Han Seung-Woo was not a powerful man.
In fact, he was one of the weakest adventurers in the Hunter Association, a fact well-known among his colleagues. He wasn't bad, per se—he simply wasn't good enough.
At 25, he had been part of the Association for six years, and in all that time, his rank hadn't budged from the lowest level. He was a D-rank, barely scraping by in the most trivial of dungeons. His abilities were average, his weaponry subpar. The only thing that kept him from being expelled was his persistence. His refusal to quit.
Still, it didn't change the fact that most saw him as a burden. No one would trust him with anything important. He was always the one left behind, tasked with holding the rear while stronger adventurers faced the real threats. And that's how it had been for the last few years.
Today, though, something was different.
Han Seung-Woo stood at the entrance of a low-tier dungeon, his sword gripped tightly in his hands. The party he was with had been assigned to clear it out, but something in the air felt off—heavy, as if the dungeon was holding its breath, waiting.
But no one else seemed to care.
As usual, they treated him like a shadow, as if his presence didn't matter. The party leader, a man named Joo Minho, barked orders with confidence. His voice echoed through the dungeon corridors, but Seung-Woo could tell he wasn't being taken seriously.
"Seung-Woo, stay back and cover the rear!" Joo Minho called. "We don't need you in the frontlines."
Seung-Woo nodded stiffly, swallowing his disappointment. The mission had started like all the others—his comrades forging ahead while he was left behind, stuck with the simple task of ensuring no monsters snuck up on the others.
As the minutes passed, Seung-Woo's mind wandered. He thought about the past—the failure after failure, the rejections, the moments when his teammates would look at him like he was nothing. But there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn't strong. He wasn't special. He was just… Han Seung-Woo, a D-rank adventurer.
Suddenly, a scream pierced the silence.
The sound came from deeper within the dungeon, followed by more screams, shouts of panic.
Seung-Woo's heart skipped. He had no time to hesitate.
Before he could even think, his legs moved, driven by some primal instinct to help. He sprinted toward the noise, desperate to be useful, to finally prove his worth.
He rounded a corner just in time to see his party being overwhelmed. A massive creature—twice the size of a man—towered over them, its glowing red eyes locked on Joo Minho. The others were scattered, fighting off smaller monsters that had ambushed them.
But Minho was already on the ground, struggling to defend himself. His sword had been knocked from his hand, and he was desperately trying to crawl away from the creature's claws.
Seung-Woo froze. His body screamed for him to run, to get out of there and save himself. But he couldn't. He had to help.
He picked up a discarded sword nearby, clutching it tightly, his knuckles turning white.
"Minho!" Seung-Woo yelled, rushing forward. "Hold on! I'm coming!"
He swung his sword at the beast with everything he had. The blade barely scratched its tough hide, and the creature snarled, turning its attention toward him. The overwhelming strength of the monster sent a wave of fear crashing over him, but he couldn't back down now.
The monster lunged.
In that moment, Seung-Woo saw everything in his life flash before him—the failures, the rejections, the humiliations. All his dreams of being a great adventurer, of rising to a higher rank, of finally gaining respect. All of it was about to come to an end.
The creature's claws came down, and Seung-Woo braced himself for the inevitable.
But instead of pain, he felt an odd sensation—a strange force, a pressure in his chest. His body surged with energy as if something was awakening inside him.
Then, everything went black.
[System Online: Arsenal System Initialized]
"Welcome, Weaponmancer. Forge your own destiny."
Seung-Woo's eyes snapped open, his breath ragged as he shot upright.
Where was he?
The dungeon was gone. Instead, he found himself in a dark, empty space, surrounded by nothing but the faint glow of light.
A strange interface hovered in the air before him, glowing softly.
[System Information: You have been chosen to wield the Arsenal System. You are now the Weaponmancer.]
Seung-Woo stared at the interface in shock, struggling to process the words.
He wasn't dead. He wasn't sure how, but he wasn't dead.
He reached out to touch the floating words, and the system expanded, revealing more options. A map of dungeons, a list of materials, and a glowing icon labeled "Forge."
He didn't understand any of it.
But before he could think further, a cold voice echoed in his mind.
"You were deemed unworthy before, but now… you have been given a chance. Reforge your path, and create weapons of unimaginable power."
Seung-Woo's heart raced. What was happening?
Suddenly, a strange presence stirred within him. It wasn't like anything he had ever felt before. A whisper, distant but undeniable, nudged him to look around. And then he saw it—an ancient, cracked anvil resting in the center of the space. It was glowing with an intense heat, as though it were alive with potential.
Without fully understanding why, Seung-Woo felt compelled to approach it. His hands trembled as he touched the anvil, the warmth radiating from it seeping into his bones.
And then, just as suddenly, the system spoke again.
"Material gathered: Dungeon Boss Core. Required: 10 monster fangs, 5 rare ores, and 1 iron ingot."
The words made no sense, but Seung-Woo's instinct took over. He needed to find those materials. There was no turning back now.