"Would you mind waiting a moment? High-end products are stored in the safe, so it will take a little time to retrieve them."

Josef said this as he guided Jangman and Dung Beetle into a luxurious room.

The room, from the entrance, exuded a faint scent of perfume, and the floor was covered with the hide of a strange beast that Dung Beetle had never seen before.

It was a room as opulent as the homes of the tycoons he occasionally saw on TV, but the moment he stepped inside, Dung Beetle frowned.

Among the perfume’s aroma... there was the unmistakable scent of blood and oil, poorly masked.

The stench was overwhelming. It was different from the horrifying smell he had experienced in Mignium's dream, but in its own way, it was just as unbearable.

Dung Beetle glanced at Josef and Jangman, but neither seemed to notice the smell.

That meant only he could smell it...

'Is it because I can manipulate mana?'

— You see what normal people cannot see, hear what they cannot hear, and smell what they cannot smell.

An explanation from an old documentary about superhumans he had once watched with his comrades floated to the forefront of his mind.

On a whim, Dung Beetle focused not on his nose, but on his ears.

— Move quickly! From the underground vault... bring it out!

— Silver bullets! If not now... we won’t have a chance to sell...

— GP... tracker! Make sure not to miss...

Faintly, he heard the footsteps and shouts of staff outside the room.

Despite hearing these sounds with his own ears, Dung Beetle tilted his head in disbelief.

'Is it really this easy?'

Enhancing one’s senses with mana was supposed to be different from simply increasing muscle strength.

The superhumans in that documentary had mentioned that it required years of training to enhance their senses.

So, what was this?

Without any significant effort, Dung Beetle could hear sounds from far away just by concentrating.

Was the documentary a lie? Or... was it Mignium’s doing?

“Still not a tea drinker, old man?”

Josef’s question interrupted Dung Beetle’s thoughts. Apparently feeling awkward during the wait, Josef had started brewing tea himself.

“A sailor like me doesn’t need tea... Water or booze will do.”

“Haha, I thought you’d say that. What about you, our esteemed guest?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. This is some excellent tea.”

Josef poured water into the teapot. Between the steam from the teapot, the fragrance of black tea filled the air.

The scent of the tea was strong enough to overpower the lingering smell of blood and oil.

Temporarily freed from the foul stench, Dung Beetle began checking his senses one by one.

Eyes, nose, ears...

As he focused on his newfound senses, and Josef finished his cup of tea, time passed.

— Clank!

The door opened, and ten subordinates entered the room carrying various bags.

“Haha, I’m sorry for making you wait so long. I guarantee that the wait was worth it.”

Josef’s subordinates swiftly set up a temporary stage. They installed a platform, lighting fixtures, and lined up ten boxes.

Josef rose from his seat and stood with his back to the arranged boxes. He bowed exaggeratedly, like a home shopping host, greeting Jangman and Dung Beetle.

“Shall we start with guns?”

He opened the bag on the far left and began explaining.

“It’s always best to start with something light, right? The M231! A modified version of the M16, familiar to any Korean.”

Inside the bag was a rifle that looked like a shortened version of the M16 assault rifle, with a barrel no longer than a forearm.

“Small and light, but deadly. There’s a reason why more than a hundred wizards have been killed by this bad boy throughout history. Familiar grip, reliable performance—perfect for sneaking a bullet into the back of a wizard’s head.”

Josef continued his cheerful explanation like a true TV host. He demonstrated a shooting stance, then quickly disassembled the gun to show its inner workings.

Watching Josef, who seemed genuinely excited, Jangman sighed and interrupted him.

“Josef.”

“Yes, sir? What’s the matter?”

“He’s never served.”

Josef’s face briefly twisted, but he quickly regained his composure, smiling as if the previous expression had been a lie.

“So, you’ve never received shooting training...?”

“...No.”

“Ah, then there’s no need to use military equipment.”

As soon as he heard Dung Beetle’s response, Josef signaled to his subordinates, who immediately and efficiently removed the first six bags from the room without a word of complaint.

Six of those bags had contained military gear?

Looking at the remaining four bags, Dung Beetle, for the first time, regretted not having military experience.

“Don’t be too disappointed. The best is always saved for last, after all. These remaining weapons are far superior to the earlier military supplies.”

Perhaps trying to lift the mood, Josef immediately opened the seventh bag.

Inside was a gun slightly larger than an adult’s forearm.

It wasn’t quite a pistol, but it wasn’t a rifle either.

“A Remington MH750. A modified pump-action shotgun designed for anti-magic use.”

Shotgun? Seeing Dung Beetle’s interest, Josef elaborated.

“Silver bullets are expensive, but there’s no more effective weapon against the undead raised by necromancers. Even a child could use and reload this easily.”

Josef demonstrated loading the gun. It held only three rounds, but each shell was packed with a staggering number of pellets.

Seeing Dung Beetle’s curiosity, Josef grinned and opened the next bag.

“Next is the EK-33 grenade. One of the finest creations of the U.S. military, perfect for non-professionals.”

Inside this bag were grenades, each the size of a fist, lined up in neat rows.

“If you throw this over the wall of zombies and onto the necromancer’s head, you’ll literally see them ‘die happy.’”

Having introduced the modified shotgun and grenades, Josef stood before the ninth bag. He paused for a moment before speaking.

“Now, let me show you something a little more special.”

Clank! The lock on this bag was much heavier than those of the previous ones.

And inside, the weapon it contained was unlike anything shown before.

A sword.

In the box lay a long iron sword.

“During the last war, this was issued to imperial knights. It contains a rare mineral that can’t be found on Earth.”

“...”

“To ordinary people, it’s just a sturdy iron sword, but when cutting through a mage’s shield, it’s as powerful as a bazooka.”

Josef continued explaining, but Dung Beetle couldn’t take his eyes off the sword.

Was it because it was beautiful? Because he coveted it? No, that wasn’t it.

That sword was identical to the one used by a Player.

It wasn’t just a similar sword.

The image of the Player wielding an identical sword was burned into his retina like a brand.

“Supplied to imperial knights...?”

A clue to the Player he was hunting.

Facing this unexpected stroke of luck, Dung Beetle made up his mind. No matter what, he had to buy that sword.

“You seem to like the sword quite a lot. Well, there’s something special about weapons from beyond the dimensional gate that Earth weapons can’t match.”

Had Josef misunderstood Dung Beetle’s gaze? He smiled as if the deal had already been closed.

“If you like this, you’ll probably love the final item.”

Josef approached the last bag.

This one was long and horizontal, like a sword case.

For some reason, Josef didn’t immediately open the bag. He exchanged a brief glance with Jangman.

Jangman gave a slight nod, and with that signal, Josef opened the final bag.

Fwoosh! Smoke rose as the bag opened, revealing... a stick?

The ivory-colored stick had something resembling a carved horse's head at each end, and its body was decorated with a patterned engraving.

It looked more like an intricate piece of art than a weapon.

“Don’t let its appearance fool you. The true value of this item lies elsewhere.”

Josef didn’t touch the object himself. He raised his hand, and a subordinate approached, slipping white gloves onto Josef’s hands.

This didn’t seem like a mere show. Josef’s expression was dead serious as he carefully lifted the stick.

“This was crafted by a master dwarf. It was supposed to be the handle for an axe or hammer, but unfortunately, Stalin released poison gas in Mt. Gubong, so only the handle was completed.”

A handle? Now Dung Beetle understood why the stick looked the way it did. At the same time, a question arose.

Why is a handle considered a weapon?

As if answering his unspoken question, Josef continued.

“However, because it’s a relic from the Mt. Gubong era, it holds immense value even on its own. Would you like to try holding it?”

Josef carefully handed the stick to Dung Beetle.

Dung Beetle hesitated, unsure if he should hold such a precious item without gloves, but refusing seemed even stranger, so he grabbed the stick.

And at that moment, something spoke in Dung Beetle’s mind.

[An untouched virgin who’s never held hands with a woman. But your soul reeks of corpses and fire. Have you been cursed?]

Startled, Dung Beetle looked at Josef, who grinned, showing his gums.

“Did you hear the voice? You must be a superhuman. I figured as much since you’re with the old man.”

So he expected me to be a superhuman? It was a curious statement, but Dung Beetle’s attention was more focused on the stick.

“What exactly is this?”

“The material is unicorn horn.”

“...”

“No one knows how it was made, but the thoughts of the unicorn are embedded in the horn. That’s why it sometimes speaks to those who can wield mana.”

“So... it’s a haunted object?”

“It also provides resistance to all sorts of toxins and pollution.”

Josef boasted as he explained.

“It may not block radiation or hydrochloric acid, but it’s incredibly effective against mana-based poisons and curses. I guarantee it’s more valuable than ten priests against a necromancer.”

The stick, apparently displeased with Josef’s explanation, added in Dung Beetle’s mind.

[Do not be mistaken, virgin. There is no contamination that my sacredness cannot block! I do not know what radiation is, but I assure you, I can block it as well.]

Dung Beetle glanced between the stick and Josef. Before the stick could repeat its “virgin” line, Dung Beetle quickly handed it back to Josef.

“How do you like it? These items I’ve shown you are more than enough to handle any necromancer.”

The modified shotgun, grenades, the anti-magic sword, and the unicorn’s horn.

Even with his basic knowledge of necromancers, Dung Beetle could tell that all these weapons were exceptionally effective against them.

The problem was...

“I’m not sure if I can afford all four.”

“Haha, don’t worry too much about the price. I wouldn’t dream of overcharging the old man’s guest.”

Though it sounded like he had no problem overcharging other customers, Dung Beetle didn’t bother pointing that out.

“I’ll give you all four weapons. The price will be both of the money bags you first offered. How does that sound?”

Josef grinned widely.

“In exchange, I’ll make sure to throw in plenty of grenades and bullets.”

Without flinching, Josef asked for Dung Beetle’s entire fortune.

Dung Beetle considered negotiating but, after glancing at Jangman sitting next to him, he dismissed the thought.

If it weren’t for Jangman, he wouldn’t even be here.

Since Jangman had made the introduction without saying a word, Dung Beetle haggling over the price would only undermine his honor.

“Both money bags, agreed.”

“Haha, as expected! You’re truly the old man’s guest!”

Dung Beetle placed the bag he was carrying on the floor. He also promised to have someone deliver the second bag, which wasn’t currently with him.

It was enough money to live comfortably for several years, but... he didn’t feel any regret.

What mattered to him wasn’t the money.