Judul: "DEATH MORTGAGE: The Hunter's Liquidation"

The canvas straps of the backpack dug into Han Jihan’s shoulders, tearing at the skin.

The ninety-pound load of mana potions, a folding tent, leftover magic cores from low-class monsters, and emergency rations felt like a slab of hot lead pressing down on his spine. Jihan gritted his teeth, forcing the thin combat boots on his feet to keep slogging through the pools of green sludge in Sector B of the A-Class Dungeon, "Crying Cave."

Five people walked casually ahead of him. They were the elite team from the White Tiger Guild. Their armor gleamed, reflecting the dungeon's crystal light. Their weapons clinked softly, and the scent of expensive perfume mixed with the cavern's musty odor.

"Hey, Porter! Stop lagging, damn it! You think this is a fucking picnic?"

That harsh voice belonged to Bagas, the team leader with a sharp face and an ebony magic staff in his hand. He glanced back, staring at Jihan with a look of pure disgust, as if he were looking at a cockroach stuck to his shoe.

Jihan bowed his head slightly, swallowing saliva that felt like sand. "Sorry, Boss. The mud's a little thick here."

"That's a bullshit excuse. If even one of my potions breaks, I'm cutting your pay by fifty percent," Bagas threatened. He then turned back around, wrapping his arm around the waist of Siska, the scantily clad Healer who had been complaining about her dirty fake nails.

"Come on, babe," Siska whined, leaning her head on Bagas's shoulder. "Let's just hurry up and clear the boss room. I have a spa appointment at eight tonight. The goblin smell in here is making me sick."

"Don't worry, sweetie. The Sector B boss is probably just some crippled Orc Lord. One Fireball from me and he's toast," Bagas boasted, followed by a round of crisp laughter from the other three elite members.

Jihan let the condescending laughter hang in the air. He ignored the stinging pain in his shoulders. He ignored the fact that he, a twenty-two-year-old man, was being treated worse than a hound. When they had put a few yards between them, Jihan let go of one backpack strap, reached into the pocket of his shabby cargo pants, and pulled out a phone with a shattered screen.

His rough, calloused thumb pressed the power button. The screen glowed dimly, showing a photo of a pale teenage girl lying in a hospital bed, an oxygen tube in her nose. Dian. His one and only little sister.

Jihan managed a faint smile. The pain in his spine eased just a little.

"Twenty million," Jihan thought to himself.

That was the net pay Bagas had promised if he successfully carried the elite team's gear out of the dungeon. Twenty million was enough to cover Dian's overdue ICU bill for the week and buy her pain medication for the next two days. To Bagas, that amount of money was probably just the price of a bottle of wine at a nightclub. For Jihan, it was the price of his sister's life.

"Just hold on a little longer, kiddo. I'm coming home with the money," Jihan mumbled, almost inaudibly, stroking the cracked screen before putting it back in his pocket.

Jihan quickened his pace, half-jogging to catch up with Bagas's team as they neared the end of Sector B. The cave tunnel narrowed. At the far end stood a massive, rusted iron gate. That was the door to the boss room.

But suddenly, Bagas stopped walking. Siska stopped chewing her gum. Reza, the massive Tank walking at the very front, lowered his steel shield.

The peaceful atmosphere that had followed them for hours shattered in seconds.

There was no monster's roar. No sound of footsteps. There was only a silence that was too absolute, so total it made their ears ring.

"Boss… why is it so cold all of a sudden?" Reza whispered, his voice trembling. His breath turned into a white vapor in the air.

Jihan, who had just caught up, started shivering too. The temperature in the room had plummeted by dozens of degrees. This chill wasn't natural. It wasn't the cold of ice, but a cold that pierced straight to the bone marrow. Along with the freezing air came the thick, metallic stench of fresh blood, and a lot of it.

CRACK… CRACK…

The stone wall to their left, which should have been a solid dungeon boundary, suddenly sprouted glowing red cracks.

Bagas took a step back, his ebony staff raised hesitantly. "Formation! Reza, front! Siska, buff me now! Something's wrong!"

Before Siska could even chant a spell, the stone wall exploded inward.

The explosion produced no fire, only a thick cloud of dust and a shockwave that threw Jihan against the opposite wall. The ninety-pound backpack slammed into his chest, forcing the air from his lungs.

Jihan coughed violently, his eyes stinging from the rock dust. Faintly, through the slowly thinning curtain of dust, a secret room was revealed. The dungeon wall had just collapsed, exposing something that should never have existed in an A-Class Dungeon. An anomaly. An internal Dungeon Break.

And from within the darkness of that secret room, a sharp clicking sound echoed, like hundreds of billiard balls clacking against each other at once.

Click… click… click… click…

Eight blood-red points of light ignited in the darkness, thirteen feet above the ground.

Jihan held his breath. His heart pounded so hard his ears throbbed.

A giant shadow crawled out. It was a colossal spider with a carapace as black as obsidian, reflecting the dim cave light. Its body was the size of a freight truck, with eight hairy legs tipped like steel spears. On its swollen abdomen was a pattern resembling a human skull that pulsed with a reddish glow.

A Shadow Weaver. An S-Class Boss Monster. A peak predator that should have required thirty elite Hunters to take down now stood before five arrogant Hunters and one porter.

"What… what the hell is that thing?" Reza screamed, his shield trembling violently.

The monster didn't answer. It just moved one of its legs. The movement was too fast for the human eye to follow.

CRASH!

In a fraction of a second, the tip of the spider's leg pierced through Reza's steel shield as if it were made of wet paper. The leg kept going, punching through Reza's chest plate, shredding his lungs, and exiting through the giant man's back.

Fresh blood sprayed onto the face of Siska, who was standing right behind him.

"GAAAAARRRGHHH!" Reza shrieked as blood bubbled from his mouth. The monster lifted its front leg, raising Reza's flailing body into the air. Then, with its fang-filled maw, it bit Reza's head clean off. The sound of a skull crunching echoed in the narrow corridor.

Reza's headless corpse was thrown carelessly against the wall.

"RUN! HOLY SHIT, IT'S AN S-CLASS! RUN!" Bagas shrieked hysterically, his voice cracking like a pig being slaughtered.

Bagas's sharp face, once full of arrogance, was now as white as a corpse. There was no Fireball. No heroic fight. The TV hero worshipped by the public turned tail and sprinted past Jihan, leaving Siska to collapse on the ground, pissing her pants in terror.

The monster screeched, an ultrasonic sound that made Jihan's ears ring and bleed. The giant spider leaped, landing directly on top of Siska and the other two Hunters. There was no resistance. There was only the sound of wet flesh being torn apart and a long scream that was cut short instantly.

Jihan struggled. His brain screamed at his legs to move, but the damn backpack pinned his body. In a panic, he pulled a rusty folding knife from his pocket and sawed at the canvas straps with trembling, mud-caked hands.

The weight came off. Jihan scrambled to his feet, running with all his might after Bagas toward the iron gate at the back of the corridor, the only exit to the safety of Sector A.

Bagas was already fifteen feet ahead of Jihan, his hand nearly touching the lever of the massive iron gate.

But the click… click… click… of the monster's legs grew closer from behind. The monster was done chewing. Its main course was finished, and now it was chasing the leftovers. The foul wind from the monster's maw brushed the back of Jihan's neck. It was too fast. The monster was way too fast.

"Boss! Wait for me!" Jihan yelled, forcing his leg muscles to work beyond their limits. They were only six feet from the gate.

Bagas glanced back. His eyes were wild, filled with panic and a selfish survival instinct. He saw the monster less than thirty feet behind Jihan. If Bagas opened the gate now, Jihan would get in, but the monster would surely follow before the gate could shut completely.

Bagas needed a delay. He needed bait. Flailing bait to hold up the monster for just five seconds.

Bagas’s eyes met Jihan's. The panic was gone now, replaced by the cold calculation of a killer.

"Sorry, Han. You're paid to be sacrificed, right?" Bagas hissed. "Consider this your bonus."

Jihan frowned, not understanding. He reached his hand out. "Boss, please—"

Bagas didn't take his hand. He channeled blue mana into his ebony staff, hardening the wood to the strength of steel. With a deadly spinning motion, Bagas swung the staff with all his might, slamming it into Jihan's right shin.

CRACK!

The sound of the break drowned out Jihan's own heartbeat.

The pain wasn't immediate, numbed by sheer shock. Jihan was thrown aside, crashing onto the stone floor. His body skidded a few inches.

Jihan tried to stand, but his right leg folded at an unnatural angle. He looked down. Through the torn fabric of his cargo pants, his shin bone was sticking out, bone-white, covered in fresh blood and pulsing marrow.

Absolute pain finally slammed into his brain. Jihan's vision went white. The air was sucked from his lungs. He couldn't scream. His mouth hung open, trying to endure the agony that was tearing his sanity apart.

Fighting back a sob that burned his throat, Jihan looked up. He saw Bagas's back slipping through the closing gap of the iron gate.

"YOU BASTARD, BAGAS!" Jihan finally managed to scream, spitting blood from a tongue he'd accidentally bitten. "MY SISTER… WHO'S GOING TO PAY MY SISTER'S HOSPITAL BILLS?!"

Bagas didn't look back. From behind the closing gate, his hand pulled the lever hard.

BLAM!

The two-ton iron gate slammed shut, its locking mechanism echoing loudly, sealing Jihan in the dark corridor with death itself.

Jihan lay in a pool of his own blood. His breathing was ragged. A cold sweat soaked his entire face. His respect, naive admiration, and trust in the idea of a 'Hunter' evaporated. All that was left was hatred. A hatred so pure it made his chest hurt more than his shattered leg.

They weren't heroes. They were rats in golden uniforms.

The clicking sound stopped right behind Jihan's head.

The red light from the monster's eight eyes illuminated his back. A giant shadow slowly covered his trembling, skinny body. Jihan slowly turned his broken body over, staring straight up.

The Shadow Weaver's maw opened wide, revealing rows of serrated fangs dripping with green slime.

A single drop of the acid fell. It sizzled on the stone, just an inch from Jihan's eyeball.

The monster's jaw snapped shut.