Chapter Text
Being called the world's weakest hunter wasn’t something Sung Jin-Woo liked hearing—but he was used to it.
He never asked for that title. It was one of those things people handed to him out of habit, like a cruel joke passed around until it stuck. E-rank. The bottom of the barrel. That’s all he was to most. He didn’t need to hear them say it anymore; he could see it in the way they looked at him, those sideways glances filled with pity, or worse, annoyance. Every raid he joined was another round of whispers behind barely cupped hands. They tried to lower their voices, sure, but their words still cut deep.
“I’ve been hearing you old geezers…” Jin-Woo muttered under his breath, his shoulders slumping as a tired sigh escaped his lips. His breath misted faintly in the cold morning air.
Being a hunter wasn’t glamorous. Not for someone like him. But it was all he had.
It wasn’t like he chose this life, more like the world chose it for him. No special talents. No connections. Just a normal guy trying to stay afloat. But in a world where monsters spilled into reality and people with powers became celebrities or soldiers, even a guy like him could find a place… if he was willing to risk dying every day for a little cash.
And Jin-Woo needed that cash. His mother’s hospital bills didn’t pay themselves. No one was going to lend a helping hand to the weakest hunter in Korea.
He turned a corner, hands in his coat pockets, and spotted a mobile coffee van parked near the raid staging area. The smell of roasted beans teased his nose. Maybe he could at least get a warm drink before heading to the gate. Something small for comfort.
“Hi, may I have a cup of coffee?” he asked, his voice polite but weary.
The man in the blue cap behind the van glanced up, expression already apologetic.
“Sorry, we ran out a while ago,” he said with a slight shrug. “Too many hunters this morning.”
Jin-Woo gave him a tired smile, the kind you wear when you're used to small disappointments piling up like receipts.
“Man… not even a coffee,” he muttered to himself, turning away as he resumed his walk toward the staging area.
Before he could take more than a few steps, a familiar voice rang out, making him freeze like a cat caught knocking something off a counter.
“Ahh! Jin-Woo, you’re hurt again!”
He turned slowly, sheepish, as a girl with long orange hair rushed up to him. Ju-Hee. Her fingers clutched the strap of her shoulder bag tightly, her eyes scanning his face in alarm.
“Oh, hi. Looks like Ms. Ju-Hee is attending this raid too?” he asked quickly, attempting to redirect the conversation, though his bandaged cheek and bruised brow were already doing all the talking.
“Of course I’m attending! But that’s not the issue here,” Ju-Hee scolded. “Why is your face always like this?!”
Jin-Woo scratched the back of his head awkwardly, glancing away from her concerned gaze.
“Dunno… it just sorta happened while I was hunting. Haha...” he chuckled weakly, sitting down on a nearby bench as she followed him.
Ju-Hee didn’t laugh. She just sat beside him, studying the small wounds scattered across his arms and the faint limp in his right leg.
He told her about the last dungeon run how it was only an E-rank gate. Nothing too dangerous on paper. But because he was the weakest one in the group, the others barely paid him any mind. No one thought to bring a healer. Why waste resources on someone who’d probably slow them down? It wasn’t cruel just practical.
Even so, he’d gone. He always went. He needed the money.
“I’m used to it,” Jin-Woo said softly, almost like he was trying to convince himself more than her. “It’s fine.”
Ju-Hee didn’t reply. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her eyes didn’t leave his face. There were a thousand things she probably wanted to say, but she didn’t say any of them. Instead, she reached into her bag and took out a small healing salve, gently dabbing it onto one of the fresher cuts on his hand.
“Everyone, gather up!” a loud voice called out.
The two of them turned to see Mr. Song standing in front of the dungeon gate, his large frame casting a long shadow on the glowing blue portal behind him.
All the hunters who were joining the raid began to shuffle into place, gathering in a half-circle as Mr. Song began his briefing. He looked around at the group, eyes scanning the faces before him.
“I’ll be leading today’s dungeon raid,” he said, his voice confident and steady.
No one objected. In fact, a few people nodded approvingly. Mr. Song was a veteran solid and reliable. A good choice for keeping things organized.
Jin-Woo stood slowly, adjusting the worn strap of his equipment bag. His body ached more than he let on, but he moved like it didn’t matter.
As the group began heading into the portal one by one, Mr. Kim a gruff middle-aged hunter with a permanent frown glanced back over his shoulder at Jin-Woo.
“Mr. Sung,” he said with a wry tone, “try not to get yourself killed back there, alright?”
There was no real malice in his voice, just a tired kind of sarcasm. The kind you use when someone keeps showing up even when they shouldn’t.
Jin-Woo gave a small laugh, more out of habit than amusement.
“No promises,” he said, stepping forward as the glowing light of the gate swallowed him whole.
The battle still raged on, chaos echoing through the damp dungeon walls. Blades clashed, spells ignited the air, and monstrous shrieks of goblins echoed through the chamber.
And yet, amidst it all, Sung Jin-Woo found himself sitting on the cold, cracked stone floor his breath shallow, his body aching. He barely remembered how he got there. One moment he was dodging a goblin’s crude dagger, the next he was crumpled on the ground, his knee searing with pain.
“Hold still,” Ju-Hee’s voice said gently but firmly. The B-rank healer was kneeling beside him, her hand glowing a soft, pulsing green just above his injured knee. The warmth of her healing spell washed over him, easing the worst of the pain but not erasing the exhaustion that clung to every part of him.
Jin-Woo sat there in silence, watching the green light shimmer across his skin. He wasn’t sure what hurt more, his body, or the fact that once again, he was the only one needing to be patched up.
“You’re hopeless,” Ju-Hee muttered, not looking at him as she continued her spell. “Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Why are you so stubborn about being a hunter?”
He glanced up at her. Her brows were knit with worry, her lips pressed into a tight line. She wasn’t angry. She was scared.
Jin-Woo lowered his eyes. “...Sorry.”
That was all he could say. What else could he say?
While the others fought with experience and power, wielding their swords, axes, and magic—Jin-Woo had only his dull blade and sheer willpower. He didn’t even have the stamina to stand alongside them without constantly risking his life. Now he just sat back, watching like a spectator, while everyone else did the real work.
Ju-Hee looked up at him, her voice softer now. “Jin-Woo… is there any reason you haven’t quit? You know this isn’t working. Why are you still here?”
The question lingered in the air, cutting through the sound of goblins being slaughtered across the room.
He hesitated, then gave a crooked smile and chuckled. “I’m just a hunter for fun. If I don’t do this, I might actually die of boredom.”
It was a lie, and they both knew it. But it was easier to say than the truth.
He couldn’t tell her that he stayed because his mother lay in a hospital bed, unconscious for years. Or that his younger sister was approaching college age, and he didn’t have the means to support her education. Or that despite how pathetic he looked, this job—this dangerous, humiliating job—was the only thing keeping his family afloat.
So he laughed. She didn’t.
Across the chamber, the rest of the group had finished the fight. The last goblin fell to the ground with a shriek, and a wave of cheers erupted. A few hunters leaned over the corpses, collecting the glowing magical cores embedded within the monsters.
Even one C-rank core was worth thousands. A good payday, especially for mid-level hunters. But for Jin-Woo, who had barely survived, there was only a small, dull-glowing core in his hand an E-rank drop, as low as it gets.
He looked down at it quietly. After all the blood, all the bruises and pain… this was all he had to show for it.
Just one little core.
He closed his hand around it, holding it tight as if it might disappear. It was never enough. No matter how hard he worked, how much he risked, it was never enough.
“Hey! Everyone! There’s another entrance over here!”
The voice rang out from the far side of the dungeon chamber. Hunters turned, some surprised, some immediately alert.
Jin-Woo stood slowly, brushing the dust from his pants as he hobbled over to see what the commotion was about. Ju-Hee followed, her expression tense.
Sure enough, near the far wall of the cavern, a portion of the stone had changed, revealing a narrow, arched corridor that pulsed faintly with magical energy. The signature of a second gate—a hidden passage deeper into the dungeon.
Mr. Song stepped forward, his hands still faintly burning with fire magic, surveying the newly revealed path.
“It’s likely the boss is down there,” he said, turning back to address the group. “The gate won’t close until the dungeon boss is defeated. If another group finds and kills it first, our profits will be cut. I say we go in and finish the job.”
Murmurs broke out among the hunters. Some nodded, eager for more loot. Others looked unsure. It had already been a long fight. Their ranks were tired.
Mr. Song raised his hand. “Let’s vote. We’re seventeen in total. A majority decides.”
One by one, the hunters cast their votes. It wasn’t long before the tally stood at eight in favor, eight against.
All eyes turned to Jin-Woo, who had remained silent at the back of the group with Ju-Hee. Her hand lightly touched his arm.
“You don’t have to,” she whispered. “You’ve done enough. You don’t have to keep pushing yourself like this.”
But Jin-Woo wasn’t sure if he had a choice.
His thoughts spun. Rent was due. His mother’s hospital bills were stacking up. His sister’s tuition was approaching. And all he had in his pocket was one E-rank magical core. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough.
He looked down at the core in his hand, then slowly tightened his fist around it.
He stepped forward.
“I’m going,” he said firmly, raising his voice.
There was a brief silence.
Jin-Woo nodded once to himself, as if to seal the decision.
‘Just one more time,’ he thought. ‘This is all for my family.’
And with that, the vote was decided. The gate ahead loomed like the open jaws of a beast—and still, he walked forward.
“Aren’t we going too far in?”
The voice broke the uneasy silence that had settled over the group. It bounced off the stone walls of the passage like a whispered doubt trying to grow louder.
“How long have we been walking?” another hunter asked, his voice tinged with fatigue.
“About forty minutes,” someone answered, checking the time.
Forty minutes.
They’d been walking deeper and deeper into this cave for nearly an hour now, the air getting colder, damper, and heavier with every step. The dungeon didn’t feel like an ordinary one anymore. The longer they walked, the more it felt like they were leaving reality behind and stepping into something dangerous.
Sung Jin-Woo trudged beside Ju-Hee, his steps a little slower than the others’. His eyes dropped down to the ground for a moment, and then he glanced at her. She looked tense, her arms folded, gaze forward, not saying much.
“Hey… sorry,” he said quietly, almost too softly to be heard.
Ju-Hee looked over at him, confused. “About what?”
Jin-Woo rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “For… forcing you to come here after I voted yes.”
Ju-Hee’s gaze dropped, and her lips pressed into a tight line. She didn’t say anything right away. Her silence hit harder than any scolding.
“Are you… really okay?” Jin-Woo asked, this time with more weight behind the question.
She raised her head, and when she looked at him, Jin-Woo flinched. If looks could kill, he’d be dead on the spot. He shut his eyes instinctively as she gave a small, frustrated huff. He expected another round of grumbling, another heartfelt scolding. She had every right—after all, if it weren’t for her healing magic, he would’ve died ten times over by now.
“Are you really sorry?” she asked flatly.
Jin-Woo ducked his head again like a guilty kid caught red-handed. Ju-Hee stared at him for a moment, then sighed.
But instead of raising her voice, she surprised him. Her fingers laced together behind her back and her tone softened slightly.
“If you’re that sorry… how about treating me to some food after this?”
Jin-Woo blinked. He looked up, uncertain if he heard her right. “Huh?”
She gave him a sideways glance, one brow raised. “What? You don’t like eating with me or something?”
His mouth opened, but no words came out. A faint blush crept up his cheeks. He wasn’t expecting that, not here, not now, not in a place that reeked of something unnatural just ahead. He stuttered, searching for a response, but nothing coherent came out.
Ju-Hee rolled her eyes and turned her head, smirking as if to hide her own embarrassment.
Before either of them could say more, a shout rang out from up ahead.
“Hey! Over here!”
Both Jin-Woo and Ju-Hee looked toward the voice. What they saw made them stop in their tracks.
A massive stone door towered before them, ornate, ancient, and sealed shut. Runes etched into its surface glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat. The group slowly gathered in front of it, and Mr. Song stepped forward, his hand pressing against the cold stone.
With a loud groan, the door opened.
As they stepped into the chamber beyond, Jin-Woo’s breath caught in his throat.
It was a cathedral of stone.
Huge statues lined the walls—silent guardians standing like sentinels, each gripping weapons longer than a man was tall. At the far end, one enormous statue sat on a throne. It dwarfed the rest. Its eyes were empty, but somehow… they felt alive. Like they were watching.
“Woah…” Jin-Woo whispered.
The air inside was frigid. A quiet fell over the group as they spread out, some examining the statues, others inspecting the intricate carvings on the walls. Jin-Woo remained near the back with Ju-Hee, still wary. His eyes trailed along the patterns until he saw Mr. Song walk up to a large stone tablet standing in the middle of the room.
“What’s this?” Mr. Song muttered. He leaned in, beginning to read the inscription aloud.
Just then, Jin-Woo felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned to see Ju-Hee gripping his jacket tightly, her hand trembling.
“H-Hey, Jin-Woo… the statue… the big one,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “Its eye. I think… it just moved. It’s looking at us.”
Jin-Woo’s breath caught. He turned toward the throne.
The air had changed. It was quiet—too quiet. As if the dungeon itself was holding its breath.
And then—
THUD.
The entire chamber shook. They all turned at once, hearts leaping in their chests.
The door had shut behind them.
Panic flared.
“What the hell?!”
“Who closed the door?!”
One of the hunters ran to the door, pounding on the stone. “It’s not budging!”
“Wait—DON’T!” Mr. Song’s voice boomed.
But it was too late.
With a deafening CRACK, one of the statues near the door moved. Its massive arm swung with terrifying speed.
The hunter didn’t even scream.
In one clean blow, he was crushed—his body crumpling like paper under the weight of the stone weapon.
Everyone froze. Even Jin-Woo couldn't move. The sound of stone grinding echoed all around them. He remembered what Ju-Hee said. The statue had moved. Its eye was watching.
This wasn’t a normal dungeon.
That hunter who just died? He was a D-rank. Jin-Woo knew him. He wasn’t the best, but even a D-rank could usually survive a hit or two.
But that statue struck like a god.
‘Wait a second…’ Jin-Woo thought, his heart pounding.
‘This was supposed to be a D-rank dungeon. But monsters this powerful…? I’ve never seen anything like this. Even B-rank bosses wouldn’t—’
He looked around.
The statues.
Each one larger than life, weapons raised, unmoving… for now.
He could feel it in his bones—something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
He remembered all those near-death experiences in low-rank dungeons: getting separated from his group, getting stabbed by a lowly E-rank beast, starving, bleeding out, waking up in the hospital over and over again. He thought he knew what danger felt like.
But this…
This was worse.
“EVERYONE, DUCK!” Jin-Woo roared, grabbing Ju-Hee and pulling her down just as an explosion tore through the chamber.
The sitting statue—the one on the throne—had moved.
A wave of force burst from it, knocking several hunters off their feet. Jin-Woo groaned as he hit the ground, shielding Ju-Hee as best he could.
“Ju-Hee!” he called out.
She was curled up, hands over her ears, trembling. Mr. Song was shouting something across the room.
“Stay down! Don’t move!”
Jin-Woo looked over, his eyes widening as he saw blood dripping from Mr. Song’s arm.
“Sir! Your arm—!”
“I’ll be fine!” Mr. Song hissed through gritted teeth. “Just stop the bleeding!”
Jin-Woo moved quickly, pulling out a bandage from his kit, his hands shaking as he wrapped the older man’s torn limb.
Mr. Song let out a sharp breath. “Sung… what rank do you think this dungeon is?”
Jin-Woo hesitated. He wasn’t sure. He’d only seen B-rank raids from a distance, joined one or two by accident. But this? This wasn’t just another rank above.
“This… feels beyond B,” Jin-Woo said quietly.
Mr. Song nodded grimly. “Maybe A… maybe even S.”
Jin-Woo swallowed hard.
Mr. Song looked at the stone inscription again. “There’s something written here. It’s like a set of commandments.”
“Commandments?” Jin-Woo echoed.
Mr. Song read them aloud. “First… worship the Lord. Second… praise the Lord. Third… prove your faith. And it says… those who do not obey will never return alive.”
Jin-Woo stared up at the massive statue on the throne, his heart pounding.
“Mr. Song…” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes at the unmoving giant. “I think… the 'Lord'... it means that one, right?”
He pointed at the seated statue.
And as he did… its massive eyes gleamed red.