The cramped lab reeked of chemicals and desperation. Min Jaeho tightened his grip on the clipboard, glaring at the stack of reports he had spent the last three nights compiling. His supervisor's voice still rang in his ears from earlier that day:
"Not good enough. We're cutting your funding, Jaeho. Maybe find a project worth investing in."
His jaw clenched. Years of work—gone. Not because it lacked potential, but because he lacked the connections to push it further. His groundbreaking research on genetic mutations and regenerative properties had no place in a society obsessed with dungeon loot and flashy Tamers.
Grabbing his tattered backpack, Jaeho stormed out of the lab into the bustling streets of Seoul. Neon lights flickered overhead, advertising Tamer academies, beast auctions, and the latest dungeon expeditions. It was a world he could barely afford to dream about, let alone be part of.
"Maybe I'm just not meant for this," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as he trudged toward the bus stop.
But fate had other plans.
The sound of breaking glass jolted Jaeho from his thoughts. Turning down a dimly lit alley, he saw a group of men hauling crates out of a black van, their voices hushed and hurried. Curiosity won over caution, and he stepped closer, staying in the shadows.
"Move it! The gate's unstable—we don't have much time!" one of them barked.
Jaeho's eyes widened as he spotted the unmistakable glow of a dungeon portal swirling at the end of the alley. Unlike the regulated, guild-controlled dungeons he'd seen on TV, this one was raw and untethered, its edges crackling with unstable energy.
"What the hell are they doing?" he whispered.
As if on cue, one of the crates slipped from a man's grasp, spilling its contents—beast cores. The rare, glowing orbs were worth more than Jaeho made in a year. Before he could think, his foot hit a loose can, sending it clattering.
"Who's there?"
Jaeho froze as the group turned toward him.
"Grab him!"
They hadn't been gentle. Jaeho's head throbbed as he regained consciousness, his wrists bound with duct tape. The air around him was damp and cold, and the faint glow of bioluminescent fungi illuminated the rocky walls of what could only be a dungeon.
"What do we do with him?" one of the men asked.
"He's seen too much. Leave him here. The beasts will take care of it," another replied.
Before Jaeho could protest, they disappeared into the shadows, leaving him alone. Panic bubbled up as he struggled against the tape, but it held firm. He forced himself to breathe.
"Think, Jaeho. You're not dead yet."
The distant growl of a beast made his blood run cold. He twisted his hands, his skin scraping against the tape until it finally tore. Freeing himself, he scrambled to his feet just as the growl grew louder.
A creature emerged—a hulking Shadow Hound with glowing red eyes and saliva dripping from its jagged teeth. Jaeho backed up, his mind racing. He had no weapons, no armor, nothing.
The beast lunged.
Jaeho dodged instinctively, his years of lab work honing his reflexes. But he knew he couldn't keep it up for long. His foot hit something—a jagged rock. Gripping it tightly, he turned and struck as the hound leaped again. The rock connected with its temple, and the beast let out a pained yelp before collapsing.
Panting, Jaeho stared at the lifeless body, adrenaline surging through him. But then, something unexpected happened.
A notification appeared before his eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light:
[SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
Congratulations! You have slain your first beast. Unlocking unique ability: Beastbound Taming.
"What…?"
Before he could process it, the Shadow Hound's body dissolved into shimmering particles. From the remnants, a small, puppy-like creature materialized, its red eyes now soft and curious.
[Tamed Creature: Baby Shadow Hound]
Name your new companion.
Jaeho stared at the tiny creature, his breath catching in his throat. This wasn't normal. Tamers needed contracts, rituals, and specialized tools to bind beasts. But this… this was something else entirely.
He crouched down, cautiously extending a hand. The puppy sniffed his fingers before nuzzling against his palm.
"…Eclipse," he said softly.
The name registered, and another notification appeared:
[Eclipse has been tamed. Shared skill unlocked: Shadow Step.]
"What the hell is happening?"
The hours that followed were a blur. As Jaeho explored the dungeon, he discovered more about the system embedded in his mind. He leveled up after defeating weaker beasts, each kill granting him a skill point he could use to enhance his stats.
By the time he found an exit, he wasn't the same person who had been dragged into the dungeon. Eclipse padded beside him, its tiny form a comforting presence.
Standing under the Seoul skyline once more, Jaeho clenched his fists.
"They threw me in here to die," he muttered. "But I'm walking out stronger."
For the first time in years, Min Jaeho felt hope. He wasn't just a forgotten biochemist anymore. He was a Tamer—a different kind of Tamer. And he had a feeling the world was about to learn his name.