Mining was never an easy job. No one wanted to drag around a kid like Nabin—young, inexperienced, and barely able to hold his own. The people in this line of work were scraping the bottom of the barrel themselves. They had no room for generosity when they could hardly manage their own share.
Meeting Mr. Kim had been one of the rare strokes of luck in Nabin’s otherwise grueling life. With Mr. Kim’s help, Nabin was able to borrow gear without paying a cent and learned how to identify high-grade mana stones, along with techniques to extract them more efficiently and with less strain.
Had he gone in alone, Nabin might not have lasted even a few days in the mines. He would have wrecked his health and been forced to hunt for yet another job.
Thanks to Mr. Kim, Nabin was now considered a seasoned veteran—consistently pulling in more mana stones than the daily average. He worked hard enough for two people and had managed to survive as a miner up until now.
But as profitable as mining could be, the toll it took on the body was brutal. Few lasted more than a decade. Most quit within a few years, driven out by chronic illnesses that came with the work.
Nabin had a sense of how this would end, but he had no other options. The hourly wage was so high that no part-time job could compare. On top of that, he could earn bonuses for mining beyond his assigned quota.
It was not just about paying off a loan shark. He also needed to cover his mother’s medical bills. She had suffered a violent seizure early last year and had been admitted to a specialized clinic for Espers addicted to illegal drugs.
Thankfully, her condition had stabilized since her hospitalization, but the treatment costs were astronomical—enough to make his jaw drop. Addicts of illegal substances were excluded from any government healthcare support.
Even just paying the loan interest was overwhelming. If Nabin wanted to afford her treatment, he had no choice but to work himself to exhaustion. He scrimped on food and clothes, squeezing every last penny to keep going.
Thankfully, with consistent daily care, his mother had started staying lucid for longer stretches.
“What have I done… Nabin, I am so sorry… I’m so, so sorry…”
Every time she regained clarity, she would weep with guilt, apologizing over and over. Watching her shrink into herself like a criminal, Nabin would pull her emaciated body into his own and quietly cry into her shoulder.
She could not even comprehend what she had done. This was the child her husband had died to protect. The baby she had promised—pinky sworn—to raise as the happiest child in the world.
But when her mind cleared, the boy’s face was already worn down by years of hardship. His tiny hands were a mess of cuts and scars, so riddled with wounds that there was hardly a patch of unbroken skin.
He had been frail since he was little. Now, every time he coughed, it sounded like his lungs might come up with it. Watching him cough so violently it seemed his heart might burst—her own heart shattered.
She had once decided to die, thinking it would be better than being a burden. In one of her rare lucid moments, she tied a cloth to the doorknob and slipped her neck through the loop.
“Mom, please no… If you die, I’ll die too… Please, just live with me…”
Even someone like her—he still called “Mom.” He clung to her, begging her not to die, saying he could not live if she was gone. At that moment, pride meant nothing. She clung to life with no dignity left.
All she could do now was grit her teeth and endure the hospital’s brutal treatments. She gave it everything she had to recover her body even a little faster. She could not help carry the burden her son was shouldering alone—but she refused to weigh him down any further.
Yet her body was already beyond saving. Even so, Nabin would whisper that everything was going to be okay. That she should stop worrying about the loan or the medical bills and focus on getting better.
Mr. Kim snapped, saying, “What kind of mother is that?” and urged Nabin to flee the country—illegally if needed—just to get out from under Black Finance’s grip. But to Nabin, she was the only person in the world keeping him grounded.
“Still, the mana stones today are top quality. We might even get a bonus if this keeps up.”
Mr. Kim examined the day’s haul with a satisfied grin. Nabin, standing beside him, silently counted the stones bulging in his pouch and did a quick mental tally of how much his daily pay would be.
Miners usually worked on fixed-term contracts, and their wages were calculated by the hour. While all Espers and Guides in Korea were officially affiliated with the K Ability User Center, mana stones could still be traded by private companies.
Some Espers and Guides were dispatched temporarily to companies for contract work.
While mining in abandoned dungeons, Nabin occasionally ran into Ability Users. Since awakenings typically occurred at age twenty, Nabin often found himself quietly wishing—desperately—that he would become one of them.
Even a C-rank Ability User could earn more in a day than a miner made in weeks—enough to wipe out even the towering mountain of debt that loomed over Nabin’s life.
But awakening as an Ability User was a matter of sheer luck. So instead, Nabin focused on something more within reach.
He and Mr. Kim were currently employed by HK Corp. Though it had started as a modest business, HK had been one of the first to dive into the mana stone market after the world changed—and it had since grown into one of South Korea’s most prominent companies.
Nabin’s goal was to become a full-time, official miner with HK Corp. Even as a miner, a regular position came with significantly better pay and full benefits. He had even heard that employees could get financial support for sick family members as part of the company’s welfare plan. It was the one thing he was counting on.
Not long ago, the recruitment manager for HK Corp’s mining division had gathered the current batch of temporary workers and announced that they would soon be hiring full-time employees. It was not an empty promise.
Mr. Kim, along with other miners, all said the same thing—Nabin was the top contender. By now, he had become a respected veteran among them.
“Hey, Kim! Hurry up! They’re closing the dungeon an hour early today.”
“What? Why all of a sudden?”
“HK Corp is running a training exercise for a new batch of dispatched Espers. Just hustle and finish your quota.”
Nabin’s face clouded over as he sat beside Mr. Kim, chewing on a rice ball. The mana stones they had mined today were of decent quality, but still not enough to qualify for an incentive. Just meeting the quota would not be enough to cover the interest on the loan.
Noticing Nabin’s expression, Mr. Kim glanced over and quickly stuffed the rest of his rice ball into his mouth. Nabin followed suit, cramming his own rice ball into his mouth until his cheeks bulged.
“Damn it. I knew things were going too smoothly. Nabin, this won’t do. Let’s head farther in. If the dungeon closes an hour early, what we’ve got won’t cut it.”
“Okay.”
They technically had enough, but Mr. Kim knew Nabin’s situation well enough to push for more. Nabin nodded, then began gathering his gear, which had been left scattered around.
Although dungeons were labeled “abandoned” once monster sightings ceased, that did not guarantee total safety. Monsters still occasionally emerged from within, and it was not rare to see headlines about miners getting injured—or even killed—by surprise attacks in such places.
For that reason, most miners chose to cluster near the entrance, where it was relatively safer. Being in a group did not eliminate the risk, but it was still better than encountering a monster alone deep inside.
The trade-off, of course, was that high-quality mana stones were much harder to come by near the entrance. You had to push into untouched areas of the dungeon to find the good ones.
On any other day, they would not have taken such a risk. But with their workday suddenly cut short by an hour, both Nabin and Mr. Kim were pressed for time. Nabin’s circumstances left him with little room for caution. And Mr. Kim, who cared deeply for the boy, was not about to let him venture into danger alone.
Their weary footsteps echoed through the dark as they made their way deeper into the dungeon.
“Is that Mr. Kim and Nabin? It’s dangerous going that far in…”
One of the miners, friendly with Mr. Kim, considered calling out to stop them. But he, too, knew enough about Nabin’s situation to hold back.
Yes, monsters could appear even in abandoned dungeons—but it was rare. All he could do was hope today would pass without incident, like every other day had so far. At least during his time working as a miner, there had never been any accidents. He forced down the unease tightening in his chest.
But as if to mock his fragile hope, a faint, eerie current of mana began to stir deeper within the dungeon. It was subtle, but distinct—an energy any Esper would have sensed immediately.
Tragically, there were no Espers here—only ordinary people incapable of detecting mana. And so, no one noticed the slow, creeping shape of disaster beginning to take form.
