She was still confused, but one thing was clear: they had to explore this uncertain dimension.
When you’re stranded like this, the biggest problem is food. At least in that regard, Lee Pyeonghwa and Jeong Daon were fairly lucky.
“Getting stranded inside a dungeon actually happens more often than you’d think.”
The absurd part was that an S-rank Hunter, a veteran of exactly this kind of situation, had been dragged into the mishap with them. Han Jaeyeong said they had stocked enough nutritional potions to survive nearly three weeks on their own.
“Of course, with three people the duration gets shorter. If we assume one potion per person per day, maybe about a week?”
“We also have the preserved rations we were issued. That should buy us some time.”
“Let’s first check whether we can secure food locally.”
Neither Jeong Daon nor Han Jaeyeong had simply been waiting around for Lee Pyeonghwa to wake up.
“There don’t seem to be any notable life-forms within a ten-kilometer radius.”
“I’d love to survey the entire dimension, but we don’t yet know what kind of place this is. Let’s take it in segments.”
It seemed they had already gotten a rough grasp of the surrounding area through detection magic.
“Yes.” Lee Pyeonghwa could only nod.
Han Jaeyeong acting like this was one thing, but seeing Jeong Daon behave like a seasoned veteran in such a situation naturally raised questions.
…My head hurts.
So many shocking things had happened in rapid succession that she hadn’t even had the mental space to ask.
The three of them began pushing forward through the thick, overgrown grass with military knives. Well, in Han Jaeyeong’s case, it wasn’t a knife so much as a long staff that they were swinging like a blade. Strangely enough, it seemed to cut far better than an actual military knife.
For reasons even they didn’t seem to understand, Jeong Daon looked utterly flabbergasted by the sight. “You’re using that to cut grass?”
“It consumes less mana and the edge is sharp. Any reason not to?”
“…Fine. Do whatever you want.”
Han Jaeyeong said it half jokingly, “At least we don’t have any six-kilometer-radius tentacle monsters around.”
“There are things like that?”
“Yes. They dry out and die quickly once they come onto land, so their rank wasn’t high, but they were horrifying to look at.”
It was hard to tell whether they were trying to lighten the mood or deliberately raise the tension, but if it was the latter, it worked.
“Aren’t those just giant octopus or squid? Can you eat them?”
“Daon, are you really that hungry?”
“It’s purely a matter of efficiency.”
What was frightening was that this didn’t sound like a joke.
In any case, for safety’s sake, the three of them advanced in ten-kilometer segments. Under normal circumstances, a ten-kilometer march was nothing to Hunters, but the psychological pressure made it far from comfortable.
After their second rest, as they set out again, Lee Pyeonghwa became acutely aware of how quickly her stamina was draining.
So this is why people say real combat matters.
She could march sixty kilometers without issue during training, but walking while constantly scanning the surroundings consumed far more energy. And more than anything else…
It stings my pride.
Though no one said it outright, both Han Jaeyeong and Jeong Daon were clearly adjusting their pace with Lee Pyeonghwa in mind. It was only natural that Han Jaeyeong, a veteran Hunter, had better stamina than her, but the problem was that Jeong Daon showed no signs of fatigue either.
…I don’t want to be dead weight.
Hitching up the heavy pack that weighed on her shoulders, Lee Pyeonghwa clenched her teeth and kept walking.
After pushing through the dense grass for who knew how long, they were fortunate enough to find a lake around evening that looked suitable as a water source. There were fish living in it as well.
She didn’t recognize the species, but they didn’t look very different from fish she’d seen on Earth.
“Good thing we found something that can serve as food,” Han Jaeyeong said after filling a large canteen and observing it. “The purification stone isn’t reacting, so it doesn’t seem to contain anything lethal to humans. Let’s rest around here tonight.”
A purification stone. It was an item she’d never heard of, but considering it was something an S-rank Hunter carried around, Lee Pyeonghwa accepted it without much thought.
“Is that something you always carry with you?”
“Yes. Dungeon runs unexpectedly dragging on happens more often than you’d think.”
“…I see.”
“I’m not saying that just to comfort you. I really mean it.”
That made it all the more reassuring.
Once they leveled the ground and set up the tent Han Jaeyeong had taken out, it turned out, almost comically, to be quite cozy. Lee Pyeonghwa, exhausted from walking all day, sank down without realizing it. Her consciousness blurred.
“…Looks like she passed out sitting up.”
“That’s understandable. Let her rest. We should focus on what we need to do. There could be monsters around, so we’ll need a watch. What about that cat familiar?”
“I can’t summon it right now.”
“Oh, come on. Are you really going to make just the two of us—”
Lee Pyeonghwa tried to say that she would take a turn on watch as well, but her eyelids were too heavy. She soon fell into a deep, irresistible sleep.
But how long had she slept like that?
Her chest felt tight.
“
Gasp!
”
Lee Pyeonghwa suddenly bolted upright, sucking in a sharp breath. A blanket—someone must have covered her with it—slid off onto the ground.
As she woke in a start, someone spoke to her.
“Don’t get up. Just go back to sleep.”
It was Jeong Daon. She was sitting in front of the lit campfire, quietly tending the flames.
Lee Pyeonghwa shook her head. “I can’t sleep.”
“…Fine.”
In the bright glow of the crackling fire, Jeong Daon’s eyes gleamed with a detached light. She looked as though she had no interest in Lee Pyeonghwa at all—no, in this situation itself. There was no trace on Jeong Daon’s impassive face of the anxiety Lee Pyeonghwa was grappling with.
Lee Pyeonghwa quietly moved over and sat beside the fire.
“You’d be better off resting.”
“You should rest too. You’re on watch, right? I’ll join you.”
“There’s no need. I just started.”
“…”
Lee Pyeonghwa let out a sigh. It wasn’t as if this was the first or second time Jeong Daon had spoken in such a cold, off-putting tone. Still, there was something she felt she had to say.
“About when Seunghui went berserk…”
When Lee Seunghui lost control due to mana overload, Lee Pyeonghwa had been mentally overwhelmed and nearly struck by the quills of a wild porcupine. If she’d been injured like that while completely off guard, there was no telling what could have happened.
“You’re the one who saved me, right? Th—”
“Don’t get it twisted. I didn’t save you,” Jeong Daon cut her off flatly. “I swung my arm, and you just happened to be there.”
“…Oh. Right.”
Would it be so wrong to hit Jeong Daon just once? She was grateful, but Jeong Daon had a remarkable talent for making even a favor feel like something you wanted to repay with resentment.
Lee Pyeonghwa suppressed the irritation welling up inside her and went on. She felt like it would bother her if she didn’t say it. No matter how much Jeong Daon denied it, Lee Pyeonghwa knew she had been helped.
“Still, thank you. You saved my life. I owe you.”
That was all she’d meant by it.
"..."
But the reaction was strange. Jeong Daon’s eyes, usually as inorganic as stone even by the firelight, flickered for an instant. For some reason, Lee Pyeonghwa felt as though Jeong Daon was seeing her for the first time.
The atmosphere turned oddly, faintly tense.
“…Are you embarrassed or something?”
“No matter how tired you are, don’t spout nonsense.”
“Oh. Right.”
Thankfully, the mood quickly returned to normal.
Lee Pyeonghwa forced her weary body upright and sat facing the fire. Jeong Daon looked at her with faint puzzlement, but Lee Pyeonghwa didn’t care. Letting herself be the only one to skip watch was something her pride couldn’t tolerate. She hugged her knees and stared silently into the flames.
The cool night air and the firelight made her drowsy, and there was a strange, ticklish sensation at the nape of her neck. Despite her resolve to stand watch fairly, her eyes kept trying to close, so Lee Pyeonghwa opened her mouth to shake herself awake. “You know… I never imagined it. That someone among our cohort would be capable of giving Seunghui a drug like that.”
It was ridiculous.
That was still her honest impression. They had spent nearly two weeks together, enough time to live, struggle, and get to know one another in detail, so who could possibly have harmed Lee Seunghui?
But Jeong Daon’s reply was cool and cutting. “You only spent a few weeks together. You can’t know everything about someone else.”
“That’s true, but still…”
“So many people were gathered there. It wouldn’t be strange if there was a murderer, or a devil, among them.”
“…Hey. Don’t you think that’s going too far?”
The atmosphere that had felt gentle just moments ago vanished. Lee Pyeonghwa felt as if she’d been slapped with cold water.
A murderer? A devil?
She glared at Jeong Daon.
Her words felt unbearably unfair.
While Jeong Daon had drifted through training without even trying to fit in, Lee Pyeonghwa had made the effort to look after everyone, to hold the group together; at least, she had tried. If there had been someone that strange, she would have noticed.
…Though, in the end, an incident had still happened. It felt as if all her effort was being dismissed as meaningless.
“Jeong Daon, you don’t even know who Choi Jisu is. That’s why you can say things like that. Jisu isn’t that kind of person. Do you know how much she looked after Seunghui during training?”
“Is that so?” Jeong Daon shot Lee Pyeonghwa a sharp look. “Hearing that just makes her more suspicious. Why would Choi Jisu take such special care of Lee Seunghui?”
“Wh-what are you saying?”
“You were the squad leader, so that makes sense. But Choi Jisu wasn’t. Lee Seunghui failed training at the slightest thing and constantly messed up basic drill movements, getting everyone punished because of her.”
“Hey, that’s too much—!”
No matter what, she’d died in a tragic accident. Talking about her like that was hard to accept.
But Jeong Daon cut Lee Pyeonghwa off, “Then what about Lee Seunghui? Did you ever think she’d be capable of something like this?”
“…Seunghui was always fragile. Still, I never thought she’d be pushed far enough to turn to drugs while in the military.”
“Exactly. Which means you don’t really know how the others might have acted either. Admit it, right now, Choi Jisu is the most likely suspect. When we get back, she’ll be the first one investigated.”
“Jeong Daon, how can you talk like that—!”
“You look angry. Why don’t you just sleep? That would be better.”
“…Do you really think you have the right to talk about other people so carelessly?”
"What?"
“This whole incident, anyone can see it was aimed at you. Isn’t that right?”
Jeong Daon looked at Lee Pyeonghwa with the same blank expression before finally speaking. “Why do you think that?”
“Anyone with eyes and ears can tell. You’re the only one who’s been getting caught up in these Dungeon Breaks for months now. If this was really deliberate, then this time too, you were probably the target.”
"So?" Jeong Daon wasn’t surprised in the slightest. She merely raised an eyebrow, expression indifferent. “I’m the victim here. Is there something wrong with that?”
And at that, something surged up inside Lee Pyeonghwa. “I’m not saying it’s your fault. But people got dragged into it. Someone even died. Doesn’t that mean you should at least be careful with your words?”
If their positions had been reversed, Lee Pyeonghwa would have felt guilty toward Lee Seunghui, who might have been caught up in it because of her, and toward the other trainees as well.
But right now, Jeong Daon didn’t seem to respect anyone else at all. Even in the face of Lee Pyeonghwa’s anger, Jeong Daon showed not a trace of remorse.
“Sure, someone might have approached Lee Seunghui to set a trap for me. But she’s the one who chose to fall into it. None of this would’ve happened if she hadn’t used illegal drugs.”
“Hey, you really—!” Lee Pyeonghwa sprang to her feet. She was furious.
Jeong Daon had helped her when she’d been in danger because she let her guard down, so how could she talk like this about Lee Seunghui’s death? And to treat Choi Jisu, the person closest to Lee Seunghui, as the prime suspect when nothing had even been confirmed yet? They were people who’d lived and trained together for weeks!
“If you’re going to suspect everyone, why don’t you start by investigating me? I was close to Lee Seunghui too—no, I was the closest. Then suspect me—!”
“So? Did you do it?”
"What?"
For a moment, she couldn’t even process what she’d heard. Lee Pyeonghwa blinked.
Jeong Daon’s face looked monstrous.
“I asked whether you gave Lee Seunghui illegal drugs and engineered the dungeon accident.”
"No!"
The absurdity of it made her want to pound her chest. Injustice, disbelief, and rage rushed to her head all at once, and Lee Pyeonghwa felt like steam might start pouring out of her ears.
“How can you say that? I-I didn’t do anything like that. Never!”
“You can’t know that for sure.”
“I said I didn’t! Why would I ever do something like that?!”
“Then you really had no idea at all?”
“None. Not at all!”
As she shouted, another thought crossed Lee Pyeonghwa’s mind,
But… why am I this angry?
It was certainly enough to make anyone upset, but not to the point of yelling in the middle of the night like this—
That was when Jeong Daon reached out.
For a split second, Lee Pyeonghwa flinched, instinctively thinking she was about to be hit.
Crunch!
A searing sensation flared at the back of her head, as if it had been set on fire.
“Wh-what was that?!”
“A monster.”
“What?!”
Thud, thud!
Startled, Lee Pyeonghwa turned around to see the charred remains of insects, blackened in an instant, dropping to the ground. There was no system notification, but it was obvious Jeong Daon had just dealt with a monster.
“They’re insects that feed on the life force—mana—of sentient beings. Since the emotions of those with mana always create fluctuations, the insects amplify their host’s emotions to parasitize them more effectively.”
On the ground, bugs with long, mosquito-like proboscises writhed weakly.
Whoosh!
Jeong Daon conjured another burst of flame, completely burning the still-twitching insects to ash.
“You don’t need to worry too much. After a bit of sleep, you’ll feel better.”
“Wh-what?”
At Lee Pyeonghwa, who was too stunned to respond properly, Jeong Daon curled the corner of her lips upward. It looked like a smile, the first Lee Pyeonghwa had ever seen from her, but it was thoroughly irritating.
Strangely, her vision began to blur. Only then did Lee Pyeonghwa realize how little mana she had left in her body, and how unusually itchy the back of her neck felt. When she reached back to touch it, she felt heat and swelling. There was clearly a wound. At some point, most of her mana had been drained.
“Th-then when did I even start losing my mana?”
“…Thanks to that, it seems you’re cleared of suspicion. Those insects only amplify pure emotions.”
“Don’t tell me…you did this on purpose?”
Her consciousness wavering, Lee Pyeonghwa glared at Jeong Daon.
That meant Jeong Daon had known those monsters were approaching and had deliberately let them be, in case Lee Pyeonghwa might confess to some crime!
But her anger went unanswered. Jeong Daon calmly stirred the campfire as she replied, “You’re tired. Just go to sleep.”
Those words reached her as her awareness faded.
What a show-off…right to the end…
With a sense of injustice still lingering in her chest, Lee Pyeonghwa slipped into sleep.