Episode 4
Whoosh.
"Chubby, what's your name?"
"J-Jung Hyun-chul. People usually call me Bigbo."
"Bigbo?"
"It's Big (from 'big') plus Bo (from 'glutton'), making Bigbo."
"Ha, your nickname matches your looks. I'm Shin Ja-geon. Just call me Boss. From now on, you're my lackey."
Bigbo stood bewildered.
Ja-geon's attitude differed entirely from ordinary Raiders.
'First of all, who wears jeans and a T-shirt to solo a dungeon? That's suspicious from the start.'
Bigbo couldn't muster the courage to ask.
Within ten minutes of meeting him, he'd learned Ja-geon's temperament—the type who threw fists first at the slightest irritation.
'But Shin... Ja-geon?'
The name rang familiar.
Shin Ja-geon—a name he'd heard repeatedly somewhere before.
Clad in tattered underwear, Bigbo wobbled after Ja-geon.
He had no idea who this man was.
'But if I don't follow him, I'm dead for sure.'
●
Jung Hyun-chul, aka Bigbo, had never achieved anything in life.
Never tasted accomplishment.
He merely mimicked others' paths—parents said "live meekly," teachers preached "kindness equals success."
Thus he graduated college and entered society.
Society proved harsher than imagined.
Bigbo was, charitably put, naive; cruelly put, a doormat.
Hyun-chul swallowed society's bitterness whole.
He crumbled under corporate life.
After quitting, he joined a pyramid scheme through a senior—only to amass crushing debt within a year.
He couldn't confess to his parents, who'd worked themselves to the bone for his education.
Moaning in despair, Bigbo accidentally passed an Awakener aptitude test with a friend.
One path remained to repay debts.
Thus Bigbo became a Raider.
'But here too, I'm just a pack mule...'
Two years as a Raider.
Level 20.
No proper class—just hauling gear.
No party wanted slow, clumsy Bigbo for combat.
Without battles, his level stagnated.
Dungeon soloing? Unthinkable.
'Now I'm dungeon-crawling in underwear... Betting my life on a stranger.'
Bigbo muffled a sigh. Earlier, Ja-geon had punched him for sighing too loudly.
They walked dungeon corridors in silence.
"Bigbo, got cigs?"
"N-No, Boss."
"Fucking useless."
Bigbo stared incredulously.
'After stealing all my gear...'
Ja-geon half-opened his eyes, sensing the gaze.
Murderous intent swirled in his pupils.
"Got a problem, punk?"
Bigbo didn't know Ja-geon wasn't even level 10.
Couldn't fathom it—the man radiated level 30 energy at minimum.
"Boss... why enter a dungeon alone?"
Ja-geon's jaw twitched. "Why? Blame that fucking god—"
Zap!
Electricity convulsed Ja-geon's body—punishment from Isaac's Mirror for blasphemy.
The cursed artifact couldn't be discarded.
"B-Boss?!"
Bigbo scrambled back, mistaking it for an ambush.
"Clusterfuck complications," Ja-geon spat through smoke curling from his lips.
Veins bulged on his forehead.
Frost-laced killing intent rimmed his eyes.
'I'll slaughter them all. Traitors. Obstacles.'
Ja-geon—a penniless level 4 Awakener.
Ragnarok's Seven Dragons? Guild masters leagues beyond him.
'Ragnarok is MINE. My "Dragons" dare backstab me? My creations?!'
His teeth ground audibly.
Bigbo froze before the contorted, monstrous expression.
'Did I ask wrong?'
Ja-geon recomposed his face, becoming a walking grenade.
Through labyrinthine passages they trudged, reaching a chamber.
Ja-geon kicked the door open.
"Treasure chest!"
Bigbo's shout echoed. Such chests offered rewards—or lethal traps.
"Open it."
"But Boss, I've no armor—"
Shink! A blade pressed against Bigbo's neck.
"Choose: die now or open it?"
Trembling in underwear, Bigbo approached.
Thud-thud. His heart hammered.
As fingers touched the lid—
"Kekekeke!"
The chest sprouted teeth—a Mimic.
"Mi...mic."
Bigbo's legs locked. Pack mules don't fight.
Crunch!
The monster severed his right leg, bone and all.
"G-GAAAAAAAAH—!!"
Bigbo writhed, tears and snot mingling with dungeon filth.
'Mom... Dad... It hurts...'
The Mimic shuddered, centipede legs erupting beneath it.
'This is death.'
Bigbo squeezed his eyes shut.
"Stop whining! Bigbo!"
Ja-geon interposed himself.
"B-Boss?!"
"Losing one leg won't kill you! Clutch the stump!"
Bigbo obeyed, hands slick with blood.
Ja-geon faced the Mimic—iron-skinned, weak only in hidden gaps.
'Precision beats stats.'
Stance firm, blade ready.
The Explosive Dragon Shin Ja-geon—once supreme Raider—relied on skill, not levels.
No allies. Only obstacles.
"...Impossible doesn't exist."
The Mimic charged.
Swish-clang!
Blood ribbons flew—Ja-geon's own side wound reopening.
"Boss..."
"Shut it."
Bigbo watched Ja-geon dance death—dodging by millimeters, striking vulnerabilities.
The Mimic fell, spewing loot.
"Hold that shield. Drop it and you're corpse meat."
[Mimic's Fang Shield]
A teeth-embedded shield that counters attackers.
Bigbo gripped his prize—valuable enough to auction.
'I'll protect this. No matter what.'
