A Dog's Rise?... Bullshit
Soaring like a dog?... Bullshit. That day wasn't much different from usual. I woke up early in my cramped single room, barely big enough for one person, got ready in a rush, and headed out the door. I ran into the landlord in the hallway and got into an argument over rent, but aside from that, it was just the same old daily grind repeating itself.
Right after that, I caught a packed bus from the stop near my place and made my way to the manpower office. The office, filled with ordinary folks who hadn't been chosen by "it," was bustling with people signing up as porters that day too. I was just one of the many. Unlike the endless supply of porters, the number of dungeons spawning each day was limited, so not everyone could land a job. If your luck was bad, you'd often spend the whole day waiting only to head home empty-handed.
But today, my luck was unusually good. Thanks to a recommendation from a staff member I'd known for a while, I snagged a spot and cheered inwardly. Compared to the usual hours of waiting, this felt like a stroke of divine luck. Plus, the dungeon's rank was a balanced D-rank—neither too high nor too low. Everything about the day screamed good fortune.
After meeting up with the small client party in front of the dungeon, we entered right away. I slung the massive backpack over my shoulder, thinking I could pick up some side work if we finished early. But things in this world rarely go that smoothly.
The party pushed through the cave-like dungeon, steadily hunting down the beasts blocking our path. We rode that momentum straight to the boss, only to hit a frustrating snag. The gate leading to the boss stage was a special locked type. Unlike ordinary gates, these required fulfilling specific conditions inside the dungeon. In other words, instead of charging straight to the boss, we'd have to scour every inch of this maze-like place. A small party that came for a mere D-rank dungeon had no chance of pulling that off. Giving up the raid wasn't an option either—we'd lose everything we'd invested to claim ownership of the dungeon. So the party ended up stuck in front of the boss room, unable to move forward or back.
"This fucking shit! Do you know how much money we spent clearing this place? Goddamn it, seriously..."
The first to let his rage show was the party's leader, a middle-aged man. It was a normal reaction—his investment and effort were vanishing before his eyes in an instant. But I instinctively hunched down and tried to make myself as small as possible. This was pure survival instinct honed from years as a porter. Whenever something went wrong or tempers flared inside a dungeon, porters were always the first targets for venting.
Party members might argue among themselves, but it rarely escalated to fists. Everyone knew what kind of disaster internal conflict could cause in a dungeon where life and death hung in the balance. So they unleashed their pent-up anger on the porters instead—easy targets who couldn't fight back. It was unfair, but what could the weak do except endure it? The strong made the rules, and the weak had to keep their heads down.
Since this kind of thing happened more than once or twice a week, I handled it pretty well. But everyone has their limits. If the angry person was deliberately looking for a weak victim from the start, there was no escaping it. When those bloodshot, terrifying eyes locked onto me, I knew I was screwed.
This fucking bastard. It's not my fault this dungeon spawned this way, is it? He's just taking out his bad luck on someone else, and I'm the one who has to take it. If I'd actually cursed him out of spite, maybe I'd deserve it, but the sheer injustice of it all made my blood boil. Still, voicing those feelings would only make the hot-headed hunter angrier. Years of experience had taught me that. I swallowed every curse I could think of and clenched my teeth.
At least we were far from the dungeon entrance—he probably wouldn't break any bones. I clung to that small comfort and braced myself for what was coming.
As expected, the man sheathed his greatsword at his waist and slowly approached. That twisted, demonic smile on his face stood out especially.
"Hey... why the hell are you looking at me with those unlucky eyes? You think I'm an easy target, huh?"
I hadn't actually been staring at him. He just needed an excuse to justify what he was about to do. Knowing that didn't change anything. I watched him clench his massive fist and prepare to swing, then squeezed my eyes shut.
But the blow never landed. What stopped him wasn't a hand—it was a desperate shout from someone who sounded like they were about to pass out.
"Boss! Boss!!! Get over here quick!! There's something huge over here!"
"What the...? Why's he yelling like that again? Ha... my mood's already complete shit..."
The voice belonged to another party member we'd sent out to scout earlier. He was leaning out from behind a corner in the distance, breathing hard like he'd run the whole way. I couldn't see his expression clearly, but his urgent tone had everyone's attention—including the man in front of me.
In that moment of crisis, he was like a savior. But I couldn't help worrying about something else. Shouting like that deep inside a dungeon, without even securing the area first... it was incredibly reckless. The young man looked like a rookie with little experience. Normally, his teammates should've scolded him, but no one did. They just looked mildly annoyed that he'd interrupted their rest. That told me everything—this was a low-level party that only tackled minor dungeons.
Having worked as a porter for a long time and seen higher-level dungeons, their every move made me nervous. But pointing it out would only earn me more hostility. As the absolute lowest in the hierarchy, all I could do was avoid upsetting them.
Since everyone knew there was nothing left to do here, the decision came quickly. Exhausted from the fight, the party placed their hopes on the scout's discovery and headed in that direction. Moments later, when we arrived, everyone stood frozen with wide eyes and open mouths. I was no different.
Embedded in the dead-end wall were countless ores glowing with a brilliant red light. The moment I recognized what they were, shock hit me like a truck. They were magic stones—rare materials usually found only in small quantities deep inside monster bodies. Their formation process was still unknown, but they contained massive amounts of energy and had become the primary replacement for dwindling fossil fuels and nuclear power. They were the main source of income for hunters raiding dungeons, so the pile in front of us was literally worth its weight in gold.
I had no idea why so many magic stones were buried in the cave wall like this. But one thing was certain: if we could get them out safely, we'd be set for life. The party leader's eyes, which had been filled with frustration just moments ago, now blazed with raw greed. He'd completely lost it. He rushed toward the ores like he wanted to lick them and shouted frantically.
"Hey... hey hey!!! Si-yeon! Get over here and check this! Are these really magic stones?!"
He called out to a young woman standing among the other party members, his eyes bloodshot. She looked half out of her mind too, but snapped to attention at his call and hurried over. The innocent-looking young woman was the party's mage. With trembling hands, she touched a fragment of the ore, examined it for a long while, then spoke with a face full of shock.
"...No doubt about it. All of these are magic stones. And this clarity... they're definitely high-grade!"
The other party members gasped at her stunned voice. This much volume, this high purity— even at the lowest estimate, they were worth billions. After taxes, each person would still walk away with hundreds of millions. Everyone here was reeling from the sudden windfall. Me included.
Even with a porter's small share, I'd still get at least a hundred million. Thud. Unable to process the situation, I dropped the backpack I'd been carrying without thinking. Me—the guy who could barely afford to eat—suddenly getting this kind of money? It didn't feel real. It was like a golden rope had been lowered in front of someone wandering through hell. For a moment, I even thought all the suffering and humiliation I'd endured until now had been leading to this exact moment.
"......"
When ordinary people receive an unexpected stroke of luck, they often can't accept it right away. I'd heard that somewhere before. Back then, I didn't understand it. But now, in this moment, I felt it with every fiber of my being.
Yet as time slowly passed, the reality in front of me started to sink in. Once the dam broke, the thoughts came flooding out and quickly filled my mind. First, I should find a decent place to live on my own. Then, with enough capital, I could look for stable work. A peaceful, secure life. Reclaiming the everyday existence this damn disaster had stolen from me. The key to all of it was right in front of me.
Like someone in a trance, I unconsciously reached out my arm. That was why I didn't notice. The dangerous gaze that had been fixed on me since earlier...
The price of letting my guard down was brutal.
Swish!
"...Huh? Aaaagh!!!"
The greatsword flew like lightning, tracing a clean arc and slicing deep into my leg. It didn't sever it completely, but blood gushed out like a flood from the deep wound. Standing was impossible in this state. Like a puppet with its strings cut, I collapsed onto the cold floor, groaning in pain as I slowly looked up.
There stood the party leader, his sword dripping with blood, staring down at me. The moment our eyes met—his filled with bloodlust and greed—I understood exactly what was happening. The horrific end awaiting me played out clearly in my mind.
In the terrible silence where no one spoke, the sound of blood dripping from his sword was more chilling than ever.