On the cave floor, where a damp, musty stench hung thick in the air, a crumbling sound rang out amid labored breathing. The last goblin’s body turned to dust and collapsed.
"Good work, everyone!"
The Hunter specializing in magic at the rear of the party called out cheerfully. Only then did those on the front line relax a little.
"Whew, this dungeon smells particularly bad. Thank you for your hard work, everyone."
"It certainly does. There were an annoying number of small fry for an E-grade dungeon. Still, I’m glad we finished safely."
The members of the temporary party exchanged brief farewells.
Im Ju-min caught his breath and looked down at the battered sword in his hand. Its worn blade was chipped in several places. After roughly wiping the sticky monster blood off the cheap iron sword onto his trousers, he shoved it into its sheath with a practiced motion.
"Good work, everyone."
Ju-min also gave the others a slight bow.
He was twenty-eight, in his third year since awakening. His official Hunter grade was C.
Generally, a C-grade Hunter needed to focus on C-grade dungeons, or at least D-grade ones, to make the work worthwhile. Yet here he was, participating in an ordinary E-grade dungeon on the outskirts of Seoul as a member of a temporary party.
A melee Hunter with no special combat skills or rare unique traits. That was the only card Im Ju-min had to play. Higher-grade dungeons that guaranteed substantial profits and the glamorous lives of those in major guilds belonged to a completely different world.
'I wonder if I’ve earned enough to cover today’s meals.'
Ju-min muttered inwardly and took off his gloves. Calluses marked his palms like medals.
"Excuse me, I’ll take care of all the monster corpses, so you can head out first."
A porter carrying a heavy backpack approached from behind, bowing deferentially.
"Ah, yes. Thank you. I’d like to wash up as soon as possible, so I’ll head out first."
The party leader readily agreed and turned to leave. The porter hurriedly began gathering the assorted loot scattered across the floor.
Ju-min leaned against the cave wall, silently watching. He did not recklessly chase sudden riches. That was his way.
Higher-grade dungeons naturally paid more. But the chances of dying rose just as sharply. Over the past three years, Ju-min had seen countless Hunters lose their lives after venturing into higher-grade dungeons with inadequate skills.
He had real responsibilities. His parents’ monthly living expenses, his bank loan, and his own strained household finances. If he were injured or killed, the family he left behind would end up on the streets.
'Safety comes first. I have to stay alive to earn money.'
He did not complain. Taking only risks he could reliably control and diligently getting through each day. He believed that was the only way someone with ordinary talent like him could survive in the Hunter business.
"You’ve all checked your reward summary windows, right? I’ll be heading out now. Let’s say hello if we meet again."
"Yes. Take care."
One by one, the party members checked the translucent system windows floating in the air, then hurried toward the gate. With the dungeon cleared, there was no reason to linger in this damp, foul-smelling place.
Ju-min slowly straightened and looked into the air. A moment later, a familiar notification sounded, and a translucent system message appeared before him as well.
[Dungeon Clear Complete]
[Calculating Individual Contribution.]
This was the most nerve-racking moment. When Hunters entered a dungeon with a temporary party, the system awarded individual contribution rewards based on each person’s performance, in addition to the fixed rewards left after defeating the boss. He had quietly held the front line, weathering the monsters’ attacks and striking at openings, so he felt he could afford a little hope.
Ju-min swallowed and waited for the next message.
[Individual Contribution Reward]
- 3 Low-Grade Mana Stones
"……."
A small, deflated sigh escaped Ju-min’s lips.
'Just three low-grade mana stones.'
It was a painfully meager, all-too-realistic return for risking his life.
He quickly ran the numbers in his head. Selling three low-grade mana stones on the market would bring in roughly thirty to forty thousand won. After deducting the cost of repairing his worn-out sword, the cheap health recovery potion he had drunk earlier, and transportation to and from the dungeon, he would be left with barely two ten-thousand-won bills.
'I’d be better off working part-time at a convenience store.'
Ju-min scratched the back of his head with a bitter smile. But what could he do? This was reality.
Grumbling would change nothing. He had long since stopped blaming others or resenting the system. It would be more worthwhile to spend that time looking for another opening in an E-grade dungeon for tomorrow.
'Well, at least I earned enough for repairs.'
Muttering softly, Ju-min let go of his disappointment and reached for the Claim Reward button floating in the air.
That was when it happened.
- DING!
A strange, unfamiliar electronic sound pierced Ju-min’s ears, unlike anything he had heard in the past three years.
"Huh?"
His hand paused in midair.
The dim blue system window he always saw suddenly began to shake. A deep golden light seeped in from its corners, then flashed so intensely that it filled his entire field of vision.
He involuntarily squinted at the dazzling light.
Once it slowly subsided, Ju-min opened his eyes. Then his breath caught at the new message that had appeared before him.
[Dungeon Clear Complete]
Directly below that ordinary phrase, decidedly extraordinary text stood out in bold, clear letters.
[100× Rewards Applied.]
"……What’s this?"
Ju-min’s voice sounded dazed.
Wondering whether he had misread it, he rubbed his eyes several times and looked again. But the letters floating in the air remained perfectly clear.
100 times the rewards?
He had heard all sorts of rumors about system errors and bugs while running dungeons, but he had never heard of a message this blatant and unrealistic.
Ju-min hurriedly turned his head and looked around.
"Excuse me."
The last remaining porter looked up while tightening his backpack straps.
"Yes? Is something wrong?"
"Didn’t something just flash? There was a sound, too."
The porter glanced around in confusion, then shrugged.
"I’m not sure. I didn’t see anything. Perhaps the mana is fluctuating because the dungeon entrance is about to close? You should probably head out soon."
The porter bowed and hurried toward the gate.
Ju-min looked ahead again. The porter clearly could not see this enormous golden window. It was something only he could see.
His heart began pounding wildly.
'This is driving me crazy. Is it really an error? Or am I seeing things?'
His palms grew damp with nervous sweat.
For three years, he had simply rolled around in the dirt to earn a living, without a single stroke of fortune or extraordinary incident. This strange phenomenon fell far outside the range of risks he considered controllable.
Yet he could not stop an inexplicable anticipation from coursing through his veins, stronger than his fear.
- DING!
With another notification, the message window before him split to the left and right.
Two enormous choices floated in the air, filling Ju-min’s vision.
[100× Quantity]
[100× Value]
Two simple, clear choices.
Ju-min’s gaze wavered.
His original reward was three low-grade mana stones.
If he selected 100× Quantity, that meant he would receive three hundred low-grade mana stones. Even at just ten thousand won per stone, he would earn three million won in an instant. It was an enormous sum that would cover an entire month’s living expenses in one go.
Then what about 100× Value?
If it increased the value of low-grade mana stones a hundredfold, what sort of item would he receive? Would it give him some rare material he had never even heard of?
He swallowed hard.
The dungeon was deathly quiet. Only the rhythmic sound of the gate rippling reached him from a distance.
Ju-min stared fixedly at the system window, his eyes wide.
Whatever he chose, it would surely produce a result more unreal than anything he had experienced in the past three years.
His callused finger trembled slightly as it slowly moved toward the choices floating in the air.