《Doom Knight Dungeon》


 Chapter 1 - The Day I Died

    The samurai warrior had descended all the way into madness, slashing at the ghosts of those he had slain in a burning oiran brothel somewhere in Kyoto. How far could one go down the rabbit hole before madness devoured them completely? The samurai carved through the shadows of the spirits on the paper walls with his katana, a blade said to hold the soul of a warrior. He had killed both the guilty and the innocent. The clan didn¡¯t appreciate the chaos. Bad for business. The problem? Even a hundred men weren¡¯t enough to stop him.


    He cut through them like they were nothing. One after the other, they fell. Eventually, one brave soul managed to land a blow, plunging a sword into the samurai¡¯s shoulder. No pain. Just a devilish grin and the glint of hellfire in his black eyes. Blood poured from the wound, running down his arm and along his blade. The samurai flung some of his own demonic blood onto his attacker, and the man¡¯s screams filled the room as it burned like fire in his eyes. The samurai raised his katana and...


    "Yuki-chan, happy birthday!"


    I sighed. "Thanks, Grandma."


    "Come to the kitchen, dear. Breakfast is ready."


    Sighing again, I grabbed the remote and paused my favorite black-and-white movie from the 1960s. I¡¯d already watched it dozens of times, usually in the morning before school or late at night when nightmares about my life kept me awake.


    How I wished I could be that samurai. Sure, he lost his soul, but in exchange, he gained unimaginable power. No one at school would dare bully me then. No one would pull pranks on me or corner me in the bathroom just to beat me up.


    Who am I?


    My name is Takuya Nakamura, and today I turned seventeen. I¡¯m half-Japanese, half-Korean. Most importantly: Yuki-chan is what only my grandmother is allowed to call me. No one else. And for those of you who don¡¯t know what it means? Don¡¯t bother looking it up. Just don¡¯t.


    I put the remote back on the couch and shouted loud enough for the neighbors upstairs and downstairs to hear me¡ªbut not loud enough for Grandma, who was standing just outside my door. I opened it, and when I saw her warm, gentle smile, I couldn¡¯t help but smile back. "Here I am," I said.


    Yumi folded her age-spotted hands in front of her apron and nodded, smiling. "Good morning to you too," she replied, clearly misunderstanding me.


    It was just before seven-thirty, and soft early-spring sunlight streamed through the kitchen window. Guilt hit me like a truck when I saw the breakfast table. We were poor (terribly poor) but from the looks of the spread Grandma had prepared for my birthday, you¡¯d think we were part of the city¡¯s elite.


    Breakfast was laid out on a low wooden table, an artful feast arranged in bowls and porcelain plates. A steaming bowl of glossy white rice. A small plate of kimchi, with its chili, garlic, and ginger marinade giving off a sweet and spicy aroma. Next to the rice were a bowl of clear broth and a mild seaweed soup. And there were side dishes... so many side dishes... like fried anchovies, marinated spinach with sesame oil and garlic, and Korean-style omelets.


    The worst part?


    I couldn¡¯t eat a bite.


    Mornings always made me sick to my stomach, especially when I thought about what new torment my bullies at school had planned for me that day.


    I forced a smile.


    Not every story has to start with action, I guess. Some start like mine. A little slice of peace before the storm. Why did I choose to start my story on this day? Because it¡¯s my birthday? Nah, that¡¯s just a coincidence. I started here because this was the day I died for the first time.


    But I didn¡¯t know that yet as I sat at the breakfast table.


    Sure, every morning before high school, I braced myself for the possibility of coming home with a black eye, a broken jaw, or a missing tooth (or a shaved head, like six weeks ago). But I¡¯d never actually considered the idea of dying.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Grandma and I ate in quiet harmony, enjoying the feast she¡¯d prepared. I was grateful for the silence because it meant she wouldn¡¯t ask any questions that might expose me for what I was: a pathetic liar. Yeah. I wasn¡¯t just a coward and a weakling... I was a liar too. And I had a feeling you couldn¡¯t really be one without the other.


    I told Grandma everything was fine at school.


    I told her I planned to go to college after high school to become a doctor. Or a teacher.


    But the truth was, I hated school. And the thought of being stuck with my classmates for even more years at college filled me with panic. And fear. And rage.


    "This is delicious, Grandma," I said as cheerfully as I could, tucking some dry rice into my cheek like a squirrel. My mouth was so dry it felt like sandpaper.


    "Thank you so much!" I added. "You didn¡¯t have to go through all this trouble!"


    "What¡¯s that?"


    "YOU DIDN¡¯T HAVE TO DO THAT!"


    "You¡¯re chasing the hat?"


    "NO, THANKS, GRANDMA! JUST THANKS!"


    She smiled. "Family means everything to me. And you, Yuki-chan... you¡¯re my family. All that¡¯s left."


    I scooped up more rice and kimchi, chewing the first bite slowly as I looked at my grandmother, warmth spreading through my chest. As spotless and pristine as the breakfast table was, so was Yumi herself. Even at nearly ninety years old, she looked full of life. For my birthday, she¡¯d put on her colorful kimono, a treasured heirloom she clung to. Her gray hair was tied neatly into a careful bun, and she kept touching it every few moments to check if her kanzashi were still in place. Kanzashi are not chopsticks, by the way!


    "You know, Yuki-chan," she began, her voice soft but firm, "the world has never been in order. It¡¯s always been about carving out a little island of peace in a broken world, holding on to whatever happiness you can. My parents made it through the war. Through famine. Through sickness and death. And we¡¯ll get through this disaster, too."


    For a moment, I thought she was talking about high school. My stomach clenched. Then she gestured toward the window with her chopsticks, and I realized she meant them. The mysterious cracks that had been forming all over the world for the past five years. We call them the Abysses. Monsters pour out of them, threatening to destroy the world. And brave heroes (or sometimes just greedy hunters) stand against the apocalypse that no one knows how to stop.


    "The most important thing in times like these," my grandmother continued, "is to stay sensible. A day will come when humanity will find a way to seal these horrible Abysses once and for all. And then everything will return to how it used to be. Maybe even better. Maybe humanity will finally learn to work together."


    Yeah. Maybe. But probably not. I hadn¡¯t seen any signs of unity. Not at school, at least.


    "For you, Yuki-chan, the most important thing is to finish school and go to college. Become a doctor. Help those in need."


    I swallowed dryly, but the lump in my throat refused to budge. I met my grandmother¡¯s gaze and nodded seriously, but inside, I felt like ice was crawling up my spine. Thunderclouds gathered over what had started as a perfect morning. What kind of grandson was I? Would she understand that I was doing all of this out of love for her?


    Yumi Nakamura was a proud woman who valued education above all else. Born just before the end of World War II, she had grown up in post-war Japan, a time ravaged by hunger, disease, and devastation. The economic situation was dire, and she¡¯d told me countless stories about how families struggled in the aftermath of the war. Her father, my great-grandfather, had died in the war, leaving her mother to work tirelessly to keep the family afloat. In our family, it had always been the women working while the men died. That was the common thread in the Nakamura history. And those experiences had shaped her unwavering belief that education and discipline were the keys to a better life.


    And what was I, her idiot grandson, doing?


    Throwing those values right out the window.


    Because the truth was, I wanted to drop out of school and become a monster hunter. I wanted to be strong and brave, to carve out a name for myself as a hero. That dream called to me far more than some boring high school diploma ever could.


    I had sworn to myself that as a monster hunter, I¡¯d make enough money to buy us a house. My grandmother had always dreamed of having a home of her own, away from this miserable apartment block in Jungnang-gu.


    But I couldn¡¯t tell her that.


    The shock alone might send her to the grave.


    And Yumi was the only person I had left, after my... Well, that¡¯s a story for another time.


    I glanced at the clock on the wall. Crap. It was late. I stuffed a few fried anchovies into my mouth and washed them down with green tea that was still way too hot. For a moment, I froze, my stomach churning violently. I felt like I was going to puke.


    "What are you waiting for, Yuki-chan? I can see you¡¯re not hungry. And you don¡¯t need to sit there watching an old lady eat. School is waiting for you. Your friends. Go on now."


    I forced a smile, stood up, slipped on my house slippers, and gave my grandmother a quick, dry kiss on the forehead.


    "Love you," I said in Japanese, and as I stood in the doorway to the hall, I glanced back at her. She was kneeling in front of the low table, her posture straight, silently eating the breakfast she had so lovingly prepared for her grandson. I turned and left. Instead of heading to school, I made a quick stop in the bathroom to throw up. God, I felt miserable.


    I wished I could be someone else.


    Someone who had their life together. Someone strong and brave.


    I¡¯d pay any price for that.


    Any price.

 Chapter 2 - Toilet Brush Samurai

    The chalkboard today had a new message, written in bold capital letters:


    TAKUYA IS A PIECE OF DOG SHIT


    I couldn¡¯t tear my eyes away from the sheer creativity of it. For the entire class, my gaze kept drifting back to the chalkboard, where that one sentence sat, glaring back at me, its sole purpose to humiliate me. When I walked into the classroom after hiding out during break, I saw it and immediately moved to wipe it away... but Do-Hyun, that bastard, grabbed me. Meanwhile, Min-Kyu and some other goon started laying into me.


    Min-Kyu was the real piece of shit. A follower through and through. He only ever felt strong in Do-Hyun¡¯s presence. And why wouldn¡¯t he? Do-Hyun was untouchable. His parents were loaded. Successful business moguls who had conveniently donated a new gymnasium to the school just this year. Of course, he was the teacher¡¯s pet. Coincidence? Yeah, right.


    The anger in me boiled over.


    And what had Miss Park (our class teacher and the school principal) done when she walked into class? First, she carefully erased the rest of the board. But when she got to the part where it said I was a piece of dog shit, she paused, read it, and left it up.


    Now she stood there in her usual elegant posture, wearing a pristine silk blouse, an expensive pencil skirt, and thin-framed glasses.


    "As you¡¯ve probably seen on the news," she began in her calm, deliberate voice, "exactly one week ago, a new Abyss appeared nearby. In Everland amusement park, to be specific. It took less than twelve hours for those grotesque Hellspawn to take over the park and claim it as their domain. Hundreds of visitors and countless employees either lost their lives or were corrupted by the dark presence."


    Soo-Min raised her hand and was called on immediately, as always. Soo-Min was easily the prettiest girl in school. Maybe the prettiest girl in the entire world. There was only one problem with pretty girls: when you¡¯re a loser like me, they don¡¯t even look your way.


    So yeah, I¡¯ll admit it¡ªthere was a dark corner of my soul that resented her, even though I knew it wasn¡¯t her fault. If I were in her position, would I care about the scrawny kid with glasses who reeked of fear sweat and sat next to me as the class punching bag? I¡¯d probably pity him, but I definitely wouldn¡¯t be interested.


    "Exactly, Soo-Min," Miss Park said with a small smile. "There have already been four attempts by rookie Monster Hunters to reclaim the Hellspawn¡¯s domain... or as you¡¯d say, to clear the dungeon. All of them failed. Every last one of those Hunters lost their lives. The most recent attempt was just last night. And this afternoon, yet another group is scheduled to try."


    I¡¯d read about it on my phone this morning. Even though Everland was classified as an A-rank dungeon, all the groups so far had been wiped out. And when I say wiped, I mean dead. Permanently.


    I swallowed hard. Why was this topic making me so nervous?


    Oh, right. Because Sin-Joo and I had signed up for the dungeon as soon as it was announced. Yesterday, we got confirmation via the Dungeon Finder app: we¡¯d been placed in a random group, and our run was this afternoon.


    Happy birthday to me.


    And if we died, like all the others?


    Well¡­ at least I wouldn¡¯t have to deal with this shit anymore.


    When I wasn¡¯t binging old samurai movies, I was glued to the Dungeon Now app. It was a comprehensive database of all the newly discovered Abysses, complete with detailed boss information. Think Wikipedia, but exclusively for dungeon content. Even experienced Monster Hunters shared their strategies there. Sure, there was a lot of competition in the Monster Hunter world, but this virtual hub had a surprising sense of community. Knowledge was power, after all, and sharing it benefited everyone... including me and Sin-Joo, my one and only friend.


    Last night, during a marathon Discord session, we¡¯d crammed every single piece of intel about the Everland Dungeon. We¡¯d memorized the boss mechanics, the mob patterns, even potential exploits.


    "What makes entering a dungeon so dangerous," Miss Park continued, "is that we can never predict with absolute certainty how strong the monsters inside will be. We can measure something called the Nexus¡ªthe magical energy emitted by an Abyss. Generally, the higher the Nexus, the stronger the monsters. But as we¡¯ve seen with Everland, that¡¯s not always reliable. Were the groups too inexperienced? Or are the monsters unusually powerful? Unfortunately, bureaucracy moves slower than real life. Mistakes get made, and before they¡¯re fixed, new problems arise. It could take days before Everland¡¯s difficulty is officially adjusted. But today¡¯s group doesn¡¯t have that kind of time. They¡¯re going in blind."


    I glanced sideways at Sin-Joo, and at the same moment, he turned to look at me.


    We exchanged a conspiratorial grin.


    Over the past few months, we¡¯d signed up for dozens of beginner dungeons around Seoul, but the waitlists were always ridiculous. This was the first time we¡¯d gotten lucky. Through sheer chance, we¡¯d snagged a spot in the Everland Dungeon.


    This was our shot. The beginning of our Monster Hunter careers.


    Sin-Joo was like me. A scrawny, quiet kid who carried way too many books in his backpack. He dreamed of becoming a fearsome Paladin someday, and once he gained access to the leveling system, he planned to dump all his points into Intelligence.


    "Intelligence is the most powerful stat," he¡¯d always say.


    He was probably right.


    But me? I didn¡¯t want to outthink Do-Hyun. I wanted to punch his face in so hard he¡¯d go crying home to his mommy.


    "And one more thing, kids," said our teacher, though I was only half-listening at this point. "You should abandon any dreams of becoming a Paladin right now. If you hear the call of adventure, ignore it. Only about one percent of people survive their first encounter with the Abyss. Just one percent, statistically speaking, my dear students. And far fewer ever return alive. According to the data, of all the Monster Hunters who set their sights on becoming a Paladin, only 0.1% ever succeeded."If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Yeah, that was pretty bleak, I thought. But Sin-Joo didn¡¯t care. He was determined to make it. He¡¯d rather die than not even try. I respected him for that.


    Sin-Joo was an outsider, just like me. People called him weird. Maybe that¡¯s why they mostly left him alone: some part of them was subconsciously afraid of him. Weird. Once your classmates label you that, it¡¯s game over.


    Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring!


    The school bell. Five-minute break. I got up as Miss Park was still talking. Class was over. Break time was short. I had the right to get up, didn¡¯t I?


    Suddenly, I felt a hard blow to the back of my head. It was like being struck by lightning. My glasses flew off my face. Furious, I spun around.


    Let me introduce you to Choi Ji-Won. Eighteen years old. The school¡¯s best wrestler. Aggressive, unpredictable, and built like a tank. Sure, he was carrying a little extra weight, but that just made him more intimidating. He bullied the weak for fun, thriving off the power he held over them. Naturally, he was best friends with my archenemy, Do-Hyun.


    "Sit your ass back down, you little piece of dog shit," Ji-Won said, grinning at me.


    I clenched my fists. What was I supposed to do? I was trembling with rage, and my shaking just made the others laugh even harder.


    Miss Park shot me a sharp look. "Sit down immediately," she ordered. "I¡¯ll need to speak with your parents. You¡¯ve been very rude, Takuya."


    And then she said it.


    "Oh, I forgot... you don¡¯t have parents. Maybe that¡¯s why you¡¯re like this. No one to raise you properly."


    I sat back down.


    That¡¯s why I¡¯m like this, huh? Got it.


    I had tears in my eyes. My whole body was trembling with anger. I hated them. I hated all of them.


    My dad was dead, sure. But my mom? My mom was a researcher who¡¯d disappeared four years ago while on an expedition to Mount Namsan near Gyeongju. That mountain was famous for its countless Buddhist relics, temple ruins, and Buddha statues carved into the rocks. It was a treasure trove for someone like her. But then an Abyss opened up there and swallowed her whole.


    She didn¡¯t die instantly. The dimensional rift had dragged her into the Abyss, and she was never seen again. In South Korea, anyone who disappears into an Abyss is declared dead after three years.


    But not to me.


    To me, she was still alive. Somewhere.


    "Bad students like you, Takuya, don¡¯t just get bad grades¡ªthey get punished," Miss Park continued, her tone ice-cold. "Tomorrow, while the others are enjoying swim class, you¡¯ll stay in this classroom and write an essay about why your life will be a complete failure if you keep being the way you are. Do you understand?"


    "Yes," I whispered.


    "What was that? Speak louder. You sound like a mouse."


    The class erupted into laughter.


    Deep breath in.


    Deep breath out.


    Don¡¯t cry.


    That¡¯s exactly what they want.


    <hr>


    After school, I waited for Sin-Joo by the lockers in the hallway of Cheonghwa High School, the worst high school in the world, if you asked me. Sin-Joo was already five minutes late. The students from other classes flowed past me in an endless stream. It was the end of the day, and everyone wanted out. Nervously, I scanned the crowd, looking for my friend. We had plans. We had things to do.


    Suddenly, someone tapped me on the shoulder.


    "Sin-Joo, where were you? You¡¯re late," I said, turning around.


    But it wasn¡¯t Sin-Joo.


    My tormentors stood before me.


    Do-Hyun grabbed the back of my neck and told me to come with him. I shoved his hand away, refusing, but my defiance earned me a punch to the gut. Another guy kicked me in the thigh. Pain shot through my body as I grimaced.


    There were six of them. Six bullies dragging me toward the school bathrooms. I thought about screaming for help. But then, in that twisted moment, I convinced myself that the other students would think we were just a big group of friends messing around. Most of the kids from other classes didn¡¯t know I was the class punching bag. But if I screamed, everyone would know. And what difference would it make? If even the principal wouldn¡¯t defend me, who would?


    Before I could decide, it was already too late.


    Everything happened so fast.


    They shoved me into the boys¡¯ bathroom. The first thing I noticed (sharpened by fear) was the overwhelming stench.


    They forced me into a stall. And there it was. A toilet full of shit. It was so stuffed that I was sure every one of them had taken a turn, one after the other, until the bowl was half-full.


    "You know the saying, Birds of a feather flock together, don¡¯t you, Takuya? Well, you¡¯re a piece of shit, aren¡¯t you?" Do-Hyun smirked, pulling the hem of his sweater up over his nose to block the smell. He laughed through the fabric.


    What did this jerk want from me? He was tall, muscular, good-looking, and always got good grades. Wasn¡¯t that enough? Why did he have to make my life a living hell too?


    "It¡¯s simple," Ji-Won chimed in, grinning. "There¡¯s a toilet brush right there. Clean up the mess, and we¡¯ll let you leave without any trouble."


    Behind him, his pack of hyenas roared with laughter. That disgusting group. In that moment, I wondered: Were the monsters from the Abysses I wanted to fight really worse than these guys?


    Rage bubbled up inside me, and I started shaking uncontrollably.


    "Look at him! He¡¯s trembling! This loser¡¯s scared out of his mind!"


    I reached for the toilet brush. Even it was filthy, with bits of soggy toilet paper clinging to the bristles.


    "Happy birthday, Takuya. I hope you like our gift. My dump¡¯s the one on top, by the way," Min-Kyu said, laughing so hard he clutched at one of his buddies for support. That guy, just as pathetic, grinned awkwardly, like he was ashamed to be part of this but couldn¡¯t back out without risking his own position in the group.


    Where the hell was Sin-Joo? If he¡¯d shown up on time, none of this would be happening.


    Suddenly, someone smacked me on the back of the head.


    "Get to work!"


    With tears in my eyes, I pressed the toilet brush into the disgusting pile. The stench made me gag.


    Why me?


    Why me?


    Why me, goddammit?


    I could feel my lunch rising in my throat. I retched but swallowed it back down. I wasn¡¯t going to give them the satisfaction.


    "Man, that¡¯s gross. Glad I¡¯m not that loser."


    "It¡¯s his own fault."


    "We¡¯re just helping him prepare for his future career."


    "Ha! He totally deserves it."


    At some point, I bit down so hard I chipped my own tooth.


    I was furious.


    I slammed the toilet brush deeper into the disgusting mess, stomping and stabbing like I was trying to crush Do-Hyun¡¯s face beneath my feet. Min-Kyu¡¯s face. Ji-Won¡¯s. Those filthy pieces of shit. I kept imagining their faces as I bashed the brush into the mess, over and over. Then it wasn¡¯t just them¡ªit was the principal¡¯s face. And the face of the stunning Soo-Min, who always got along so well with my enemies.


    "That guy¡¯s crazy! Look at how hard he¡¯s scrubbing!"


    "Maybe we should dunk his head in next. His scraggly, greasy hair already looks like a mop, doesn¡¯t it?"


    "Yeah, the guy¡¯s practically a human washcloth," Do-Hyun sneered.


    That¡¯s when I snapped.


    I spun around, holding the toilet brush high above my head. The insanity in my eyes must¡¯ve been obvious, because Do-Hyun¡¯s cocky expression twisted into one of pure terror. That face.... the moment he realized he¡¯d made a mistake... I¡¯ll never forget it. He must¡¯ve thought he¡¯d taken a wrong turn into some nightmarish version of reality. His shocked expression was priceless.


    Then, without a word, I brought the brush down and swung it like a baseball bat, the shit-covered bristles smearing across his perfect, smug face.


    Dead silence.


    It took everyone a moment to process what had just happened.


    Then chaos erupted.


    They dragged me out of the stall and started beating me senseless. My head hit a soap dispenser, ripping it off the wall. Warm blood trickled down my face as I lay on the floor, watching shoes stomp on my body. On my face.


    My heart was racing.


    And through it all, I was grinning.


    I made myself a promise: No matter how much they hurt me, I was still going to that damn dungeon. I was going to become a Monster Hunter that people respected. No. A Monster Hunter that people feared.

 Chapter 3 - Why Is a Level 50 Paladin Babysitting Us Noobs?

    Your own family never truly understands when you choose to follow your own path. They only acknowledge it once you¡¯ve succeeded. Otherwise, all you hear is: I told you so. It was obvious that wouldn¡¯t work. Why didn¡¯t you listen to me?


    I loved Yumi more than anything, but that was the last thing I wanted to hear from her. Not that she¡¯d actually say it. She¡¯d just think it¡ªand stay silent. And somehow, that was even worse. Seeing the disappointment in her eyes...


    I had taken the tram close to the Everland theme park. The stop that would¡¯ve dropped me off right in front of it was shut down, blocked because of the dungeon. They always set up a quarantine zone, just in case the monsters decided to expand their territory. No one really knew why they were here or what their true purpose was. But most people believed it was the beginning of the end.


    I slung my backpack over my shoulder. It held some food, a flashlight, few bandages, and an old hunting knife. I had already used a fair amount of the bandages to wrap the gash on my forehead. I¡¯d tried washing the blood off my face in the school bathroom, but there was too much of it. I had just smeared it around, making it worse. My clothes were in no better condition: worn-out sneakers with my toes poking through the front, a pair of ripped jeans that were torn at the crotch, and a tattered shirt full of holes... all of it stained with my own blood.


    People on the tram had looked at me like I was filth. Like I was just some homeless guy from the slums. Not a Monster Hunter.


    But here, no one cared. The closer you got to a dungeon, the fewer people dared to wander the streets. The afternoon sun cut through the gaps between towering buildings, casting a golden light that made everything, concrete and asphalt alike, seem almost peaceful. But ahead, looming over the Everland Dungeon, darkness clung to the sky like a dome of pure malice.


    It had been five years since these strange anomalies started appearing across the world. The first one was discovered in the Arabian deserts in late 2025. God knows (or maybe the devil does) how long it had been sitting there before anyone found it. Then the reports kept coming. Abysses in Scandinavia, Greenland, Canada. Soon, they were everywhere. Shanghai, New York City, Toronto, Moscow, Seoul. Then rural areas. The jungle. The Amazon. Everywhere.


    And once that happened, humanity¡¯s downfall began.


    Monsters poured from the cracks, hideous, nightmarish creatures straight out of hell, driven by only two instincts: chaos and corruption.


    The world had been changing ever since.


    Everyday problems became irrelevant.


    Crime rates skyrocketed.


    Governments had to add Deaths by Monsters to their official crime statistics.


    At the same time, new jobs were born: Monster Hunters, Paladins, people who made a living by fighting back.


    My parents, like my grandmother, had always told me I should become a doctor. Or a teacher. Those jobs still existed. Universities were well-protected. Hospitals and clinics were busier than ever.


    But my path was different.


    More than ever, today had made that clear.


    I knew exactly what I was meant to be.


    And so, on my seventeenth birthday, against my parents¡¯ final wishes and against my grandmother¡¯s hopes, I chose to walk the path of a cheap, low-life Monster Hunter.


    Sin-Joo was waiting at the abandoned tram stop. Behind him, the massive theme park loomed. The entrance gates, the towering drop tower, the wooden roller coaster stretching above the darkened trees at the park¡¯s edge.


    I adjusted my crooked glasses. The left lens had cracked.


    "I¡¯m so sorry," Sin-Joo said, stepping toward me.


    Something about his voice made me pause.


    He wasn¡¯t even surprised by my black eye. Or the bloody bandage around my head. If it had been me in his place, the first thing I¡¯d have asked was, Dude, what the hell happened to you?!


    And it wasn¡¯t just that.


    There was something about the way he spoke... like he was apologizing for something much bigger than just missing our meeting.


    "Where were you?" I asked. "We were supposed to go over everything one last time before coming here together."


    "I know. My dad needed me at home. And¡­I forgot my gear."


    He patted the duffel bag slung over his shoulder.


    For the past week, ever since we got the confirmation that we¡¯d be allowed to join a dungeon raid, we had spent every single day preparing for this moment.


    And now he was telling me¡­ that he forgot his gear?


    I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that Sin-Joo had known what my tormentors were planning. That he had skipped our meeting because he was afraid. Afraid they¡¯d do to him what they had done to me.


    I told him it was no big deal, that stuff like that happened sometimes. Then we walked in silence down the empty street. Even the traffic lights in the quarantine zone were turned off.


    It didn¡¯t take long before we reached a military checkpoint, where a ROKA soldier stood guard. I pulled out my phone and opened the app to show him my permit.


    "You look like you¡¯ve already fought in a few dungeons today," he said after checking the online document.


    "Sure feels like it," I replied.


    "Yeah? Too bad you don¡¯t look like you won any of them."


    I didn¡¯t say anything. Just stayed silent.


    "The permit checks out, but you two kids aren¡¯t nineteen yet, are you? I¡¯m gonna need to see your IDs."


    We handed him the scanned parental consent forms. And that¡¯s when my heart started pounding.


    Because my parents were dead. Officially, at least. And Yumi would never have signed this.


    Sin-Joo and I had both forged our documents.


    "Alright, looks good," the soldier said, barely taking the time to verify them. "Now, I just need your signatures on the waiver. This confirms that neither your bodies nor any of your personal belongings will be recovered in the event of your death. Any valuables you carry into the dungeon will become the property of the state. Or of the demons lurking inside."


    Sin-Joo and I exchanged glances.


    At seventeen, death still felt so¡­ abstract. Even though, on some of my darker days, I had already wished for it. But this? Being legally reminded of the possibility... it made it real. It made it tangible.


    Of course, we signed anyway.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Alright, good luck in there. Not that you¡¯ll need much luck," the soldier said with a smirk.


    I frowned. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, I don¡¯t think anything¡¯s gonna happen to you today. See for yourself. Your team¡¯s already waiting. Oh, and by the way... thanks for doing your part to make this country safer."


    That sounded so damn good.


    Making the country safer.


    A thank you.


    And¡­ respect.


    For the first time in my life, I was acknowledged. By a ROKA soldier, of all people.


    As we headed toward our group, we were already dreaming about the future. About the riches we¡¯d earn. About starting our own guild. We imagined spending our days heroically slaying soul-eating demons, decapitating elite monsters, and selling their devil horns or fangs to merchants.


    We saw ourselves going head-to-head with the three major guilds that now controlled the world. They influenced global politics more than any government would ever admit.


    Soon, we¡¯d be hunting the creatures that built dungeons in the shadows of our cities, spreading corruption like a disease.


    And hopefully, we¡¯d never have to go to school again.


    There were too many monsters out there. Not enough hunters. So we would answer the call to adventure. Sin-Joo and I. Friends forever?


    Right in front of the Everland Dungeon, a modified pickup truck was parked. Massive off-road tires. A high-powered spotlight bar. A machine gun was mounted on the flatbed, and the truck¡¯s sides bore the winged insignia of the Elysian Wardens¡ªthe biggest, most influential guild in the world. The greatest Paladins to ever emerge from the Abysses.


    We stopped in our tracks, unable to believe what we were seeing.


    "Who the hell in our group is with the Elysian Wardens?" I asked.


    Sin-Joo looked just as stunned as I was.


    "Apparently¡­ that guy."


    I stepped to the side, and that¡¯s when I saw what had been hidden behind a massive pillar.


    My breath caught in my throat.


    My heart pounded like a war drum as my eyes landed on the Paladin.


    He stood out from the group like a radiant diamond among pebbles. Noble, powerful, terrifying.


    I knew him from TV. From the countless magazines I had collected. From the internet. From Dungeon Now.


    His name was Ryn Valen.


    Standing at an imposing 6''3", he loomed over me like a giant. Broad shoulders, powerful build. High cheekbones, a sharp jawline. The Nexus coursed through him. His skin was pale but flawless, as if the sheer power inside him shielded him from age, from imperfection.


    The Nexus. The mysterious magical force that granted Paladins their strength, their abilities.


    Years ago, Ryn had been the disciple of Velric Valgarem, a name that, over the past five years, had become almost legendary.


    Velric had been one of the first Paladins to stand against the horrors of the Abysses. With shoulder-length snow-white hair and a weathered face that radiated both hardness and wisdom, he looked like a knight destined from birth to fight for the light. Velric Valgarem had been among the elite who entered the first G-Dungeon, The Cursed Maw of the Dead, a hellish place that had never let a single soul return.


    But Velric and his team had returned. Not only had they survived, they had triumphed. They cleared the dungeon, and their victory became part of history. Reports of the final battle spoke of a boss so monstrous it could have wiped out armies. And yet, Velric had slain it. There was that one photo... his snow-white hair drenched in the blood of hell itself. It had become a symbol of humanity¡¯s unbreakable will. After that, he became an unshakable pillar of strength. A mentor. A teacher to the strongest Paladins, including Ryn Valen.


    But even legends aren¡¯t infallible, are they?


    Ryn never spoke of his former mentor in public.


    Yet, I had once seen him in a live interview, and when someone mentioned Velric¡¯s name¡­ something had flickered across his face. Just for a moment.


    A darkness.


    Like rage. Like pain.


    Like something shattered deep inside him.


    And now, here he was. Standing before us. Silent. Unwavering.


    But something in his expression sent a chill through me.


    "Have you ever seen something so beautiful?" Sin-Joo whispered.


    "You mean Ryn Valen?"


    "Yeah. He¡¯s breathtaking. Right?"


    "I¡¯ve never seen anything more stunning in my life," I admitted.


    When the monsters emerged, so did mysterious new powers... gifts from an unknown force, granted only to those who survived contact with the Abyss. A power that let them fight the creatures and venture into the depths.


    We called them Paladins.


    Only about one percent of those who came into contact with an Abyss survived. The rest died, horribly.


    Ryn Valen was among that one percent.


    And ever since, he had served the Elysian Wardens.


    His golden plate armor shimmered, forged by the best smiths of the Wardens and reinforced with power crystals harvested from high-rank dungeons.


    The seal of the Elysian Wardens glowed on his breastplate.


    Then, suddenly, Ryn Valen noticed us. He didn¡¯t walk toward us. He waited for us to come to him.


    And so, we did.


    I was trembling with excitement. My knees felt weak.


    There was no other way to put it... I felt pathetic in his presence.


    He radiated something beyond strength. Something beyond power. A presence. A knowledge. And we were stepping straight into it.


    "Sin-Joo and Takuya, huh?" His voice was deep, calm. "I¡¯m¡ª"


    "Ryn Valen," Sin-Joo blurted out.


    I had wanted to say the same thing. But I hadn¡¯t dared to interrupt the Paladin.


    "These two," he gestured toward the others, "are Dae-Won, our melee expert and tank, and his wife, Hye-Rin."


    "Pleasure to meet you," Dae-Won said, standing a little straighter in the presence of the Paladin. "Though, allow me to correct you: Hye-Rin will be my wife this summer, once we¡¯ve cleared enough dungeons to afford the wedding."


    I smiled at both of them, nodding.


    Dae-Won and Hye-Rin seemed grounded, bonded by love and a shared goal.


    I was happy for them.


    And for a moment, I envied them.


    I wished, deep down, that one day I could have something like that.


    To love someone.


    And to be loved in return.


    Compared to his partner, Dae-Won seemed a bit rough around the edges. As he soon told us, he worked as a nightclub bouncer in Seoul. He was built like a tank... thick arms sculpted by years of hard workouts. His brown eyes carried both warmth and an unshakable determination.


    Despite being the tank of our party, he wasn¡¯t wearing heavy armor. Just a worn-out bulletproof vest, patched up from previous battles. But still... unlike us total noobs (Sin-Joo and I), he had actually been inside dungeons before.


    "Hye-Rin will be our ranged specialist and field medic," Ryn Valen explained. "And judging by your condition, Takuya, she might be useful before the raid even starts."


    "That¡¯s what I was about to suggest," Hye-Rin said with a knowing smile.


    She was petite, barely 5''3", which even made me feel somewhat tall. Her dark brown hair was neatly tied into a high ponytail, practical and efficient. She wore a military uniform, and I figured that¡¯s where her background lay.


    If she was a soldier, it would explain why she was armed with a K5 handgun, if I wasn¡¯t mistaken.


    I sat cross-legged on the ground, letting her examine my injuries.


    "Oh wow, your bandages are soaked through," she muttered, frowning. "What did you even do to yourself? This needs stitches."


    "Or healing," Ryn Valen said, extending his right hand toward me.


    A glowing magic circle formed in front of his palm, intricate symbols twisting and rotating in both directions, their meanings a complete mystery to me.


    The light grew stronger.


    Then... I felt it.


    A warmth spreading across my forehead.


    Then heat.


    It was almost burning, but I didn¡¯t dare move.


    Something was happening to my skin. I could feel it shifting, closing.


    The magic circle vanished, and as the Paladin lowered his hand, I hesitantly reached up to touch my forehead. Where the wound had been, there was now only smooth skin. It itched slightly, a fresh scar forming.


    Unbelievable.


    The dull pain in my ribs, the ache in my legs... every bruise and wound from my earlier beating was gone.


    I felt lighter. Stronger. A strange euphoria surged through me, an exhilarating rush I had never felt before.


    Had the Paladin given me a buff?


    Or was I just feeling the way a kid does when their biggest idol signs an autograph?


    A famous Paladin had just healed me.


    Unreal.


    "Having a healer of his caliber in our party makes me feel completely useless," Hye-Rin joked, her soft voice laced with amusement. "I¡¯m just a simple ROKA field medic."


    "I think we all feel the same way, babe," Dae-Won chuckled, pressing a kiss to her hair.


    And for the first time, the tension lifted from all of us.


    After all, we had a Level 50 Paladin with us.


    And this was a dungeon of the easiest difficulty.


    The parties that had failed before us¡­ they didn¡¯t have this kind of luck.


    We, on the other hand, were guaranteed to clear it.


    Right?


    Yeah. We were all thinking the same thing.


    And it was comforting to know that.


    But it also brought back the question that had been nagging at me from the moment I first saw Ryn Valen.


    Why was someone like him... an elite Paladin... interested in such a low-level dungeon?


    He was massively overqualified.


    Then I thought about the four wiped parties before us.


    Maybe the South Korean government had misclassified the dungeon¡¯s difficulty?


    Maybe the guild had pulled some strings and gotten a special clearance, so that Ryn Valen could step in.


    But we weren¡¯t told anything about that.


    From our perspective, we were just a randomly assembled group who had signed up early enough and gotten lucky. Lucky enough to have a powerhouse leading us through the instance.


    We were safe, I thought.


    And somehow, Ryn Valen must have sensed the relief in our eyes.


    Or maybe he could read the emotions on our faces.


    Because all of a sudden, his expression darkened.


    His voice turned serious.


    "Do not underestimate the dangers of this A-Dungeon."


    "Now that we have you with us, we¡¯re basically useless," I said, forcing a smile.


    His gaze drifted toward the entrance of the corrupted theme park, where darkness swirled like a storm cloud, seeping from the gaping void beyond.


    And then... he said something that unsettled me.


    Something strange.


    Something I quickly forgot, because finally, it was time to go in.


    "I¡¯m certain that each of you will play an important role in this dungeon."

 Chapter 4 - Everland: I Heard the Goblins Coming

    We didn¡¯t walk through a portal, but it sure felt like stepping through a barrier of pure evil when we entered the Everland Dungeon. The presence of darkness was undeniable. This was where our ordinary world collided with a twisted realm where the laws of physics no longer held sway. All my life, I had believed that reality was just that: plain, ordinary, and completely devoid of magic. Spells, enchantments, supernatural forces? They belonged in childhood fantasies. Adults only believed in what they could see. That cold, hard truth had always felt suffocating. But now, the smartest minds in the world had been proven wrong.


    Inside a dungeon, anything was possible.


    This place was drenched in dark magic. And somewhere, deep within the final boss chamber, lurked the Abyss. The entire zone had been placed under quarantine ever since an Abyssal Horror corrupted the park, an interdimensional being known as Nihilith the Puppeteer. What had once been a place of joy had turned into its twisted reflection: sorrow. Where laughter once rang, only death remained. And not in some poetic sense... literally.


    Nobody had even made it to Nihilith. The thing had to be at full strength, feeding on the life force of the trapped park visitors, growing stronger by the day. Its dark threads had twisted the park¡¯s attractions into nightmarish horrors. Would today be the day it all ended? Or was I, Takuya Nakaruma, about to take my final breaths?


    The thought sent a chill crawling up my spine.


    Having a Paladin with us on my first-ever dungeon run... That was my saving grace. Our saving grace.


    It was winter, and the evening sun had begun to set behind the forest. Darkness crept in, but there was still enough daylight to see the park with our own eyes. A sharp wind howled across the abandoned plaza.


    Well¡­ not entirely abandoned.


    Right in front of us stood an old barrel organ, playing a warped, off-key version of carnival music. The handle spun on its own, as if moved by an invisible hand. And for once, calling it ghostly wasn¡¯t just a tired metaphor. Ever since the Abysses began appearing all over the world, creatures from the underworld (and worse) had started slipping into our realm. So, yeah, a ghost operating a creepy old music box? Not even that far-fetched.


    "Uh, Sin-Joo?" I said, glancing at my friend beside me.


    "What?"


    I pointed upward. A glowing cross had materialized above his head. Just... floating there.


    "Uh¡­ You¡¯ve got a cross above your head."


    Sin-Joo immediately patted his hair, waving his hands wildly over his head, but his fingers passed through the symbol as if it weren¡¯t even there.


    "That¡¯s an otherworldly mark," Ryn Valen muttered through clenched teeth. His jaw was so tight with tension it barely moved when he spoke.


    I pulled out my phone and opened the Dungeon Now app, scrolling through the Everland Dungeon entries. Nothing. No records of a player being marked with a symbol like this. Not from any of the four groups before us.


    So I logged a new entry:


    At the start of the dungeon, one player is marked with a symbol that does not resemble any known worldly sign. Meaning: unknown


    It wasn¡¯t much, but it was my small contribution to the monster hunter community.


    "Until we figure out what this means, we need to keep an eye on him," Ryn Valen said.


    Keep an eye on him. That didn¡¯t sound very friendly. That sounded like¡­ suspicion. Like we should distrust Sin-Joo. But he was one of us. No, he was my only friend.


    "It¡¯s fine," I said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "You okay? How do you feel?"


    "I don¡¯t feel anything." His voice was hollow. "Not a damn thing."


    Beyond the parking lot, we passed a deserted ticket booth, once used by the park staff. The small building was now rotting away, its metal shutters pulled down. In front of it, toppled stands lay scattered, plush toys still hanging from their racks¡ªexcept now, there was nothing cute about them. Even the stuffed animals seemed to radiate a dark aura. Shattered souvenirs littered the ground, and a long-abandoned cotton candy stand stood in eerie silence. I eyed the gingerbread hearts hanging from a rack. Instead of cheerful messages, their frosting spelled out: No one loves you. Rot in hell. Loneliness, Sickness, Death... the twisted counterpart to Live, Laugh, Love.


    "Do you hear that?" Ryn Valen suddenly asked.


    "You mean the creepy-ass music?"


    "No. A voice. A whisper."


    I let go of one of the corrupted gingerbread hearts, its hateful message still lingering in my mind, and strained my ears, trying to pick up anything human beyond the eerie organ music. The longer those sinister notes played, the more they pulled me into a vortex of madness. Maybe Ryn Valen was experiencing the same... maybe there was no voice at all.


    But then I heard it.


    A woman¡¯s voice. Coming from inside the ticket booth. A whimper. I ran without hesitation, gripping the handle and rattling it. Unlocked.


    "Are you insane?!" the Paladin snapped as I pulled my old hunting knife from my backpack. "We have no idea what¡¯s inside!"


    Too late.


    I pushed the door open...


    ...and red eyes flashed in the dark.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    A sharp chattering sound.


    A stench like rotting cheese.


    "WATCH OUT!" Ryn Valen shouted.


    A creature lunged from the shadows. The impact knocked the knife from my grasp. Clawed fingers tore at my clothes.


    A goblin.


    A goddamn goblin.


    I hit the ground hard, my scream caught in my throat as the creature pinned me down. It was small but fast, a writhing, shrieking thing with jagged teeth and a long, slobbering tongue lolling from its maw. Goblins didn¡¯t just attack their prey... they butchered them, clawing through flesh and ripping out guts while their victims were still alive.


    I didn¡¯t feel pain. Only raw, primal terror.


    The goblin¡¯s claws had already buried themselves in my shoulder.


    And then, with a single swipe, it slashed across my face.


    I screamed.


    Everything happened in a blur.


    Half my face is sliced apart.


    God, I don''t wanna die!


    Was my prayer heard?


    Because, in the next instant, the goblin¡¯s head was gone.


    One clean swing.


    Ryn Valen stood over me, sword in hand, his stance unwavering.


    I didn¡¯t even have time to thank him. As I shoved the goblin¡¯s lifeless body off me (its bristly fur cutting into my fingers) Ryn was already fending off three more creatures pouring out of the ticket booth.


    One leaped at him.


    He deflected it with his shield. The moment it hit the ground, he drove his sword through its gut, skewering it so deep the blade sank into the asphalt beneath. With a single pull, he wrenched it free. Then, in one fluid motion, cleaved the next goblin clean in half.


    To him, it wasn¡¯t even a challenge.


    The last goblin crashed down beside me, shrieking in agony. Dark blood gushed from the gaping wound in its side, a single, merciless strike had gutted it. Its soulless eyes locked onto mine, its twisted face frozen in a final, hateful glare. Then the fire in its soulless eyes faded.


    My heart pounded, my pulse roaring in my ears. Warm blood streamed down my skin, soaking into my already blood-drenched hoodie. And that was when the pain hit.


    "You reckless idiot," Ryn Valen muttered, stepping past me, hand outstretched, healing me with a flicker of golden light.


    I barely felt the warmth of his magic.


    "At least try to survive until the final boss."


    Without another word, he entered the booth, likely checking for more threats.


    I dug into my backpack for my flashlight and followed. The others remained outside, standing guard.


    Inside, the place was a disaster. Drawers had been torn from their cabinets. Scattered papers littered the floor. But no body.


    Then... we heard it again.


    The weak, trembling whimper.


    My flashlight trembled in my grip as I swept the beam across the room.


    And then I saw her.


    Huddled in the farthest corner.


    I stopped breathing.


    The blonde woman who, just a week ago, had been welcoming guests with a smile. Back when her world was still intact. Now, she was nothing more than a broken wreck. She sat crumpled on the floor, barely conscious. The goblins had torn her panties down to her knees, the fabric stretched tight between her parted thighs. White knee-high socks clung to her trembling legs. Her blouse... shredded. Buttons scattered across the floor. Even her bra straps had been ripped down. A loose strand of pale blonde hair fell across her face, her exposed skin ghostly pale in the dim light.


    What had those monsters done to her?


    Had we arrived in time, before¡­


    I couldn¡¯t even finish the thought.


    Cold sweat ran down my back as my gaze flickered between her ruined clothes and her bruised, battered face. That weak, pitiful whimper.


    It wasn¡¯t just the cruelty.


    Not just the helplessness.


    It was the painful, gut-wrenching understanding of how utterly vulnerable she was. A fragile, broken beauty, defiled by monstrous hands.


    I clenched my teeth, shoved past Ryn Valen, and shrugged off my jacket as I stepped forward.


    The air reeked of fear and blood.


    Carefully, I knelt beside her, hesitating before draping the fabric gently over her trembling body.


    She didn¡¯t react. Her vacant blue eyes stared into nothingness, unseeing, uncomprehending.


    "It¡¯s okay," I murmured, forcing a small, hollow smile. "You¡¯re safe now."


    But that was a lie.


    She wasn¡¯t safe.


    And I knew it.


    I gently shook her shoulder, searching for any kind of response. But all she did was let out a faint whimper, curling further into herself. It was like her body was just a shell, the light in her eyes extinguished by the horrors she had endured. Maybe I had no right to touch her. But still, I carefully pulled her underwear back into place, averting my gaze. The way she had been lying before... so exposed, so wrong... it had stripped her of what little dignity she had left.


    That¡¯s when I noticed, there was no blood on her thighs.


    A wave of relief washed over me.


    Maybe we had made it in time.


    In time? I clenched my jaw. Look at her, you idiot. She¡¯s broken.


    The Paladin stood at the far end of the room, scanning the area with sharp, calculating eyes. The crystal-adorned hilt of his sword rested in his hand, its tip barely touching the ground. Every muscle in his body was taut, ready to strike down anything lurking in the shadows.


    There was no empathy on his face.


    Only calculation.


    "We need to get her out of here," I said, my voice unsteady.


    "Forget it," he said coldly. "Goblins never travel alone. These three were just the beginning."


    My throat went dry. "What does that mean?"


    "They¡¯re out there." His voice was calm, but each word hit like a hammer. "I can feel them. In the trees. Watching. Waiting. If we don¡¯t move now, you die. My mission is to get you to the final boss. Nothing more, nothing less."


    I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. "She¡¯s helpless! We can¡¯t just leave her!"


    Ryn¡¯s icy gaze locked onto mine. "This isn¡¯t a game. There¡¯s no room for feelings here. Once we clear the dungeon, the military will come to retrieve the survivors. Until then..." He pointed at the woman on the ground. "Her only job is to survive."


    And with that, he turned and walked out.


    Sword ready.


    Steps firm.


    Unshaken.


    I wanted to shout at him. Wanted to fight him. But the words died in my throat. I looked down at the woman curled before me. My hands clenched into fists. A crushing helplessness burned in my chest. Outside, the eerie organ music was being swallowed by the sickening, chittering sounds of goblins. I thought I could already see them, their glowing, demonic eyes glinting in the distant dark.


    They wouldn¡¯t attack him.


    But they¡¯d rip me apart.


    I was alone with her now.


    What was I supposed to do?


    Ryn Valen signaled the others to follow, and without hesitation, they moved out. And just like that, they left me behind.


    This was the Paladin that people praised in the news? The one idolized by thousands of monster hunters?


    Was this dungeon changing him?


    Or was this the first time he was showing his true face?


    But more than that...


    ...What the hell am I supposed to do?


    The checkpoint where Sin-Joo and I had shown our papers earlier was half a mile away. I was too weak. Carrying her there would take too long. And the goblins...


    They were coming.


    I could feel them now, too.


    Then I saw them.


    Darting through the darkness, slipping from an abandoned restaurant to the shattered remains of the wild animal enclosure.


    They were closing in fast.


    And if Ryn Valen kept moving away, they¡¯d turn on me.


    I had to make a decision.


    Now.


    I took a deep breath.


    There was no question. If I tried to carry her to the entrance, we¡¯d both die. And she...


    "I¡¯m sorry," I whispered, standing up.


    But I didn¡¯t leave just yet.


    I tore through the room, ripping drawers open, sending papers flying. There. A small metal box mounted on the wall. I wrenched it open. Inside¡ªthe keys.


    That was all I could do for her.


    "We¡¯ll clear this dungeon in time, I promise. Just hold on... I¡¯ll come back for you" I closed the door behind me and locked it, praying the goblins wouldn¡¯t find her. Then I grabbed my knife and stepped out into the night, leaving my jacket behind. A weak, meaningless token of comfort she might never even feel.


    Nihilith had twisted this place beyond recognition.


    A park meant for joy and laughter, now a nightmare, rotting in the grip of something far worse than death.

 Chapter 5 - Everland: Sin-Joo is Emo Now

    "Damn it. We just left that woman behind."


    Sin-Joo didn¡¯t seem to care at all. He simply said, "Then she¡¯ll die there. So what? We¡¯re all doomed to die anyway. Do you really think we¡¯ll make it out of this?"


    "What the hell is wrong with you?"


    "The Abysses¡­ Why do you think they exist, Takuya? I feel so empty. Why do I feel like this? Ever since I got here, everything has become clear to me. We¡¯re lost. This is the beginning of the end. We are living through the apocalypse. No one will escape."


    This new, depressing side of my friend was seriously messing with me. It had to be that mark above his head, making him completely pessimistic. That cursed sigil had snuffed out his will to fight.


    I turned my burning gaze to Ryn Valen. A Paladin¡­ One could only become one after surviving a descent into an Abyss. But even touching one of those rifts in space-time had a fatality rate of around 99 percent according to Dungeon Now¡¯s statistics. Most people died instantly upon contact. And an even tinier fraction of that one percent ever returned from the Abyss at all. Those chosen by fate often came back¡­ changed. Almost none of them spoke about their experience. The Elysian Wardens were outright forbidden from discussing it. Some returned with magical abilities, but... at the cost of their sanity. There were cases of fallen Paladins going berserk, causing devastation so extreme that entire armies were needed to bring them down.


    In short: surviving the Abyss was nearly impossible. That made a Paladin¡¯s status all the more legendary. The rarer they were, the higher their demand.


    Which brought me to my question. "What is a powerful Paladin like you doing here? This is just an A-Dungeon."


    The Paladin didn¡¯t even glance at me. He kept walking. No response.


    "What are you really doing here?" I pressed.


    With every step he took, his armor let out a soft metallic rattle.


    "What I¡¯m really doing?" Ryn Valen suddenly let out a sharp, almost theatrical laugh. He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. "I¡¯m fulfilling my quest. What else did you think I was here for?"


    I stared into the distance, my mind racing. A dungeon quest? Or did he mean something else?


    Sin-Joo must have read the question on my face, because he stepped beside me and pulled up his Nexus-Link¡ªa device every monster hunter owned. Except me. It was way too expensive. It looked like a smartwatch with a built-in holo-projector, capable of scanning the Nexus¡¯ magical energy, connecting to the Dungeon Now data network, and serving as an organizer for monster hunters.


    Sin-Joo opened the quest log and shared the quest with me. A notification popped up on my Dungeon Now account. I opened the app on my phone and saw a message from Sin-Joo in my inbox.


    It was the shared quest:


    <hr>


    Monster Hunters, the Elysian Wardens need you!


    The Everland amusement park has turned into a living nightmare. A dark force has taken root there, twisting it into a hellish dimension. A squad from our guild was dispatched to investigate the threat, but we lost all contact with them.


    We fear the worst. Your mission is to uncover what happened to our squad.


    (If they¡¯re dead, collect their guild badges and bring them back to us so their families can find peace. Also, the badges are made of gold... just saying.)


    But that¡¯s not all. At the heart of the corruption lurks a horror known as Nihilith the Puppeteer. This demonic puppet master is said to be the source of the darkness. He controls the amusement park staff trapped in the dungeon like living puppets, drawing immense power from their suffering. Eliminate Nihilith and stabilize the dimensional rift using the Gorex? Stabilizer 3000X (included in the quest kit).


    This isn¡¯t exactly a walk in the park... but still, it¡¯s just an A-Dungeon. Even noobs probably won¡¯t die... probably.


    <h4> </h4>


    <h4>Quest Objectives:</h4>


    <ol>


    <li>


    Find the missing Elysian Warden squad:


    <ul>


    <li>Investigate the fate of the missing members</li>


    <li>Collect their guild badges (0/5)</li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    <li>


    Defeat Nihilith the Puppeteer (0/1)


    </li>


    <li>


    Stabilize the dimensional rift using the Gorex? Stabilizer 3000X (0/1)


    </li>


    </ol>


    <h4> </h4>


    <h4>Rewards:</h4>


    2,000 K-Coins


    Qualification for Follow-Up Quest: The Ascent to the Elysian Wardens


    [Runeblade of the Aspirant]


    Description: "It cuts through foes. Well, at least the weakest ones."


    Effects:


    +2 Attack Power


    +1% Attack Speed


    Deals bonus damage to enemies below 20% HP (because even newbies know to finish off the low-health target first)


    Type: one-handed dagger, Item Level: 5 (rare)


    Binds on pickup


    <hr>


    Okay, got it. We¡¯re noobs. I sighed. But this was the chance. For five years, it had been my dream to fight as a monster hunter for the Elysian Wardens. This was my ticket in. I accepted the quest and glanced between Sin-Joo and the Paladin. Was that why he was here? To find his guild¡¯s missing squad? On his shoulder, next to the massive monster-hunting sword, hung a glowing device that looked like an influencer¡¯s tripod. That had to be the Gorex Stabilizer, I figured.


    "Hey, Takuya?"


    Hye-Rin placed her warm hand on my shoulder, looking at me from the side. Her jet-black hair shimmered silver under the rising moonlight, and her dark, almond-shaped eyes were mesmerizing.


    "We¡¯re risking our damn lives for a lousy 2,000 Kay C¡¯s. Why don¡¯t we just keep the guild badges and melt the gold down ourselves? That¡¯d easily triple our payout."


    She was joking, obviously trying to lighten the mood, so I played along.


    "I like the way you think," I said. "Problem is, Ryn heard us. And if he rats us out to his guild, we¡¯re screwed."


    But Ryn didn¡¯t look like he was paying any attention to our conversation. In fact, he seemed completely uninterested in engaging with us at all.


    "Shut your damn mouths," he said, listening to the sounds of the night.


    We were following a winding path that once led through a lush, zoo-like safari filled with dangerous predators, all safely observed from armored vehicles. Now, the same path led us into a dark and eerie forest (without the protection of a reinforced safari truck). This part of the park had become completely overgrown and wild, abandoned to nature.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    I knew exactly why I enjoyed these stupid conversations so much, I thought. Because the moment you started listening to the silence, everything around you became unnerving. The snapping of twigs. The rustling in the undergrowth behind you. It made you instantly paranoid.


    Somewhere in the branches above, an owl hooted. Its eerie calls echoed through the trees, singing a lonely, mournful tune.


    But the worst part? The wooden roller coaster in the distance.


    A single cart still rode along the track. And every time it neared, you could hear ghostly laughter drifting through the ice-cold night. Was Nihilith riding that coaster, having the time of his life?


    The distant laughter faded into the silence. But it wouldn¡¯t stay gone for long.


    Suddenly, the owl stopped hooting.Not gradually, not like a natural pause, but abruptly, like a breath cut short.


    Everything was quiet.


    Too quiet.


    I halted, looking around. The rest of the group had also stopped. It was as if we had all been struck by the same unshakable feeling... that we were no longer alone.


    Then it came again. A crack. Closer this time. Much closer.


    The sound seemed to come from everywhere at once, like an unseen hunter moving silently through the darkness. I snapped my head left, then right, but the thick underbrush revealed nothing.


    "Did you hear that?" I whispered, barely more than a breath.


    But before anyone could answer, something huge burst from the undergrowth.


    The beast stood right in front of us, baring its fangs and growling.


    That isn¡¯t a wolf, it''s a¡­


    "Hellhounds," Sin-Joo muttered. "Low-tier demon mobs. Standard in A- and B-rank dungeons. Not exactly hard, but lethal enough if you suck. Like us."


    I turned to Sin-Joo for a second. Did he seriously not feel even a little afraid of that thing? Because I was freaking out over here, and all he did was point at it with the enthusiasm of a guy ordering a pizza.


    "Roughly 350 HP each. Two attacks. First one¡¯s Savage Bite: deals moderate physical damage but applies a stacking Bleed. Second¡¯s Howl of the Hunt, buffs their attack power and aggro-links every Hellhound in range, which, by the way, is unlimited. Meaning if there¡¯s a hundred of them, they¡¯re all coming for us now."


    I swallowed hard. "Okay, but¡­ if they¡¯re just standard mobs, we can take them, right?"


    Sin-Joo just stared at me, eyes hollow, voice completely void of hope. "Takuya. We have old, rusty knives. Do you know what you don¡¯t bring to a pack mob fight? Knives. It¡¯s like showing up to a gunfight with a wet sock."


    I clenched my teeth and locked eyes with the beast. It was massive. Muscles rippled beneath its dark, smoke-like fur. Rusted iron chains clanked against its broad chest, the heavy collar around its neck etched with strange, ancient runes. Oh, and minor detail... I almost forgot.


    THREE. FUCKING. HEADS.


    Not just one. Three. All wreathed in shifting black mist, snapping and growling like they were in a permanent argument with each other. Their jagged teeth gleamed like razors. And those burning crimson eyes... they weren¡¯t just watching us. They were hungry.


    A deep, eerie howl pierced the air, his second attack, Howl of the Hunt. And suddenly, like a haunting chorus, the same menacing sound echoed from all directions.


    We were surrounded.


    "Run!"


    Of all people, it was Ryn Valen who shouted.


    But before I could take a single step, searing pain tore through my shoulder.


    With a heavy thud, I was yanked to the ground.


    A second time in this damn dungeon.


    I¡¯m such a noob.


    Of course, I was going to die here.


    That was the last thought that crossed my mind right before I felt the beast¡¯s rancid breath hot against my throat. Desperate, I rammed the handle of my knife into its snout with every ounce of strength I had left.


    It stunned one of its three heads for barely a second,but the other two were still lunging, snapping at me, fighting over which one would get the first bite.


    Then, a forest of fangs came crashing toward me.


    I seized the hellhound by its rusted iron collar, gripping it tight as I shoved it back with everything I had. But it was a three-headed beast...! While I held one head at bay, the other two snapped and lunged, jaws stretching wide to tear into me. The sheer will of the demon, its relentless hunger to rip me apart, was overwhelming.


    I was losing. My arms trembled, my strength fading fast. This thing... it was stronger than I could have ever imagined.


    It was going to kill me. Any second now.


    Then, a deafening gunshot shattered the night. Muzzle fire flared in the darkness. Hye-Rin stood firm, feet planted, gripping her service pistol with both hands. Another shot rang out, and the bullet struck the hellhound in the side.


    A spray of caustic blood splattered onto my arm, burning straight through my sleeve and searing my skin.


    The creature howled in agony and leapt off me, but it was far from finished.


    "Watch out!"


    Dae-Won¡¯s voice boomed through the chaos just as another beast lunged from the shadows. With a brutal crash, Dae-Won slammed his shield down on the beast, sending it howling to the ground. Then Sin-Joo (our usually quiet companion) let out a raw, furious scream. The mark above his head blazed, reflecting his rising rage. He charged, knife in hand, and stabbed the beast over and over in the chest, each strike driving deeper than the last. The monster spasmed violently in a pool of its own dark demonic blood. The thick, corrupted liquid splattered in all directions, scorching Sin-Joo¡¯s arms, chest, even his face.


    But he didn¡¯t seem to notice.


    What the hell was wrong with him?


    I hated to admit it, but deep down, I felt something ugly stirring inside me. Rage. I was angry. Angry that Sin-Joo was stronger than me. Braver than me.


    Three hellhounds already lay dead, their bodies dissolving into ash on the wind. But it wasn¡¯t over. Not even close. More of them emerged from the shadows of the forest.


    Ten... twelve... maybe even fifteen.


    They encircled us, glowing red eyes flickering like embers in the darkness. The hellhound Hye-Rin had shot was back on its feet. The shadowy demonic aura had healed its wounds. It was ready to fight again. And before I could react, its hungry eyes locked onto me again, muscles coiling like a drawn bow, ready to strike.


    A blinding light erupted through the darkness like a bolt of lightning.


    The hellhound, mid-lunge, froze in the air for a split second. An instant later, it was cleaved clean in half. Its clawed limbs hit the ground first. Then, for a brief moment, its head and torso hovered motionless in the air before dissolving into a cloud of demonic ash. And it wasn¡¯t just that one hellhound.


    Everywhere around us, the same thing was happening. A wave of radiant, holy light burned through the battlefield, eradicating everything demonic in its path. And at the center of this hellish spectacle, he appeared.


    Ryn Valen.


    The holy Paladin.


    His oversized sword still glowed with the divine energy of his last attack. He stood tall, his silhouette outlined by a soft, golden aura, giving him an almost otherworldly presence. With one smooth motion, he spun his sword, letting it whirl through the air before locking it back into place on his back with a satisfying click.


    "Holy Retribution," Sin-Joo muttered. But instead of awe, his voice was flat. Completely deadpan. I glanced at him. He looked like a hardcore gamer who had been leading his raid team for the past 36 hours straight, running on nothing but instant ramen, energy drinks, and sheer determination, trying to secure a server-first clear on a high-end raid, only to get wiped at 1% boss HP because some AFK healer stood in the AoE like it was a damn buff zone. He had the defeated expression of a man questioning all his life choices. "Forty-five percent of his total mana pool, one-minute cooldown, probably reduced to forty seconds with some OP Pala perk. Range is, what, thirty meters? Damage multiplier¡¯s gotta be cracked. And, oh wow, look, the effect duration is ten seconds, which means he¡¯s running an enhanced ability rune. Who could have possibly seen that coming?"


    I blinked at him, still shaking as I forced myself to my feet. An AoE holy attack, wiping out all enemies in one move. I could barely process what I had just witnessed. "Well¡­ isn¡¯t that kind of amazing?"


    Sin-Joo groaned. "Sure, whatever. Wow. So cool. Who cares? Not like I¡¯m ever gonna be a Paladin anyway. I mean, just look at me." He gestured at himself in slow motion, as if presenting the sheer tragedy of his existence. "I¡¯ve got a doom sigil over my head, I¡¯m as good as dead, and I swear to God, I can physically feel my stamina draining out of me. I¡¯m tired. Just kill me already."


    "Sin-Joo, don¡¯t say that." I placed a hand on his shoulder, but he turned away.


    Despite his relentless self-pity, I noticed something. Even through all the grumbling, even through the soul-crushing, debuff-fueled despair¡­ Sin-Joo was still analyzing every little detail of the spell. Because deep down, even if he couldn¡¯t admit it, he still cared. Deep down, he was still the geek who dreamed of one day becoming a Paladin.


    Fuck. We had survived the mob wave, but it was obvious that something was seriously wrong with Sin-Joo. We had ignored the symbol above his head for too long. It was eating away at him, little by little. Like real depression, only in fast-forward.


    A dark realization crept over me. If we didn¡¯t do something, he would suffer the same fate as anyone with severe depression who never got therapy, medication, or treatment. And in that moment, it became clear: I hadn¡¯t just been given a quest by the Elysian Wardens. There was a second quest now.


    I had to find a way to save my friend.

 Chapter 6 - Everland: Mana Issues? Bro, You鈥檙e a Paladin

    Ash swirled through the air like fine dust, shimmering under the moonlight as the hellhounds were banished from this world forever. That Paladin¡­ he was like a storm. Unstoppable. Unbreakable.


    I wished I had even a fraction of his strength.


    I stared at him, my eyelids seemingly forgetting how to blink. It was insane how much power Ryn Valen had gained since joining the Elysian Wardens. He moved like the wind, struck fast and mercilessly like a mantis, and was strong beyond human limits. I hated to admit it, but I would¡¯ve bet my entire reward that I couldn''t even lift the epic Sword of Justice strapped to his back.


    Yet, he seemed to have nothing but contempt for me.


    "What¡¯s wrong with you, Takuya?" he said, his words cutting like a dagger straight to my heart. "Seriously, you¡¯re getting wrecked by a trash mob? Even your scrawny little friend put up more of a fight than you. He actually took one of those beasts down."


    I fumbled nervously with my taped-up, broken glasses. One more cruel word from him, and I¡¯d probably start tearing up. I was already a nobody in high school. This was supposed to be my dream... my life as a Monster Hunter. But reality was catching up fast. Turns out, I wasn¡¯t just the biggest loser in high school, I was also the biggest loser in this dungeon.


    "We¡¯re here to kill Nihilith, the final boss. I need to be able to rely on every single one of you."


    "You can rely on me," I finally said, brushing the dirt off my shoulder. Maybe it was my way of shaking off the frustration. But the feeling of failure clung to me like a curse, and I was already itching for the next monster attack, desperate for a chance to prove myself.


    The rest of the squad seemed fine, but Ryn Valen still ordered a quick status check.


    "All good here," Hye-Rin said.


    "Just a few scratches," Dae-Won added. "Not worth wasting mana on."


    "Yeah, that¡¯s an important factor," Ryn Valen said. "This dungeon has a debuff on me. My mana regen''s completely blocked. I lost a lot with that AoE cast, and on top of that, I keep having to heal you two from your injuries. Honestly, I didn¡¯t even think I¡¯d need a potion. But this¡­ this is my only one. And I¡¯ll need it before the first boss fight. You¡¯d better watch yourselves."


    With that, he uncorked a round, heavy bottle, the shimmering blue liquid inside swaying like captured moonlight. I should¡¯ve felt bad. Guilty, even. But instead, his words made me pause.


    A Holy Pala¡­ running out of mana?


    That was... straight-up suspicious. If there was one thing Ryn Valen shouldn¡¯t have, it was mana problems.


    I adjusted my glasses and cleared my throat. "Holy Paladins have built-in mana sustain," I blurted out. "Like, several ways to get mana back. Sanctified Will restores a chunk of mana every time you take direct damage. Divine Flow converts overhealing into mana regen. And if you¡¯re really desperate, Sacred Vow lets you trade HP for mana. You¡¯re telling us none of those are working?"


    Fuck. My brain was screaming at me to not argue with a level 50 Paladin who could probably one-shot me if he wanted to. But my inner nerd just wouldn¡¯t shut up.


    Ryn¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. Not immediately. But for the briefest moment, I swore I saw something flicker in his eyes. And for the first time, I wondered if Ryn Valen wasn¡¯t just hiding something... but lying.


    We kept walking in silence. Every now and then, the undergrowth around us grew so thick we had to crouch to push through. The forest air was damp and earthy, but something foul lurked beneath it. The stench of death and decay. Or maybe it wasn¡¯t a smell at all. Maybe it was the presence of Nihilith itself, seeping into the atmosphere like a dark fog, pressing against our very souls.


    Then someone struck my shoulder.


    I nearly jumped out of my skin. PTSD kicking in from years of bullying. My whole body locked up in sheer terror, bracing for a beating¡­ or for demons to tear me apart. My heart pounded.


    But it was just Hye-Rin. She had caught up to me, winking as she held out a small vial filled with a green, shimmering liquid.


    "Drink this, or you¡¯ll pass out before the boss fight even starts."


    It kind of looked like poison. Thanks to my daily dose of school-induced paranoia, I always expected the worst from people. Gifts? Yeah, not so much.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    "Go on, take it." She chuckled. "It¡¯s just a little strength buff. Maybe it''ll help you stop looking so scared."


    I hesitated before taking the vial from her hand. The cork popped off with a soft plop!, and I downed the entire thing in one gulp.


    It tasted like¡­ lightning?


    A rush of warmth spread through my muscles. My posture straightened almost instantly, like my weak, noodle-like limbs had just been upgraded with reinforced steel.


    "Wow, thanks. For a Monster Hunter, you¡¯re surprisingly caring, Hye-Rin. You¡¯d probably make a great mom."


    Wait.


    Did I just say that out loud?


    Instant regret. Embarrassment hit me like a critical strike. Had I just insulted her? Undermined her authority? What was I even thinking?!


    God, whenever I talked to women, my brain short-circuited. And the more I thought about it, the worse it got. Overthinking was my ultimate debuff. But Hye-Rin just chuckled, tapping the holster of her K5 pistol.


    "A mom? Not yet. Think of me more like the annoying big sister you never wanted, but who still has your back."


    A big sister. Someone who looked out for me. Because she¡­ cared?


    "Oh¡­ uh¡­ thanks." That was all I could manage.


    A short pause settled between us, like always. I sucked at this. At life. At dungeons. And at talking to girls. Hye-Rin¡¯s expression grew serious. She glanced at the others before turning back to me.


    "But seriously¡­ you¡¯ve got that look on your face. The whole Why am I such a damn noob? thing."


    "Oh¡­ yeah¡­ can you blame me?"


    "Actually, I can." She sighed. "Back at the start of the dungeon... did you even notice? You were the only one who ran to help the lady at the ticket booth without hesitation. The only one of us who actually cared."


    "You¡­ saw that?"


    Hye-Rin met my eyes, holding my gaze. "Maybe you¡¯re weak. Maybe you¡¯re scared. But you¡¯ve got a good heart. And that¡¯s exactly what people need if we want to stand a chance at stopping the end of the world. Your weakness? You can train that away. Your fear? That fades with experience. Let me tell you something: I used to be just like you."


    My eyes widened. Just like me?


    "I can¡¯t imagine you were ever as much of a noob as I am."


    Hye-Rin tilted her head back, gazing at the dark, demon-lit sky flickering above the dungeon. "I was worse," she said. "My first mission with ROKA? I nearly pissed myself. My sergeant called me Panic-Rin for a whole damn week because I freaked out at every single noise."


    I let out a surprised laugh. "No way. Seriously?"


    Hye-Rin grinned, but then her expression turned thoughtful. "But eventually¡­ it gets easier. Not because it becomes less dangerous, but because you learn to deal with it. You become yourself, no matter how much shit gets thrown your way. And once you do that? You¡¯re already ahead of most people out there."


    She clapped me on the shoulder.


    This time, I didn¡¯t flinch. Was it the strength buff? Or her words?


    I took a deep breath, gathering all my courage to ask something for once instead of just reacting. "Hye-Rin¡­ how much more do you guys need before you have enough for the wedding?"


    She walked beside me in silence for a while. Then she said, "This is going to be our last dungeon."


    I frowned. "Your last?"


    "Dae-Won and I¡­ we¡¯re almost there. Just one final raid. One last run. And then?" She gave me a small smile. "Then we leave this life behind."


    "Really? But you guys are so good. Sin-Joo and I are obviously the noobs here, but you two? You¡¯ve got it all figured out."


    "We¡¯ve been raiding dungeons for over two years now. A-rank, B-rank¡ªyou name it, we¡¯ve done it. It¡¯s been a wild ride, thrilling and intense. But Dae-Won and I¡­ we¡¯re getting older. We¡¯re already in our early thirties. Our priorities are shifting. Other things are becoming more important. And we¡¯ve realized something¡­"


    She glanced at me, her expression more serious than ever.


    "Dungeons won¡¯t give us a future. They¡¯re a ticket to an early grave. Or worse. It¡¯s gambling, Takuya. Except instead of money, you¡¯re betting your life. We want out before it¡¯s too late."


    I hadn¡¯t expected that. For me, they were the ultimate warrior couple. The kind of people who had combat and adventure in their veins. The idea of them leaving this life behind felt¡­ strange.


    "You guys just¡­ want a peaceful life?"


    Hye-Rin suddenly giggled. "As peaceful as life can be with a mini Dae-Won running around." She tapped her flat stomach with a grin. "We¡¯re planning for a baby."


    I blinked. "Oh, wow. I¡­ uh, congrats?"


    She laughed, and in her eyes, I saw something. A spark. A dream. A future she was looking forward to.


    "Not yet," she said softly. "But soon. Hopefully. Dae-Won and I made a promise to each other: We won¡¯t end up like the others. The ones who get trapped in this endless cycle of fighting and dying. At some point¡­ you have to know when to walk away. And for us, this is it. Our last run. After this, we¡¯ll have everything we need. And we¡¯re not going to push our luck any further."


    She placed a hand on my shoulder, gentle this time, almost protective. "Good luck, Nooby. With whatever it is you¡¯re chasing."


    I pressed my lips together, could feel my eyes stinging again but not because someone was being cruel to me this time. No. It was because, for the first time outside my tiny bubble of a home, someone was actually being kind to me. And I had no idea what I¡¯d done to deserve it.


    Hye-Rin picked up her pace, walking over to Dae-Won, who had been waiting for her. He took her hand, giving it a small squeeze. And while they weren¡¯t looking, I turned my attention to Ryn Valen. I couldn¡¯t help but wonder: He could¡¯ve cleared this dungeon solo. No question. So why was he here? Why did he need us, when he was on an entirely different level?


    Ryn Valen belonged somewhere else. Somewhere deeper. He should¡¯ve been exploring the Abyss, fighting alongside other Paladins in a G-rank dungeon, taking on the strongest elite monsters of this world and beyond.


    The answer hit me like a brick wall.


    I froze mid-step.


    Was this Ryn¡¯s goal all along?


    Was he here¡­ to enter a new Abyss?


    Something was off about him. I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he was keeping something from us, something important.


    And as much as I admired him¡­


    The truth was, he was starting to scare me.