The air was thick — almost viscous — with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid bite of scorched magic.
Every breath seared my lungs.
The dungeon walls pulsed faintly, like veins carrying the heartbeat of some ancient, malevolent thing.
The obsidian floor was slick beneath me — slick with sweat, blood, and the shattered remnants of dreams I'd sworn to protect.
My knees threatened to give way, but I locked them in place. I couldn't collapse. Not yet.
I am Kael Draven — the world's only SSS-rank hunter.
The strongest man alive.
Or… I thought I was.
One more room. That's all that stood between me and the heart of the Hellfire Abyss — the deadliest dungeon ever clawed out from the earth.
One more step, and history would remember my name.
But history doesn't remember the dead.
Behind me lay silence… the kind that comes only when no one is left to scream.
My comrades — friends, brothers-in-arms — scattered across the dungeon like discarded puppets, their strings cut.
Slain by monsters… or worse.
I was the last one standing.
"Kael."
The voice cut through the suffocating stillness like a knife through flesh.
Guild Master Aric's shadow loomed over me — long, cold, and merciless.
"You've done well."
Pain gnawed at my ribs, but I forced a grin. "We're not finished yet."
My gaze fixed on the portal ahead — the shimmering gateway to the final chamber.
The Infernal Wyrm waited beyond, coiled and patient.
Then… the light of the portal wavered.
And it snapped shut.
A hollow sound echoed in my chest — as if my heartbeat had been stolen.
"Where are they?" My voice cracked, the question more plea than demand.
Aric smiled, and it was the smile of a man who had no use for masks anymore.
"Dead. Every last one."
The words hit harder than any blow.
"Why?"
"Because you climbed too high." His voice was silk wrapped around venom. "The world can't have gods walking among mortals."
Behind him, a low growl swelled into a quake.
The Infernal Wyrm stepped from the shadows, its scales glowing with veins of molten fire, eyes burning with hunger older than kingdoms.
"Goodbye, Kael."
Aric stepped into a teleport rune, his figure melting away.
And then it was just me.
Me… and death.
The Wyrm lunged.
I threw myself aside, my blades singing, lightning ripping through my veins.
Every strike was desperation, every breath a stolen moment.
Its tail caught me mid-step.
The wall stopped me — hard.
Pain erupted in my ribs like fireworks, each one brighter and sharper than the last.
Blood filled my mouth, thick and metallic. My vision blurred at the edges.
Darkness pulled at me, soft and cold.
And then—
Ding!
Fatal condition detected.
Activating Regression Protocol…
Warning: Rank reset to F−.
A white light swallowed everything — pain, fear, the dungeon itself.
I gasped and opened my eyes.
Gone were the obsidian walls.
Above me stretched the familiar cracked ceiling of my apartment.
A flickering lightbulb buzzed lazily.
The stale scent of instant noodles hung heavy.
My heart hammered.
I looked at my hands — unscarred, unbroken, trembling.
The calendar on the wall read April 12th. Ten years ago.
The memories came like a flood.
The betrayal.
The pain.
The moment Aric's smile turned to a knife in my back.
It wasn't a dream.
I had been dragged back to the beginning.
My fists clenched until my nails dug into flesh.
"This time," I whispered, each word a vow etched into my bones, "I'll kill them first."
Rage burned through me, but beneath it… cold, deliberate resolve.
From F− rank, the lowest scrap of humanity, I would climb again.
I would tear my way to the summit.
And when I stood there, a god among men, I would make them choke on their regret.
The clock ticked.
The dawn of my second life had begun.