Mira watched the exchange, something warm settling in her chest. Teaching felt... right. Like she was passing something important forward instead of just surviving day to day.
A commotion at the edge of the training yard drew their attention. People were shouting, gathering around something.
"What's going on?" Min-ho asked.
They pushed through the crowd. In the center, a hunter sat on the ground, covered in blood—not all of it his own. His eyes were wide, vacant. Shell-shocked.
"What happened?" someone in the crowd asked.
"Eastern ruins," the hunter croaked. "Section B collapsed. The rooms... they moved. Walls shifted. Half our party got crushed. The other half... something was waiting. Something big."
"How many made it out?"
"Just me." The hunter's hands shook. "Just... just me."
The crowd murmured. Fear rippled through them like wind through grass.
'Section B' , Mira thought. 'That's right next to Section C.'
She looked at Ka-jin. His expression was unreadable, but his hand had moved to the hammer at his belt.
"The dungeons are changing," someone in the crowd whispered. "Getting more dangerous."
"We need to report this to the hunter guilds," another said.
"What guilds? They barely exist anymore. We're on our own."
Mira felt Min-ho press closer to her, suddenly looking very young. "Are we still going to train tomorrow?" he asked quietly.
She wanted to say yes. Wanted to tell him everything would be okay. But she'd seen too much death to lie to a kid who was trying to survive.
"Yeah," she said. "We train. Because that's how we stay alive."
---
Ji-hye's Tent – Midday
Jae-sung stared at the notification on his comm device. It was from Dae-ho's hunting party—an automated message sent to emergency contacts when someone entered a rift.
'"Party entered Eastern Ruins, Section C at 06:00. Expected return: 10:00. Current time: 12:47. Status: Overdue."'
His hands clenched into fists. Overdue meant missing. Missing usually meant dead.
"Min-jun's group?" Ji-hye asked quietly from behind him. She was holding baby Yoo, rocking him gently, but her face was pale.
"Yeah." Jae-sung set the comm down. "They're three hours overdue."
Ji-hye was silent for a long moment. Then she sat down heavily, still holding Yoo. "He's all I have left," she whispered. "If he doesn't come back..."
"He'll come back." Jae-sung tried to sound confident. "He's tough. Smart. He'll make it."
But he'd said the same thing about his friend. The one who died in that dungeon trap three weeks ago.
Baby Yoo watched them both with those too-aware eyes.
Analysis: Target "Min-jun" is experiencing elevated danger. Probability of survival if party is three hours overdue: 31%.
'Stop,' Yoo thought at Akasha Archive. 'I don't need the numbers. I know it's bad.'
He looked at Ji-hye's face—the way she was trying not to cry, trying to stay strong. This woman had lost two children already. If she lost her last one...
'I'm so useless,' Yoo thought bitterly. 'Can't help. Can't do anything. Just a baby lying here while people die.'
Correction: Current physical capabilities are limited. However, passive energy absorption continues. Estimated time until sufficient motor control for basic movement: 4-6 weeks. Estimated time until speech capability: 8-12 weeks.
'Months,' Yoo thought. 'People will be dead in months.'
A knock on the tent pole. "It's Dr. Choi. I heard about Min-jun's party. Any word?"
Ji-hye shook her head, not trusting her voice.
Choi stepped inside, medical bag in hand. "I'm setting up an emergency treatment station at the rift entrance. For when they come back." Not if. When. Small kindness, pretending there was still hope.
"Thank you," Ji-hye managed.
As Choi turned to leave, he glanced at baby Yoo. Their eyes met. The doctor's expression flickered—recognition, concern, something else Yoo couldn't quite read.
'He knows,' Yoo realized. 'He knows I'm not normal?'
But Choi said nothing. Just nodded once and left.
---
Eastern Ruins – Section C, Four Hours Later
Min-jun limped through the rift exit, supported by Song-yi. They collapsed onto the ground outside, gasping.
Behind them came Dae-ho, carrying Jin over his shoulder. The sledgehammer man was unconscious, breathing shallow.
Chen emerged last, covered in black blood. His dead eyes scanned the area automatically, checking for threats.
That was it. Five went in. Five came out. But Jin-woo looked half-dead, and they'd lost all their supplies when Section C suddenly shifted and nearly trapped them in a dead-end that was filling with some kind of acidic gas.
Dr. Choi rushed over with his emergency kit. "Get him here. Now."
As Choi worked on Jin-woo, Min-jun pulled out his comm and sent a message to his mother: "I'm alive. Coming home soon."
Three words that meant everything.
He looked at the cores in his pack. Three Fledgling cores and half of the Stone-Crawler core—his share of the split. Maybe twenty meal tokens worth.
'Nearly died for twenty meal tokens,' he thought. 'And I'll probably do it again tomorrow.'
Because that's what hunters did. Risk death for survival. Over and over until luck ran out.
Song-yi sat beside him, wrapping a bandage around a gash on her arm. "First real hunt?"
"Yeah."
"Gets easier." She didn't sound convinced.
"Does it?"
"No. But you get better at pretending it does."
Chen stood apart from them, cleaning black blood off his hands with a rag. His expression never changed. Min-jun wondered what you had to go through to get eyes that dead.
'Don't want to find out,' Min-jun thought.
Dae-ho joined them after Choi stabilized Jin-woo. "Kid, you did good today. Didn't panic, followed orders, survived. You're in for the next run if you want."
Min-jun thought about his mother waiting at home. Thought about the baby she was caring for. Thought about the twenty meal tokens that would feed them for a week.
"I'm in," he said.
Because what choice did he have?
---
Ji-hye's Tent – Evening
Min-jun pushed through the tent flap, exhausted and bloody but alive.
Ji-hye dropped everything and grabbed him in a crushing hug. "You're alive. You're alive."
"Mom, I'm okay—"
"Don't you dare say you're okay. You're covered in blood and you smell like death." But she was crying now, relief overwhelming her.
Jae-sung clasped Min-jun's shoulder. "Good work. You survived."
Min-jun nodded, too tired for words. He handed his mother the cores. "Twenty tokens worth. For food."
Ji-hye took them with shaking hands. "Thank you. But please... be careful. I can't lose you too."
"I will, Mom. I promise."
Baby Yoo watched from his blanket nest as Min-jun collapsed onto a mat and immediately fell asleep. The young hunter's Gi was chaotic, disturbed from the day's fighting. But underneath the chaos, it was growing stronger.
Analysis: Subject "Min-jun" survived first Awakened Beast encounter. Gi pathways show initial expansion. Estimated advancement to mid-Bronze tier: 2-3 months with continued combat exposure.
'He'll keep going back,' Yoo thought. 'Keep risking his life. And one day his luck will run out.'
Probability of survival over extended period: Declining daily. Without significant advancement in power or tactical expertise, projected lifespan: 8-14 months.
'Stop giving me numbers!'
You asked.
Yoo closed his eyes, frustration burning in his tiny chest. All around him, people were fighting, dying, struggling to survive. And he could only watch, helpless and small.
'I need to grow faster. Need to be strong enough to help. Before everyone I'm starting to care about is dead.'
But growth took time. And time was something they might not have.
Outside the tent, the slums settled into uneasy night. Fires flickered. People whispered about the dungeons changing, about the increasing death rates, about the growing fear that humanity's brief golden age was just a prelude to extinction.
In his pocket dimension beyond reality, Aethon studied the chessboard with crystalline intensity.
"The pieces are becoming more interesting," it observed.
Chaos rippled with dark amusement. "They always do. Just before they break."
They made their next move.
Somewhere in the world, another rift opened.