrip now, Mang Teban," I said smoothly, laying down triple the standard repair fee. "And I don't need it perfect. Just a serviceable edge. I have a backlog of missions. I aim to hit Rank D before the week is out."
The overpayment worked. Mang Teban's eyes narrowed, registering the unusual ambition of a Rank E. He moved my knife up his mental queue. This gave me the time I needed.
---
I didn't ask direct questions. I used the time waiting to mimic the common behavior of a highly ambitious, slightly naive new hunter—eavesdropping while pretending to listen to the foreman's instructions.
I positioned myself near a trio of Rank B hunters who were bickering over a failed raid.
Hunter 1 (Frustrated): "...We barely got out. That Crimson Ghoul hit harder than anything I've fought since that A-Rank expedition two years ago. I swear, the monsters are getting tougher."
Hunter 2 (Cynical): "It's the new order, idiot. Commander Salazar just isn't around enough to scare the big ones straight. He's too busy kissing the Guild Master's ring. If The Lion was still here—"
Hunter 3 (Interrupting): "Don't even say his name, Rico. 'The Lion' is long gone. Commander Salazar is the highest we've got. Rank A, Echelon 3. He's the strongest, whether you like it or not. If a Rank S hunter ever came to Vigan, Salazar would be out of a job in a day. Until then, he's the King."
My Analysis (Internal):
Past Life Confirmation:Commander Salazar was indeed the top hunter in Vigan during my first life, a competent but politically weak A-Rank.
The Discrepancy: The mention of 'The Lion'—an S-Rank who was rumored to have visited Vigan briefly in my past timeline—was new. His presence, or lack thereof, indicated the timeline was not rigidly identical to the past. The world had adapted to my change, subtly diverting the flow of powerful individuals. Salazar's rank, however, remained the same. My path was still clear.
---
I moved to the Runology Station, where a younger Rank D hunter was nervously waiting for a rune carving to finish. I struck up a conversation disguised as an efficiency query.
"Excuse me," I said, pointing to a chart showing dungeon colors. "New here. I notice the Yellow Gates are for Rare monsters. What's the spawn rate like? We're trying to plan our next rank-up."
The Rank D hunter, flattered by the attention from a highly performing Rank E, puffed out his chest.
Rank D Hunter: "It's all scheduled, kid. Don't listen to the old whispers about random spawns. The Guild has it locked down. You finish a dungeon's Boss, and the timer starts."
He leaned in conspiratorially. "Officially, a Yellow Gate (Rare-rank) respawns the monster every 48 hours exactly. Red Gates (Epic-rank) are one full week (7 days). The Guild is tight about that info. You don't get the exact coordinates until Rank C."
My Analysis (Internal):
Past Life Knowledge: In my past life, the respawn timers were chaotic and random, often leading to unpredictable monster surges.
The Discrepancy:The Vigan Guild has engineered the dungeon spawn times and created a rigid, predictable system (48 hours/7 days). This is massive. It means the Guild Master and high-ranking hunters are farming specific dungeons on a precise schedule, ensuring maximum profit and minimizing risk. This is the structural weakness I needed. They have traded safety for predictability.
The Real Secret: The dungeon spawn timer is a lie told to the lower ranks. True high-rank hunters know a way to reset or manipulate the timer—the "chaos" I remembered. The organized schedule is a front to control low-rank movement and farming.
I collected my repaired knife, gave Mang Teban a curt nod, and walked out. Juts was waiting, silent and watchful.
"Juts," I said, the Storage Ring cool on my finger. "We are no longer simply grinding. We are optimizing. The Guild Master thinks he controls the dungeons with a timer. He's wrong. He's just created a perfect, high-efficiency farm for me. 48 hours for Rare. 7 days for Epic. We're going to exploit every second of that schedule."