Chapter 24
The raid team broke through the dungeon like an unstoppable force.
After descending a certain distance, they took a break.
“Whew, finally getting a breather,” Park Cheol-geun said as he sat next to Ja-geon.
“Old man, even if age doesn’t matter for raiders, isn’t it pitiful to still be scrambling around at your age?” Ja-geon scoffed.
Park Cheol-geun merely chuckled. “What does age matter? Without money, you’re not even treated as human.”
Ja-geon considered Park Cheol-geun at least tolerable company. The raid members ate the provisions they’d brought. Ja-geon gnawed listlessly on a piece of bread.
“Back in my prime, I used to feast on caviar and foie gras in dungeons,” Ja-geon muttered under his breath. Reflecting on his past glory only made his current state more pathetic. This is all because of those damned bastards.
Ja-geon had once been the undisputed strongest raider. His life had been one of guaranteed honor and wealth. Even national leaders deferred to him—he’d been the master of one of the few guilds capable of clearing Triple S-rank dungeons.
“We’ll resume in 10 minutes,” Yoo Mi-jeong announced to the team.
Ja-geon lit a long cigarette after his meal.
“You really savor those, don’t you? That’s not the posture of someone who’s only smoked a year or two,” Park Cheol-geun remarked.
“I told you I’m older than you think.”
“Watching you… makes me crave one myself after all this time.”
Ja-geon held out a cigarette. Park Cheol-geun smiled awkwardly. “Thanks.”
“Raiders never know when they’ll die. This could be your last smoke while alive. Just take it. Who cares about the stench? The ones we feed might as well call us Daddy anyway.”
Most raiders lived without restraint. Even those who vowed to quit after earning enough inevitably spiraled into recklessness, trapped in lives where death could come any moment. Big Bo was like that, and this old man too… They don’t belong here. No ambition.
The remaining 10 minutes vanished swiftly. The team brushed off their pants and stood.
“We’ll head straight to the boss room now,” Yoo Mi-jeong said cheerfully.
Instant raid teams tackled dungeons below their level—mismatched coordination posed too much risk. Lower-tier dungeons were quicker and safer. But this lifestyle stunts your growth. To climb higher, you must gamble your life. Many third and fourth-year raiders never surpassed level 50, shackled by their preference for safe runs. Survival-focused raids yielded meager EXP, though betting on death every time was madness.
“Boss room ahead.”
They reached a crimson-tinged door. Final checks began.
“Another day ending like this. Join me for drinks after? My treat,” Park Cheol-geun offered Ja-geon.
Ja-geon shrugged. “Maybe… if you still want to drink with me once this raid ends.”
“Huh?” Park Cheol-geun blinked, but the battle commenced before he could respond.
“Screeeech!”
The boss was a cockatrice—a chicken-headed monstrosity with a serpentine tail. A well-documented foe, it often appeared as a common enemy in A-rank or higher dungeons.
“Cockatrice! Activate fire resistance!”
Several members pulled out magic scrolls. Elemental resistance gear was essential.
“Uh… I don’t have one. Damn it,” Park Cheol-geun stammered.
No one aided the unprepared in instant raids—survival was personal.
“Pathetic old relic. Who ventures above C-rank without resistance?” Ja-geon cast Fire Resistance on him anyway.
“Thanks!” Park Cheol-geun shouted, relief flooding his face.
“Screeeech!”
The cockatrice spewed flames engulfing the entire room. Even dodging couldn’t prevent lingering burns without resistance—a notoriously brutal mechanic. But with resistance? It’s trivial. Simple patterns, weak to close combat.
The creature lashed its snake-headed tail. A bite meant venom.
Slice!
Veteran warriors cleaved the serpent heads. The cockatrice shrieked, unleashing more flames.
“Shields!”
Shield-bearers disrupted the inferno as residual heat scorched the air.
“Finish it!”
The team roared. The cockatrice staggered, riddled with wounds. Time to begin. Ja-geon prepared to sever ties and claim the boss solo—his Falcon Blessing cast was nearly complete. Maybe spare the old fool… He’d crumble under threats. A warning about his family should shut him up. Heh.
Ja-geon’s plan was simple.
They monopolized the boss monster, slaughtered the remaining raid members, and stole their items.
Thud.
Suddenly, something strange happened.
Just before defeating the cockatrice, several raid members collapsed.
They had knives embedded in their stomachs.
The cockatrice couldn’t possibly wield weapons.
Ja-geon’s stomach burned. A searing pain shot through him.
“What the hell is this?”
Ja-geon stared at the arrowhead protruding from his abdomen.
He immediately turned to look behind him.
“Everyone, please die now,” said Yoo Mi-jeong with a sweet smile as she nocked another arrow.
Her core group of five attacked the remaining raid members. They severed their bonds before Ja-geon could do the same.
Even the porters they’d brought were all part of Yoo Mi-jeong’s crew.
‘Betrayal.’
Killing five would more than double each member’s share. Selling dead raiders’ gear meant profit, and they could split the cockatrice’s EXP twice over.
Thwip!
Another arrow flew toward Ja-geon. He barely twisted his upper body aside as it grazed past his throat.
‘This wound is fatal. I was casting Falcon Bless when attacked—couldn’t concentrate.’
Through swimming vision, Ja-geon assessed the situation where others would panic.
“Aaaaagh! You bastards!”
Injured raiders fought back hopelessly against Mi-jeong’s crew.
‘I need to retreat…’
Ja-geon snapped off the protruding arrowhead. Mi-jeong relentlessly drew her bowstring again.
“…Dark Mist.”
Black fog erupted around Ja-geon. Mi-jeong’s panicked volley missed as he laughed hoarsely and escaped through the boss room door—unlocked since the cockatrice’s death.
Surprisingly fierce resistance delayed pursuit. “Ghk!” Ja-geon spat blood; he needed to extract arrows and use healing potions fast.
“Hey!”
Park Cheol-geun emerged too, bleeding heavily. Unlike rage-driven raiders, this timid family man fled purely to survive—not through cold calculation like Ja-geon.
“Pull this arrow out. I’ll drink a potion immediately,” Ja-geon ordered. Cheol-geun complied without hesitation.
Healing brought exhaustion—potions weren’t cure-alls; they drained stamina proportionally to recovery. “Filthy traitors…”
“Common enough,” Ja-geon chuckled darkly, dark circles under his eyes. ‘Getting outplayed first—how ridiculous.’ He’d planned similar betrayal himself; no room to call them cowardly. ‘Only survivors define justice.’
As they moved, Cheol-geun panted: “The Paragon Holy Knights will punish them outside!”
“Useless,” Ja-geon sneered. “They only care about surface-world order. Dungeon butchery? Not their concern unless it spills outside—their ‘Order’ is purely performative.”
When Cheol-geun insisted their witness testimony mattered, Ja-geon snapped: “Shut up. Want to announce our location?”
Thud, thud, thud—pursuers approached faster than expected.
Thwip! An arrow struck near Ja-geon’s feet as sharpshooter Mi-jeong closed in: “Why keep running? Surrender now for a painless end. We’re busy people~”
“Tch.”
Ducking around a corridor corner just before another arrow embedded into stonework—her allies hadn’t caught up yet. ‘Once my team arrives, you’re dead,’ Mi-jeong thought, cautiously maintaining distance rather than risking solo combat.
Cheol-geun fretted: “Y-you want to smoke NOW?!” as Ja-geon lit up. ‘No choice… I’ll use him as bait—’
A single survivor was better than none (though Ja-geon planned slaughtering them all). Just as he prepared to act—
Tap.
