"Why did you decide to be a Raider?"
The voice didn't echo. In a space like this, sound had nowhere to bounce, swallowed instantly by the surroundings. They were stranded in a seamless, unending white void—an oppressive, featureless room with no walls, no ceiling, and no horizon in sight. It was a blank infinity that offered no sense of scale or direction, wrapping the entire encounter in a surreal, suffocating mystery.
Amidst this blinding white nothingness, a warrior knelt heavily on one knee, his chest heaving violently as he panted for breath. His body was encased in heavy, intricately detailed plate armor; every metal segment, rivet, and gauntlet was deeply scarred by battle, with tattered pieces of fabric hanging loosely from his waist. His breathing was ragged and desperate, the sound of a man pushed to his absolute limit. To anchor himself, his right hand gripped the ornate, engraved hilt of a massive broadsword, its tip driven firmly into the floor. The sharp point pierced the ground, causing tiny, web-like fractures and debris to scatter across the otherwise pristine, unbroken white surface.
Opposite him stood the speaker. A close look at his profile revealed a sharp, powerful jawline covered in a dense, cleanly sculpted beard. The coarse, meticulously trimmed hairs traced perfectly up his cheek, framing a stern, expressionless mouth. Beneath his chin, a heavy collar lined with metallic studs added to his commanding, royal presence. His lips parted just enough to let the heavy, demanding question hang in the empty air.
Why was it exactly…?
The question drifted in the mind, unanswered. Then, the blinding white void vanished, swallowed entirely by a sudden, deep darkness that shifted the tides of memory.
Sixteen years evaporated in a heartbeat, replaced by the sensory overload of a bustling marketplace. Stalls overflowed with vibrant silks and baskets of golden grain. The air was thick with the heavenly scent of fresh, yeasty bread and the smoky sizzle of meat dripping onto hot coals. A young woman moved gracefully through the crowd, her hand clasping that of her three-year-old son, Kin. She looked down at him with a smile that could rival the sun, and the boy grinned back, his large eyes alight with a toddler's endless curiosity.
His presence almost swallowed by the forest of adult legs. He was a tiny figure with a mop of dark, unruly curls that seemed to have a life of their own, bouncing with every tentative step. His face was soft, marked by the roundness of early childhood and wide, liquid eyes that seemed to drink in the entire world. A small, dirt-smudged hand reached upward, his tiny fingers tightly and desperately clutching his mother's hand as she guided him through the throng.
Then, a change in the rhythm of the street.
A group of heavily armored Raiders strode past, their presence parting the crowd like a ship through water. They were titans of iron and leather, their weapons etched with ancient runes and scarred by countless battles. As they marched, the metallic clatter of their gear drowned out the haggling of merchants.
One man's sword, sheathed in a beautifully embossed leather scabbard at his waist, caught the light of the midday sun just right. A single, piercing glint struck the polished metal of the pommel, sending a mesmerizing, hypnotic flash directly into the young boy's eyes.
The child froze in his tracks. His mouth parted in a tiny "o" of wonder, his breath hitching as he stared, utterly spellbound. The reflection of the blade danced in his wide pupils, and for a heartbeat, the marketplace and even the warmth of his mother's hand ceased to exist. He was no longer a boy in a market; he was a witness to a power he hadn't known existed.
Mesmerized, his grip on his mother's fingers began to slacken. As if pulled by an invisible thread, he started to follow the glint of that steel, his small, determined steps leading him away from safety and toward the shadows of the unknown.
He broke into a desperate, hurried jog, his tiny sandals pattering frantically against the uneven cobblestone path that led away from the safety of the market square. Ahead, a colossal, jagged mountain towered like a sleeping titan, its sheer stone slopes blanketed by a dense, dark forest of towering pine trees that clawed toward the heavens. Above the jagged peak, a vast and dramatic sky churned with heavy, sculpted white clouds, casting shifting, giant shadows over the landscape below. The path itself was alive with a chaotic stream of strange, fascinating travelers—a young woman draped in a flowing cloak and a pointed witch's hat, and seasoned mercenaries clad in gleaming armor. The boy darted past a rustic wooden merchant stall overflowing with rows of bright red apples, barely registering the "50% OFF" sign hung on its side. His wide, liquid eyes were locked entirely on the mountain's base, where a massive, ominous hole formed a gaping black cavern that seemed to actively swallow the midday light.
The boy's pace quickened from a jog into a frantic, full-blown sprint. Driven by an overwhelming, primal determination to discover exactly where these armored giants were heading, he threw his entire, fragile body into the chase. He ran blindly, his small fists pumping through the air as he weaved beneath the heavy, swinging hems of long traveler cloaks and slipped effortlessly between the legs of passing adults. Sweat began to bead along his hairline, and his chest heaved with shallow, burning breaths, but the sheer awe in his chest refused to let him slow down. The mysterious pull of the dark cave entrance loomed larger and larger with every stride until, with one final, daring leap of faith, he plunged out of the sunlight and crossed the threshold into the mountain's deep shadow.
The transition was an immediate shock to his senses. The warmth of the marketplace vanished, replaced by a sudden, icy drop in temperature and the heavy scent of copper and damp stone. As feet slowed and his eyes adjusted to the gloom, the sheer, unimaginable scale of the environment completely took his breath away. He found himself standing in a subterranean hall so hidden and impossibly massive that it felt like an underground kingdom. The jagged stone roof arched so high above him that it was entirely lost to a ringing, pitch-black abyss, making the cavern feel completely boundless.
The vast space was teeming with an ocean of hundreds of armed people, the air thick with the deep, echoing resonance of clanking steel, the scraping of whetstones, and the low murmurs of battle-hardened veterans preparing for war. Yet, because he was so incredibly tiny—barely reaching the knees of the mercenaries around him—the boy moved like a ghost. He slipped through the chaotic, crowded hall completely unseen and unnoticed by a single soul, his small stature acting as the ultimate cloak.
Creeping away from the crowd and deeper into a narrower, rocky tunnel branching off the main hall, a sudden, violent din of clashing metal and echoed roars pulled him toward a jagged outcrop. The rugged stone walls of the tunnel were bathed in the cold, ethereal glow of blue lanterns, their light pulsing like a dying heartbeat against the wet rock and casting long, distorted shadows. Peering around the rough rock face, Kins heart stopped. A terrifying battle was unfolding right before his eyes, louder and more brutal than anything he could have dreamed. The monstrosity looming before the child was a relic of pure, unbridled death, its skull etched with a jagged network of hairline fractures that mapped out centuries of decay. Its jaw hung unhinged in a silent, eternal scream, while its eye sockets were vast, bottomless pits of shadow that seemed to swallow the surrounding light. Locked in mortal combat with a small group of adventurers was a monstrous, towering skeleton. Its bare white bones gleamed eerily in the darkness as it raised its massive, clawed hands to strike with unnatural speed. A warrior in leather armor drove a steel blade directly into the creature's exposed ribs, while another raised a heavy round shield just in time to block a sweeping, bone-shattering arm. The young boy stood frozen in the shadows, a single drop of sweat tracing down his cheek, his mouth completely open in awe, as his wide eyes reflected the chaotic, dangerous brilliance of his very first dungeon fight..
Amidst this carnage, one of the adventurers face splattered with dark, viscous ichor glanced toward the periphery and froze. His breath hitched, and his eyes widened in a look of sheer, paralyzing shock; his brain struggled to process the impossibility of seeing a toddler standing in the heart of such a Tier-1 death trap. Ignoring the monster behind him for a fleeting, dangerous second, he dropped heavily to one knee, the metal of his greaves scraping harshly against the dirt as he stared at the boy in disbelief.
"A... a child?" he breathed, his voice a ragged whisper. He leaned in, his face pale beneath the grime of battle. "How did you get in here, kid?".
Kin didn't answer. He stood perfectly still, his small hands clasped together as he stared back at the man. His wide eyes were twin pools of luminous light, reflecting the blue flicker of the lanterns and the violent dance of death before him. In those sparkling pupils, there was no room for terror—only a burgeoning, absolute hunger. He wasn't seeing a nightmare; he was seeing his destiny. One singular thought hammered against his ribs with the force of a war drum: This is what I want to do!
The fierce childhood spark never faded; it simply grew up.
Now, a cool, damp breeze whistled through the mouth of the dungeon as Kin stood before it. His heart pounded—not with the tremors of fear, but with the electric thrum of anticipation. Despite the years, that same awe-struck childhood expression remained etched on his face.
Beside him stood Shino, who carried himself with an easy, casual confidence. Shino stood just an inch taller than Kin, his frame lean and agile. His hair was styled in a crisp, modern undercut that faded perfectly into the sides. He wore a heavy, dark bomber jacket over a clean white top, paired with rugged cargo pants designed for utility.
Kin, by contrast, possessed a slightly broader, more grounded build, amplified by the heavy olive-toned hoodie he wore, which featured a plush, cream-colored fur lining around the hood. A heavy-duty backpack was slung over his shoulders, and he loosely gripped a weighted metal pipe. The two young men walked side-by-side, their sneakers stepping over an ancient floor of cracked, parched earth that looked like a dried riverbed, surrounded by rough, dark stone walls.
They stepped out of the cavernous cavern and up to the registration desk. A thick, clear glass partition separated them from the receptionist, acting as a sterile barrier against the dangers of the dungeon. The Gatekeeper sat slouched behind the glass, her dark hair pulled into a messy, hurried bun held together by a few stray strands. She looked thoroughly exhausted, her cheek resting heavily in her left palm as she stared blankly forward. Her right hand held a black pen poised over a ledger, surrounded by towering, disorganized stacks of paperwork. Directly behind her, a massive wooden bookshelf was tightly packed with old, leather-bound logs and heavy manuals, completely framing her clinical white blazer.
Without looking up from her records, she spoke through the small gap at the bottom of the glass window.
"IDs and levels."
Kin and Shino slid their identification cards through the slot. The Gatekeeper's eyes flicked across their stats, her bored expression shifting slightly as she arched a brow. "And where are your other two members?"
Kin and Shino exchanged a blank look. "Other two members?" they said in unison.
The Gatekeeper sighed, her pen tapping a rhythmic, annoyed beat on the wooden counter. "You need four members to enter. Basic safety regulations. Did you even check the rules?"
Kin's stomach sank. "The Manual..." He remembered the thick, boring book he'd used as a pillow the night before. He'd skimmed it, but in his excitement, that crucial detail had been completely lost. He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck where the fur of his hoodie met his skin. "That completely slipped my mind."
Desperate not to be turned away, Kin leaned slightly closer to the glass partition. "What about reserve raiders?"
The Gatekeeper gave a slow, professional nod, her hand still supporting her tilted head. "You can wait over there in the staging area. I'll pair you with two others."
"Thank you!" Kin said, relief washing over him.
As they walked toward the designated waiting zone—a cold area where other Raiders sat on low wooden benches—Kin spoke in hushed tones with Shino. They discussed their base stats at Level 1. Kin had spent years honing his body and mind through relentless training, and he knew his starting point was far beyond the average recruit.
Shino nudged Kin playfully with his elbow, his bomber jacket rustling against Kin's thick hoodie. "So, have you checked your stats, Kin?"
Kin offered a subtle, confident smile. "I check them every day, you don't know how good it feels seeing a point added to one of your stats"
Shino leaned in, narrowing his eyes. "Let's see 'em."
KIN'S STATS
STRENGTH: 12
AGILITY: 10
INTELLECT: 10
VITALITY: 10
MAGIC POWER: 6
PERCEPTION: 7
After a brief pause, Shino's jaw dropped, and he let out a dramatic cry. "WHAAT!?! You literally have three times my stats! How is that fair?!"
Kin laughed quietly as Shino began to sulk, staring miserably at his own floating interface screen:
SHINO'S STATS
STRENGTH: 4
AGILITY: 3
INTELLECT: 3
VITALITY: 5
MAGIC POWER: 2
PERCEPTION: 2
Kin patted his friend's shoulder reassuringly. "Maybe if you spent less time flirting and more time training—"
Shino shrugged, his natural optimism quickly overriding his momentary depression. He smiled slightly, waving Kin off with a flick of his wrist. "Yeah, yeah, there's nothing wrong with living a little."
Their shared laughter was cut short as the Gatekeeper's voice echoed across the station, calling them back. They jogged up to two waiting Raiders who had just been assigned to their queue.
The first was Stone, a man who completely lived up to his name. He was a towering figure, standing a full head taller than both Shino and Kin, with a chest as broad as a tavern door. He wore reinforced, heavily scratched leather armor and gave a confident nod. "Name's Stone. Level 2."
The second was Riyo, who stood in stark contrast to his partner. Riyo was short and compact, standing nearly a foot shorter than Stone and possessing a quiet, unassuming demeanor. He wore lightweight, dark-colored gear that prioritized agility. "Riyo. Level 1, same as you."
Shino grinned, extending a hand to break the ice. "I'm Shinoh, and this is Kin. First day. Hope that's not a problem."
Stone smirks, his large hand resting casually on the hilt of a broadsword that looked far too heavy for an ordinary man. "Not at all. We're only sticking to the first floor today, so we'll be fine. Let's get going."
They fell into step behind Stone and Riyo, following the steady flow of armed Raiders toward the descending stone passage. Just as Shino and Kin cross the threshold, a sudden call rose behind them—clear, deliberate, and unmistakably directed at them.
"Wait, you two!"
The receptionist lifted her arm from the desk, motioning them back with a crisp, authoritative beckoning gesture. Stone paused, looking puzzled over his massive shoulder, but she shook her head, indicating it was only for the rookies. Shino and Kin traded a quick look before heading back over to the glass partition. Kin leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Did we do something wrong?"
She gave a small, reassuring sweep of her hand across the counter. "Not at all. I just need one more thing from you both."
She slid two thin, official-looking sheets of white paper across the counter. Her tone shifted into something drier, almost bureaucratic, stripping away any lingering warmth. "I just need you to sign one form. It's for If you die in there… who do we contact? Where do your saved coins go? Your belongings—basic protocol."
A brief, suffocating heaviness settled between them. The ambient noise of the staging area seemed to fade. Shino exhaled a long, heavy breath; Kin's posture tightened for a moment, his grip tightening on his metal pipe. Still, they each took a pen and completed the forms with steady, deliberate strokes, signing away their contingencies.
Once done, she gathered the pages with practiced, efficient ease, tapping them against the desk to align the stack. "Right… that's everything." She hesitates, just for a breath, her tired, stressed expression softening into something genuinely empathetic. "Good luck."
Shino nods. Kin offers a respectful dip of his head. Then they turn once more toward the waiting dark of the first floor, quickly catching up to follow behind the broad frame of Stone and the silent silhouette of Riyo.
Entering the dungeon proper, the air turned instantly cold and thick with the scent of ancient stone. Kin immediately noticed two heavily armed guards stationed like iron statues at the very entrance of the first floor.
Kin leaned toward their guide. "Why are there guards at the entrance?"
Stone let out a deep, booming chuckle. "Ah, yeah, that. Apparently, a baby 15 years ago got into the dungeon without anyone noticing."
Embarrassed by the direct mention of his own childhood misadventure, Kin slightly lowered his head, his cheeks turning a bright, burning red as he pulled his fur hood slightly closer.
Shino whistled loudly, the sound echoing off the rocky ceiling. "That's insane."
"Right?!" Stone laughs, slapping his thigh.
As they moved forward into the cavernous depths, dim blue crystals embedded in the rocky terrain illuminated the path, casting long, eerie shadows. Soon, Kin's sharp eyes spotted familiar movements in the distance—the hunched, jagged forms of the exact same monsters from his childhood memory. He turned to Shino, his adrenaline starting to rush, his fingers wrapping tightly around his weapon.
"Shinoh, you ready?" he murmured, gripping his sword.
Shino grins, shifting his weight into a forward stance. "Bring it!"
They rushed into the fray. Kin was a blur of lethal efficiency. He slashed the first creature with a sickening crunch, his remarkably high base stats allowing him to continue taking down the monsters effortlessly. Riyo watches from the rear, his quiet eyes widening in absolute surprise by how fluidly and powerfully Kin was moving for a rookie.
After clearing the first few groups of beasts, a crisp, electronic chime resonated directly in Kin's mind. "Badadum" Level 2 reached.
Miles away, in a starkly different world, the afternoon sun streamed through the pristine windows of a brightly lit executive office. The room was opulently adorned with incredibly rare dungeon artifacts—glowing cores and shattered beast horns. A seasoned man dressed in a sharp, tailored suit sat across from a visibly nervous recruit. The weight of the corporate hierarchy was heavy, yet the old man wore an amused, knowing grin.
The boss asks, "What do you think is the point of entering the dungeons?"
The recruit hesitated, shifting in his leather chair before offering the safest, most obvious answer. "To stop the creatures from coming out?"
The boss laughs, a hearty, rich sound.
"It's the Discoveries Rookie. Every major breakthrough in the last century—every advancement that reshaped our world—came from those depths."
He gestured broadly toward a sleek, crystal-powered lamp illuminating the mahogany desk. "Take the light crystals for example. These lights alone revolutionized energy consumption, slashing greenhouse emissions. But even after a hundred years, we've barely scratched the surface. Our top raiders? They've only made it to the 30th floor."
The rookie swallowed hard, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck as he thought to himself: Just how deep do the dungeons go?
Back in the subterranean dark, a faint, scraping shuffle echoed through the damp dungeon walls. Kin instantly turned his head toward the sound, his enhanced perception instincts sharpening to a razor's edge.
Then—without warning—the solid ground vanished beneath his sneakers.
"Kin!" Shinoh screams, his hand lunging out desperately, catching nothing but empty air.
Kin plunged straight into a yawning, pitch-black abyss, his arms flailing wildly. The violent rush of subterranean air howled past his ears like a hurricane. He twisted his body midair, frantically scrambling for something—anything—to hold onto. His fingers grazed the jagged, slimy rock face, but the sheer, terrifying speed of his descent instantly ripped his grip away, tearing his skin.
Desperation kicked in. He yanks out his short sword, angling the blade downward with all his might.
Clang!
The steel blade scraped violently against the stone wall, sending a brilliant shower of sparks flashing into the suffocating blackness. The friction slowed his terminal velocity just enough before the metal, unable to bear the immense pressure, finally snapped free. He braced his legs for impact.
Thud!
A sharp, blinding wave of pain flared across his entire body as he crashed heavily onto solid stone. Then—a terrifying, deep rumble shook the chamber. Kin lay flat, rolling aside with agonizing effort just as a massive cascade of dislodged rocks fell from above, completely sealing the hole he had dropped through.
Pitch darkness swallowed his vision entirely. A cold, suffocating silence settled over the space.
"Where am I?"
Hands outstretched blindly, Kin managed to get up, taking a slow, cautious step forward. His fingers brushed along a damp, uneven wall that felt coated in ancient moss. He was shivering, his ragged breathing the only audible sound in the oppressive, pitch-black chamber.
Focus on what you can control. His thoughts remained remarkably clean and practical. The dark might swallow everything else, but it couldn't take his mind. He's not afraid. He doesn't need to be. There's no room for doubt. Like everything else, it's just a problem to be dealt with.
Then—his moving foot hit something solid and metallic. He froze.
"Oh, yeah... My light crystal."
Fumbling frantically through his heavy backpack, his fingers wrapped around the familiar, smooth surface of the device. He twisted it. A soft, radiant blue glow pulsed to life, expanding outward. As he looked up, his stomach dropped into a bottomless pit.
He was standing directly behind the back of a hulking, colossal beast. An Ogre, the size of a mature tree, stood perfectly still. The monster easily towered nine feet tall, its muscular back three times the width of Kin's own shoulders. Kin's eyes locked onto a crude, massive wooden club resting in its green, leathery hand as the Ogre slowly began to turn around.
A low, guttural groan rumbles deeply from its thick throat as it turned, its movements sluggish but entirely deliberate. Its bloodshot yellow eyes blinked in heavy irritation against the sudden, piercing blue light of the crystal.
"Aaarghhh..."
Kin stepped back, his boots scraping the stone, his heart hammering violently against his ribs. The Ogre's massive fist tightened around the handle of its club. It was fully waking up.
Shino burst out of the main dungeon entrance into the surface air, his lungs burning as if filled with ash. He barely managed to take a few steps onto the dirt before collapsing heavily to his knees, gasping frantically for oxygen. His heart pounded so hard he could feel it in his teeth.
"I need help! Please... someone!" His voice cracked violently from his breathless, strained lungs.
The crowd of experienced Raiders lingering around the camp entrance turned toward him, startled by the sheer panic in his voice. Two men dressed in heavy, battle-worn gear exchanged quick glances before swiftly approaching the fallen rookie.
One of them, a rugged-looking swordsman with a deeply scarred face, knelt down. "What happened?"
Shino gulped down a massive lungful of air, trying desperately to steady his shaking frame. "My friend—he—he fell! There was a hole—"
Unable to finish his words due to sheer exhaustion, the rugged swordsman cuts in. "Okay got it, Tye." Looking over his shoulder at his companion, the man nods grimly.
In the distance, a woman in sleek, incredibly expensive golden armor stood watching the commotion. Her posture remained casual, but her sharp eyes narrowed with interest.
Deep underground, in the dungeon's suffocating darkness, Kin stood face to face with a living avatar of death.
The Ogre moved with terrifying speed for its size, its massive club cutting through the air like a falling boulder. Kin barely managed to lean his torso back in time; the sheer, violent force of the swing sent a massive blast of displaced wind slicing past his face, whipping his messy hair wildly across his eyes.
He's not only big but fast, too.
Before he could fully regain his balance on the uneven floor, the Ogre capitalized on the opening, lashing out with a devastating side kick.
"Crap—!"
Pure instinct took over his body. Kin raised his remaining broken sword just in time to block. The steel blade barely absorbed the kinetic impact before—
CRACK!
The blade shattered into a dozen flying shards.
Kin was sent flying backward through the air, his body slamming violently against the solid dungeon wall. A sharp, agonizing pain tore through his ribs, and as he gasped for air, a spray of dark blood exploded from his lips. His vision blurred heavily, the edges darkening into unconsciousness. His fingers dug desperately into the dirt floor, wincing in sheer agony, his entire frame shaking violently as he forced his broken body to push itself back up.
Then, a fragment of memory flashed through his mind. The dungeon journals. Page 112 explicitly stated: "Ogres struggle with depth perception due to total blindness in their left eye."
Kin sucked in a sharp, ragged breath, tightening his bleeding fist. His gaze darted to the severed, jagged shard of his sword lying just a few feet away in the dust.
The Ogre roared triumphantly, raising its massive club high above its head for a definitive, crushing blow. But Kin moved first. He dashed explosively to his left—directly into the monster's blind spot. The colossal club came crashing down, completely missing him and splintering the solid stone floor into a crater. Dust and sharp stone debris scattered violently into the air.
Kin seized his split-second chance. He dived through the dust cloud, snatching the jagged half of his broken sword before rolling elegantly back to his feet. The Ogre grunted in sheer confusion, turning its massive head side to side, trying desperately to track its tiny prey. But Kin was already on the move—sliding perfectly into position.
The monster raised its club once more, aiming for sheer, blind destruction. Kin didn't retreat; he ran straight at the towering beast. Squeezing his fists tightly, fresh blood poured out of his left hand as he held the severed blade. As the massive club swung downward in a vertical arc, Kin timed it perfectly and leaped directly onto it, using the flat, wide surface of the descending weapon as a running ramp.
The Ogre's yellow eyes widened in delayed, terrified realization, but Kin had already launched himself high into the air from the club's handle.
"HAAAAA!"
With both hands channeling every ounce of his remaining strength, he drove the jagged, broken blades deep into the Ogre's thick throat. Torrential crimson blood gushed in violent, hot spurts, instantly drenching Kin's entire arm. The Ogre gaged soundlessly, its eyes bulging out of its head. Kin didn't stop. Gritting his teeth through the pain in his ribs, he twisted the broken metal deeper, then ripped it forcefully across the thick muscle.
The Ogre's massive head completely separated from its body.
The monster's giant hands flail weakly in the air for a final moment before its colossal torso collapsed heavily to its knees, making the entire cavernous ground quake beneath its immense weight.
Kin's vision was incredibly blurry from the impact, and the world felt impossibly heavy around him. His fractured ribs ached with every shallow breath, and his left hand trembled violently as he clutched the jagged sword shard, using it like a cane against the floor to support himself upright. Dark blood dripped steadily from his palm, staining the giant Ogre corpse below.
As he steadied his footing, a glowing system notification blinked rapidly in front of his eyes. He symbols barely registered at first through his concussed mind, but then, the sudden explosion of numbers on his status screen caught his attention.
Level 6.
His eyes darted across the text:
"Badadum" Level 6 STRENGTH: 32 AGILITY: 30 VITALITY: 30 MAGIC POWER: 26 PERCEPTION: 27
Kin blinked in utter disbelief, not entirely sure if he was hallucinating from blood loss. His breath came harder now, sharp, shallow, and fast.
"That doesn't make sense..." he muttered to himself, his voice raspy.
He scrolled down the glowing interface list, his focus snapping violently to a brand-new entry at the bottom:
Skill Acquired: [The Brave] – Doubles all stats.
His lungs stumbled, freezing in his chest.
"…No way."
The initial shock of the victory faded, giving way to profound disbelief. "A skill that doubles all stats?"
Kin took a slow, measured breath, forcing his focus back to reality, centering his racing mind. Focus on what you can control. The words echoed in his mind like a comforting mantra. He slowly pulled himself up, leaving his ruined, broken blades embedded deep within the Ogre's corpse.
A small, breathless smile touched his lips. "That's… kinda busted though."
He certainly wasn't complaining, but a skill this powerful didn't feel normal. Standard skills usually followed a minor percentage pattern. But this? He gripped his empty hands. For now, it was survival.
A faint rustling broke his train of thought. Heavy, rhythmic footsteps. Low, guttural grunts echoing from the corridor ahead. Kin instantly ducked his body into a narrow, vertical crevice between the jagged stone walls, holding his breath completely.
Three more massive Ogres lumbered past his hiding spot, their monstrous, green-skinned forms briefly illuminated by the faint glow of the blue dungeon moss. Their foul, metallic stench clung heavily to the stagnant air.
Kin didn't move a single muscle. He didn't breathe.
After what felt like an absolute eternity, the heavy thudding of their footsteps disappeared into the absolute darkness of the cavern. He exhaled slowly, his muscles incredibly stiff from staying pinned against the cold stone.
Far above, on the dungeon's relatively safe first floor, Tye knelt down, surveying the jagged edge of the hole where Kin had fallen. The rugged swordsman's calloused hand appeared out from the dust of the hole as he stood back up, wiping dirt from his trousers.
"The collapse sealed it up completely. Judging by the depth… your friend could be on the seventh floor. Maybe deeper."
Shino's heart tightened painfully in his chest. "So… he's still alive, right?"
The experienced raider's heavy silence answered him louder than words ever could. Shino clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white, his vision blurring rapidly with hot tears. Without another word, he turned on his heel and bolted out of the dungeon passage toward the surface.
"Hey, wai—!" One of the nearby raiders started to call after the hysterical rookie.
Tye stopped him instantly with a sharp, warning glance. Closing his eyes, the veteran slowly shook his head.
Elsewhere, back in the sprawling neon-lit city, the rookie sat frozen across from the executive boss, his curiosity growing despite his fear. "What about raiders who awaken skills?"
The boss, acknowledging the question with a slow nod, leaned back in his chair.
"Skills are great, giving raiders immense power. But they're rare."
The rookie frowned, adjusting his collar. "Why do only some raiders get them?"
The boss's amused smile completely faded. He tapped his unlit cigar firmly against the mahogany table, his gaze turning distant and cold. "Nobody knows."
A heavy moment of silence passed between them before the rookie asked in a hushed tone, "Do you think we'll ever make it deeper into the dungeon?"
The boss chuckled dryly, the warmth returning to his eyes. "We're already working on it."
At Kin's humble family home in the city suburbs, a frantic, heavy fist hammered relentlessly against the wooden front door.
A moment later, the lock clicked, and the door swung open, revealing Kin's mother. She smiled warmly, wiping her hands on an apron.
"Oh, Shinoh! Aren't you supposed to be with Kin?"
Shino stood on the porch, his breath shaking violently, his face twisted in absolute anguish and tear-streaked guilt. Seeing his expression, the maternal warmth in Kin's mother's face completely drained away. The color rapidly followed, leaving her pale.
"…Where's Kin?"
Deep within the subterranean labyrinth, Kin was navigating an entirely different world.
"The only reason I've made it this far is my map. It shows me where the monsters are, letting me slip past unnoticed. But I'm unarmed. Still, thanks to my increased level and new skill, I can sense creatures before they get too close."
Kin moved with absolute care, his steps completely silent against the ice-cold stone floor of the dungeon's tenth floor. Thanks to his skyrocketing perception stat, his senses were sharper than ever before; the tiny hairs on his body prickled with an electric warning. Something was incredibly close.
Kin froze mid-stride, inhaling deeply through his nose. "Footsteps. More than one."
His eyes flicked instantly toward a nearby rock crevice. Three Red Goblins emerged from the shadows. They were small, wiry creatures standing barely up to Kin's waist, their hunched bodies restless and twitching.
"Seventh-floor creatures? What are they doing here?"
His gaze locked onto the weapons gripped tightly in their clawed hands—wicked, dark, red-tinted daggers. They were small compared to an Ogre's club, but incredibly lethal. Kin's fists tightened at his sides. He desperately needed a weapon.
"The ogre's club was too big to carry… but those daggers?"
He weighed his options in a split second, his heart rate steadying. His fists clenched and unclenched.
"Do I risk fighting barehanded… or sneak out and keep playing it safe?"
The trio of goblins trudged slowly past his hiding spot, completely unaware of the apex predator hiding in the shadows. This was his perfect chance to slip away into the dark and escape.
But as the goblins walked past, Kin took a firm footstep forward—not by accident, but by absolute choice.
The heavy thud of his boot echoed sharply through the dim, narrow corridor. The goblins froze instantly. Slowly, their ugly, long-eared heads turned toward the sound.
Kin stood fully illuminated in the corridor, his expression perfectly steady, his shoulders squared. Slowly, he shifted his weight into a flawless fighting stance. There was no hesitation. No fear.
Kin exhaled a long, cold breath into the dark. "No more running!"