Chapter 13:
The dungeon gate shimmered violently—and then began to close.
Harsh floodlights illuminated the assembly area as only two figures stepped out alive. The surrounding Hunter Association staff straightened immediately. Clipboards were lowered. Eyes widened in shock.
"…Only two?" one of the medics muttered, stepping forward hesitantly.
Jinwoo walked out first. His expression was completely neutral, his cheap clothes stained with dried monster blood, but his posture was perfectly steady.
Yoo Jinho followed half a step behind him, his shoulders stiff and his eyes glued to the pavement.
With a final, resonating hum, the gate sealed completely, shrinking into a pinprick of light before vanishing into thin air.
No one else came out.
A senior Association officer approached them, his gaze sharp and experienced as he took in their condition. "Where are the others? Where is Hwang Dongsuk?" he asked.
The air grew heavy.
Jinwoo remained silent, his dark eyes unreadable. Before the pause could stretch any longer, Yoo Jinho stepped forward. His heart was pounding against his ribs like a drum, but miraculously, his voice didn't shake.
"Sir," Jinho said, bowing slightly, "they died while fighting the boss monster."
The officer's eyebrows knit together in deep suspicion. "Go on."
Jinho clenched his fists at his sides. "They were seriously injured but managed to weaken the boss before they fell," he continued smoothly. "I… I was able to defeat it after that. But there was nothing I could do to save them in time."
He bowed deeply, perfectly executing the picture of a grieving survivor. "I'm sorry."
Silence followed. The officer studied Jinho for a long, agonizing moment, then shifted his sharp gaze to Jinwoo.
Jinwoo met his gaze calmly, completely unfazed by the scrutiny.
The officer exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "…C-Rank dungeon casualties aren't unusual," he said at last. "You did what you could."
He turned to the staff behind him. "File it as a complete combat loss."
A few grim nods followed. Pens moved across paper, officially erasing Hwang Dongsuk and his crew from the world of the living. The Association had seen too many gates to mourn every name on a roster.
"You're free to go," the officer said, waving them off. "Rest up."
Jinho bowed again. "Thank you, sir."
Jinwoo simply inclined his head slightly and turned away.
As they walked down the street together, leaving the blockade behind, the noise of the city slowly returned—cars, voices, life continuing as if nothing had happened.
Jinho finally let out the breath he'd been holding for the last ten minutes. "…That worked," he whispered, his knees feeling weak.
Jinwoo didn't respond. He just walked calmly, his hands tucked comfortably into his pockets.
The Exchange
The Association's processing center was crowded, humming with the restrained excitement that always followed a cleared dungeon. Hunters lined up at the crystal exchange counters, raw mana stones glowing faintly inside reinforced transport cases.
Jinwoo placed his bag of mana crystals on the counter without ceremony.
The clerk's eyes widened slightly as she inspected the haul. "High-grade," she muttered, quickly scanning them through the evaluator. "From a C-Rank… impressive yield."
Numbers flashed brightly on the digital screen.
"Total exchange value: ₩54,000,000."
The clerk slid the receipt forward.
Jinwoo nodded once. "Transfer it to my account."
As the transaction processed, Yoo Jinho stood quietly beside him, his hands clasped respectfully behind his back. He waited until they stepped away from the busy counter before speaking.
"…Hyung-nim."
Jinwoo glanced at him sideways. "What is it?"
Jinho hesitated, biting his lip, then reached into his designer jacket. He pulled out a remarkably thick envelope and held it out with both hands, bowing his head.
"This," he said quickly, "it's the cash we found inside the dungeon. From the others' bags."
Jinwoo stopped walking.
Jinho kept his head bowed. "I don't need it," he continued, his voice painfully earnest. "My family has money. This amount doesn't matter to me at all." He pushed the heavy envelope closer to Jinwoo's chest. "But to you… it might."
Jinwoo stared at him. The envelope was thick. Substantial. It was a fortune stained with the blood of traitors.
"…Why?" Jinwoo asked quietly.
Jinho swallowed hard. "Because you saved me," he said simply. "Because you let me live. And because—" He clenched his fists, finding his resolve. "I want to be useful to you."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and evaluating. Jinwoo looked at Jinho for a long moment, piercing right through the wealthy teenager's bravado to the genuine terror and awe beneath it.
Then, Jinwoo reached out and took the envelope.
Jinho's shoulders relaxed instantly, as if a massive, physical weight had been lifted from his back.
"…Thank you," Jinho said quietly, bowing again.
Jinwoo casually slipped the envelope into his coat. "Don't misunderstand," he said smoothly. "Consider this money the payment for saving your life."
Jinho nodded quickly. "I know."
Jinwoo continued walking out into the afternoon sun.
At the corner of the busy intersection, the city bustled around them.
"This is where I go," Jinho said, bowing lightly one last time. "And… thank you. For everything today."
Jinwoo nodded. "Okay."
He didn't offer any parting words of comfort. He simply turned and walked away, his solitary figure quickly disappearing into the sea of ordinary people.
Jinho stood on the corner, watching his back until he could no longer see him. Only then did he finally stand up straight.
The Gathering Storm
Meanwhile, the atmosphere inside the Hunter Association Headquarters was suffocatingly heavy.
A group of senior officials sat around a long, polished conference table. Their faces were dark, their voices hushed. A single file lay open at the center of the table, illuminated by the harsh overhead light.
[ Deceased: Hwang Dongsuk ]
Rank: C
Cause of Death: Dungeon Casualty
No one in the room actually believed it was that simple.
One of the officials rubbed his temples, a headache forming. "Confirm the report again."
"Multiple times, sir," another replied grimly, tapping a tablet. "Only two survivors. A D-Rank named Yoo Jinho, and the E-Rank porter."
"…Sung Jinwoo," someone murmured.
Silence followed.
Another official leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "The problem isn't the death of a C-Rank criminal. We all knew Dongsuk was dirty."
"It's who he was related to," a woman said quietly from the end of the table.
The name was spoken reluctantly, as if invoking a curse.
"Hwang Dongsoo."
The room visibly grew colder.
An S-Rank hunter. A man notorious for his overwhelming violence and cruelty, feared even among the monsters he hunted. Currently stationed overseas in America, affiliated with the Scavenger Guild.
"If he finds out his brother was killed on a raid—" someone began.
"He'll come back," another finished grimly. "And when he does, there will be blood on the streets of Seoul."
One official clenched his fist. "Can we intervene? Protect the survivors?"
A bitter, humorless laugh answered him.
"Laws don't restrain S-Rank hunters," the woman said, her voice laced with dread. "They are natural disasters given human form. They are walking nuclear weapons."
Another voice spoke softly into the quiet room. "If Dongsoo decides those two survivors are responsible for his brother's death… we won't be able to stop him."
The room fell into a heavy, defeated silence.
Finally, the Association Chairman spoke, his voice commanding absolute authority.
"…Monitor Hwang Dongsoo's movements," he ordered.
A few heads turned sharply toward him.
"Quietly," the Chairman added, his eyes narrowing. "Do absolutely nothing to provoke him."
"And the survivors?" someone asked hesitantly.
"They are just prey," the Chairman replied flatly, closing the file. "Whether we like it or not, if Dongsoo wants them dead, they are already ghosts."
Outside the conference room windows, dark clouds rolled in and rain began to fall heavily against the glass.
Somewhere across the ocean, an S-Rank monster slept, completely unaware that his older brother was lying dead in a morgue.
And far away, walking home through the rain-slicked city streets of Seoul, Sung Jinwoo suddenly stopped. He felt a faint, inexplicable chill run down his spine.
He glanced over his shoulder at the empty street.
Finding nothing, he simply turned his collar up against the cold, and continued walking.