Chapter 6: The Rise of the Warehouse Keeper

White Tiger Guild

Kim Jaeseok, the manager of White Tiger Guild, hurriedly sought out the guild master, Baek Harang.

“Dude, I found one. A pack mule!”

Finally. They’d finally found it.
A pack mule to handle their overflowing inventory! And not just any mule—this one had maxed-out inventory skills and an expanded inventory from a special achievement!
Perfect. Now they wouldn’t have to abandon dungeons or risk losing them while waiting to sell off their overstocked guild storage.

“Seriously? How’d you find one? Even in the game, those types were just people who messed up their skill builds. With the awakening order and all the players who died in the Great Calamity, they’re even harder to find in reality.”
“Check this out.”

Jaeseok showed Harang the recent community thread with the pro pack mule’s comments on his phone.
The replies were jaw-dropping.

“They got an expanded inventory from a special achievement and maxed out inventory skills? That’s insane. In Terra Chronicles, raising a character like that was near impossible.”

Not that it was completely impossible, but still.

“What do you think?”

It’s unlikely to be a scam since they agreed to meet in person.
With all the talk about heroes and villains these days, it’s even less likely.

“Not bad. But with that kind of build, they probably don’t have any self-defense skills. We’ll need to pull one of our guys to escort them.”

If it’s legit, they probably didn’t invest in combat skills at all.
Maxing out inventory skills pretty much screams that.

“Well, they said they can live up to their nickname.”
“Alright, let’s meet them. If they’re for real, it’s a win.”

If this pans out, they’d have the ultimate pro pack mule.

The next day, I met with the White Tiger Guild folks.
The location was a café near my place.
One was a bald guy with a shaved head, and the other was a woman in a sleek guild suit.
So, this bald guy’s the one who’s gonna lick my boots, huh?
Honestly, I’m not here to mess around, but maybe I can assert some dominance among fellow awakeners.

“Uh… you’re a woman?”

The bald guy’s jaw dropped in shock.
Sure, I was a man until recently, but that’s a pretty rude reaction. It’s not about gender discrimination, but if you’ve played Terra Chronicles, you wouldn’t react like that. For a moment, I seriously wondered if this bald guy was a normie.
What about the woman next to him?

“What, is there a rule saying women can’t be pack mules? If you played the game, you’d know.”

Reality and the game are different, sure, so I get it to an extent.
To be honest, the gods transplanted everything—abilities, appearances—straight from Terra Chronicles characters to the players.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… there’s this image of pack mules, you know? Like, big, burly types.”

An image of pack mules? That’s straight-up stereotyping.
Did this guy even play the game?

“If you think about it, in the game, weren’t most people pretty slim? You didn’t see many bulky customizations for pack mules, right?”
“Huh, I guess that’s true.”
“Have you even played the game?”

I don’t want to deal with a newbie. And this newbie’s the guild rep? Or maybe the woman next to him is?

“No, it’s just that I’ve never actually seen a pack mule. Sorry if I was rude.”

Exactly. Those muscular types were usually combat classes, weren’t they? Sure, I brought up the muscle thing first, but back in the game, pack mules were mostly scrawny.
Customizations are all about looking good, right? Some went for a bulky character concept, but big characters were usually built for combat with combat skills.
So, stereotyping’s not cool.
Besides, pack mules just manage inventory boxes.

“Sure, but… GM? Warehouse? You say you live up to your nickname, but you don’t have a storage unit. Most pack mules carry personal storage, don’t they?”
“My inventory box is all I need.”

I get it.
They can’t just blindly trust me.
If I were them, I’d be skeptical too—a glossy-customized woman claiming to be a pack mule? Seeing is believing. Without proof, they’d probably think, Is this chick just tagging along to leech off the guild?
Even the woman’s staring at me like I’m some shady con artist.
She cautiously opened her mouth.

“Hmm, can we really be sure? Honestly, you look like a scammer with a shiny customization.”

Wow, she’s thinking exactly what I’d think. Ignoring the newbie bald guy, I should talk to her instead.

“Of course you’d think that. I’d assume the same—a parasitic chick trying to scam White Tiger Guild. You’re probably thinking I’ll use my stunning looks or cheap sympathy in the dungeon to get away with scamming and waltz off with the same loot split as the guild hunters.”

It’s kind of sad. It’s a human world, but people are so cynical.
Still, I’m suspicious, so I can’t blame them.
The woman waved her hands, as if to say I’d misunderstood.

“No, I didn’t think that far. I wouldn’t be that rude to someone I just met.”

Just be honest. Anyway, if she’s gonna play it like that, I’ve got my own plan.
I was gonna show them anyway, so no harm in doing it now. They’re from White Tiger—bald guy and this woman. They’ve already shown their hand, but I, a newbie awakener with no track record, can’t just sit still.
Crossing my legs, I said boldly:

“Then why don’t you see for yourself?”
“You can show us right now?”

Of course. I’m kind of a big deal, you know.

“I’m ready to roll.”

At first, I was skeptical too. When I got the reward, I imagined a giant storage unit. But that’s not what it was.
It was when I maxed out rapport with one of the game’s god NPCs. The god smiled with satisfaction and said:

“While other humans are busy hunting, you’re talking to all of us. It’s not ideal for preparing for the looming threat, but I think it’s worth putting some faith in you.”

That’s what they said, I’m sure of it.
Now that I think about it, maybe that really was a god.
Could it be that they gave me a gift as an offering for my devotion? Honestly, when I was raising my sub-character, I just chatted with NPCs and moved on to my own stuff. It’s weird to think about.
So, I decided to show off this god-given power.

The café wasn’t the right place, so I moved to a nearby construction site and emptied my inventory.
Even random junk would make these guys pounce like dogs.

Crash!*

“What the hell are these stones?”

The two of them looked dumbfounded.
Yeah, I bet. A woman’s hand glowing with a cube, items pouring out—it’s gotta be wild.
My inventory box is different from the usual ones.
The problem is what’s spilling out.
I accidentally emptied the stone section. I meant to show off something else, but now it looks like I’m flaunting my stones.

“Whoops, I meant to pull out something else, but these came out. There’s still this much left?”

These were definitely stones I hoarded in the game because I had too many. To think they’re still here—mind-blowing.
Now that I think about it, selling just these could make a fortune. There’s so many.

“Are these stones…?”
“Oh, not for sale. Anyway, is this proof enough?”

No way I’m selling. These are my insurance policy. I’m the type to hold onto stuff like this—it’d feel wrong to sell them.

“Yeah, this is more than enough to trust you. Let’s do it.”
“Great, so the contract’s set. You’ll split the loot with me like a guild member, right?”

Gotta make that clear.

“Yes. Though, if there’s a boss and it drops special materials…”
“Oh, that’s fine. I’ve got enough sense to know that’s the guild’s share.”

That’s obviously for the guild who fought hard. I’m not greedy enough to claim that. I just don’t want them interfering with what I’m doing.

“And do you need an escort? From what you’ve said, with all those inventory skills, your combat skills must be lacking.”

An escort? Not really necessary, is it?
I’ve got items. I can’t fight, but items let me survive. With item power, I can hold my own, even if I’m not fighting.
An escort would just be a hassle. It’d lower the raid team’s combat power too. Escorting means they’d have to watch me, which is nice for a lowly pack mule but a burden for the guild. With only one or two escorts, the combat loss for a new dungeon raid would be bigger than expected.

“Well, I’m fine. I’ll just quietly follow as a pack mule.”
“You sure?”
“Yup, no problem. I’ve got item power.”

I clenched my fists confidently.
I’ve got plenty of items to keep monsters at bay. But they looked at me with puzzled expressions.
Yeah, I get it—they’re probably wondering how much money I dumped into this game. A non-combat character with this many items? In a game where you didn’t need to whale if you played smart, why would I spend so much?
No need to mention my main character, but plenty of people whale for self-satisfaction, don’t they?

“Item power, huh? Anything else you’d like to request?”
“Just don’t interfere with whatever I do in the dungeon.”

That’s about it.

“What’s that mean?”
“I’ll do my own exploring without getting in the guild’s way.”

Like finding veins or weird items. But they tilted their heads, confused.

“While following us?”
“Yup.”
“Got it. As long as GM does the pack mule job and doesn’t harm us, we won’t interfere with whatever you do in the dungeon.”

That’s all I need to hear.

“Cool, thanks. By the way…”
“Yes?”
“You said you’d lick boots if I was legit.”

Who said that?

“No, I didn’t know you were a woman. Sorry.”
“So it was baldy who said it?”

Logically, a woman wouldn’t write that comment.
Hey, it’s fine. I’m all about cleanliness—I washed up before coming, and I’ve got hygiene items too.
I pulled out a chair from my inventory, sat down, took off my boots, and wiggled my foot.

“Lick my boot.”

“…”

What? You said you’d do it. I came here just to see that.