Chapter 6: URF

“Now that I think about it…”

“If it’s hard to ask, maybe don’t.”

“But you’re my contractor! Don’t I need to know what kind of person you are to help you?!”

“I got dragged around by crazy b*tches and bastards in some far-off alien world and barely made it back~”

“…Isn’t that skipping a lot?”

But Yoo Da-hee had no intention of saying more.

Why would she tell this goddess anything she liked?

Dike, looking anxious and fidgeting, tried to persuade her, but got nothing more.

“It’s fine…! You got Parashu, and your physical abilities crush SR ranks…! Okay, let me explain the arena!”

Unlike Dike, who was happily spinning her optimism, Yoo Da-hee’s reaction was stone-cold.

She’d only chopped Adikia down because she was pissed off, nothing more.

She didn’t care about whatever penalty she’d gotten.

“…So, 100 contractors fight for their gods in a theme park?”

Sounded like a massive hassle.

If she sliced Adikia again, maybe they’d kick her out for causing a scene without even competing—her hopeful thought was cut short by Dike’s nervous glance.

“Y-You’re not gonna bail, right…?”

“Who knows…”

Fiddling with Parashu, Yoo Da-hee saw Dike’s face go pale with a “Hieee!”

Dike clung to her leg, pleading no more penalties.

“Yoo Da-hee, Yoo Da-hee, Yoo Da-hee, Da-hee… Da-hee… Da-hee-yahhh!”

Those eyes knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Please, please win…! No, just get mid-tier, 21st to 50th, that’s enough… Please…!”

“Hey, hey! Let go! Let go?!”

Yoo Da-hee flailed her leg against Dike’s clingy, swamp-like grip, but it was no use.

She only clung tighter.

“If I join and lose right away, I’ll be free, right?”

She hated tedious stuff.

Since no one actually dies, a quick slice with Parashu would end it, no big deal.

“B-But then your life will get harder…!”

Yoo Da-hee’s eyes narrowed as the goddess dared to threaten her, but then a piece of paper was thrust forward.

“Contract! It’s the contract!”

Dike’s eyes, clutching the paper, held a glimmer of hope.

“If I lose this match and hand over 1 point to the Dimensional Credit Bank, the remaining debt… gets split with my contractor…!”

What.

Snatching the paper, Yoo Da-hee read it and realized what this goddess had done.

It wasn’t a normal contract.

A vicious… joint surety agreement.

A guarantee where the guarantor shares the debtor’s obligation… but in reality, it’s a trap to pin all the debt on one person.

Thinking of how many families crumbled under joint sureties during the IMF crisis, this was the worst possible move.

The shoddy contract had Dike’s signature, “Dike Astraea,” complete with her fingerprint, meaning she was dead serious.

This crazy b*tch.

When had she pulled this off…? Then Yoo Da-hee remembered the gap in her memory.

The time between getting hit by the truck at night and waking up the next day under the sun.

What had she done in between?

But—

“If I tear this up, it’s done, right?”

No contract, no obligation, she thought, but Dike was one step ahead.

“Hmph, you think I’d leave the original lying around?”

Pointing to the sky as the torn contract scattered on the floor, Dike grinned.

“The original’s long been sent via Cosmic Express Freight… It’s already reached the Dimensional Credit Bank and been verified!”

“They accepted this shady contract?!”

“The goblin-run Dimensional Credit Bank doesn’t care as long as they get divine power!”

But a guarantor needs some leverage to be accepted.

Would a bank take a homeless person’s guarantee? Yoo Da-hee thought not, but…

Dike raised her hands, making a reverse V over her eyes and winking.

“Even looking like this, I’m a goddess with [Eyes of Truth]! Sure, times are tough with debt, but my talent’s top-notch!”

And the goddess had personally vouched for a rare SSR contractor…!

The bank must’ve crunched the numbers and liked the deal.

A skilled contractor would make their name anywhere.

Even with Dike’s appraisal, some doubt lingered, but the recent chaos had blown it away.

Effortlessly crushing an SR contractor and turning a goddess into a gore flick…!

“…How much is the debt?”

“About 5 billion ether…?”

Dike scratched her cheek, talking in divine power units, but Yoo Da-hee couldn’t grasp it.

Seeing her confusion, Dike kindly converted it to Korean terms.

“Roughly 500 trillion?”

Crack.

The sheer scale of the number made Yoo Da-hee stagger.

This crazy b*tch made her jointly liable for 500 trillion?

Grabbing Dike, who smirked with smug superiority, Yoo Da-hee…

“Aaaah! S-Stop…! I got a low interest rate…!”

“How much?”

“…20% annually?”

Yoo Da-hee ground her knuckles into Dike’s temples until they caved.

Dike writhed in pain, collapsing with a whimper, but who cares?

This goddess deserved it.

[Ten minutes until the arena begins. Participants, please check your equipment.]

While Yoo Da-hee was tormenting Dike, the announcement blared, and everyone started inspecting their gear.

The equipment Adikia had left behind, originally Dike’s…

“It’s… ruined…!”

Most were broken or riddled with holes, barely functional.

The only decent pieces were some wearable tops and bottoms.

Yoo Da-hee, practically naked, thought it was lucky to have something to wear.

Dike, muttering to herself in a corner, saw Yoo Da-hee’s utter lack of enthusiasm for the fight.

“Sniff, other goddesses’ contractors practically worship them…”

Why only me… Huuuh…

“Maybe reflect on what you’ve done?”

Hitting someone with a truck, forging their fingerprint for a joint surety, and now dragging them into an arena where their fate’s on the line.

“Think about it—any of that sound like it’d earn respect or goodwill?”

Even in Korea’s messed-up legal system, this goddess would be in a cell.

But what could she do? It was her karma.

If Yoo Da-hee had truly gone rogue, she wouldn’t have swung at Adikia.

Despite her deadened emotions, a shred of humanity had driven her choice.

[“Please… give… the gear back…”]

Dike’s head pressed to the floor flashed in her mind.

“Tch…”

No choice.

Since this reckless goddess forced the contract, joining the game was inevitable, and mid-tier was the minimum.

21st to 50th…

“Don’t sulk in a dark corner like a hikikomori. Get up and explain.”

“Huh…?”

“You need mid-tier to avoid bankruptcy, right?”

Knowing Dike’s bankruptcy would screw her too, Yoo Da-hee couldn’t leave her alone.

“Really, really? You’re actually helping?”

“I said— Whoa!”

“Thank you, thank youuu!”

Dike lunged like a big dog, toppling Yoo Da-hee’s balance.

What a bothersome goddess, Yoo Da-hee sighed.

Listening to the arena rules, it wasn’t much different from a battle royale game.

Everyone starts with no gear or abilities for fairness, but as time passes, boxes appear around the arena where you can farm your original equipment.

Plus, as participants dwindle, you can awaken abilities granted by your gods.

“So I’m screwed?”

Yoo Da-hee stared at the lettering on her wrist.

[For this match, you may use your primary weapon only once.]

Hearing it now, it was the worst.

Like being told to win PUBG with just a P92 pistol.

From what she heard, opponents were flying in helicopters, firing M134 miniguns, wearing special armor, and blasting Barrett M82 sniper rifles.

All Yoo Da-hee had were her guts and the dwarf’s handaxe, Parashu.

A hologram on the waiting room wall played highlights from the last match’s late stages, and it was a spectacle.

[O darker than twilight, redder than the blood in my veins…]

[Farewell, strongest. Just a mortal who ran wild in an arena without me.]

[Ohohoh!]

…Thought it was PUBG, but it’s late-stage shonen superpower battle manga.

“How’s the main weapon decided?”

With only an axe, would it be her main weapon and fists secondary?

“Uh… the guide says it’s not like that!”

“What guide?”

The cover read, in divine script, [A Guide for Isekai Goddesses Traveling the Arena…]

What a random thing.

Flipping to the penalty section, it said:

“Your mind’s primary tool gets sealed naturally… If your sword’s your main, you can swing it once, but it can’t be used to attack afterward. Even if you swing, it deals no damage. Used for defense, it gets pierced by any attack…”

Following footnote [22], it continued:

[If you receive this penalty, it’s best to forfeit the match. In arena history, only three have survived to mid or late stages with this penalty.]

“…It says?”

“Huuuh… I don’t want a cosmic brothel…”

What’s with this goddess’s weird muttering?

Feeling the air of defeat, Yoo Da-hee gave Dike a light tap on the head, reassuringly.

“So it’s not impossible.”

Three precedents meant it wasn’t zero.

The difference between impossible and possible was huge.

Yoo Da-hee had plenty of room to work with.

First place wasn’t the goal.

Just cracking the top 50—that’s what she aimed for.

“…Anything more sounds like a hassle.”

Not a superpower showdown but early-stage brawling—physical combat gave her a shot, she figured, as she started planning based on the guide…

[The 221st Earth Arena Tournament begins now!]

[This tournament’s theme: Ultra Rapid Fire]

“Eh.”

“…?”

The ground collapsed before she could even prepare.