‘Not enough Filial Piety Points = Filial Factory shuts down’

=Fake Saw activities suspended.

“Big trouble!”

Guru opened her mouth wide as she recalled the consequences of running out of Filial Piety Points.

Just thinking of the Hyeonak Guild members sniffling because they couldn’t get syrup made her nose tingle.

They’re all probably waiting for Gwuu...

As a Supreme Hunter, she couldn’t just let that happen.

Let’s go!

“Time to fundraise Filial Piety Points!”

There were two main ways to gather Filial Piety Points.

The first was the Filial Piggy Bank!

Whenever many people praised Guru, a very small amount of points would trickle into the piggy bank.

If a lot of people recognized her like during the anonymous Santa days, the points would add up quickly, but—

“Not now.”

That had only happened because of the national potion crisis. Even now, reporters were still lurking in front of Hyeonak with their shutters ready.

“If Gwuu does dat again......”

In her mind, an angry daddy wolf billowed up like steam.

Guru shook her head side to side.

If the piggy bank wasn’t an option, there was only one other way.

“Quest!”

That had been the main method of earning points before the Filial Piggy Bank was introduced.

Usually triggered by caregiver danger or Guru’s strong determination.

“Dis is all Gwuu can do now.”

Guru opened her quest window and checked a quest she hadn’t yet completed.

[Caregiver Quest: Welcome the New Caregiver!]

[Let’s welcome the new caregiver! Help the unfamiliar caregiver make a dependable friend in this strange environment.]

[Reward: 5,000 Filial Piety Points]

She’d completely forgotten about this after Management Team Leader Seol Yeo-jin’s sudden ambush.

“Awight.”

Guru clenched her little fist.

“Activate fwiend-fwiend pwoject!”

If they all went out together and played a bunch and ate lots of yummy food, they’d naturally grow closer!

Just as she was getting into that mindset—

“I’ve got something to do, so I’m leaving first.”

They were gathered again today in the Management Team’s office, huddled up and studying together.

Serhi suddenly placed his mechanical pencil on the desk and stood up.

“Eh? Again today?”

Guru pouted her lips.

Today was supposed to be the day the three of them—underage and proud—went out and had fun.

Serhi gave a soft smile and stroked Guru’s cheek.

“Next time, let’s hang out.”

“Hiiing—”

“Where ya goin’. That weird part-time job again?”

While Guru leaned her chin into Serhi’s palm and pouted, Gidan spoke in disbelief.

Serhi had started this mysterious part-time job three days ago.

He hadn’t said what kind of job it was, or where or how he was doing it. He just disappeared saying he had something to do.

Guru didn’t think much of it, but Gidan had been completely stunned.

“What kind of job? Don’t you know you’re banned from side gigs?”

Gidan worded it gently, but he was really calling attention to Serhi’s still unstable situation.

Solo activity was forbidden.

They had placed several item-based restrictions on him, but since he was S-Rank, they couldn’t rely on items alone.

“Guildmastuh knows.”

That was all Serhi said in reply.

“Huh?” Gidan blinked, growing more and more suspicious.

Regardless, Serhi turned and headed toward the door.

“Yeah, I gotta get to work. I’m off.”

While Gidan furrowed his brows deeply, Guru waved her hand with a face full of regret.

“Bai-baiiiing.”

Serhi waved back and closed the office door.

“Serhi Oppaw still busy...”

“Awubaaito...?”

Guru did know what a part-time job was. There were tons of part-time job postings back at Onion Market.

“Awubaaito = wowk = howwy wage = money”

Hmm?

“But Serhi Oppaw has no money?”

Even though he’s in Hyeonak?

......

That could only mean...

With a trembling voice, Guru said:

“Did... Daddy not give him money?”

Did he give him that black bus card again?

At this rate, Serhi might turn dark and lead a mannequin squad dressed in vests and headbands to stage a protest in front of the company.

While Guru’s face turned serious, Gidan wagged his index finger side to side.

“Dummy Gwuu, that’s not it.”

“Um?”

“From what I see...”

Leaning back in his chair and casually kicking one leg, Gidan /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ crossed his arms and spoke with gravity.

“Serhi’s being scammed.”

“Gasp!”

Guru, traumatized by scams, gasped and trembled at the shoulders. Was Serhi facing something that horrible?

Meanwhile, Gidan began to weave a scary tale.

Like how Serhi didn’t know anything.

How someone told him you had to take your shoes off to ride the bus in Korea, and he actually tried.

How someone told him guild members have to bow to the Guildmastuh, and his face turned pale.

“Kid’s so naïve. If you tell him to do something, he just does it.”

Guru’s jaw dropped.

Turns out, since he didn’t know anything, Serhi just quietly obeyed whatever people told him, and Gidan had been taking full advantage of that to pull scams.

As she listened, Guru suddenly thought, “No wonder nobody twusts Dani.”

“He might be doing phone scams right now...”

When Gidan went as far as to say, “A seasoned scammer tricking one naive foreign minor? Easier than taking candy from a preschooler,” Guru’s face went completely white.

“Then Serhi Oppaw too...!”

She pictured a tearful Serhi losing 20 million won to a scammer and clutched Gidan’s sleeve tightly.

“Gwuu, what?”

“W-we gotta chase him!”

Guru stomped her feet in a panic.

She couldn’t let Serhi fall victim to a scam!

Then Gidan grinned mischievously.

“Shall we?”

***

“Fake Saw?”

Just a few days ago, Serhi had scoffed.

That was after he’d helped Guru and gotten chewed out by Jurim.

It was then that Gidan told him Guru had been working as a Hunter in a mascot costume under the alias “Fake Saw.”

“So dat’s why she was wearin’ dat weird thing...”

Apparently in Korea, there were weirdos called “concept addicts” who went around doing bizarre stunts. It was even a trend now, and many of them were using mascot suits like Fake Saw.

There was a wild rumor spreading online that Fake Saw had done something so outrageous that Hyeonak scouted her, and now all sorts of eccentric antics from otaku types were blowing up the internet.

He’d seen plenty of these “concept addicts” in games, so it wasn’t exactly surprising, but that was in-game.

A dungeon, though, was real life.

Serhi shook his head. He figured all the peace had made Koreans attention-hungry and deranged.

Until he ended up wearing a mascot suit himself.

Several parties gathered at the guerrilla dungeon were glancing at him.

Dungeons rated A or higher couldn’t be cleared by a single party. Multiple teams usually joined forces, so a bunch of people were gathered here today.

“......”

Serhi was now experiencing firsthand what it meant to want to die from embarrassment.

“This fucking...”

Grinding his teeth internally, Serhi avoided the stares aimed directly at him.

He understood perfectly why they were staring.

He’d entered the dungeon wearing a mascot suit—a twisted-looking cat head with crooked, mismatched eyes.

“Crazy Koreans... No, crazy Korean government workers...”

The reason Serhi found himself in this mess went back to the recent “A-Rank Boss Poaching Incident.”

***

One day, the boss of an A-Rank dungeon vanished.

It wasn’t slain by Hunters—it had been captured.

After the Great Cataclysm, industries had changed dramatically, and countries began pouring massive resources into dungeon management.

Maintaining dungeons with essential resources like silver-light grass became a central national project.

Normally, when a dungeon spawned, if it was worth maintaining, they left the core intact.

When the boss is defeated, the dungeon’s core regenerates the boss using ambient mana and stored data.

The core would repeat this cycle until the dungeon’s mana was depleted.

To support this, the Hunter Agency periodically infused mana into the core and performed maintenance.

But then, a dungeon boss completely disappeared.

The core didn’t detect the boss’s death, and no matter how much mana they injected, the dungeon turned into a lifeless, abandoned mine.

There had already been two confirmed cases.

The Hunter Agency realized this was serious and launched an immediate investigation.

All signs pointed to one conclusion.

“Someone is capturing dungeon bosses.”

Specifically, during guerrilla states where entry logs weren’t recorded.