<Lich Lv.50>
The monster’s name and level floating boldly overhead were quite threatening.
And yet, I pointed to the skeleton with an appearance that would have anyone shaking in their boots, and declared without a shred of hesitation: this one. As if responding to me, the creature simply clacked its neatly lined teeth at a steady rhythm.
Heo Yunji stared back and forth between me and the Lich with a look of pure shock.
“H-how……!”
There was a lot packed into that “how.”
How a supposedly frail Player of only level 9 could stand before a level 50 Lich so confidently.
How a Lich that had been ravaging humans with unspeakable dark magic the moment anyone so much as entered this alley was being so docile.
How any of this had been intentional.
Heo Yunji’s eyes swam, completely at a loss amid a storm of confusion.
To help her make sense of it, I decided to play the role of the “level 9 Monster Tamer” that Kim Seokju had helped me establish.
“I’m a Monster Tamer.”
“A, a Monster Tamer…? B-but I never saw you use a skill……?”
As Heo Yunji’s stumbling words pointed out, I hadn’t used a skill. There wasn’t even the faintest pulse of mana that any Player would naturally emit when activating one.
Of course not. Something like that isn’t possible for me — I’m an NPC.
So I decided to add one more layer to my cover.
“I don’t particularly need to use a skill. Mine is a passive skill.”
A Passive Skill.
Unlike an Active Skill — where you consciously draw out a specific ability using mana — a Passive Skill is always in effect, triggering on its own without the user needing to do anything.
A standard taming skill was naturally an Active Skill, but if I used that framing as-is, I’d have no way to explain why so many monsters welcomed me at the same time.
Players can only see their own status window, anyway. So how would she know whether I actually have a passive skill or not.
I decided to boldly pass off my Chaos Friendly title as a passive skill.
“I said Monster Tamer, but it’s a little different to be precise. My skill doesn’t tame monsters — it makes them perceive me as a friendly presence. Put simply, rather than having a specific skill, I just have a fairly high affinity with monsters.”
I tapped the back of my hand against the Lich’s chest. Through the robe, the firm texture of bone came through clearly.
Even with me knocking on its chest, the Lich showed no hostility whatsoever — if anything, it clacked its teeth again, as if smiling. On top of that, it reached out with a hand of nothing but bare, connected bones and patted me on the head. Watching this, Heo Yunji audibly sucked in a sharp breath.
“My god… so that’s why the level is……. But wait… if that’s true……”
As she struggled to organize the chaos in her head, Heo Yunji’s eyes began to take on an increasingly intense gleam.
“What’s your name?”
“Lee Jaea.”
Unlike before, Heo Yunji had completely shed the dismissive air from earlier and moved to step closer. At the same moment, the Lich’s eyes flashed and its staff began to shift — so I quickly stretched out my hand to stop her.
“Stay where you are. I’ll come to you.”
If Heo Yunji approached as she was, this skeleton would likely think she was about to harm me and cause a scene.
“You — stay here and behave. Don’t follow.”
I looked the Lich in the eye as I said it, and the red glow that had been flickering in its gaze instantly scattered. Then it clacked its teeth again. It seemed like a way of saying it understood, so I stepped out of the alley with Heo Yunji.
Out in the open, Heo Yunji’s eyes burned even more intensely as she grabbed me by the shoulder.
“Ngh!”
At my wince, Heo Yunji startled and immediately let go.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I was being careful — I had no idea that would hurt so much.”
The bone wasn’t broken, but the way it had gone numb told me a bruise was definitely forming.
I may have said level 9, but my body is no better than level 1!
It wasn’t like I could tape a sign to my forehead asking people to handle me like glassware.
I rubbed my sore shoulder and looked at Heo Yunji. The way she was flustered was nothing like the arrogance she’d shown when we first met.
“Lee Jaea. I sincerely apologize for how rude I was at the start.”
Good enough.
“Could you tell me a little more about your skill?”
Now it was time to add some seasoning.
***
After returning to Eclipse’s hideout, I was promptly given a room in the villa for my group to share.
The interior was a two-room layout with a fairly spacious living area, and it looked a bit cleaner in person than it had through Trait: Myriad View. It seemed like they’d done a quick tidy-up of the guest rooms in anticipation of taking on new alliances.
Since there were plenty of other alliance applicants, Heo Yunji was busy running around for a while after settling us in. Thanks to that, we were able to unpack, cook dinner at our leisure, and rest comfortably.
It was close to ten at night when Heo Yunji came to find me and requested a private meeting.
I followed her and spent nearly an hour laying out my fabricated abilities as though they were perfectly believable information.
“Aside from the passive skill I showed you earlier, there’s nothing else to speak of. I said level 9, but my stats aren’t much different from level 1.”
“Players with mental-type skills tend to have very low base stats, much like those with magic-based ones. I understand completely.”
I’d casually let slip that I was essentially the same as level 1, but Heo Yunji seemed like a completely different person from before — she hardly cared about my level anymore. The sight of a level 50 Lich being meek and obedient had clearly been quite the shock.
“How many monsters can you control at once?”
“I’m not sure, honestly. It’s not like I’m actively doing anything to control them. Although…”
I trailed off deliberately.
As for how many monsters I could control… the truth was, every monster looked at me favorably.
If I said that outright here, I might end up being dropped alone right in the middle of a monster swarm. Even then, not a scratch would come to me — I’d be fawned over and treated with the utmost care — but the problem was what came after.
If they decide to put me at the front line every time there’s a battle, that’ll be a problem.
The extent of my cooperation was only for this one raid.
And through that process, finding a Player with a movement-type skill and crossing over to Zone 1, where my younger sibling might be.
That was my ultimate goal.
I picked back up where I’d trailed off.
“Even as a passive skill, it seems to drain a lot of stamina — the more monsters that have registered my presence, the more it takes a toll on my body. I can look perfectly fine one moment and then just collapse.”
Compared to Players whose bodies naturally grew more resilient as they leveled up, I was a visibly frail young man.
Honestly, my pride takes a real beating, but what can I do — it’s the truth.
“So usually around midnight I run out of energy and basically pass out asleep. When that happens, no matter how hard you try to wake me, I won’t get up. It’s easier to just think of it as fainting.”
“Oh dear…. You’ve been through a lot.”
Heo Yunji nodded along with what seemed like genuine sympathy — but her eyes were clearly turning, working through the thought of how do I best make use of this overpowered weakling without burning them out.
That should be enough for now.
If Heo Yunji was already thinking shrewdly about where and how to put me to use, that was actually a good thing. It meant she wouldn’t resort to the crude method of flinging me into the middle of a monster horde.
I left the interview room behind, leaving Heo Yunji to calculate the most efficient, sustainable, long-term way to make use of the Monster Tamer who had landed in her lap.
Stepping out into the corridor, where the cool night air had settled, I could feel the eyes of a few people leaning against the walls flickering toward me. Every one of those looks was either resentful or condescending — it seemed word had spread that I was a single-digit level Player.
It doesn’t matter. I’ll be parting ways with them soon anyway.
I walked without slowing toward the room where my group was waiting.
And then.
A murmur rose from outside the villa. The sound grew louder — and then, at some point, went quiet.
What. What’s going on?
Unable to contain my curiosity, I made my way to the window in the villa corridor.
Beyond the open window.
I could see the people who had gone silent parting on their own to make way for a single man. He walked through the gap they’d created without sparing them a single glance, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I was on the third floor.
The distance made it impossible to make out the man’s face clearly — but just from his outfit and equipment alone, I recognized him instantly.
Jeong Euijin had returned.
