Ray stepped into the crowded clearing, his gaze flickering across the sea of figures that filled the area.
These weren't ordinary civilians. Every person carried a weapon, their armor scratched and worn from countless battles.
Hunters, mercenaries, and law enforcers stood in tense clusters, their conversations hushed but urgent.
The air itself was heavy, thick with the kind of anticipation that preceded something big.
He wove through the crowd, moving with purpose but keeping his presence unassuming.
As he passed a group of hunters, their voices cut through the noise around him.
"Damn, did you see that standoff between the City Head and the Black Market branch leader?"
"Of course I did. I swear, if they had actually fought, the destruction would've wiped out half the district."
"But you're missing the real point. The Black Market never acts this openly. For them to show up like that, it means whatever's inside this dungeon is worth risking war over."
Ray's eyes flickered toward the speaker, a burly hunter gripping the hilt of his sword like a lifeline. His companion scoffed.
Then, someone else leaned in, lowering their voice.
"Yeah, I heard rumors… something about an ancient treasure."
Ray held back a sigh. I already know that much.
He wasn't interested in hearing the same rumors again. He needed something useful—information about how the dungeon functioned, if any strong forces had entered already, what kind of creatures lurked inside.
He shifted slightly, moving toward another group.
"Let's just agree—this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance."
"Yeah, if you want to throw your life away. The death rate is through the roof."
"But think about it! We don't even have to take any risks. We just go in, grab whatever we can, and sell it off for a fortune. The Black Market is paying, and so are the city authorities."
"And if we're lucky, we might even get noticed by a high-rank hunter."
Ray's brows furrowed slightly.
They're paying people for whatever they find inside?
If the Black Market and the city both wanted whatever was inside badly enough to throw money at random hunters, then the situation was already out of control.
That meant this wasn't just a desperate scramble for power—it was an organized operation.
Someone, whether it was the city authorities or the Black Market, wanted whatever was inside so badly that they were willing to hire random hunters as disposable tools to get it.
And the moment he realized that, a slow unease feeling crept down Ray's spine.
I have to go in. If I waste any more time, I might fail this quest before I even get the chance to try.
He had already wasted enough time. The longer he hesitated, the more hunters would enter before him. If he waited too long, there was a chance the quest would fail before he even stepped foot inside.
His pace quickened, urgency pressing against his nerves as he approached the dungeon's entrance.
The shimmering violet portal loomed ahead, an eerie contrast against the buildings surrounding it.
As he moved forward, the crowd thinned. The idle hunters, the ones simply watching, remained behind, while those willing to risk their lives stepped ahead.
These were the ones desperate enough to gamble everything for a shot at wealth.
Some of them were strong—seasoned fighters who radiated confidence—but others were barely holding themselves together, their fingers twitching against their weapons, fear evident in their stances.
Ray exhaled, steadying himself.
I don't know why the system gave me a quest this difficult…
The task was to clear a C-rank dungeon. That meant the people entering should be, at minimum, Expert Rank or below.
{A/N: Expert- C Rank}
And he wasn't an Expert.
He wasn't even close.
I'm only Apprentice Rank. I don't even know if I'll make it out alive.
The smarter thing to do would be to turn back.
But something deep in his chest wouldn't let him.
This wasn't logic, It was instinct.
Something inside that dungeon was waiting for him.
He could feel it.
And if he walked away now, he knew—without any doubt—that he'd regret it.
The moment Ray stepped closer to the portal, a sharp voice sliced through the thick, heavy air.
"Stop right there."
It wasn't loud, but it carried the kind of weight that demanded obedience. The authority in it made Ray's body tense instinctively, his steps halting mid-motion.
He turned, and the first thing he noticed was that this wasn't just some low-ranking enforcer.
A woman strode toward him, her every movement controlled, deliberate—like a sharpened blade honed to perfection.
The soft blue glow of a holographic screen illuminated her face, the light flickering over her smooth, angular features.
Her presence alone shifted the atmosphere in a way that made even the surrounding hunters straighten subconsciously.
Her uniform spoke of authority, tailored with rigid precision. The dark navy fabric clung to her frame, reinforced with obsidian-colored plating along her shoulders and forearms, subtly enchanted to absorb impact.
Gold embroidery traced the edges of the jacket, forming intricate patterns that shimmered under the dungeon's glow.
At her waist, a thin, black belt carried a holstered mana pistol, a sleek combat knife strapped beside it.
And on her chest—stitched in silver thread, unmistakable even in the dim lighting—was the insignia of the Human Association.
Unlike the other enforcers, who wore their uniforms like a symbol of status, she carried hers like a second skin. There was no hesitation in her stride, no wasted motion.
Her eyes were razor-sharp, dissecting him in a glance—assessing, calculating, and concluding before he could even process the weight of her scrutiny.
She wasn't looking at him like a student.
She was looking at him like a deviation from the expected order.
Ray's muscles tensed as he resisted the urge to shift under her scrutiny.
"What's your name?" she asked, her voice crisp, devoid of unnecessary emotion.
Ray met her gaze without faltering, "Ray Dawson."
She didn't respond immediately.
She didn't even fully acknowledge him yet. Instead, her fingers glided over the holographic screen, typing his name with practiced efficiency. The interface flickered as data loaded instantly.
Her lips moved slightly as she read.
"Ray Dawson… age twelve… E-Rank Adventurer… Starlight Academy student… All-Affin—"
Then, she stopped.
Her fingers hovered just above the interface.
Her gaze snapped back to him, her pupils constricting slightly as if seeing him for the first time.
A crack formed in her measured composure, so brief that most wouldn't have noticed. But Ray saw it.
A glimmer of disbelief.
"You're… here?" she muttered, almost under her breath, as though the mere fact was unnatural.
Her expression didn't change much, but something in the way she stiffened—the subtle tension in her shoulders, the faint flicker of hesitation in her eyes betrayed her thoughts.
She typed again to double-check the information.
But there was no change.
A slow, measured breath left her lips as she straightened, reinforcing her professional mask.
"Tell me," she said, tilting her head ever so slightly, "why exactly are you here?"
Ray blinked as he thought inwardly, That was an odd way to phrase it.
Outwardly, he replied, "I came for practical experience," the lie slipping off his tongue with ease.
Her fingers twitched.
She didn't challenge him outright.
Instead, she watched him.
Her scrutiny deepened.
The weight of her stare settled on him like a slow-building storm, silent yet suffocating.
She didn't believe him.
She knew he was lying.
But she didn't push further.
Instead, she exhaled softly, shifting her stance before delivering her next words with absolute finality.
"You are not allowed to enter."
Ray's frown deepened. "Why not?"
Her fingers glided across the screen once more. "Because the minimum requirement for entry is Adept Rank (D-Rank)." Her gaze flicked up, pinning him down. "And you are only Apprentice Rank."
Ray's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to remain calm.
"I have my Adventurer ID," he countered. "The regulations state that I can enter a dungeon one rank above my own. That's standard procedure."
The corner of her lip twitched—not in irritation, but in something far more condescending.
"That was the regulation," she corrected him slowly and deliberately, "But this dungeon has changed."
She turned the holographic screen slightly, revealing new classified data. "We received intel that the structure inside has shifted significantly. Multiple teams have entered since yesterday."
She hesitated briefly before continuing.
"But None have returned."
Ray absorbed the information without outwardly reacting.
That, he already knew.
The moment the innkeeper had mentioned it, he had understood the risks. But hearing it from an official source, seeing the tension in her posture, the unease buried beneath her neutral expression—it confirmed that something was very, very wrong with this dungeon.
And yet, despite knowing this, he still needed to enter.
She wasn't done speaking.
Her eyes hardened.
"And you," she said, her voice dropping just slightly, "shouldn't even be here."
Ray felt his shoulders tense. "What do you mean?"
She tapped the screen again. "I don't know who authorized you to leave the academy unsupervised," she said carefully. "But according to every official record, no first-year student is permitted to enter a dungeon alone."
Ray opened his mouth to argue, but she was faster.
"You may have entered dungeons before," she said. "But that was before you were enrolled in the academy."
Her tone remained calm and even. But there was an edge to it now, a quiet warning beneath the surface.
"And as of a few days ago," she continued, eyes narrowing slightly, "a special notice was issued."
Ray's pulse spiked.
Slowly, deliberately, she turned the screen toward him and pointed at the single line that was highlighted.
[Ray Dawson is not permitted to leave the academy unaccompanied.]
A cold weight settled in his gut.
His entire body tensed.
Then, she delivered the final blow.
"You are the only All-Affinity user recorded in the history," she stated. "And that alone makes you a high-priority asset."
She exhaled through her nose. "Do you understand how serious your situation is?"
Ray's thoughts came to a screeching halt.
Wait… I wasn't allowed to leave alone?
That couldn't be right. No one had stopped him. No one had said anything.
But as he thought about it—really thought about it—he realized…
No one had tried to stop him because no one expected him to leave in the first place.
It wasn't a rule he had broken.
It was a rule they had assumed he would never break.
Shit.
His pulse kicked up a notch. This wasn't just about dungeon restrictions anymore. If she contacted the academy—
His quest would fail.
His chance to enter the dungeon would vanish.
And the worst part?
She looked like she was already making the call.
Ray's breathing picked up slightly. His mind raced, searching for an option, an excuse, a way out.
What do I do?
His instincts screamed at him to move, to say something—anything—before she could press that final button.
***