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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Magic Genius with Korean Patch
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"Jeon, that's enough. Go rest over there now."
"Huh? But still..."
"It's fine. The foundation's all set, so from here on, it'll be faster if we do it ourselves."
"Ah... Got it."
Jimmy had rushed him along to get here in a hurry, but when it came to setting up the temporary tent, Jeon's hands weren't really needed.
After helping set up a few support poles, the Tuk tribesmen stepped up and insisted they'd handle the rest themselves.
Well, yeah, it'd be faster among themselves.
Jeon's current body was that of a growing boy, not yet an adult.
On top of that, he hadn't been eating well, so he wasn't particularly strong or sturdy.
He managed various tasks decently thanks to his natural adaptability, but physically demanding work was still beyond him.
At least they're good people.
The Tuk tribesmen didn't usually assign him much work either.
They treated him with consideration since, aside from themselves, he was the only one here who could communicate.
...To think even folks that big and strong are slaves.
Watching just five Tuk tribesmen casually erect a massive temporary tent left him in awe.
But no matter how huge and powerful they were, they were still slaves, just like him.
That realization made Jeon reflect on the group he was part of.
Ruins exploration team, was it?
The name sounded like a bunch of archaeologists heading out to excavate sites, but in this world, a ruins exploration team was something else.
Here, they were more like a combat unit than scholars.
Never thought I'd actually see knights and mages in action....
The core members of this team were mostly knights and mages.
And over the past month living with them, Jeon had witnessed their power firsthand.
It was insane.
Wild monsters that ambushed the team, treating them like prey.
Beasts resembling wolves from Earth but far larger—he'd seen knights and mages tear them apart with swords and spells.
...And that means the ruins they're heading to are just as dangerous.
He'd heard ancient ruins were perilous.
Most of the sites this team sought were from ages ago, the height of magic's golden era—places more dangerous than mere ruins, harboring treasures beyond imagination.
...Talk about a proper fantasy world.
That thought hit home, reminding Jeon once more that he'd been dropped into a medieval fantasy realm of swords and sorcery, straight out of novels or comics.
But who'd have guessed I'd bring a Korean Patch with me....
When Jeon first arrived, he hadn't questioned using the Imperial Language naturally.
The shock of arriving in another world overshadowed it, and everything felt seamless.
It wasn't until about two weeks in that he realized he had the Korean Patch ability.
The trigger? Running into Tuk tribesmen by chance—folks he rarely crossed paths with due to different work assignments.
It sounded perfectly natural.
He could tell their language differed from the others'.
Yet both came through crystal clear, as if he'd grown up bilingual.
"...Never been fluent in two languages, so I wouldn't know."
In his past life, he'd only studied English for college entrance exams—no real foreign language experience.
He couldn't pinpoint the sensation exactly, but he knew he handled both effortlessly.
Probably works for other languages too.
Thus, Jeon confirmed his Korean Patch ability.
Problem was, it didn't offer much immediate use.
With crystal-clear memories of his past life's accident, he cherished this new one, whatever the circumstances.
If I've got this cheat ability, I'd love to live it up flashily.
But as a slave, options were nil.
Sure, he hoped to escape someday for a better life, but the road ahead looked hopelessly blocked.
"Sigh."
Lost in gloomy thoughts, he let out a long sigh—until someone sidled up beside him.
"Oh? What's up, Jeon. Slacking off too?"
"...Garon?"
The newcomer was a familiar face: Garon, a sturdy young man a head taller than Jeon, with a solid build.
His clothes were just as ragged as Jeon's—another slave.
"You've been slacking more lately, huh?"
"Not as much as you, Garon."
Yet Garon carried an air of leisure despite being a slave.
Unlike Jeon, who'd been mistreated until his Tuk language skills surfaced, Garon did his work aptly while chatting up slaves, overseer Jimmy, and even non-slaves with easy familiarity.
Like a lame-duck sergeant in his last days.
Garon claimed he'd been a mercenary baggage handler before gambling debts enslaved him.
It rang true—he knew more than most slaves, and he talked plenty.
"Slacking? I finished my work and am resting."
"Sure, sure."
Jeon shot back curtly, but he didn't dislike Garon.
If anything, he leaned positive.
Just a bit annoying at times.
Over the past month, Jeon had eavesdropped diligently to learn about this world.
His quick adaptation helped gather info, but Garon provided the lion's share.
The man's worldly experience and chatter had been invaluable for a newbie like Jeon.
"Heard the latest? We're almost at the target site."
"Already?"
"Already? They say it's taken longer than expected."
"Really?"
"Told you, this team's on its last legs. If we strike out again, we might get sold off elsewhere."
"Hmm..."
Jeon glanced around the camp at Garon's words.
That many, huh.
Outwardly, the team looked fine.
But scrutinizing the members, a hint of unease emerged.
Garon chimed in.
"Word is, the sponsor's pulling funding if we fail this time."
"...How do you even know that?"
Impressive intel for a slave, even a sociable one.
Garon shrugged it off casually.
"Not a big deal. Even Jimmy knows. It's just the slaves who are clueless—rumor's all over the team."
"So even Jimmy... Never mind. Point is, success means continued funding, right?"
Amazed by Garon's network, Jeon pressed on, noting his defeatist tone.
If the team folds... I need a plan.
A month in this fantasy world, and Jeon's world was this team.
No prep meant getting sold elsewhere if it collapsed.
Best to sketch contingencies.
"Success, yeah. But we've bombed five times lately. Doubt this'll turn out different."
"...You talk like it's someone else's problem."
"Might as well be. What influence does a slave like me have? Best I can do is pray the next buyer's better if we bust."
Garon spoke with resigned familiarity—this wasn't new.
Jeon nodded in agreement.
He's not wrong.
Ruins teams were combat-heavy, packed with knights and mages.
A powerless slave like Jeon couldn't sway superhuman efforts.
As Garon said, they were helpless bystanders.
"Hey, you two! What're you doing? Work's done?"
"Oh? Y-Yes! We just finished and sat for a sec!"
"You idiots... Move your asses!"
"Yes, sir! Coming!"
Jimmy spotted them and glared.
Garon flashed a cheeky grin and bolted toward him; Jeon sprang up and dashed to the Tuk tribesmen.
Worry about myself first.
Too many slave duties to fret over the expedition's fate.
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A week and a half more passed since Jeon's otherworldly arrival and enslavement began—a full month and change.
Today was his busiest day yet in this world.
"One more time: stay sharp! We enter fully prepared!"
Today, they entered the target ruins.
What a madhouse.
They'd arrived last night, camped at the site, and scrambled into action at dawn.
Jeon, as a slave, bounced between spots needing hands—no rest, not even with the Tuk tribesmen.
The team radiated grim determination beyond mere tension.
Even among slaves like Jeon, a similar vibe hung heavy.
"Th-this gonna be okay?"
"Damn, didn't think the rumors were real!"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck."
But their tension veered from resolve toward raw fear of death.
"Hoo... Fuck."
Jeon wasn't immune, muttering curses while clenching and unclenching his fists.
Expeditions had high bust rates, and even real finds risked lives.
Thus, they ran on merchant guilds chasing jackpots or noble/royal patronage.
High stakes meant heavy investment on hits—including slaves as manpower.
All those excuses... But we're just meat shields.
Slaves' role in ancient ruins was simple: lead, trigger traps with bodies.
Survive? Haul loot as porters.
Veteran teams might bench slaves for clean runs, but this failing outfit couldn't afford that.
Would've preferred a bust.
Jeon and the slaves, unable to resist, were shoved forward as fodder.
The team hadn't breathed a word until entry—sprung it last-second.
Knowing wouldn't have changed a thing for mere slaves.
...Yeah, this is that kind of place.
Humanity here scraped bottom—no mercy or rights.
Jeon scanned his surroundings, reaffirming his harsh reality.
No escape in sight.
Only choice: plunge unarmed into unknown perils.
What rotten luck.
Nothing good since arriving.
But his gripe cut short.
"Alright, we're entering!"
The prepared team gave the order.
Frontline slaves hesitated, but couldn't stall forever.
"Entering now!"
Unseen dangers ahead, but spears and swords loomed behind—a real threat.
Trash bastards.
Jeon inwardly cursed their pettiness.
He'd once admired the knights and mages fending off mountain beasts.
Now? Revealing their true scum colors.
No help for it.
Slaves, Jeon included, spat silent curses but slowly stepped into the ruins.