The morning air was cold.
Not the kind of cold that kissed the skin and faded—but the heavy, unmoving kind that crept into the bones. It seemed to radiate from the gate itself.
The swirling vortex loomed before them like a suspended storm, pulsing softly in a shade between obsidian and violet. An unnatural tear in space, humming with restrained menace.
The crew members stood in a loose half-circle—eleven in total, none of them comfortable. Some bounced on their feet nervously. Others kept their eyes averted, whispering beneath their breaths.
Only three stood apart from the unease.
The Hunters.
They wore tailored black uniforms, clean and simple—more like executive suits than battle gear. Only one bore a visible weapon: a twin-dagger sheath strapped diagonally across her lower back. Silver hilts, leather-bound grip, gleaming under the morning sun. Her expression was unreadable.
The others? Calm. Silent. Eyes like glass.
One of them, tall with slicked-back hair, checked the time and let out a sharp breath. "Who are we waiting for again?"
Do-Shik looked toward the road, folding his arms. "Just a little more time."
His eyes narrowed. His thoughts, private but steady.
(Lin… you always want to be strong. This is your first chance inside a gate. I know you'll show up. You wouldn't miss this.)
And then—
A voice rang out behind them.
"Sorry I'm late."
Heads turned.
Lin approached in his blue cleaning uniform, the color almost too bright against the grey tension in the air. His boots were fastened tight. His hair still damp from a rushed shower. His expression? Set.
He stopped just short of the group, exhaling. His chest tightened a little from the run, but he stood tall.
Do-Shik's face cracked into the smallest smile. He stepped forward and clapped a hand on Lin's shoulder. "I knew those words wouldn't hold you back. That's why I root for you, kid."
Lin didn't smile, but his eyes softened. "Thanks, Chairman."
The Hunter with the daggers gave them both a glance. "If we're all here, then let's move."
Her voice was cool, efficient.
Another one added, "Once inside, remember—don't engage with any beasts. That's not your job. You're here to scout and retrieve. We keep you alive. You stay behind us. Clear?"
The crew members nodded, stiffly. No one argued.
Do-Shik gave a final look at Lin.
"Stay sharp."
Lin nodded.
The swirling gate pulsed again, louder now, like a heartbeat accelerating.
One by one, they stepped into the breach.
And the world beyond swallowed them whole.
The moment they stepped through the gate, the world behind them vanished.
In its place, a vast cavern stretched out before them—jagged stone walls, slick with moisture, and a ceiling lost in darkness. The air was damp, thick, and humming faintly, like the dungeon itself was breathing.
Their boots crunched against loose gravel and moss. Torches mounted on stone outcroppings flickered with unnatural blue fire, casting dancing shadows along the walls.
"This is a dungeon?" one of the younger crew members whispered, eyes wide with half fear, half awe. "Damn… my family won't believe this."
"I thought it'd be hotter. This is like… a cave," another murmured, brushing a hand along the damp wall.
Lin stayed quiet, his steps careful as he walked close to Do-Shik. The faint squelch of water under his boots made him oddly nostalgic.
(So this is how dungeon a dungeon look like. Back then, there was no even dungeons or portal like this. Monsters came out of nowhere monsters that spat fire, warped time. But here… it feels so different.)
The group kept moving, guided by the lead Hunter with the twin daggers. Her steps were light, but her presence pulled attention. The other two Hunters stayed behind, eyes scanning the darkness like it was habit more than caution.
Then—
A low growl echoed from the left tunnel.
Guttural. Wet.
Not one voice—many.
From the shadows, goblins emerged. Small, misshapen, green-gray bodies with sickly skin. Eyes glowing faint yellow. Teeth jagged like broken glass. Fifteen of them, at least, some clinging to rusted spears and others wielding crude knives.
The crew members flinched back, some gasping, others frozen.
But the Hunters didn't move—except her.
She stepped forward, already unsheathing both daggers with a quiet whisper of steel.
In a blink, she was among them.
The first goblin lunged—its throat opened before its feet even left the ground. The second tried to swing a blade, but she had already turned, spinning low. Her left dagger slashed across its knees; the right, through its heart.
The fight wasn't flashy. No shouting. No roars.
Just movement. Clean, precise.
(She dances… like water.)
Goblins fell one by one. Heads severed, arms dismembered. Their shrieks were short-lived. Her face remained calm—detached. Cold.
Lin's eyes locked on the daggers.
(Daggers… I never used them in my past life. Always fists. Elbows. Kicks. The raw closeness of hand-to-hand—every strike was personal. But this… this is efficiency. Beautiful, brutal efficiency. How effortlessly she cuts through chaos.)
Do-Shik, beside him, let out a low breath. "Shocked too, kid?"
Lin nodded, still watching her work.
"She's called Nam Ara," Do-Shik said. "One of the fastest B-Rankers out here. Quiet as the wind. Dangerous as hell."
Lin's gaze lingered on her as she slid one dagger back into its sheath, blood slipping off like water.
(Nam Ara…) he thought, the name lodging in his memory. (Precision like that isn't just power. It's control. Focus. Everything I lost. Everything I need.)
One of the crew members, still wide-eyed, whispered behind them, "It'd be so cool to be a Hunter… I swear. That's the life."
Lin said nothing. But the thought lingered.
(Cool?)
(No…)
(It's something else entirely.)
He looked up again as Nam Ara walked past them without a word, wiping her blade clean.
And now, he remembered her name.
——
They walked in a quiet line, boots echoing against the cave floor, tension winding tight in their spines. The tunnel opened into a wide chamber—massive, with jagged black rock arching like fangs overhead and luminous blue crystals growing from the walls like tumors.
Nam Ara was the first to step forward, her daggers already in hand though she kept them lowered. Her voice broke the silence, calm but edged like her blades.
"Listen carefully. This is it. We've entered the dungeon boss's territory. From this point on, no foolish movements. No noise. No splitting up without alerting a Hunter. Your only task is to gather. We'll deal with the boss when it shows."
The tone in her voice left no room for doubt. It wasn't just a suggestion. It was law.
The crew members all gave quick nods and murmured affirmatives.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Got it."
"Understood."
They scattered. Quietly. Efficiently. Lin followed the others, eyes scanning the cave.
Clusters of mana crystals, their glow shifting in iridescent hues, pulsed in the shadows. There were arcane fragments, glittering motes that shimmered like broken starlight. Some dug out monster cores, still warm from the bodies of fallen beasts—small orbs of power. Others salvaged rare dungeon flora—moss, roots, fungi with faint magical signatures.
Still… the boss didn't show.
Nam Ara and the other two Hunters leaned against the wall near the entrance of the chamber. Their armor had a strange minimalism—light, tailored, combat-functional yet casual.
One of the male Hunters, arms crossed and chewing a stick of gum, glanced around lazily. "Alright. If this goes sideways," he said, voice dry, "which one of these guys you think dies first?"
The second Hunter, a broad-shouldered man with a short buzzcut, nodded toward the group. "The quiet kid. Over there."
He pointed at Lin.
Lin, unaware of the exchange, continued examining a set of crystals.
Nam Ara didn't move. "Our objective is to make sure it doesn't go sideways," she said flatly, her voice cool but final.
The first hunter shrugged. "Yeah. But these things feel off."
Buzzcut leaned forward slightly. "Why hasn't the boss shown up yet? They usually come out snarling the moment we step in."
Nam Ara's brows pulled together. "Exactly. It feels like we're waiting for it… not the other way around."
Then—
A scream. A sharp, panicked shout from deep within the chamber.
"Over here! HUNTERS!"
The Hunters bolted forward.
The crew was gathered around something. Something large, twisted, unmoving.
The corpse of a beast. No doubt about it—it had all the markers of a dungeon boss. Towering physique, heavily muscled. But its chest had been torn open from within. Ribs snapped outward like spears. Black ichor pooled beneath it.
"What the hell?" Nam Ara muttered.
One of the Hunters knelt. "It's already dead. But how—?"
Do-Shik's voice rang out behind them. "Lin. Get away from that area!"
Lin blinked and turned back to look at him.
"Eh?"
Shhhhhck.
A slicing sound, clean and fast.
Do-Shik froze mid-step. Blood welled from his throat. His eyes went wide, mouth opening in confusion. A breath. Then—
Thud.
His head dropped to the ground.
His body followed.
Lin's breath hitched.
His legs stiffened.
His eyes widened.
His lips parted, but no sound came out.
(What—what just—?)
His chest locked up. Fear took over. Real, raw fear. The kind that smothered logic and replaced it with static.
The Hunters turned instantly.
Standing just meters away from Do-Shik's fallen body was something—tall, humanoid, but wrong. Its face hidden behind a half-mask carved with jagged red symbols. Its skin was pale, almost silver. In its hand: a long sword glowing with a violent, red aura that pulsed with rage.
The buzzcut Hunter's voice shook. "I-Is that… a magical beast?"
The creature tilted its head.
Then—it was gone.
Not moved.
Vanished.