Chapter 82: Debt Before Dawn
The storm broke with dawn, leaving the coast scrubbed clean. The bay lay still, gulls wheeling overhead, but inside the warehouse it reeked like a battlefield after looting, sour piss, stale liquor, vomit slick on the boards, men sprawled in crooked heaps.
Min was easy to pick out, slumped against a wall with a half-empty bottle locked in her fist like a weapon.
A glass rolled under someone's twitching foot and cracked against the floor. The sharp sound jolted her awake. The world tilted. Her gut lurched. She let out a belch that rattled her ribs.
"Blaaargh—guh!"
She slapped a hand to her mouth, almost vomiting on the spot.
"…Mother of fuck…what happened?"
The voice in her skull rang like a church bell.
[You drowned yourself in alcohol and blacked out. Be glad you don't remember.]
"Uuuhhh…"
She staggered upright, nearly tripping on a limp arm before stumbling toward the water trough. She plunged her head under, bubbles fizzing out in a groan. Came up coughing. Did it again. And again. Each dunk left her a little clearer, though her stomach growled like something caged.
"Hungry?"
Seo-jin's voice cut the silence. She froze, tense for a beat before admitting.
"Starving."
He smirked, scooped a handful of water over his face, then shook himself off.
"Let's go get some grub, then—"
His eyes dragged down to her bare feet on the splintered floorboards. He clicked his tongue.
"First thing's first. Let's fix that."
System light flared in his hand as he pulled up the Network. Fingers swiped, eyes scanning options. Without looking at her, he asked—
"What size?"
Her cheeks flushed, though she tried to hide it.
"No, no—it's fine. I can buy my own. Really."
"Can you buy them right now?"
His tone hit like a hammer, flat and absolute.
She shifted, eyes darting.
"…No."
"Then what size."
"I don't want—"
"It's not a gift."
His mouth twisted in a crooked grin.
"You'll pay me back. With interest."
She scowled, realizing he wouldn't budge. Only a night with him and she already knew—Seo-jin was the kind of person who'd chew glass before backing down.
"…Thirteen."
The snort slipped out of him before he could stop it.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Sorry, sorry. Big feet, huh? That's women's sizing, right? Men's… eleven, eleven and a half… yeah. That'll work."
He flicked through his panel, tapping without hesitation. A flare of system light erupted between them, searing bright, then hardened into shape...a pair of plain leather boots dropped onto the boards with a thud.
Min's eyes widened. She stared like a kid seeing fire for the first time, then broke into a grin so wide it cracked her face. She snatched the boots and shoved them on without hesitation.
"Three DP. Nothing special. But they'll hold."
She froze mid-tug, frowning.
"…DP?"
The way he looked at her...half disbelief, half irritation, made her feel like she'd just confessed she couldn't count to ten.
He studied her a moment longer, then asked flatly,
"You're not connected, are you?"
She yanked the last lace tight. The boots fit snug, stiff against her heels, but they'd break in. Standing made her sway, hangover still gnawing behind her eyes.
"Connected to what?"
"The Network."
Her chest locked. She knew exactly what he meant.
"Oh. Yeah. No."
Her voice cracked.
"I just… thought it wasn't necessary."
She turned for the door before he could dig further, trying to look casual, like her legs weren't trembling.
"Didn't you say we were getting food?"
"Hold the fuck on—there's no way we're done with this."
He followed, boots thumping close behind.
Outside, the storm's aftermath bled into morning light. The air was sharp, washed clean by rain, but the city they stepped into stank of rot and old ruin.
Shatterbay stretched ahead, not alive but clinging. Half-collapsed buildings, rusting husks leaning against each other, vines strangling concrete. Neon sputtered here and there, glowing faint around holes in walls. The streets themselves lay mostly dead.
People they did cross either dropped their eyes and hurried off or straight-up vanished the moment they saw them. Min's shoulders tightened, eyes cutting to every twitch of shadow, every scrape of movement. This wasn't a place anyone walked soft.
Seo-jin noticed the way her jaw clenched, how her hands twitched close to fists. He smirked and started talking, like words could keep her from unraveling.
"Figures. Explains a lot, actually. You gear's trash, and with your strength it didn't add up. Leveling unconnected's like walking into a fight with one hand nailed to the floor. Can't see why the fuck you'd ever do it."
She flinched at his bluntness. Lying never came easy. Her gut twisted, not with guilt, but with the way every half-truth seemed to hang on her face like a mask she couldn't keep straight.
[I doubt he has the means to hurt them. The only thing your silence does is make it harder on you. Unless you've changed your mind.]
'No. I can feel it—they're good people. If I'm starting over, I don't want to do it alone.'
She'd made her choice last night. After the Dead Hands saw her strength, after she admitted her shard was A-rank and her level sat at the top of E, they didn't just ask her to join, they begged.
Seo-jin walked ahead, his shoulders loose, but his eyes kept flicking back. He could tell she carried something she hadn't said yet. He was about to press when she finally broke the silence.
"I've never connected… because it was taboo where I'm from."
He slowed.
"Taboo? Who the fuck says that?"
"My mothers."
He stopped dead, raising an eyebrow.
"Mothers. As in plural?"
Her lips twitched, half a smirk. He wasn't being a creep, but he was still a man.
"Not like that. All the women in my town raised me. To me, they're all mother."
His face lit with sudden realization, half joking, his voice dropped as if the walls had ears.
"Don't tell me… you're one of those dick hunters."
She cracked...laughter ripped from her chest, raw and echoing down the ruined street, shaking dust from broken rafters.
"Dick hunters?! That's fucking perfect! Sure, yeah, I was. One of those dick hunters."
"No fuckin' shit?!"
He suddenly tensed, clutching his crotch like he expected a raid.
"You ever… y'know?"
Her laughter died quick.
"Shut the fuck up. No. They only do that if someone gets pregnant. It's to stop sisters from having siblings off the isle."
"The isle?"
His grin widened, sharp.
"So it is an island. Ha! You know, most people think you're all a myth. Wait—so that's why you never connected. You stayed hidden by living completely off-grid."
Her shoulders loosened. He wasn't looking at her with fear. No disgust, no suspicion. Just curiosity. That eased something in her chest she hadn't realized was clenched.
She'd been raised to believe men were monsters, that they raped, murdered, and destroyed as naturally as breathing. But a single night of drinking had cracked that lie. Not all men. Some, at least, weren't demons in flesh.
The one walking in front of her? He was the first to show her that.
"That must've sucked. Never being able to crack a chest. You must've had some heavy hitters back home. Let me guess—your ass got carried the whole way?"
"Just till I could walk..."
Her tone was flat, confusion plain on her face.
"No. Carried, as in higher-level users dragging you through dungeons. Power-leveling you. That's what we call it here."
"…Oh. Dungeons."
Her cheeks flushed, faint but noticeable. Seo-jin caught it, stopped dead, eyes narrowing.
"You've never been in a dungeon."
His voice sharpened, then dropped low.
"Motherfucker. You guys have a Blind?!"
Her voice sank to match his.
"If you mean something that stops dungeons from dropping, then yes."
The answer hit him like a hammer. His gut twisted, pulse jumping. He almost laughed, but it came out as a harsh breath instead.
A Blind. Something people whispered about like fairy tales. Rumored relics, never seen, able to block the Network itself. Not just hide a patch of ground, but rip it off the board entirely. No cube, no descent, no registration. The Network wouldn't even know it existed.
"Holy shit…"
He dragged a hand down his face, trying to process.
"How the hell did you level?"
"Raise and breed monsters. That's why most of us become beast tamers."
Seo-jin groaned, gripping his head as they walked. His mind spun, calculating, grasping at what they'd lost, what they gained. The XP curves. The stat bonuses. All that potential pissed away...but there were those that would trade it all, just to have a taste of how she lived.
It gave him a headache just imagining it.
"This is insane. People out here would gut their own mothers to live in a Blind. Why would you leave that?"
She stopped dead. Seo-jin turned, and the look on her face told him he'd stepped somewhere raw. Cold.
"I'm guessing it wasn't your idea?"
"No...but it was my doing. I was banished for killing one of my sisters."
His brow twitched. The bluntness landed like a brick. He had no words ready, but she didn't need them. She kept going.
"I like fighting. Even as a kid I was stronger than anyone around me. My mothers tried to temper it, pushed me into training, gave me drills until I passed out. Didn't matter. Once I got my shard it only got worse. I wanted more."
Her fists clenched, eyes dragging across the scars lining her arms...deep grooves, each carved by steel, each memory burned into flesh.
"We were sparring, same as always. She was so graceful, my only equal. One of the most gifted of our generation. She matched my strength with skill I couldn't touch."
Seo-jin felt the awkward pull at first, he barely knew this woman, and she was dropping her blood-soaked past in his lap. But there was no mistaking the way she spoke. It was raw, eager, like long-overdue pressure breaking through cracks. He guessed he was the first ear she'd found since exile. She had to bleed it out. And for some reason, he let her.
She shook her head, staring toward the one clean tower rising over the ruined skyline. Her voice broke, replaced by a short, bitter laugh.
"Fuck off—no, sorry. I sound like a little bitch. Let's just eat and—"
"We're here anyway—"
Seo-jin cut in, his tone even.
"But Min—you're not a bitch for being human. Everyone needs to talk sometimes. If you've got more to spill, let's do it over food."
Something inside her buckled. Not a collapse, but a shift. A pain she'd locked in her chest since the day of the killing stabbed back through, sharp enough to make her flinch. She caught the sincerity in his eyes, and though she couldn't let go, not yet, it loosened the hold. Just enough.
She rubbed her eyes hard, like she was working out grit, then looked at the sagging building in front of them.
"This is it?"
"Don't be fooled. Owner's got a cooking system. Cold as a corpse, but her food's worth it. And don't forget—this goes on your debt."
He stepped inside without hesitation.
Min lingered, her eyes fixed on his back. For a breath the burden on her shoulders felt lighter. The thought of food almost let her forget. Almost.
But the moment slipped, replaced by the memory that always came when she let herself breathe. Blood coating her fists. Her sister's body at her feet. The faces of the others breaking as they stared at her.
The weight snapped back, crushing. It never eased. It never would.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself through the door.