The first thing I heard in the morning was the trains, the same fucking trains that woke me up every day before 6 a.m. The cranes too, always the cranes.
I got up from my rundown mattress and squinted at the window. It was so disgustingly dirty I could barely make anything out. Just the milky morning fog and a thin drizzle coming down. Typical. I’d gotten used to it since moving to this city.
But this wasn’t an ordinary day. This was different. For the first time, I would be taking part in an exploration inside the dungeon.
Can you believe that? No more watching everything from the sidelines, drowning myself in TV, wanting to be a hero.
The process of getting into a hunter party had been quite tough, to say the least.
They usually only wanted people whose awakened powers were useful in combat. Mine wasn’t.
I could create a pocket dimension and store 90 liters of stuff inside it.
That’s it. God. If it were at least a decent amount of space, but no. 90 liters.
Still, I managed to get myself a spot. My job was simple: carry their stuff, the loot, whatever.
Basically, a mule. Not the most prestigious of things, but a start.
In my situation, no money, barely surviving, even a job that paid like shit beat being unemployed. That’s for sure.
The place I lived was a tiny corner inside a warehouse in the SODO district. The kind of place kidnappers use for their victims. Yeah. That’s how bad it was.
And I paid $1,200 for that. Can you believe that? Inflation was really doing a number on things. Anyway. Focus.
So when I woke up that morning, I didn’t waste any time. Quick shower, breakfast, cheap cup noodles, classic, and I was out.
When I stepped outside, I felt the chill in the air. Not just the weather. The streets were dark and empty in a way that felt heavier than usual.
A few people were up on the cranes and working the trains, but walking the streets? Almost nobody. I was one of the few idiots out there that early.
The only valuable thing I owned was a massive backpack, the kind that holds 90 to 100 liters on its own. Combined with my "superpower," if I could even call it that, I could haul a lot: food, water, potions, crystals, you name it.
The hunter party I’d been assigned to was rank D, according to the Hunter Guild. Rank D was pretty bad. I was worse. Rank F.
Honestly, if they ranked me on actual combat ability, I’d probably fall below F, but there was no rank below F, so.
I picked up my pace toward the Link Light Rail. The drizzle was getting old, and I didn’t want to linger.
The group told me to meet them at Pike Place Market. There was a portal there, a rank D one, that they wanted to farm for crystals.
Once I was on the train, I checked my phone. The group chat had a few new messages.
"This is the first time we’ll have a mule. Our team is finally growing."
"I can save my strength for actual fights while this useless Vince hauls everything. lol."
I turned off the screen. I already knew they’d treat me like that, you didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure it out. But seeing it written down still stung.
You know what stung more, though? Not being able to pay rent. That was the thought I kept coming back to. The thing that kept me moving.
I turned to the window, way cleaner than the one back at my place, and stared out at the skyscrapers rising through the gray.
I sighed. One day, I wanted out of this. That was the goal.
The train was fast. Ten minutes and I was at Westlake Station. I climbed the stairs into the downtown crossroads, mirrored buildings on all sides, the drizzle still going.
Five minutes of walking got me to the market. The streets had filled up, cars, cyclists, people actually living their lives.
Then the neon signs came into view. They looked good in the gray. That was one of the things I genuinely liked about this city.
The dimension rift we were about to enter was underground, beneath Pike Place Market. Even from a distance, I could already smell the fish and the salt coming off the water.
The hunter group was already there, waiting. Six people total, counting me.
I spotted four, which meant they were still waiting on me and one other.
Even before I reached them, I could feel their eyes on me. The way a bully sizes up their target. They already hated me.
"Hey, look who’s here," the tall blond guy called out. "The mule."
A girl, the only one in the group, jogged toward me and grabbed both my hands.
"So you’re the mighty mule? It’s an honor."
I started to blush. Then she let go and punched me in the head.
"Did you really think I was happy to see you?"
She laughed in my face. God. I already hated these people, and this was only the second time I’d met them.
The group’s leader was the blond guy. Mike.
"Before our last member gets here, let’s load up the mule."
Everyone started pulling things out. I opened my backpack and took it all in: food, water, flashlights, healing potions. Everything you’d want going into a dungeon.
The only thing I wasn’t carrying was their weapons, though I didn’t rule that out for the future.
I packed it all in. There was still some space left, but the weight was already getting to me. My body wasn’t built for this.
The reason was simple enough:
[Name: Vincent Crane]
[STR: 1]
[AGI: 2]
[VIT: 1]
[WIL: 1]
[Awakened Power: Pocket Dimension (Rank F)]
[Allows the user to create a pocket dimension with a capacity of 90 liters]
Garbage stats. To get stronger I needed monster crystals, and to get crystals I needed to fight, and fighting was the one thing I absolutely could not do.
But things were about to change. My cut for each dungeon run was ten monster crystals. Not enough to make a real difference in the short term, especially from a rank D rift, but still. A start.
When the last member finally showed up, a red-haired girl with the kind of posture that said she knew she was better than everyone here, we moved. Down through the lower levels of the market, toward the dimensional rift.