Dede, a mage by specialty, stood with his palm outstretched.
"Looks like we have no choice," he said grimly.
"Stay close, stay alert. If we die, at least we die together and for a reason."
The group pressed forward.
The ones who had voted to report the passage followed reluctantly behind.
---
Minutes passed in tense silence, broken only by the sound of footsteps echoing through the tunnel.
"Hey... we've been walking for five minutes," a woman whispered to the person beside her, but the quiet made it loud enough for everyone to hear.
She was one of those who voted against going in, and the glares from the others made that clear.
Some men smirked; a few even tried to play the hero, offering comforting smiles.
Timothy ignored it all.
His thoughts were elsewhere, calculating how much he could make selling the mana crystal he had found earlier.
If they struck gold in this dungeon, it could mean a better life at home, at least for a while.
Another five minutes passed before they reached a slope, massive and smooth, as if it once covered an entire roadway.
Beyond it, jagged rocks stretched into the darkness.
Seeing it, Cyril made his decision.
"This is where we stop. We're heading back to report."
Dede scoffed.
"What's the rush? We've come this far, and you're willing to walk away empty-handed?"
"I'm not risking lives for a maybe," Cyril shot back.
"I've got a family waiting for me."
Dede folded his arms.
"George, we shouldn't mix personal matters with business. This is a mild disagreement, why back down now?"
Everyone watched the exchange closely. Cyril's lips tightened.
He hated being called by his first name in front of the team.
But he wasn't going to let Dede push him around.
"This isn't up for debate. We're leaving," Cyril said firmly.
Dede smirked, clearly not satisfied.
...
Meanwhile two boys by the side engaged in a conversation.
"Hey bro, I thought ants couldn't survive in dungeons?"
"That's not entirely true," his companion replied, leaning against the wall.
"The handbook says monsters dominate dungeons, but smaller creatures can exist too."
"You're not saying they're dangerous, right?" he asked, stepping back uneasily.
"Nah, they're probably just foraging."
"Still makes me uncomfortable," he muttered, smashing an ant against the wall.
A smear of purple remained on his palm, which he wiped clean.
"Weird." Shrugging it off, he rejoined the group.
---
Later on, The argument between Mr. Cyril and Dede finally ended with a compromise splitting the team.
Since the dungeon had already been cleared, it seemed like the best solution.
Dede made the announcement.
"Due to certain circumstances, we'll split into two groups, one heading back to report to the Hunter Association and the other continuing the exploration."
His words carried a hint of reward, meant to entice.
Cyril watched carefully as the hunters made their choice.
Surprisingly, no one protested.
Fear was in the air, yet some were still greedy.
The group divided, eight with Cyril, sixteen with Dede.
Timothy glanced around, counting.
Four women stayed with Cyril, while seven joined Dede.
He noticed two hunters who originally sided with Cyril had defected to the other team.
Cyril sighed and gestured for his group to start moving.
Timothy was satisfied with his decision.
He trusted Cyril, and besides, today's earnings were already enough for him.
---
Barely twenty steps in, a voice whispered behind Cyril.
"Sir... I don't feel so good."
Cyril turned to see Matthew, a fair-skinned boy with an unusual confidence now replaced by exhaustion.
"What's wrong?" Cyril asked, his pace slowing.
"I... don't know," Matthew wheezed, his breathing labored.
The group halted. Another hunter approached.
"Is it serious?"
"I... don't know," Matthew repeated, slumping against the wall.
Cyril knelt beside him, inspecting his condition.
No visible injuries, but his body was ice-cold.
Then, Cyril's eyes narrowed.
A dark green vein stretched from Matthew's palm.
"Poison," Cyril muttered.
"Where's the healer?"
"With the other team!" someone shouted.
Cyril cursed.
They had to move fast.
Without hesitation, he lifted Matthew onto his back.
"Keep up!" he ordered the others before bolting toward Dede's group, his wind magic propelling him forward.
Timothy and the rest followed, struggling to keep up.
---
Meanwhile, outside the dungeon, chaos erupted.
The gate had suddenly shut itself with people still inside.
The Hunter Association had arrived, dozens of men in black suits, phones ringing nonstop, and government vehicles crowding the area.
Equipment was scattered across the ground, scanning for any sign of what went wrong.
Despite their advanced technology, no one had an answer.
The only certainty? Something inside had changed, and no one was getting out anytime soon.
"Madam, the gate anomaly happened without warning. There were no color changes or signs of clearance, it just collapsed and vanished," a man in a suit reported, standing beside a sleek black vehicle.
Nearby miners who had witnessed the event nodded in agreement.
The woman remained silent, absorbing the unsettling news.
---
Inside the Dungeon
"Yeah, an ant," one of the hunters muttered.
While waiting for the raid to conclude, they had noticed ants scurrying along the walls.
Now, the realization hit them, something was off.
Instinctively, everyone glanced around, their eyes catching the tiny creatures crawling along the damp tunnel.
Cyril took charge. "I'll go on ahead. Stay close behind me."
Despite his best efforts, Timothy struggled to keep up with the group, his E-rank status putting him at the back of the line.
Still, he pushed himself forward.
When they finally caught up to Dede's team, a sense of unease settled over them.
Cyril, having arrived earlier, looked calm, too calm.
Timothy approached him hesitantly.
"How's Matthew?"
"He's fine," Cyril replied, nodding toward the healer kneeling beside him, a sphere of water hovering gently over his body.
"Just a paralysis toxin. She can handle it."
Timothy exhaled in relief, watching the healer work.
Water affinity users were rare, but he'd seen a few in his time raiding dungeons.
His attention shifted to the real problem ahead, a fork in the tunnel.
No one seemed concerned about Matthew anymore.
Dede was busy sending scouts into the tunnels, hoping to find something worthwhile.
Timothy, however, couldn't shake his growing unease.
He turned to Matthew's friend, trying to strike up conversation. "Name's Tim. You?"
"Noah," the boy replied tersely.
"You from around here?"
Noah shot him an annoyed look.
"Yeah, I am."
Timothy sighed, realizing his attempt at small talk had failed.
"Alright, well... what's your plan? We're going deeper, and your friend doesn't look like he's in top shape."
"I'm not forming a team with you," Noah cut him off bluntly.
Timothy clenched his fists but said nothing.
Weak hunters like him were often overlooked and dismissed.
Personal alliances were rare in dungeons; survival was an individual game.
They stood in awkward silence until the scouts returned, reporting that only one of the three tunnels led anywhere, the others were dead ends.
---
The group gathered at the chosen path, standing before an imposing set of ancient doors.
Unlike the usual crude dungeon entrances, this one was intricate, almost regal.
It hinted at something valuable beyond.
Weapons were drawn instinctively.
Bows creaked, daggers flashed, and a heavily-armored hunter gripped his shield tightly.
Timothy reached into his bag, pulling out his two well-maintained kitchen knives.
They weren't much, but they were reliable.
Fancy gear makes you complacent, he reminded himself.
Survival was his priority.
Mr. Dede, grinning with anticipation, pressed a hand against the door.
Click.
BAM!
The doors swung open with eerie ease, revealing darkness within.
Timothy's stomach twisted.
"Why do I feel uneasy?" he muttered.
Noah smirked.
"It's called fear. Try not to let it get to you."
Timothy ignored him. This wasn't fear, it was something deeper.
A premonition.
After two years of barely scraping by in dungeons, he had learned to trust his instincts.
Everyone else entered without hesitation, but Timothy remained frozen at the threshold, staring at the intricate symbols carved into the doorframe.
They were ancient, too perfect, and pulsed with a faint energy
He hesitated, feeling like stepping through would be a decision he couldn't take back.
Why can't they sense it? The tension in the air?
With a deep breath, he took a step forward.
The doors slammed shut behind him.
...
Timothy stared at the massive doors, lost in thought.
They were carved with love, he mused absentmindedly.
Before he realized it, the doors were behind him.
He blinked, startled.
When did I step inside?
Panic welled up as he turned, but the entrance was shut tight.
Running to Matthew, he whispered urgently, "What happened?"
Matthew looked confused.
After Timothy explained, he simply shrugged.
"The door closed a while ago. Mr. Dede thinks it's some kind of puzzle, since there's no boss yet."
"No boss?" Timothy frowned.
"Yeah, nothing so far. Better start searching, or they'll cut your share," Matthew said before wandering off.
Noah, standing nearby, watched them silently but didn't say anything.
Timothy sighed in relief and took in his surroundings.
The hall was vast, easily big enough to hold 400 people, but eerily empty.
No structures, no furniture, just a circular void.