And now, back to the present.
Because that leash was held altogether too well, the talent-monster Gyeon Jioh—now even capable of full-on civilian cosplay—watched in stunned silence.
The dungeon broadcast sliding toward the worst.
Who said it first?
When humans face a crisis, they start by blaming someone else.
“If you think about it, this is all because of you! Yoon Iseo, you bastard!”
‘Wait…… how did we jump this fast?’
“If it weren’t for you! Let go of me! This happened because some Top-20 Ranker suddenly butted in! Nobody even called you, but you shoved yourself in!”
In the end, Yoon Iseo got grabbed by the collar.
Skinny as a skull, he flapped like a gas-station inflatable tube man—enough to stir sympathy that wasn’t there before.
Gyeon Jioh (No. 1) grew solemn and glared at Hwanghon (No. 6).
‘That conscience-dead Gangster Tofu……’
“What?”
Driven to the brink, Yoon Iseo kept darting sorrowful glances at Hwanghon.
“Why’s everyone lookin’ at me and freakin’ out……?”
“I hate Hwanghon.”
“……!”
“Ah, sorry. Got too excited and blurted it out in English. I’ve got a condition where I die if I don’t curse Hwanghon.”
“T-there’s a condition like that?”
“I’m the owner of the Hwanghon Anti Cafe.”
“……Don’t…