Chapter 09
“What?”
Without any formal greeting, he spoke to me in a calm tone—no different from this morning.
It was so natural that for a fleeting moment, I wondered if I’d been conversing with him all along. Blinking rapidly, I darted my eyes around.
No matter how I looked at it, there was no way I could bring him inside my house.
“W-wait! Please wait just a moment!”
I hurriedly changed clothes, threw on a coat over my arm, and dashed out the door. The noise hadn’t lasted long, but surely it must have been bothersome—yet he waited in silence, patient and composed.
He was a Ranker. Which meant he couldn’t exactly show up in plain sight where people might see him. So I needed somewhere quiet, where no one would intrude, and where the two of us could be alone.
I slipped into the skeletal remains of a construction site—a project abandoned years ago when the company went bankrupt.
“This is an unfinished site from Myungwoong Construction. Can you pinpoint my location and teleport here? Well… I guess that’d be asking too much, right?”
—It’s not impossible. But wouldn’t that be an invasion of privacy?
“This is me giving you permission, so… let’s just call it authorized access? Unless… are you planning to track my location every single time after this?”
—…No.
“Then it’s fine!”
Having lived here all my life, I struggled to explain directions in a way that made sense.
He went quiet, perhaps still feeling uneasy about invading my privacy, but eventually ended the call with a reluctant acknowledgment.
The cold breeze slipped through my coat, so I bundled up tighter and waited. Just as I remembered from before, a black rift tore open in the air before me. Out stepped Jeong Hwan-jae’s face.
“Ah.”
“Oh, um, hello. You came so quickly!”
“Yes. Since I don’t exactly need to use transportation…”
Our eyes met, but then he quickly turned his head away, as if embarrassed. I glanced down at myself, wondering if I looked ridiculous, but nothing seemed out of place.
Without hesitation, Jeong Hwan-jae crossed the threshold and stood before me.
“Shall we head into the dungeon?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“…Wait a moment.”
His tone was so casual, as if he were simply asking what I wanted for breakfast. Reflexively, I answered like a fool.
I had expected training—but now he wanted to take me straight into a dungeon? It was like being forced into a marathon when I hadn’t even learned how to crawl.
“Oh,” he murmured softly, then straightened his posture.
“Yom Yea-ah, your abilities are fundamentally problematic. I reviewed the Valkyrie Network’s healing skills, and at your current low proficiency, it’s impossible to achieve meaningful results outside of a dungeon environment.”
“Ah, that’s…”
“I don’t know exactly which skill you searched for and used, but… do you perhaps possess an exclusive skill beyond your current stats?”
I didn’t even need to think.
Every skill I’d used so far was enough to make people faint just from hearing it. My skill level was pitifully low, my proficiency even worse, and to top it off, I had a singing voice so terrible it could barely be called synergistic.
“At least tell me which dungeon we’re going to. It’s safe for me, right?”
Wait a second—isn’t this already a violation of the contract? Nowhere did it say, “You may be forced to risk your life in dangerous dungeons right from the start.”
Maybe reading my thoughts, he gave a small shrug.
“It’s a D-rank dungeon affiliated with Hanttae Guild. It produces unique potion materials, which we use as a side source of income. The difficulty itself is laughably low.”
“Oh, if that’s the case…”
“This way. I could fetch a car, but this is a faster method—just a few seconds, really.”
He gestured at the still-open subspace and waved casually.
I nodded solemnly, but his expression was far graver than mine.
Am I… not supposed to enter? I hesitated. But then he extended his hand cautiously, palm open, lowering his posture until our eyes met.
“May I hold your hand? Only I can navigate this space, so if you lose track, you’ll get hopelessly lost.”
“Ah… y-yes!”
I wanted to ask where exactly this led, whether it was safe—but it wasn’t the time, and we didn’t have that kind of relationship yet.
He waited, overly polite, until I responded.
“If holding hands is uncomfortable, I could carry you, or find another way, or even bring the car—”
Before he could continue, I quickly grasped his hand. His warmth seeped into my palm—just slightly hotter than mine.
I didn’t have the luxury to fuss over details. I just wanted to become a useful Hunter as quickly as possible.
His eyes widened briefly in surprise, then he pulled me along into the subspace.
“Nothing… I can’t see anything.”
“If your mana stat is below A+, everything here is invisible. We’ll head directly into the dungeon—this space connects a gate to the door.”
“That’s… possible?”
“Under certain conditions.”
He said it plainly, holding my hand firmly, before launching off the ground. My body floated weightless, like drifting through zero gravity. Ahead, a black-hole-like gate yawned wide.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but when I opened them again, my feet were on solid ground, and the sharp scent of grass filled my nose.
“We’ve arrived.”
Before me stretched a vast meadow. All around, scraps of fabric drifted and swayed as if alive, wandering without bodies.
Shapeless Cloth (D)
“Monsters that can be defeated with just the lightest attack. Their method of attack is simple too—slicing with sharpened fabric edges.”
“Oh… I think I saw something like this on TV once. Maybe in some ghost-story variety show…”
They were supposed to be spirits of garments abandoned without wearers. At least, that’s what the show claimed.
Jeong Hwan-jae gave a brief nod and strode forward until he stood in the very center of the field. He glanced back at me.
At once, all the monsters turned their gaze toward him. Overwhelmed by the disparity in strength, they hesitated, flapping restlessly but unwilling to lunge. Perhaps even monsters had survival instincts.
“Don’t move from there. They won’t leave their territory. With your physical stats, you wouldn’t even scratch them anyway.”
“…I see.”
Then, suddenly, he began removing his coat and accessories.
All of them had to be equipment.
I stifled the urge to run and collect them, waiting for him to speak. Reckless meddling could be fatal. At last, his voice reached me.
“Right now, I am completely without buffs from any equipment. Every one of these monsters will target me.”
“Ah, right.”
“And until at least one of your stats increases, I will not counterattack.”
I bit back the words Are you insane? that surged to my throat.
I knew who he was. Not just Jeong Hwan-jae. Not just Jeong Hwan. But Reaper—the Hunter who held the number-one rank.
There was no way he’d be harmed by such low-level dungeon monsters. This was nothing more than showmanship—a way to force me to awaken some sense of will.
But even knowing that, watching as dozens—hundreds—of cloth monsters swarmed him until his figure was completely obscured, my heart thundered violently.
“Guildmaster!”
“…”
“Mr. Jeong Hwan-jae!”
He gave no reply—deliberately, no doubt. Aside from the occasional rustle of shifting cloth, I couldn’t even be sure he was still there.
He was under constant assault. Maybe ordinary people could ignore such a scene, but I’d never been the type to abandon someone in trouble.
Even if that person had put themselves there intentionally.
I had to sing. That much was obvious. But what song? Nothing came to mind.
Random Music Box.
For some reason, that was the thought that struck me. The random reward I’d received out of nowhere—it slammed into my mind like a hammer. If not now, then when?
Would you like to use [Random Music Box (S ~ D)]? Remaining: 2
I chose “Use Once.”
An animated box materialized before me, shaking violently. What had looked like an ordinary chest suddenly halted—and exploded in a burst.
Song of H—ope (D)
…I’m sure that was meant to say something else.
