Chapter 8
He stepped into the dungeon.
The damp dungeon air touched his nostrils.
'Good. This is it.'
The dungeon's scent felt more familiar than the outside air.
Ja-geon smirked.
He watched the raid party walking ahead.
"Hmm?"
The raid leader at the front felt his scalp prickle.
He glanced back briefly.
Only two porters trailed behind at a distance.
An inexplicable unease settled over him.
'It's just an E-rank dungeon. No need to tense up.'
The raid leader tried to calm himself.
Dungeons always made him nervous.
Death here was permanent.
He'd already lost and replaced over ten comrades.
To survive, he needed to grow stronger.
'Big Bo, Shin Ja-geon. Shin Ja-geon? Where have I...'
The name felt vaguely familiar.
Not entirely foreign.
Where had he heard it before?
Just as the thought began to take shape—
"Kiiiiii!"
A monster emerged.
The raid leader shoved his thoughts aside and roared:
"Battle positions!"
The raid members sprang into action.
"You bastard! It's scorching! Throw it properly!"
"Then duck your head."
"Ugh, this little shit."
"Look ahead! Front! They're coming!"
The battle descended into chaos.
Ja-geon, as a porter, observed from afar.
'Typical low-tier dungeon raiders.'
A disorganized mob, mismatched coordination, ambiguous orders.
'Even if they level up, they'll never surpass C-rank at this rate.'
Ja-geon's discerning eye for talent was unmatched.
Even Ragnaf's Seven Dragons had been scouted by him.
'True talent reveals itself early. Stats and skills are mere tools—what matters is how you use them.'
To Ja-geon, the raid party reeked of amateurism.
The skirmish ended.
They cleared the monsters lurking in the passage.
No fatalities, but numerous injuries.
The raid party slumped down to rest.
Ja-geon and Big Bo gathered scattered items—a porter's duty.
"Hey! Cigarette."
The raid leader barked at Ja-geon.
Ja-geon produced a cigarette and lighter from his inner pocket.
He placed the cigarette between the leader's lips and lit it.
Click
"Move faster, you bastards! Enjoying the show while we fight?"
Thwack!
The leader smacked Ja-geon's head.
A baseless venting of frustration.
"Dog..."
Ja-geon swallowed the word rising to his lips.
The leader glared at him with icy eyes.
Even resting raiders turned to watch.
"Dog? Dog? What?"
The leader looked ready to draw his blade.
Ja-geon forced a smile, head bowed.
"...Means I'll work like a dog. We're grateful just to be included."
Public perception painted Shin Ja-geon as impatient, arrogant, and rage-driven.
Some truths, some lies.
Ja-geon understood how the weak fought.
He knew how to endure, sharpening the blade in his heart.
His lack of patience stemmed from never needing it.
No reckless raider without restraint could reach the top.
Click
Ja-geon lit the leader's cigarette.
The leader lounged, blowing smoke as they descended deeper.
Ja-geon checked his level.
A status window flickered across his vision.
'Level 10.'
Merely assisting as a porter granted him progression.
Big Bo was Level 20 but stagnant without combat.
'Reaching the depths might push me to 11 at best.'
"Hahaha! This shield's insane!"
The leader shouted during combat.
Two ogres appeared.
He raised the Mimic's Fang Shield.
Thunk!
Ogre strikes met the shield.
Fangs shot out, impaling the beasts.
New fangs regrew around the shield's edge.
Perfect against large monsters—slow, predictable attacks, massive targets.
The leader single-handedly dispatched both ogres.
"Boss, that was ours..."
Big Bo stomped in frustration.
Ja-geon coldly retorted:
"Shut it. You lost it by being an idiot."
Big Bo flinched away.
'Disappointing. I thought he was better...'
Big Bo trudged at the rear, head low.
'To think I admired him.'
Ja-geon's former boldness had drawn him in.
Now that admiration curdled to bitterness.
"Got this for one healing potion! Lucky me. Big Bo, water!"
The post-battle leader demanded.
Big Bo approached with a canteen.
"Calling it a purchase? More like theft."
The words surprised even him.
He'd hoped partnering with Ja-geon would change things.
Yet here he remained—a pathetic porter.
His petty defiance felt revolutionary.
"What did you say, piglet?"
"I said it's theft. One potion for this?"
The leader's mood plummeted.
His steel-gauntleted fist swung.
Crunch!
Big Bo's face erupted in pain.
He slid across the floor, dropping the canteen.
Blood dripped from his swelling face.
The leader hoisted him by the collar.
"Know your place, porter."
"Tch! Guilty conscience?"
Big Bo spat blood, cracked lips twitching.
'I made him angry! I did that!'
A perverse thrill surged through him—his first act of rebellion.
"You're begging for death!"
Thud! Thud!
The leader kicked and stomped.
Big Bo curled up, whimpering.
Through swollen eyes, he saw Ja-geon chatting with others.
"Ugh, that pathetic fuck. Wish he'd get beaten sane."
Ja-geon laughed.
A raider stared.
"You're vile. He's your comrade."
"Comrade? Should I take hits for him? Make me sole porter instead."
The raider shrugged.
"You're human trash. But tell the boss later—he likes you."
Ja-geon gulped water, cooling his fury.
"If we survive," he muttered, turning away.
Big Bo's face was a bruised mess.
Fatal wounds for non-Awakened.
His limping form drew pity.
"Rebelling now, Big Bo? Doesn't suit you."
Ja-geon patted his shoulder.
Big Bo slapped the hand away.
"You're no better!"
Ja-geon froze, staring.
"You mocked me while I got beaten! Bastard!"
Ja-geon covered his face, laughing.
"Shouldn't I laugh? Watching a weakling play hero? Know your place. Revenge? Get stronger first."
His sneer cut deep.
"I misjudged you. Disappear after this."
Their argument escalated.
"Shut up! Boss room's ahead!" a raider snapped.
Ja-geon shoved past.
"Sorry. The pig lost his temper."
Abandoned at the rear, Big Bo fought tears.
'Why is life so hard? What did I do wrong?'
He hated everyone—Ja-geon most of all.
