Dawn – Eastern Ruins, Section C
The rift entrance pulsed with a sickly purple light, casting twisted shadows across the rubble. Min-jun stood with four other hunters, checking his gear one last time. His hands shook slightly as he adjusted the crude spear strapped to his back—salvaged steel tip lashed to a reinforced pipe shaft.
"First time in Awakened territory?" The bear-like man from yesterday—his name was Dae-ho—grinned, showing that missing tooth. "Don't worry. Just stay behind us and pick up cores. Easy money."
Easy. Right. Min-jun had heard that word before. Usually right before someone died.
The other three hunters looked experienced. A woman with twin hand axes hung at her hips, her Bronze rank badge polished to a shine. A lanky man carried a massive sledgehammer over one shoulder like it weighed nothing—Silver rank, his Gi visible as a faint shimmer around his body. The last was barely older than Min-jun, but his eyes were cold, dead. He carried nothing but his bare hands, knuckles scarred and calloused.
"Chen, you're on point," Dae-ho ordered. The bare-handed fighter nodded and stepped through the rift first.
'Whoosh.' Reality bent, and he disappeared.
"Song-yi, rear guard." The woman with axes followed. Then the sledgehammer man. Then Dae-ho.
Min-jun took a deep breath and stepped through.
The world *lurched*. His stomach twisted, vision blurred, and suddenly he was standing in a tunnel that hadn't existed a moment before. The walls were wrong—too smooth, like they'd been melted rather than carved. The air smelled of garbage and something sweet and rotten.
"Stay close," Dae-ho muttered. "These dungeons been acting weird lately. Rooms move. Paths change."
They moved deeper, boots 'crunch-crunch-crunching' on loose gravel. The tunnel opened into a chamber lit by glowing fungus on the ceiling. Dead beasts littered the floor—Fledgling class, their bodies torn apart by something with claws the size of Min-jun's forearm.
"Fresh kills," Song-yi whispered, kneeling by one. "Maybe an hour old."
"Something bigger did this." Chen's voice was flat, emotionless. "Awakened Beast. Probably still nearby."
Min-jun's grip tightened on his spear. 'This is it. Real combat. Don't screw up.'
A growl echoed from deeper in the chamber. Low, rumbling, like rocks grinding together.
Everyone froze.
From the shadows, something emerged. It walked on four legs, each one thick as tree trunks. Its body was covered in stone-like plates that 'click-clacked' with each step. Its head—if you could call it that—was just a gaping maw filled with grinding teeth that looked like jagged crystals.
Stone-Crawler. Awakened Beast, estimated threat level: Bronze-tier hunters in groups of 3-4.
The sledgehammer man—his name was Jin—grinned. "Finally. Something worth hitting."
He charged. His Gi flared, the sledgehammer glowing with condensed energy. 'WHAM!' The hammer smashed into the beast's side. 'CRACK!' Stone plates shattered, but the creature barely staggered.
It whipped around faster than something that size had any right to move. Its tail—a massive club of rock—swung. 'WHOOSH!'
Jin-woo tried to dodge. Almost made it. The tail clipped his shoulder. 'CRUNCH.' He flew backward, slamming into the wall with a 'thud' that made Min-jun's teeth hurt.
"Jin!" Song-yi rushed forward, axes flashing. She struck at the beast's legs, 'clang-clang-clang' , sparks flying as metal met stone. The creature roared—a sound like an avalanche—and lunged.
Chen was already moving. He slid under the creature's charge, bare hands glowing with golden Gi. He punched upward into its exposed belly. 'Boom!' The impact echoed. The Stone-Crawler shrieked and reared up.
"Now, Dae-ho!" Chen shouted.
Dae-ho's axe came down in a brutal overhead swing, Gi concentrated at the blade's edge. It bit deep into the creature's neck where the stone plates were thinnest. 'SQUELCH.' Black blood sprayed.
The Stone-Crawler thrashed wildly. Its tail swept the room. Song-yi jumped back. Chen rolled away. Dae-ho yanked his axe free and stumbled.
The tail was coming for Min-jun.
Time slowed. He saw the massive stone club rushing toward his face. Saw the jagged edges that would pulverize his skull. Heard his mother's voice in his memory: "Come back safe."
His body moved before his brain caught up. He dropped flat. 'WHOOSH!' The tail passed overhead, close enough that he felt the wind of its passage.
The Stone-Crawler collapsed. Dead. Finally.
Silence except for heavy breathing.
"Everyone alive?" Dae-ho panted.
Jin groaned from where he'd hit the wall. "Shoulder's broken. Can't lift the hammer."
"We extract the core and get out," Chen said, already moving toward the corpse. His voice was still flat, like they hadn't just almost died.
Min-jun lay on the ground, heart pounding so hard it hurt. His hands wouldn't stop shaking.'I almost died. I almost died. I almost—'
"Kid." Dae-ho's face appeared above him. "You good?"
"Y-yeah." Min-jun forced himself to sit up. "I'm good."
"Good reflexes. You might actually survive this." Dae-ho offered a hand and pulled him up.
Chen cut into the beast's chest, pulling out a core the size of a fist. It pulsed with dull grey light—worth maybe fifty meal tokens. Decent pay for one kill.
"Let's move. Where there's one Stone-Crawler, there's usually more." Song-yi was already heading for the exit tunnel.
As they left, Min-jun glanced back at the dead beast. His first Awakened kill. Except he hadn't killed it. Hadn't even scratched it. Just survived.
'Is this what being a hunter means? Just... surviving until you don't?'
---
Training Yard – Same Time
Mira blocked Min-ho's spear thrust with her forearm, the impact sending a 'thwack' through the morning air. "Better. But you're telegraphing your attacks. I can see them coming before you even move."
Min-ho panted, sweat dripping. "How do I fix that?"
"Stop thinking so much." Ka-jin's voice came from behind them. He'd been watching silently for the past hour. "Your brain decides to attack, then your body follows. Too slow. You need to train until your body attacks before your brain finishes thinking."
"That doesn't make sense," Min-ho protested.
"Doesn't have to make sense. Just has to work." Ka-jin picked up a small rock and tossed it at Min-ho without warning.
The kid's spear moved. 'Snap!' The rock deflected off the shaft before Min-ho even registered what happened.
"See? Your body knew. Your brain didn't." Ka-jin picked up another rock. "Again."
*Snap!* Blocked.
"Again."
*Snap!*
"Again."
This continued for twenty throws. Min-ho blocked eighteen of them. The other two hit him—one in the shoulder, one in the ribs. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to sting.
"Good," Ka-jin said. "Your body's learning. Keep practicing like this every day. In a month, you might not die instantly in a real fight."
"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," Min-ho grumbled, but he was grinning.