The entrance to the Sun-Scorched Ravine was not a grand gate, but a wound in the earth, a jagged fissure that leaked a palpable, baking heat. Standing before it was a small, fortified checkpoint flying the flag of the National Hunter Association (NHA). Two bored-looking, heavily armed guards sat in the shade of an awning, their job to manage the flow of Awakeners and collect the entry fee.
Jin Park approached the checkpoint, his heavy Gnasher cleaver wrapped in cloth and strapped to his back. He was dressed in dark, durable work clothes, looking more like a miner's apprentice than a hunter.
"ID card and entry fee," the first guard grunted, not bothering to get up. His eyes scanned Jin Park with a mixture of boredom and disdain. "E-Rank dungeon. Fifty Aurum."
Fifty Aurum. It was a staggering amount for him now, nearly everything he had left after buying his gear. The NHA priced the fees not just for profit, but as a barrier to entry, a way to discourage ill-equipped fools from getting themselves killed and causing problems.
Jin Park handed over the coins and his new, provisional ID card. The guard took it, his gaze lingering on the "provisional" stamp.
"Jin Park, huh? Job: Chef," the guard read aloud, a smirk touching his lips. He looked up at Jin Park. "A chef? You planning on cooking the rocks in there, kid? Or did you get lost on your way to a kitchen?"
His partner snickered. "Maybe he's here to pick up lunch for his party."
"I'm just gathering some ingredients," Jin Park said, his voice quiet and humble, his eyes fixed on the ground. He let the humiliation wash over him, using it to reinforce his harmless persona.
The guard shrugged, stamping a temporary entry permit. "Your funeral. Don't expect a rescue if a Sand Beetle decides to use you as a toothpick. The entry fee doesn't cover that." He handed back the ID and the permit. "You've got 24 hours before the permit expires. Get moving."
Jin Park bowed his head slightly and walked past the checkpoint. Just as he did, a party of four boisterous Awakeners jogged up, clad in gleaming new gear. The lead warrior slapped a handful of silver Aurum coins on the counter. "Four for the Ravine! Let's go break some shells!" The guards treated them with a casual respect, a world away from the scorn they'd shown him. They didn't spare Jin Park a single glance.
He entered the fissure, and the world changed. The sounds of the guards and the other party vanished, replaced by an oppressive silence broken only by the crunch of his boots on gravel. The air grew significantly hotter. He was inside the dungeon.
He didn't charge in blindly. His first priority was survival. He found a shadowed alcove and sat, his back against the warm rock. He began the tedious, mind-numbing grind of leveling his new skills. He activated Toughen Skin repeatedly, feeling the faint glimmer of mana as his skin hardened for thirty seconds at a time.
[Skill: Toughen Skin (Normal) has gained a small amount of experience.]
After nearly half an hour, a welcome chime sounded in his head.
[Skill: Toughen Skin (Normal) has reached Lv. 2.]
> Description: An active skill. Temporarily hardens the skin, providing minor resistance against physical attacks. Duration slightly increased.
He then practiced Power Strike, channeling mana into his fist and letting it dissipate. It was even slower to level, but any progress was vital. This was the harsh reality of growth without a party or wealth.
After an hour, he felt as ready as he could be. He unwrapped the Gnasher cleaver and began to move deeper into the winding canyon, staying close to the walls, his silence his greatest ally. He soon found the tell-tale burrows of his prey. He was in their territory.
Crouching behind a large boulder, he peered into a sun-drenched clearing. There it was.
The Crimson-Shelled Sand Beetle, the size of a large dog, its reddish-brown carapace gleaming under the harsh sun. Its vicious mandibles clicked as it dug idly in the sand. Jin Park's mind went into overdrive, analyzing its anatomy, identifying the weak points at its leg joints. A direct confrontation was suicide. He had to be a predator.
He gripped the Gnasher, his knuckles white. He activated Toughen Skin and crept forward. He would only get one clean shot. He burst from cover, swinging the heavy cleaver at the creature's nearest leg joint and activating Power Strike at the moment of impact.
CLANG!
The cleaver hit the joint with a sickening crunch of chitin. The beetle let out a piercing, high-pitched shriek of pain and fury, its leg bending at an unnatural angle. It wasn't severed, but it was crippled.
The monster spun, its beady black eyes locking onto him. His Imperceptible talent was useless now. It charged, churning up the sand with terrifying speed. Jin Park dodged to the side, the beetle's powerful mandibles snapping shut where his head had been a second before.
The monster, enraged, charged again. There was no time for another planned strike. This was a pure battle for survival. He was outmatched in every physical way.
But he had one thing the beetle didn't: a mind capable of cold, ruthless calculation in the face of death. He wasn't just Jin Park, the Level 1 Chef. He was Muyeong, the survivor. And Muyeong knew that in a fight you couldn't win, you changed the rules.