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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: A Suitable Disciple
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A colossal city blanketed in gold.
The capital of the empire, carrying forward a new millennium of glory beyond the thousand years of past splendor.
Golden Fragrance Eldorado.
Towering in one corner of that golden city stood the Tower of the Sage.
Its master, Faust, quietly surveyed the panorama of the city.
The capital of the millennium-old empire—rotten to its core, on the verge of collapse at any moment—had been reborn by the hands of Faust and his "rogue comrade."
From a filthy den thick with the stench of decay, it had become the "Golden Fragrance," where gold from across the continent converged.
A massive city not merely gathering gold, but piled high with it.
Faust stared absently at that glittering vista when someone called out to him.
"Still moping around all by yourself like some down-and-out bum?"
An excessively casual tone for addressing history's greatest alchemist and lord of the Tower of the Sage.
Faust's gaze, fixed on the view beyond the tower, flicked sideways.
An old man with snow-white hair, just like him.
The wrinkles etched across his face bore witness to the passage of time, yet his eyes sparkled with the same fire as in his youth.
The only man on the entire continent who could speak to Faust so freely.
Faust's longtime comrade and the empire's former emperor.
At the arrival of this friend of decades, Faust subtly furrowed his brow.
"Moping? This is what they call contemplation, you dimwitted emperor."
"It's been ages since I passed the throne to my daughter, and you're the only one left calling me emperor, Faust."
Hahaha— The rogue comrade's booming laughter made Faust's eyes narrow once more.
Faust opened his mouth in an irritated tone.
"That flightiness hasn't changed a bit since your crown prince days, 'Meph'."
"Flightiness? Call it cheerfulness, my friend."
Faust let out a deep sigh at his comrade's sly retort.
From long experience, he knew better than to keep bantering—it would only pull him into the other's rhythm.
"So, what brings a retired old codger all the way out here? Need more medicine already? I just sent a fresh batch."
"Haha— Plenty of that marvelous medicine from my esteemed friend remains. Today, I simply came to check on my solitary, moping companion."
"...I must've missed the memo on when the Tower of the Sage started letting lunatics roam freely. What are the underlings even doing?"
"Don't chide your disciples too harshly. Sane men couldn't hope to stop me."
"They could've at least reported to the palace that the former emperor's lost his marbles. And for the record, they're not 'disciples'."
"Hmm. You say that so breezily—words that'd break your disciples' hearts."
"I said, not disciples."
The former emperor gave a wry smile at Faust's firm declaration.
"Such a shame. All those talents who flocked from across the continent just to serve under you..."
"I never summoned them, so no need to coddle them."
"Your cynicism endures."
The former emperor chuckled lightly before asking quietly.
"Still no intention of taking on a proper disciple?"
"Not a thought."
"...Faust. My old friend. Why not reconsider it, just once?"
Shedding his casual demeanor, the former emperor reverted to the measured tone of his imperial days and continued.
"You and I are both old now. We can't shoulder everything forever. The time has come to pass the torch. Surely you don't plan to stay in the field indefinitely?"
Faust fell silent for a moment at his comrade's subdued question.
"...With nothing but duds showing up, where would I even find a disciple?"
"You're too exacting. Who could measure up to the eyes of the world's greatest alchemist? Learn to compromise a little."
"Hmph. Mediocrity won't suffice for my disciple."
"Your perfectionism is relentless. Doesn't it wear you out?"
"Better than half-assing it and regretting later, like some people."
"Haha. Touché."
Kukuku— Faust, who had been scowling at his comrade's exaggerated laughter, finally couldn't hold back and joined in.
No matter the bickering, they were partners and friends of decades.
The very ones who had lifted the crumbling empire back to glory.
"In any case, Faust, give the disciple idea another thought. I don't want your unparalleled alchemy to die with you."
Faust nodded at the sincerity in his friend's voice.
If he put it that way, it warranted reconsideration.
Of course, "settling" was out of the question, as his friend suggested.
A disciple of Faust had to be exceptional, naturally.
At minimum, succeeding in the "Golden Transmutation (Magnum Opus)" would be the qualification.
With that in mind, Faust savored conversation with his long-unseen comrade.
"Ungh..."
Yeon Sung-hun quietly opened his eyes.
A familiar ceiling filled his vision.
Confirming that, he shifted his body.
"Ugh..."
Pain stabbed through him the moment he tried to sit up, scrunching his eyes.
The wounds from the previous rift hadn't fully healed.
No, truth be told, it was more the side effects of the potions he'd hastily concocted himself.
Rushing for maximum effect with unrefined materials, heedless of consequences—even the great Faust couldn't dodge the backlash entirely.
The other raid members were likely enduring similar agony.
At least, with no visible injuries, his sister and mother wouldn't fret.
"Hoo—."
Exhaling carefully as he rose, Sung-hun suddenly recalled the dream from before waking.
A natural smile tugged at his lips.
"I had no idea back then. Never dreamed I'd go to my grave without finding even one satisfactory disciple."
Even with luminaries from across the continent converging on him, none met Faust's standards.
Decades passed in hopes of better candidates.
In the end, Faust had breathed his last without a single disciple.
"Should've compromised, like Meph said."
Recalling his past-life friend's counsel, Sung-hun smiled wryly.
Something the perfectionist Faust would never entertain, but Sung-hun was different.
He retained memories of that life, yet he was unequivocally Yeon Sung-hun of modern Korea.
Of course, a century-plus of Faust's experiences hadn't left him untouched.
As he'd realized in the prior rift, subtle shifts had occurred.
Unseen changes might run even deeper.
Still, at his core, he remained Yeon Sung-hun.
A young man who loved his family and toiled diligently for them—an ordinary soul.
A touch extraordinary with his past-life recollections, but his personality unchanged.
Gritting through the lingering pain, he prepared to head out.
"Heading out? Thought today was your day off."
"Yeah, got some business at the Hunter Association."
"Oh? Something serious?"
He shook his head at his mother Lee Hee-yeon's question.
"Nah, nothing major. Just reissuing my hunter license."
"Huh? What happened?"
Like any mother, Lee Hee-yeon took keen interest in her son's life.
Perhaps amplified because he'd shouldered the family early due to her chronic illness.
He explained the situation without a hint of impatience.
Couldn't divulge rift specifics, but he shared that his rank had risen thanks to the successful clear.
Like a promotion at an ordinary company.
Lee Hee-yeon beamed with joy and congratulations, yet voiced her worries plainly.
Advancing as a hunter meant escalating dangers.
Seeing her face cloud with concern, he replied steadily.
"Don't worry too much. I'm your son, after all."
"...Right, my boy. Mom loves you always."
"Love you too."
Instead of sorries or thanks, they exchanged words of love.
With his mother's send-off, he stepped out.
Early morning still—his sister Yeon Hae-eun was fast asleep.
Had she been up, she'd have sought him out first, no doubt.
Recalling her delight at spending his rare day off together, Sung-hun smiled wryly.
Nothing for it but to hope Mom smoothed things over.
'Gotta load up on treats for the way back.'
Sung-hun strolled at a leisurely pace, neither hurried nor dawdling.
What Park's Raid Team endured in the rift boiled down to the Hunter Association's rank misjudgment.
Precious comrades lost, survivors plagued by aftereffects.
In light of that, the Association duly compensated them.
A modest sum of money and rank promotions for all surviving members.
Paltry recompense for lives lost, yet Park's Raid Team couldn't muster much protest.
The Association wouldn't yield regardless.
Sung-hun, for one, was quietly impressed by the payout.
Leagues better than the old empire from Faust's memories, at least.
Better to receive something than nothing.
A cynical smile crossed Sung-hun's face as he exited the Association building.
He hadn't held high hopes for their compensation to begin with.
The other members were absent, sidelined by aftereffects.
Unlike him—who'd foreseen and mitigated them somewhat—they'd suffered worse.
Regrettably, he'd only had materials enough for himself.
"Tsk."
Unwittingly clicking his tongue in an old Faustian habit, Sung-hun glanced at the new hunter license in his hand.
"D-Rank now, huh?"
D-Rank marked the threshold where most hunters were truly awakened— the real starting line.
Yet it stirred no particular thrill.
He'd already scaled peaks beyond summits, etching his name in history.
Truth be told, the rift spoils piqued his interest far more than any D-Rank card.
"Let's see how much rolled in."
Checking his mobile banking app, Sung-hun couldn't suppress a grin.
Including shares from the Violent Lizard and other monsters, a hefty sum had deposited.
Easily dozens of times his usual haul.
His shoulders shook with irrepressible glee.
Money was vital for his family—and Faust, dubbed the "Golden King," had been no stranger to gold's allure.
An influx like this was bound to elicit a smile.
How to spend it? Already decided.
His sister and mother.
One paralyzed from the waist down, the other plagued by an untreatable chronic illness.
Daunting hurdles, yet he brimmed with confidence.
He would eradicate his mother's long torment and restore his sister's ability to walk.
Not mere hope, but ironclad certainty—a foregone conclusion.
For that end, he pressed on.
First objective of the outing complete; time for the next.
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