The fluorescent lights of the convenience store buzzed overhead like dying insects as Kim Ji-woo restocked energy drinks with mechanical precision. His hands moved automatically, muscle memory from three years of night shifts guiding him while his mind wandered to darker places.
Debt remaining: ₩847,000,000
The number burned in his mind like a brand. Eight hundred forty-seven million won. His father's gambling debts, transferred to him the day the old man threw himself off the Mapo Bridge. A parting gift of despair.
"Excuse me, do you have any more of the banana milk?" A customer's voice cut through his thoughts.
Ji-woo forced a smile, the same empty expression he'd perfected over countless shifts. "I'll check the back."
Twenty-eight years old, and this was his life. Day shift at a warehouse, night shift at the convenience store, four hours of sleep if he was lucky. The loan sharks had been patient at first, almost kind. Now they were circling like the predators they truly were.
His phone buzzed. Unknown number.
His stomach dropped. They always called from different numbers.
"Mr. Kim, this is your final courtesy call." The voice was smooth, professional, more terrifying than any threat. "The interest has accumulated significantly. We'll need the minimum payment of fifteen million won by Friday, or we'll be forced to take alternative measures."
"I-I just need more time. I'm working two jobs—"
"We're aware of your employment situation. We're also aware of your younger sister's scholarship at Yonsei University. It would be unfortunate if circumstances forced her to withdraw."
The line went dead.
Ji-woo's hand trembled as he lowered the phone. Soo-jin. They were threatening Soo-jin now. His brilliant little sister who'd earned a full scholarship, who didn't even know about the debt because he'd hidden it from her. She thought their father had left them a small insurance policy.
"Hey, you okay?" His coworker, Park Min-jae, appeared in the doorway. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm fine." The lie tasted bitter.
Min-jae didn't look convinced, but he didn't push. Nobody wanted to hear about other people's problems. Everyone was drowning in their own.
The rest of the shift blurred together. Scan items, bag items, bow, repeat. A thousand small transactions that meant nothing, earned nothing, changed nothing.
At 6 AM, Ji-woo finally stepped out into the grey Seoul dawn. The city was already awakening, millions of people rushing toward their own private struggles. He used to have dreams once. University, a good job, maybe even traveling abroad. Now he just dreamed of the debt reaching zero.
His phone buzzed again. This time, not a call—a notification from an app he didn't recognize.
[DEBT REAPER - SYSTEM INSTALLATION COMPLETE]
[WELCOME, PLAYER]
Ji-woo stared at the screen. He didn't remember downloading anything. Some kind of spam? He moved to delete it, but the app opened on its own.
The screen flickered, and text began scrolling across it in blood-red letters.
[YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED]
[CURRENT DEBT: ₩847,000,000]
[PROFESSION: DEBT REAPER]
[YOUR DEBT WILL BE ERASED WHEN YOU REACH LEVEL 100]
[FAILURE TO PARTICIPATE WILL RESULT IN TERMINATION]
[FIRST DUNGEON OPENS IN: 00:10:00]
"What the hell?" Ji-woo muttered, trying to close the app. It wouldn't budge. He tried restarting his phone. The screen stayed locked on the countdown.
Nine minutes, thirty seconds.
This had to be a prank. Or maybe he'd finally snapped from exhaustion. But the countdown kept ticking, relentless as the debt itself.
[PREPARE YOURSELF]
[EQUIPMENT HAS BEEN DEPOSITED IN YOUR INVENTORY]
Inventory? Ji-woo almost laughed. This was insane. But then his phone screen shifted, showing a grid of empty squares. All except one, which contained an icon of a rusty knife.
Against every instinct that told him this was crazy, Ji-woo reached toward the screen and touched the icon.
The world lurched.
In his hand, solid and impossibly real, was a knife. Not a phone image, not a hologram—an actual rusted blade about a foot long, its handle wrapped in cracked leather.
Ji-woo dropped it with a yelp. The knife clattered on the pavement, real as the concrete beneath his feet.
[00:07:23]
His heart hammered. This wasn't possible. This violated every law of physics, every rule of reality he'd ever known. But the knife lay there, undeniable.
He picked it up again, feeling its weight. Real. Absolutely real.
[00:05:00]
Ji-woo looked around wildly. The street was still empty, the dawn still grey. Nobody else seemed affected. Should he run? Hide? But where would he go? And the message had said "failure to participate will result in termination."
That sounded pretty damn final.
[00:03:00]
His breathing came faster. Three minutes until... what? What was a dungeon? Like in video games? This was impossible. Impossible. But the knife in his hand was real, and his debt was real, and maybe—just maybe—this nightmare of an offer was real too.
Erase the debt at level 100.
Three years of his life gone to working himself to death, and he'd barely made a dent in the principal. The interest accumulated faster than he could earn. At this rate, he'd be old or dead before it was paid off. And now they were threatening Soo-jin.
[00:01:00]
Ji-woo tightened his grip on the knife. If this was madness, at least it was a different kind of madness than the slow death he'd been living.
[00:00:30]
"Alright," he whispered to the universe, to whatever force had chosen him. "Let's see what you've got."
[00:00:10]
The countdown hit zero.
The world split open.
There was no other way to describe it. The grey morning street tore like paper, and through the tear, Ji-woo saw darkness. Not the absence of light, but a living, breathing darkness that seemed to watch him.
[ENTERING DUNGEON: ABANDONED SUBWAY STATION - LEVEL 1]
[OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE FOR 30 MINUTES]
[REWARD: ₩10,000,000 DEBT REDUCTION + EXPERIENCE]
[PENALTY FOR FAILURE: DEATH]
The tear expanded, and gravity reversed. Ji-woo felt himself pulled forward, his scream lost in the void. The real world vanished behind him like a forgotten dream.
He hit stone floor hard, the impact driving the air from his lungs. Dust and decay filled his nostrils. Somewhere in the darkness, something dripped—slow, deliberate, patient.
Ji-woo struggled to his feet, raising the rusty knife with shaking hands. Emergency lights flickered weakly along what looked like an old subway platform, their sickly yellow glow revealing graffiti-covered walls and broken tiles.
And eyes.
Dozens of eyes, glowing faint green in the shadows.
[ENEMY ENCOUNTERED: TUNNEL RATS - LEVEL 1]
[QUANTITY: 47]
The eyes moved closer, and Ji-woo saw them clearly now. Rats. But not normal rats—each one was the size of a large cat, their fur matted and diseased, teeth like yellow needles. They moved with unnatural coordination, spreading out to surround him.
[TIME REMAINING: 29:54]
The first rat lunged.
Instinct took over. Ji-woo swung the knife, more prayer than technique. The blade caught the rat mid-leap, and to his shock, it actually cut. The creature dissolved into black smoke with a horrible shriek.
[EXPERIENCE +1]
No time to process. Three more rats attacked from different angles. Ji-woo backpedaled, slashing wildly. One got through his defense, its teeth sinking into his calf. Pain exploded up his leg, white-hot and real.
Too real.
This wasn't a game. This was life or death.
And Kim Ji-woo, drowning in debt and desperation, discovered something he'd forgotten in three years of soul-crushing work: he wanted to live.
He wanted to live more than anything.
The knife rose and fell, and Ji-woo fought like his life depended on it.
Because it did.
[END OF CHAPTER 1]