A red pen moved busily among the piles of paper scattered across the desk.
Ju-min picked up the crude map he had just printed and laid it over an existing one. When he held them up against the fluorescent light, the crooked routes drawn by different parties intersected in a chaotic web.
“Talk about trying everything under the sun.”
Ju-min let out a hollow laugh, set down his pen, and leaned back in his chair to stretch. When he tilted his stiff neck from side to side, the cracking of his joints echoed through the room.
A specific dungeon page from the Hunter Association Network still glowed blue on his monitor.
[Special D-rank Dungeon – Echoing Abandoned Mine]
Abysmal profitability. Zero percent clear rate.
It was a dungeon everyone avoided, with failed-clear notices piling up for several days straight.
What made it unusual was that there hadn’t been a single death or serious injury.
The monsters that appeared there were no more dangerous than giant cave rats with hardened hides and degenerated eyesight, or oversized bats. The hunters who entered the dungeon hadn’t been driven out because they lacked combat power.
‘They got lost and timed out.’
Rubbing his chin, Ju-min looked through the survivor testimonies he had purchased from the Hunter Information Exchange.
They hadn’t been free. He had emptied his hard-earned savings to collect all the route data and withdrawal points recorded by the previous parties. It had cost him a fair amount, but he didn’t consider it a waste.
He needed to know the real reason everyone else had failed if he wanted to succeed.
Every recorded testimony told a similar story.
–At some point, I completely lost my sense of direction.
–I was certain I’d gone straight, but I came across the same cart-wheel tracks I’d passed earlier.
–I kept wandering through the maze-like tunnels until time ran out.
Ju-min pulled himself closer to the desk and picked up the red pen again.
He circled the points where each party had lost its composure and started wandering. At first, they appeared completely random. However, once he overlaid several maps, one strange commonality became obvious.
“They all became fixated on the sound coming from deep inside.”
Red lines appeared beneath several parts of the records.
–I heard a dull bell, like metal being struck somewhere deeper inside.
–I blindly ran in the direction where the sound grew louder. I thought I was almost there, but it led to a dead end.
–At every fork, I chose the path where the bell sounded louder so I wouldn’t lose track of it.
Most hunters tended to treat unusual phenomena within a dungeon as guides.
That was especially true when they were being pressed by a time limit. Once they heard the sound, they must have hurried toward it, firmly believing it would lead to the Boss Area or open the way to the next section.
“Were they idiots?”
Ju-min snorted and pushed the maps aside.
It was a dungeon with unusually weak monsters and no casualties, yet its pathways were twisted into a vicious maze.
Under those circumstances, could the conveniently ringing bell truly be a signpost pointing toward the exit?
‘Of course not. It’s a trap designed to lure impatient hunters into the wrong corners.’
It was a malicious guidance mechanism that perfectly exploited the blind spot of hunters accustomed to forcing their way through everything with brute strength.
The farther they followed the sound, the farther they must have moved from the exit.
As soon as Ju-min reversed his way of thinking, the previously mismatched puzzle pieces snapped neatly into place.
The direction opposite the bell—or a dead zone where the sound couldn’t be heard at all.
That was where the true path lay.
A faint smile appeared on Ju-min’s lips now that he had found a clue to breaking through the dungeon.
But the thrill was short-lived. He picked up his phone and began searching through his contacts.
Even after seeing through the trap, he had no intention of charging in alone just to monopolize the reward.
Anything could happen inside an enclosed mine. Trying to handle an unexpected variable alone would be madness.
He needed at least one shield who could control a crisis and one porter who could help broaden his field of awareness.
‘I’ll only call people with sharp instincts and good survival skills.’
Proud Damage Dealers and mages who only boasted about their firepower were exhausting.
Ju-min wanted practical hunters who wouldn’t shy away from dirty work and knew when to retreat quickly during a crisis.
His scrolling finger stopped over a pair of familiar names.
He had worked with them several times in lower-tier dungeons. If nothing else, they possessed a remarkable talent for stubbornly staying alive.
Ju-min immediately pressed the call button.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
The phone barely rang a few times before a gruff voice answered.
–Hey, Im Ju-min. What’s up? I heard you’ve been making some money lately. Are you finally calling to buy me a meal?
“A meal, my ass. I found us a job. Are you free tomorrow?”
–A job? Where are we going?
“The Echoing Abandoned Mine.”
A heavy silence fell over the other end of the line.
A moment later, an incredulous laugh burst out.
–You crazy bastard! Why would you go there? No one’s managed to clear it for an entire week. Everyone who went in came back empty-handed. I heard they couldn’t even find the way, wandered around in circles, and didn’t get properly paid for the day.
“That’s exactly why we should go and collect the pay properly. Don’t worry. I’ll find the way. You just need to carry a sturdy shield at the front and draw aggro.”
–Seriously? You’ve got something up your sleeve, right?
“When have you ever seen me do anything stupid? I’ll pay you twenty percent above the Hunter Association’s standard rate. Deal?”
–Hey, twenty percent… All right! I’ll get my gear ready and be there tomorrow morning. Don’t change your story later!
After ending the call, Ju-min immediately dialed the next number.
This time, he needed someone to serve as a porter and provide support from the rear. The man didn’t have a lick of combat ability, but he possessed razor-sharp instincts and was extraordinarily good at hiding whenever danger arose.
“Mr. Kang, bring your gear tomorrow. We’re going to the abandoned mine.”
–Ah, Hunter Im! The rumors about that place are terrible. Are we really going in? You mean the one where the monsters are pushovers, but everyone loses their shit after getting lost?
“Yes. I’ll keep everyone’s nerves under control, so you only need to follow from behind and take care of the luggage. If we need to run, you can be the first one out.”
–Oh, those are pretty good terms. But you’ll need to pay part of my fee in advance. I’m about to come up short on last month’s credit card bill.
“I’ll transfer half before we leave and the other half after we finish. Don’t be late.”
Ju-min had recruited everyone he needed in no time.
It was a small but solid temporary party. They might lack the overwhelming firepower of a major guild, but at least neither man would become unreasonable in an emergency or ruin the formation out of greed.
Ju-min put down his phone and rose from his seat.
It was time to open the bag standing in the corner and inspect his equipment.
The B-grade gloves, Giant’s Mining Hands, gleamed with a heavy luster without so much as a scratch. He divided a backup dagger, a mana lantern, and emergency rations between his Inventory and backpack.
Once he had finished preparing, Ju-min roughly pulled the bag’s zipper shut.
An uncleared Special Reward had to be lying dormant somewhere within the abandoned mine everyone else had forsaken.
Just imagining himself using the System’s authority to multiply it a hundredfold was already making his mouth water.
***
The next morning.
In front of the Echoing Abandoned Mine Gate on the outskirts of the city.
The surrounding area couldn’t have been more deserted.
A popular dungeon would have been crowded from early morning with merchants and hunters looking for parties. Here, however, there wasn’t a soul in sight.
The metal fence surrounding the Gate was plastered with warnings written in red.
[Zone with Multiple Failed Clear Attempts]
Ju-min had arrived early and was sipping a cup of vending-machine Job’s tears tea when an old silver van pulled into the clearing before the Gate, its exhaust roaring loudly.
“Hey! Im Ju-min!”
The driver’s door rattled open, and a burly man climbed out.
It was Choi Sang-ho, the C-rank defense-type hunter Ju-min had spoken to the previous day. With an old but thick steel shield strapped to his back, he looked like the very image of a defensive hunter.
“You’re early.”
“How could I be late when you’re paying extra? Who else is coming besides us?”
“There he is.”
Ju-min looked toward a thin man running toward them in a panic.
The man was Kang Cheol-jin, a D-rank hunter. He was panting heavily beneath a massive backpack nearly as large as his entire body.
“I’m sorry I’m late! I missed the bus right before my eyes.”
As Kang Cheol-jin bent over and struggled to catch his breath, Ju-min offered him the remaining paper cup.
“It’s fine. You arrived right on time. Drink this and catch your breath.”
Kang Cheol-jin accepted the tea and nodded repeatedly. Choi Sang-ho looked back and forth between him and Ju-min with suspicion.
“Hey, Ju-min. Don’t tell me the three of us are the whole party.”
“We are. More people would only get in the way inside those narrow tunnels. Three will be enough.”
“Even so, we don’t have a Damage Dealer or a mage.”
Before Choi Sang-ho could continue complaining, Ju-min raised a hand and cut him off.
“The monsters here don’t have enough offensive power to pose a serious threat anyway. There’s no reason to waste firepower. We just need to find the correct path and quickly deal with anything that jumps out. I’ll take responsibility for guiding us, so the two of you only need to follow my instructions.”
Faced with Ju-min’s unwavering voice, Choi Sang-ho smacked his lips and tightened the straps securing his shield.
The Im Ju-min he knew wasn’t the kind of man who acted recklessly after getting carried away.
He was meticulous, calculating, and valued his own life above everything else. When a man like that made such a confident declaration, there was always a good reason behind it.
“All right. You’re the leader, so I’ll do what you say. But if this goes to shit, it’s all your fault.”
“Don’t worry. I just transferred the advance payment to both of your accounts. Check for yourselves.”
Kang Cheol-jin pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his banking app. His grin immediately stretched from ear to ear.
“Oh! Payment confirmed. That’s reassuring. There’s plenty of empty space in my backpack, so let’s fill it to the brim with loot.”
“We’ll go over the plan on the way inside. Get your equipment ready.”
Ju-min tossed his empty paper cup into a trash can and firmly pulled a pair of dark iron-colored gauntlets over his hands.
As he bent his knuckles, dense mana flowed across his skin, creating a pleasant sense of tension.
The three men formed a single-file line.
Choi Sang-ho took the lead with his enormous shield raised. Kang Cheol-jin followed close behind him, while Ju-min stood at the rear, where he could keep the entire formation within sight.
“We’re going in.”
At Ju-min’s short signal, their bodies were drawn into the rippling blue Gate.
***
The moment they passed through the Gate, the cool, acrid scent of dusty earth struck them.
Old wooden supports stood at intervals along the ceiling as though they might collapse at any moment. Rusted minecart rails stretched deep into the darkness.
It was a dim tunnel with severely limited visibility.
“This place reeks. Can I turn on a lantern?”
Kang Cheol-jin pulled a small mana lantern from the side of his backpack.
“No. Leave it off.”
Ju-min reached out and stopped him.
In the darkness, light would make them an unmistakable target. Furthermore, the monsters inside this dungeon had likely become extremely sensitive to sound, light, and fluctuations of mana in exchange for their degenerated eyesight.
“The monsters here are already accustomed to the darkness. Turning on a lantern would only advertise our location. Let’s move slowly while watching the back of the person in front of us.”
“Understood.”
Looking slightly embarrassed, Kang Cheol-jin put the lantern away.
Ju-min naturally drew upon the A-grade Passive Skill, Perfect Breathing.
Clear air filled the depths of his lungs, and his heartbeat settled into a calm rhythm. The faint streams of mana leaking from him were drawn neatly back into his body, causing his presence to fade.
At the same time, his sharpened senses extended into the darkness.
“We’ll go straight for now. Follow the rails and watch your footing.”
At Ju-min’s instruction, Choi Sang-ho cautiously stepped forward.
Only the crunch of gravel and the sound of quiet breathing filled the narrow tunnel.
They hadn’t walked far before they encountered their first fork.
To the left lay a broad passage where the rails continued undamaged. To the right was a cramped opening half-blocked by a pile of collapsed stones.
“Which way?”
Choi Sang-ho asked as he glanced back.
That was when it happened.
Clang— Clang—
A dull, unpleasant metallic sound reverberated from deep within the mine.
It was a bell ringing at regular intervals. The sound was clearly echoing from the wide passage on the left where the rails continued.
“Oh, I hear a bell. It must be some kind of guide. We should go left, right?”
Just as Kang Cheol-jin brightened and began turning to the left, Ju-min grabbed the strap of his backpack and pulled him back.
“No. We’re going right.”
“What? But the bell is coming from over there.”
“That sound is a trap. Cover your ears and squeeze through the stones on the right.”
The other two hesitated briefly at the certainty in Ju-min’s voice. However, displaying the admirable professionalism of men who had already received an advance payment, they twisted their bodies into the narrow opening without complaint.
Before following them, Ju-min glanced back at the broad tunnel where the bell rang loudly.
The direction where the sound grew louder—the obvious path everyone else had rushed down.
‘That way probably leads to a loop where monsters keep crawling out endlessly.’
With a faint smirk, he turned away without hesitation.
If his analysis was correct, the true path that no one had ever set foot upon would be waiting beyond this narrow, suffocating gap.
Ju-min lightly struck his gauntlets together before lowering his upper body and squeezing between the stones.
“Keep your footsteps quiet. It’s time to greet our real guests.”
At Ju-min’s subdued voice, Choi Sang-ho readjusted his grip on his shield, and Kang Cheol-jin drew a sharp breath.
They were fully prepared to crack open the shell of the uncleared area.
The three men’s shadows disappeared completely into the darkness.