“……said earlier that they were done. Looks like the dungeon was in worse shape than reported, so the fight dragged on longer.”
“Damn, I bet they’re seriously in Smile Mode right now.”
“They actually called already. Sounded pretty fired up, so I managed to convince them to stop and rest first. But apparently they insisted on driving and took off anyway……”
“Well, at least they’re headed this way. That’s a relief. I booked a place nearby, so just get them there and keep them out of sight.”
“Ah, one sec. They’re calling again. Yes, this is Kim Cheol-ung. Yes, yes. Uh-huh.”
It was a short exchange, but Cha Eui-sung caught everything he needed to. Whoever they were waiting for was coming here—probably still amped up from the fight.
Hmm. Cha Eui-sung slowly blinked. It seemed like every staff member gathered here had been mobilized for the sake of one single Hunter who had cleared the dungeon.
Did the Hunter Association usually pull this many resources together for one person? Especially when the Bureau of Regulation exists?
The Bureau and the Association often butted heads, but cooperation wasn’t rare. Since both organizations were partly aligned in their goals of social stability and group advancement, they knew how to play nice when things escalated.
Especially for A-rank and higher Hunters—those were often called in for dungeon management or national security issues. The Association and the Bureau quietly split the workload with an unspoken understanding.
So if an unstable dungeon had unexpectedly emerged, it was perfectly possible that a high-ranking Association Hunter would get involved.
This is bad.
A creeping sense of dread brushed the edge of his thoughts. The more you know, the more you worry.
Cha Eui-sung frowned, silently hoping his suspicion was just overthinking—
“Wait, what? Just now? Sir, they said they’re almost here!”
“Outta nowhere? No, wait. Not almost. Isn’t that them right there?”
“Wait, what—oh? Oh no—!”
Voices suddenly rose in panic. Association staff members bolted outside, and from afar, the faint hum of an engine grew louder.
Curious, Cha Eui-sung stuck his head out and looked past their retreating backs.
VROOOOOM—
SKEEEEEEECH—!
…What the—
CRASH!
A luxury foreign car came flying down the street and absolutely wrecked the rear end of a badly parked vehicle.
Whoever it was, they’d aimed squarely at the car’s awkwardly protruding corner—like they were punishing it for its shitty parking job.
Even a bystander could tell: that wasn’t an accident. It was deliberate.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The car alarms blared as the crushed vehicle wailed in protest. The sudden explosion of noise started drawing a crowd to the once-quiet street.
Through the growing throng, Cha Eui-sung spotted the destroyed black car with its entire rear end obliterated.
That must’ve been a hell of a hit—its crumpled license plate had flown all the way to his feet.
[5XX-mo XXXX]
A recently-issued license plate he recognized way too well stabbed into his vision.
Cha Eui-sung looked back and forth between the white number plate and the mangled car, his mind blanking out.
What the hell?
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The car let out a pitiful mechanical wail, as if calling for its owner. The blaring alarm frayed nerves and stirred chaos at the scene.
Bystanders began murmuring. Association staff broke into teams and moved with practiced speed.
In the surreal spectacle unfolding before him—part comedy, part tragedy—he saw: People taking pictures.Non-Awakened staff shooing them off with polite requests or thinly veiled threats. Cops sprinting from the nearby station. Hunters joining them in hurried conversation. One Hunter rushing over to check the wrecked car for passengers. Staffers frantically making calls. Someone else charging toward the wreckage.
And finally…
From the bashed-in bumper of the luxury car, came a crack—a sickening wrenching noise.
THUNK! SCRRRREEECH—!
An expensive door was ripped off from the inside and hurled to the ground.
The heavy slab of metal scraped across the asphalt, sending sparks flying.
Screams erupted from the shocked onlookers. Cops stepped in to calm the crowd.
Apparently, ever since dungeons started popping up, they’d gotten real good at incident management—cleaning up accidents, keeping witnesses quiet, issuing warnings—it was all running like a well-oiled machine.
“Ah, young man! It’s nothing, see? We’re just standing here, right? In our Taeju County, if we’re gonna rise up, it starts with civic responsibility, yeah?”
Most of the rubberneckers were local shopkeepers, since the accident happened away from the main roads. The old man’s rambling turned into an impromptu gag order, and oddly enough, it worked.
The chaos died down in an instant. Even the blaring alarms suddenly fell silent.
After several stern warnings and polite pleas, the last of the bystanders finally drifted away.
And at last—from the now wide-open driver’s seat—a tall figure emerged.
A man dressed in typical dungeon combat gear, topped with a khaki leather jacket.
He was huge, broad-shouldered, long-limbed. His long hair, faded and tangled, hung past his neck. Even with an obviously foul mood, he wore a forced grin that pulled at his eyes.
Fuck.
The back of Cha Eui-sung’s neck went rigid. Cold sweat trickled down his spine.
He forgot about the totaled car and instinctively backed into the alley again.
He hadn’t wanted to meet this person—especially not like this. He hadn’t even imagined it would happen.
Maybe this was just a dream. Maybe he was still curled up in bed, fast asleep.
But the chatter of staff and the vivid clangs of cleanup were far too real.
Still dazed, he crept along the alley wall toward the crash site.
Peeking out again, he saw Association employees surrounding the man.
“Hunter Go! Are you alright?”
“Me? I’m always alright. If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t’ve sent me in. Just have the Association take care of the damages. Oh Se-dan won’t say shit about it anyway.”
“Ah, of course. Understood. Also, we heard the dungeon was significantly different from the reported info. We sincerely apologize for that—”
“Forget it. The Bureau’s gonna measure it themselves anyway. No point in a low-level employee saying sorry.”
The man’s gray hair was slicked back behind his ears—not with wax, but dried smears of blood that hadn’t been cleaned off.
His words were sharp and impatient, but his eyes held a dry, almost amused look.
The staff fell silent, reading his mood, and quietly handed him a towel.
Go Yeong-won……
An S-rank Hunter from the Hunter Association. A face that showed up every time you turned on the TV.
Someone so ridiculously good-looking that he’d have been famous even without being a Hunter.
And, in Cha Eui-sung’s Second Life—an aggravating presence who’d been a thorn in his side for far too long.
And now, for some unfathomable reason, that very man was here—wiping blood from his hair with a damp towel.
“Cha Eui-sung-ssi, be honest with me. Did those damn Association executives get some dirt on you or something?”
A soft voice from his memory brushed past his ear.
Feeling increasingly uneasy, Cha Eui-sung slipped his head back between the buildings.
What was this? It felt like his Second Life—what he’d left behind when he regressed—had clung to him like a burdock burr, hitching a ride on his sleeve.
It didn’t help that the man’s appearance was exactly the same as the last time he’d seen him before the regression.
Back then, his face had at least been clean and neat, but now it was scratched up—probably from a brutal fight at Jeongchoduk.
He was the kind of guy who wouldn’t struggle even against a reemerged S-rank Golem, so something must’ve gone seriously wrong in Jeongchoduk after he went in.
Rustle.
He looked down to find he’d stepped on a piece of litter.
Startled, he instinctively pulled back again, but realizing the small noise had gone unnoticed, he calmed himself.
Right. As long as I don’t run into him, it’s fine. The car’s the only real problem…
It wasn’t even that expensive of a car, but it was the first big thing he’d splurged on after his regression.
He wasn’t the sentimental type to get attached to inanimate objects, but seeing the mangled wreck put him in a foul mood.
He really didn’t want to catch that guy’s attention. Should he just ditch the thing and make a run for it?
He’d be contacted through the police eventually anyway…
Just as he was knee-deep in his dilemma, voices drifted toward him again. Go Yeong-won’s tone had softened, sounding calmer now.
“We’ve booked a room for you, in case you’d like to rest before heading back.”
“They told you to calm me down because I’d be hard to deal with if I went straight back, right?”
“No, it’s not like that…”
Of course it was. Who the hell wanted to deal with an S-rank Hunter on edge from an unexpected battle?
Still, Go Yeong-won was rational enough that once he cooled off, he probably wouldn’t cause further trouble.
He had already vented by plowing into a car.
And judging by how he’d stayed inside until the gawkers all scattered, that had been the extent of his tantrum.
Good. That means I can safely bolt now. I’ll figure out the dungeon situation later.
The only problem was that his car had been the punching bag for said tantrum.
Cha Eui-sung rubbed his forehead, trying to figure out how the hell to get home now.
That car was done for—about to be towed away and unusable for a while.
Was there even a taxi around here that went to Cheongseri?
Would he have to hike over the mountain path?
Still, he was grateful he wouldn’t be running into Go Yeong-won face-to-face. That was something.
“The battle ran longer than expected, so we figured some rest would be good. We’ve even brought in a selection of specialty liquors. Just let us know when you’re ready and we’ll send the van.”
“Park…”
“Park Jeong-su, sir.”
“Mr. Park Jeong-su, aren’t you leaving with the others?”
“No, sir. We’ve still got the accident site to manage, and we need to regroup with the team stationed at the dungeon. We also have to contact the vehicle’s owner and speak with them, so we’ll be here a bit longer.”
Go Yeong-won had probably been assigned only familiar staff by Oh Se-dan, yet he didn’t even remember their names.
So typically Go Yeong-won.
Not that he showed any dislike or animosity toward them, which made it all the more baffling.
That staff member was probably either Unawakened or below B-rank.
Cha Eui-sung casually speculated and glanced at his phone.
It’s already 8 o’clock.
Still no reply from Moon Tae-young.
Was it possible the message had gone through fine, but he actually knew something?
Or was he just busy?
His thoughts wavered. Thinking it was just a misunderstanding made him feel better— but the moment suspicion crept in, it unsettled him all over again.
There had been times in the past when replies came late.
Sometimes it was a reception issue, supposedly.
But if his phone wasn’t working, he should’ve said something.
What part of that village didn’t get signal anyway…?
……!
Mid-grumble, Cha Eui-sung bit his lip hard.
Now that he thought about it, there was a place where no signal could reach.
A space beyond the reach of every transmission on Earth—
The Dungeon.
