In the previous round, a total of seven Hunters entered the Jeongchoduk Dungeon. After slaughtering four of them, the boss monster was demoted to C-rank. Only then were the remaining Hunters able to clear the dungeon and escape alive.
During the subsequent investigation, a bug that had hitched a ride up the mountain was found beneath the hood of one of the surviving Hunters. Upon realizing what had happened, everyone lamented.
Including the life of the roughly 3 cm-long bug, the total number of entries was eight. The dungeon had eliminated precisely half of its intruders before shifting.
Sincere condolences go to the Hunters who died saving a bug, but the truth is, this unexpected outcome yielded valuable information.
If it had not been known that insects also counted as living entities, the one eliminated today in this place would not have been a beetle.
Cha Eui-sung wiped the smile off his face and picked up the iron pipe he had kept in reserve. The black-clad silhouette dashed toward him like lightning.
Shrrreeeek—
BOOM!
There was no need for a second strike. With a thunderous sound, the boss monster’s body was pierced through. The severed surface was so smooth and sharp it looked as though it had been cut by a machine—enough to send chills down the spine.
From the shattered parts, red oil spurted up with a fizzy hiss. Cha Eui-sung wiped the splattered oil from his face with the inside of his arm and quietly stared at the clear reward materializing before him.
At last—he had obtained the Gigas Armor.
This expensive item would now be transferred not to the Hunter Association, but to an Assemblyman from the Bureau of Regulation. With a special contract crafted through his awakened ability, the chance of being swindled or betrayed would drop to near zero.
Only then did Cha Eui-sung pull out a damp towel with a satisfied expression and begin wiping away the bloodstains splattered everywhere. The black clothing soaked in blood and dust was discarded carelessly inside the dungeon.
After changing into the spare clothes and shoes he had brought along, he would simply use the gate that had appeared in the corner to exit.
Flicker. The light of the rift dimmed, then began to shine again. Dungeon reset complete. A ruthless and lightning-fast clear.
***
By the time he crossed back over the mountain and arrived at the village’s outskirts, it was around 4 a.m. The sky, just beginning to brighten, was painted in a strange, ethereal hue.
If he just ran straight home and slipped inside, the whole thing would be over without a trace. But from the moment he saw the deep blue sky, a strange heaviness began to settle over him.
……?
A sudden itch somewhere behind his eyes. The smell of damp earth digging into his nose, and the lukewarm, clammy air triggered an eerie sense of déjà vu. Slowing down, Cha Eui-sung looked around with a sharp sweep of his gaze.
…This is strange. It feels far too familiar. This area is far from any residential buildings, removed from both the branch school and the road to the city—he should never have passed through here.
Just then, as if it had been waiting, a calm voice brushed against his mind.
“I don’t know. I like dawn. It gives me a weird feeling.’”
Too vivid to be a hallucination. At the same time, the earlier scent of water and earth vanished without a trace. As if he had stepped on a loose stone, Cha Eui-sung’s leg wobbled.
Ah. That’s when he realized—the skill had activated. The one arbitrarily assigned to him by the system: Faded Photograph Fragment.
“Weird feeling?”
“Like this is the only place left in the world. Just the two of us—you and me.”
The voice etched into memory continued to play. The lines were so embarrassingly saccharine that they made his skin crawl as they echoed in his mind. Goosebumps spread across Cha Eui-sung’s arms.
Whatever the context might have been, how could anyone say something like that?
What was even more unsettling was his own mind, which, while eavesdropping on this unfamiliar memory, felt inexplicably satisfied.
He could not understand it, yet he was happy. Anxious and guilty. At the same time, his vision spun and his body swayed.
“Urgh—!”
Something hot surged up from deep inside. Unable to hold it down, a mouthful of crimson blood gushed from Cha Eui-sung’s lips.
He felt no pain, but he was dizzy. Pushing his body to run despite its condition, he finally dropped to his knees and collapsed to the ground.
“Damn it…! Huff, huff…”
Closing his eyes against the dizziness, something strange occurred. Faint images began to pass through the darkness of his shut eyes. A vague figure surfaced for a brief moment—a man with black hair, so blurred and water-streaked that his face could not be made out.
Given that most people in this country had black hair, it was an image less helpful than not seeing anything at all.
“Haaah…”
Curling up quietly, the nausea slowly subsided, and the sensation of sinking into the ground eased. Once he caught his breath, the stench of blood finally punched its way up his nose.
Just as expected. His senses had temporarily shut down, just like last time.
Instead of fear, what came first was a rush of irritation. What kind of insane skill had the system dumped on him that it left him coughing blood on his knees?
He cracked his eyes open. It seemed brighter than before. Just a little longer, and the early-rising elders would begin their rounds.
“Shit…”
With that, Cha Eui-sung cursed under his breath, irritably wiping the blood from his lips as he lifted his head to leave before anyone could spot him.
In the now-brightened view, a pair of large sneakers came into sharp focus.
……!
Cha Eui-sung jerked his head up—and saw a familiar man standing there.
So tall it was a wonder he did not hit his head on the doorframe, wearing those ugly dragonfly glasses and the same expressionless face.
Moon Tae-young.
What the hell is he doing here…?
His blood ran cold. Why was Moon Tae-young in this place, at this hour?
And of all times, why did the skill have to activate now, leaving him collapsed right in front of the guy?
The look on Moon Tae-young’s face as Cha Eui-sung snapped his head up was hard to read. Well, it was a disturbing sight—someone bleeding in the middle of nowhere before dawn.
With his eyelids trembling from the eye contact, Cha Eui-sung saw Moon Tae-young extend a large hand toward him. As if to help him up. Just like the first time they met.
The dizziness had already passed. Ignoring the offered hand, Cha Eui-sung stood on his own. As soon as he straightened his back, Moon Tae-young spoke first in a stiff tone, as though he had been waiting.
“You’re up early.”
He probably wasn’t trying to offer a pleasant morning greeting or compliment his early rising, not in a situation like this. Most likely, it was a veiled interrogation: Where were you this early in the morning?
“You’re up early too, Mr. Moon Tae-young.”
What were you doing here? Returning the suspicious question with one of his own, Cha Eui-sung wiped the rest of the blood from his mouth. But no answer came.
There was a sharp gleam in Moon Tae-young’s eyes.
This is ridiculous. I didn’t feel like anyone was following me.
A skill activating out of nowhere in this bizarre place, and Moon Tae-young showing up here? No way that was a coincidence.
Even if the timing was sketchy, it didn’t feel like he had been tailed. In fact, the look on Moon Tae-young’s face seemed to say he found Cha Eui-sung’s sudden appearance suspicious.
That damn system… could this be its doing?
Come to think of it, no matter what Moon Tae-young had been doing here, there was no way he could have known Cha Eui-sung would be passing through.
And if the skill hadn’t activated, Cha Eui-sung wouldn’t have ended up here either. With all his senses working properly, he would have sensed another presence and bolted like a wild animal.
So if the meeting was pure coincidence, then the skill activation definitely was not.
This crazy system bastard keeps pulling stunts without warning.
Still, the thought that the dialogue played by the skill might be a clue for raising the Savior Gauge sparked some anticipation instead of irritation.
Sure, the timing sucked, but maybe the system had judged this to be the most optimal moment in its own twisted way.
Just then, as things had gone quiet again, Moon Tae-young spoke.
“There’s dew at dawn. You’ll get soaked. Catch a cold like that.”
A roundabout way of saying you look like hell. His eyes had been fixed on Cha Eui-sung’s sleeve—the one still stained from wiping away blood.
Cha Eui-sung reflexively pulled his arm back, but the sharpness in Moon Tae-young’s gaze left him feeling vaguely uncomfortable.
Suddenly, a thought struck him. A quiet, isolated pre-dawn setting. Someone you found bothersome, lying there bleeding.
What would most people do in that situation?
Overlaying his own nature onto the scenario made a chill crawl down his spine.
“Is a cold really the issue? This village is so remote no one would notice if someone disappeared at dawn.”
The atmosphere turned icy in an instant at the pointed jab. Cha Eui-sung smiled deliberately.
Be honest. You thought something weird for a second there, didn’t you? If I lived my whole life never knowing fear, and then some unknown force capable of overpowering me suddenly showed up—I wouldn’t just sit there quietly.
Had those insolent eyes betrayed that exact thought? Because Moon Tae-young’s gaze darkened noticeably.
Chilling. A remote and desolate corner. A sudden appearance by a formidable rival. And Moon Tae-young, of all times, seemed more on edge than usual.
This… this feels like it could go sideways real fast.
Feeling that he probably should not push things any further, Cha Eui-sung broke the silence with a long sigh, easing the tension just a bit.
“Well, I said all that, but I wasn’t doing anything shady. I just happen to wake up early a lot.”
“I see.”
“It’s true. Because at times like this, it feels like I’m the only one left in the world. Though today, someone else had to be here…”
He slipped in a line from the skill dialogue, casually mixed in. Then, as if he regretted saying it, he bit his lip slightly—and for the first time, Moon Tae-young’s frozen expression shifted in a strange way.
Ssshhk— Sssk…
In the still darkness where the world lay asleep, the two Awakened studied each other closely. A long silence stretched between them. The mood hung awkwardly, as if they might speak but didn’t. The system was quiet. Moon Tae-young was quiet.
Eventually, just as Cha Eui-sung was about to turn and walk away after waiting so long—
“Your body. Why is it like that?”
A low, sunken voice broke the silence with a direct question for the first time.
