The moment Mujin stepped through the dungeon gate, the world shifted.
His stomach twisted, his vision blurred, and for a brief second, it felt like he was falling through an endless void. Then—solid ground. The air was damp and heavy with the scent of decay. Shadows stretched unnaturally along jagged stone walls, illuminated by the flickering glow of bioluminescent fungi.
A cave.
The dungeon was deeper than he expected. The ceiling arched high overhead, lined with clusters of hanging stalactites like the fangs of a great beast. The ground beneath his feet was uneven, slick with something he didn't want to think about.
The rest of the group was already moving, their weapons drawn.
"Stay close," Kyung-hoon muttered as he fell in beside Mujin. His knuckles were white against the hilt of his dagger.
The leader, the woman in dark combat gear, took point. She raised a hand, signaling for silence.
Mujin listened.
At first, there was nothing. Just the faint drip of water from the cavern ceiling. Then—scratching.
It came from ahead, deep within the darkness. A dry, chittering noise, like claws scraping against stone.
Something was waiting for them.
The scarred man grunted. "Tch. Goblins."
Mujin tightened his grip on his spear. He had never fought a monster before. Not a real one. But he had seen footage—Hunters tearing through goblins like paper, their system-enhanced bodies moving too fast for the creatures to react.
But Mujin wasn't a Hunter.
And he didn't have a system.
The leader gestured, and the group moved forward, slow and methodical. The cave widened, revealing a chamber littered with bones. And in the center of it—
They came.
From the tunnels, from the shadows, from the cracks in the walls. Dozens of hunched figures with green, leathery skin and jagged teeth. Their eyes gleamed with hunger, crude weapons clutched in their gnarled hands.
Then, they screamed.
The first goblin lunged—
Steel flashed.
The scarred man stepped forward, his sword cutting through flesh with practiced ease. A goblin's head flew, its body collapsing before it even understood it was dead.
Gunfire erupted. The mercenaries fought like animals, hacking, shooting, crushing.
Mujin's pulse thundered in his ears. His body wanted to freeze. But he forced himself forward, gripping his spear like a lifeline.
A goblin rushed him. Fast. Too fast.
Mujin barely dodged, stumbling back as the creature's rusted blade slashed past his ribs. Pain flared—a shallow cut, but enough to burn.
The goblin screeched and lunged again.
Mujin reacted.
His spear shot forward, a desperate thrust aimed at the goblin's chest. The steel tip struck true, sinking into flesh—
But it wasn't deep enough.
The goblin snarled, clawed hands wrapping around the spear shaft, trying to rip it from his grip. Mujin gritted his teeth, planting his feet, shoving forward with everything he had.
The spear tore through the goblin's ribcage. A wet gasp—then silence.
The body slumped. Mujin pulled his weapon free, hands shaking.
He had killed.
No time to think.
Another goblin rushed him. Mujin moved, faster this time. His spear spun, slicing through its throat in a single motion. His muscles burned, his breath came ragged, but he kept going.
Again.
And again.
Each kill was easier than the last.
By the time the chamber fell silent, Mujin stood amidst the corpses, his body slick with sweat, his weapon coated in blood.
He exhaled.
The others stared at him.
Kyung-hoon looked surprised. The scarred man just grunted. The leader, however, studied Mujin with new interest.
"You're not useless after all," she murmured.
Mujin said nothing.
He just tightened his grip on his spear—
And prepared for whatever came next.