
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.Latest Chapter
Chapter 11: A Fortunate Misunderstanding and the Shadow of Death
The muzzle of the semi-automatic pistol in Luna's hand swept across the burning room.The barrel passed over pools of thick blood, over Bravo's corpse with its caved-in skull, then down to Charlie's corpse with its torn tendon, and finally stopped on Alpha's corpse with a poisoned knife sticking out of its jaw. The smell of roasted flesh, stale blood, and cheap burning carpet immediately hit Luna's senses.Her eyes behind the thin-framed glasses widened. Her auditor's instincts tried to detect any traces of mana fluctuation, magic explosions, or residual demonic energy. But the tracking device on her tactical vest didn't even flicker.Three elite assassins were killed by pure physical violence. With an oxygen tank, broken glass, and a strangling cable.Luna swung her pistol, locking her sights directly on Han Jihan, who was collapsed in the corner of the room. The young man was huddled on the ash-covered marble floor, both hands covering his mouth, his eyes wide with panic."Jihan!" L
Chapter 10: An Unsecured Micro-Loan From The Devil's System
The heat in the corner of VVIP room 402 had surpassed the limits of human skin tolerance. The burning Persian rug released a thick, black smoke that smelled of synthetic chemicals, choking Jihan's lungs every time he tried to breathe. The storm raging through the shattered window did nothing to help extinguish the fire. In fact, the night wind acted like a giant fan, fanning the flames even more fiercely as they licked at the ceiling.Jihan leaned against the concrete wall, which was starting to feel like it was cooking his back. His right leg was bent at a disgusting, broken angle at the knee. Fresh blood continued to trickle from his temple, mixing with the black soot that covered half his face.In front of him, less than twelve feet away, Alpha stood blocking the only path to the exit.The assassin laughed cynically. His right hand glowed a bright orange again, gathering oxygen to form a second fireball. The flames reflected in Alpha's eyes, which were filled with the arrogance of
Chapter 9: A Cripple's Dance
Ten minutes before the steel swing that cracked a skull.The numbness that had imprisoned Jihan's body began to fade, replaced by the sensation of a thousand invisible needles stabbing every one of his muscle tissues. The pins and needles were agonizing, spreading from his groin to the tips of his toes.Jihan lay on the bed. A nurse had moved him from the floor a few hours ago, injecting him with a sedative that, unfortunately, had no effect because his metabolism had already been wrecked by the Death Bank. He wasn't asleep. He was just closing his eyes, focusing all his remaining energy just to move his little finger.Scrape.Jihan's ears caught a very soft scraping sound from the corridor outside his room.The sound was almost drowned out by the raging storm outside the window. However, the street instincts he had honed over years as a porter reacted automatically. Jihan knew exactly what the soles of a hurried nurse's shoes sounded like, and that sound didn't belong to a nurse. Tho
Chapter 8: The Cornered Rats
CRASH!A bottle of imported whiskey worth tens of millions shattered against the marble wall of the luxurious penthouse. The amber liquid, reeking of strong alcohol, splashed everywhere, staining the white Persian rug beneath it.Bagas stood in the middle of the room, his chest heaving violently. He was breathing like a mad bull. His golden silk shirt was badly wrinkled, its collar torn from his own frantic pulling.In the corner of the room, Siska cowered on the sofa, hugging her trembling knees. Her mascara was running, mixing with her tears and ruining her beautiful face."Babe… stop…" Siska whimpered hoarsely. "Our careers… what are we going to do? The hashtags on social media are all attacking us. If the ethics committee tomorrow—""SHUT UP, YOU WHORE!" Bagas roared, turning to point a trembling finger at Siska's face. His eyes were red and wild, filled with stress-induced veins that looked ready to pop. "If you hadn't been so busy whining about your dirty fake nails in the dunge
Chapter 7: Luna, the Ice-Hearted Auditor
The tip of the black stiletto stopped just an inch from Jihan's nose.Jihan was still sprawled on his side on the marble floor. His cheek was pressed against the pool of his own black blood. He couldn't move his neck, only his eyes could roll upward, tracing a pair of long legs clad in black trousers, up to a dark gray blazer that was ironed without a single crease.The woman crouched down slowly. The cold scent of musk and peppermint perfume instantly chased away the foul, sulfurous smell of Jihan's blood.The woman's face was expressionless. Her skin was pale, her jaw was firm, and her straight black hair was tied back in a neat ponytail. There was no panic or disgust in her eyes as she looked at Jihan, who was covered in thick blood like a walking corpse. Her sharp eyes, behind thin-framed glasses, studied him as if he were an insect trapped on a dissection table."I am the Assistant Head of the Central Hunter Association's Audit Department, Luna," the woman said. Her voice was as
Chapter 6: The First Bill
The first thing that hit Jihan's nose was the smell of expensive antiseptic mixed with lavender.His eyelids felt glued shut. It took a serious effort just to pry them open. The white light from the fluorescent lamp above stung his eyes, but slowly, his vision began to focus. Jihan was no longer on the cold asphalt, covered in his own black blood. He was sinking into an incredibly soft orthopedic mattress layered with white silk sheets.Twenty-four hours had passed since the incident in the Crying Cave courtyard.Jihan turned his head slowly. The hum of the air conditioner was steady. An IV tube fed a clear fluid directly into a vein on the back of his left hand. The room was insanely luxurious. A hundred-inch flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall, a genuine leather sofa sat in the corner, and a giant glass window revealed the Jakarta skyline.This wasn't the third-class ward where his sister, Dian, was being treated. This was a VVIP room where a single night's stay could cost a port
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