Kim Yong-woo had always considered himself chosen.
From the moment the dungeons appeared and the world began to change, he had been among the first to awaken.
A Starter, they called him—a title that carried weight and reverence among the Awakened.
South Korea had five renowned Starters, and Kim Yong-woo was one of them.
Each Starter had their own style, their own strategy for climbing the ranks and thriving in this new, chaotic world.
Kim Yong-woo's path was clear: dungeon raiding for wealth.
The key to wealth was the Cores—objects of astronomical value harvested from slain dungeon creatures.
They could be used to enhance skills, craft powerful items, or trade for staggering amounts of money.
And with that plan in mind, Kim Yong-woo established Heaven's Will, a guild that quickly rose to prominence.
While other Starters also created guilds, Heaven's Will became synonymous with power and riches.
Within months, they surpassed their competitors, claiming the title of South Korea's most formidable guild.
The inner circle of Heaven's Will comprised blacksmiths, enchanters, and artisans who turned dungeon rewards into legendary items.
Weapons and armor forged by Heaven's Will were highly sought after, netting them billions of won in profits.
Kim Yong-woo reveled in his newfound life.
It was a stark contrast to the man he had been only months earlier.
Before awakening, Kim Yong-woo's life was a relentless grind. Newspaper deliveries at dawn. Milk deliveries by mid-morning. Construction work until late evening. Every day was a struggle just to survive.
But the awakening had changed everything.
Now, he was wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. Heaven's Will had its headquarters in a gleaming skyscraper in Gangnam, and Kim Yong-woo was its king.
"Life is like herbal medicine," he would mutter to himself with a smug grin. "One bitter dose, and you're invincible."
He basked in luxury. Mornings in private pools. Evenings filled with fine dining and models.
Gone were the days of toil and hardship. He had risen above it all, transformed into a figure of power and success.
To him, the world seemed simple. In South Korea, if you had money, you were unstoppable. If you didn't? You were nothing.
He saw other Awakened as insignificant. They were players in the same game, but none could match his cunning or ambition.
He laughed often, the weight of his old life now a distant memory. He had become someone unrecognizable.
But dungeons didn't care about wealth, ambition, or reputation.
Kim Yong-woo realized this too late.
"Shit..."
Blood dripped down his leg, pooling on the cold, uneven floor of the dungeon. His thigh was torn, a jagged wound tied hastily with a strip of his own tattered coat. He leaned against the wall, his breath ragged and uneven.
The dungeon was unforgiving. This was no ordinary raid.
He glanced at the dark corridor ahead, shivering at the oppressive atmosphere. This wasn't just South Korea. This was another world entirely, one that operated by its own cruel laws.
He was weaponless, having dropped his sword in a panicked escape. His team—twelve capable guild members—had been massacred.
'Those dogs. Stupid assholes.'
He gritted his teeth, the memories flashing before his eyes. The screams. The blood. The tearing of flesh.
Eleven of his comrades had been torn apart in an instant. He hadn't stopped to look back, fear driving him deeper into the labyrinth.
It was no ordinary dungeon.
The stories had circulated among the Awakened—whispers of creatures that defied the norms. Monsters too powerful, too relentless to be real. Kim Yong-woo had laughed at such tales, dismissing them as exaggerated rumors.
After all, he had cleared countless dungeons, faced hordes of goblins, kobolds, and ogres. He had seen it all. Or so he thought.
But this time, it was different.
"Huk... huk...."
His breathing grew heavier as he pushed himself to keep moving. But the walls around him seemed to close in, the dungeon's atmosphere growing darker, more oppressive.
He had mocked those who spoke of non-standard creatures, thinking himself untouchable. Yet now, with every step, fear gnawed at him.
'I was chosen,' he reminded himself, a mantra to stave off the panic. 'This is an ordeal from the heavens. A test. I'll pass it.'
The sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts.
Heavy. Deliberate.
The blood drained from his face as he turned his head.
Emerging from the shadows was a creature that barely resembled the monsters he had faced before. Its figure was humanoid, but there was nothing human about it.
Obsidian armor adorned its towering frame, each piece jagged and pulsating with dark energy. Its glowing red eyes locked onto him with predatory intent, saliva dripping from its fang-filled maw.
A Black Warrior.
"No... no, no, no..."
Kim Yong-woo stumbled back, his legs trembling. He had heard whispers of these creatures, but to see one in the flesh was overwhelming.
'This is a dream,' he told himself, his mind grasping for solace. 'An illusion. I'll wake up any moment now.'
The Black Warrior raised its greatsword, the massive blade scraping against the ground with an ear-splitting screech.
Kim Yong-woo's breath hitched. He tried to will his legs to move, to flee, but they refused to obey.
Another sound echoed down the corridor.
More footsteps.
He turned his head slowly, his stomach dropping as a second Black Warrior appeared. Then a third.
Kim Yong-woo's confidence shattered.
The realization hit him like a freight train. He was going to die.
These weren't ordinary monsters. They were the kind that decimated raids, the kind that sent even the most seasoned Awakened fleeing for their lives.
The memory of his team's massacre replayed in his mind. Limbs severed. Screams silenced. Blood painting the dungeon floor.
He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.
'I can't die here,' he thought desperately. 'I'm Heaven's choice!'
The Black Warriors advanced, their glowing eyes unblinking. Each step they took felt like the tolling of a death knell.
Kim Yong-woo closed his eyes, his mind spiraling into chaos.
"Please... please..."
He braced himself for the end.
The first Black Warrior raised its sword high, the blade catching the dim light of the dungeon.
Kim Yong-woo's breath hitched, a tear slipping down his cheek as he awaited the inevitable.
But death did not come.
Instead, the sound of clashing steel echoed through the corridor.
Kim Yong-woo's eyes snapped open, confusion and disbelief flooding his features.
A figure stood between him and the Black Warriors. Cloaked in dark energy and wielding a blade that gleamed with power, the stranger moved with lethal precision.
One by one, the Black Warriors fell, their monstrous roars fading into silence.
Kim Yong-woo could only stare, his body frozen in a mix of awe and terror.
"Who..." he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible.
The figure turned to him, eyes glowing faintly with an unreadable intensity.
"Survive," the stranger said simply before vanishing into the shadows, leaving Kim Yong-woo alone with the remnants of the battle.
Kim Yong-woo sat in stunned silence, the weight of the encounter settling over him.
He had been arrogant, confident in his own strength and the protection of his guild. But today, he had seen the truth.
The dungeon was no place for the weak.
"I'll survive," he muttered to himself, his hands trembling as he pushed himself to his feet.
For the first time in months, the thought of his own mortality burned brightly in his mind. He was not invincible. But if he could survive this...
Kim Yong-woo gritted his teeth, a new resolve taking root in his heart.
"I'll become stronger," he vowed. "Stronger than anyone."
The dungeon remained silent as he limped away, his determination the only thing keeping him upright.
And deep in the shadows, the mysterious figure watched, a faint smile on his lips.