Dungeon Bosses Are My Pets — Prologue

"Alright, everyone, move carefully. A cleared gate doesn't mean the floor is safe all the way through."

The voice of the Awakening Management Bureau's field supervisor echoed through the gate's interior.

This was a cleared gate.

It meant the boss monster inside had been killed and the core of the rift had stabilized into a secure space. To put it simply, all the danger had already been dealt with — all that remained was to go in and collect the rewards and byproducts.

Byproducts separated from monster corpses. Broken equipment. Mana stone fragments. Rare minerals clinging to the gate walls. And the small odds and ends the strike team had left behind. Gathering and sorting all of it was money too.

It had been ten years since the first gate opened. Humanity hadn't just learned how to kill monsters anymore. They'd gotten pretty good at turning monsters into money as well.

"Hey, mana stone fragment over here."

"That one's cracked."

"Cracked still pays for dinner. Bag it."

"This is really safe, right?"

"It's safe — that's why we brought a trainee like you along."

The workers moved with relaxed faces. Someone cracked a joke, someone yawned behind their mask, and a few were getting chewed out for slacking off. It was a far cry from real tension, but that was fair enough. This gate had been cleared cleanly, and there wasn't a single dangerous thing left in it.

"Mr. Lee Ji-hoon."

The supervisor turned his head.

"Yes?"

Ji-hoon looked up from his collection tongs.

"Don't be too nervous just because it's your first time. Think of this as a training exercise."

"Yes, I know."

"Even an F-rank can handle this kind of work. Just don't go wandering ahead of the group for no reason."

"Understood."

Even as he said it, Ji-hoon's gaze drifted deeper into the gate — toward the path leading to the boss room. The boss was already dead, its core had been recovered, and the system message announcing the clear had already appeared. And yet.

"...Why does it keep smelling like that?"

A smell that could never drift through an Earth gate.

The damp, weedy scent of the farm behind the Demon King's castle. The smell of fur brushed every morning inside the pens of Hell Farm.

Just then, a sound like wind rose through the air.

Vuuuuuuuum.

The supervisor furrowed his brow.

"What was that?"

"A sudden wind, sir—"

"A wind?"

Before the supervisor could even assess the situation, a blue fissure tore itself open in front of him.

"Wh-wh-wha—what the hell!?"

Ding—

"Reactivating?"

"What are you talking about? Why would a cleared gate reopen?"

"Everyone, get outside! Now!"

"Get the standby hunters down here!"

Vuuuuuum—

Kugugugung—!

The gate's mana churned violently, shaking as though it might spiral out of control at any moment.

"Bureau situation room! Small gate reactivation! I repeat — a CLEARED gate is reactivating!"

Before the supervisor's radio call had even finished, a colossal shadow ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠loomed up from the direction of the boss room.

KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!

Everyone assumed it was the roar of a monster.

"Run!"

"It's the boss!"

"Oh my god, the boss was alive!"

"Did it resurrect or something?"

"Doesn't matter! RUN!"

Everyone bolted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for the exit.

"Trainee Lee Ji-hoon! Move, fast!"

"...."

"I said run, you crazy— fine, die if you want!"

Even as his coworker's curses rang in his ears, Ji-hoon simply stood there. His eyes were fixed on the inside of the boss room.

"That's not a roar."

It was a cry.

A sound he had listened to for a hundred years. The signal he'd heard every single day at Hell Farm behind the Demon King's castle.

The one who never cried first even when it was starving. The one who always looked after its Hell Farm little siblings before itself. And after all that, the one who — the moment it caused some disaster — would start bawling before anyone even had a chance to scold it.

"Poppi...?"

It was the voice of Hell Farm's eldest — the one who'd overturned its food bowl and then cried first out of sheer fear of getting in trouble.

Chapter 1.

It had been ten years.

Ten years of Earth time had passed by the time Ji-hoon returned to the planet.

The problem was that for him, it hadn't been ten years.

"...It's been a hundred years."

Hell. The Hell Farm sitting within it. A hundred years as its farm manager.

Not ten years. A hundred. A hundred whole years!

A hundred years spent feeding, bathing, soothing, tucking in, and walking the Demon King's pet monsters; cleaning up after their disasters; and occasionally taking the punishment on the Demon King's behalf.

Ji-hoon remembered every second of it.

And the moment he returned to Earth, the first place he went was the Awakening Management Bureau.

A reunion with his parents? Of course that happened too. But the instant the reunion ended, who came knocking? The Korea Awakening Management Bureau, that's who.

"You are a returnee — missing for ten years, now back among us."

Returnee? Ten years?

Ji-hoon, still dizzy from arriving back barely a day ago, got a brief rundown from the bureau staffer. Ten years ago, mana had appeared on Earth, gates had opened, hunters had awakened, and some of the missing had been whisked away to other worlds to train — those were the returnees. Returnees, the staffer explained, tended to possess abilities superior to ordinary hunters. And, they added with admirable honesty, the reason they were approaching him was the possibility he might turn out to be a high-rank awakened.

"Could you tell us where you spent the last ten years?"

"Ah... what sort of adventures do returnees usually have?"

"All kinds. Some lived in the martial world of Murim, some spent their years as mages in medieval fantasy worlds, and some worked as cyber-engineering specialists in SF settings."

Wow. Just hearing it sounds impressive.

"I..."

Ji-hoon scratched his head with an awkward face. How was he supposed to explain this? Murim? Fantasy? Cyberpunk? Honestly, if he'd gone to any of those, he'd have gotten off easy!

Am I even allowed to say I came back from Hell?

Ten years ago, he'd been kidnapped, plain and simple. Missing? No — straight-up abducted. He'd been walking down the street when someone grabbed his shoulder and dragged him away. And when he opened his eyes — Hell.

Not as a metaphor. Actual, literal Hell. H-E-L-L, capital H.

Some doomed bastard who was apparently the Demon King asked him a few questions, forced him to sign a contract, and put him to work raising demons and magic beasts. Griffins, Behemoths, Giant Bears, Jormungandr — there was even a dragon. But if he said any of that out loud, he'd be treated as a lunatic, one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hundred percent.

"Uh... I also lived in a fantasy world, raising monsters... no, I mean, animals."

"Oh! Then you're a Tamer! Tamers are a rare ability. See! I knew reaching out to you early was the right call!"

Following the suddenly-excited bureau staffer, Ji-hoon stood with his parents in front of the bureau's mana assessment system.

"You don't have to do this, Ji-hoon."

"That's right, they say all that hunter stuff wrecks your body. Come on, let's go get some chicken."

So their fried chicken place was still going strong, huh.

Ji-hoon gave a light smile.

"You haven't developed some weird new menu item, have you? Like, say, mint chocolate seasoning chicken?"

"How did you know? It's actually pretty popular. All the YouTubers have been coming by."

"They call it a bizarre food but eat it with such gusto that I give each of them a free piece for being so dedicated!"

Why on earth would you make something like that, and why are you giving it away for FREE, Mom and Dad!?

Ji-hoon swallowed the words down hard. He'd just had a touching reunion, after all. He couldn't go dumping ashes on it.

"If you finish the test well, I'll make you mint chocolate seasoning chicken."

"That's my boy! Do your best, son!"

...Unbelievable. These people.

"I'm NOT eating that!"

"Aw, why not!"

"It's delicious — you just don't know what you're missing—"

More nonsense. Still, he turned around to look.

His mother was smiling, but the corners of her eyes were wet. His father turned his head away with an unnecessary cough.

Only then did it truly hit Ji-hoon. He was really back. Even after so long apart, they were unmistakably his mom and dad.

He smiled faintly and followed the bureau staffer's guidance.

A returnee, back after ten years. For the bureau, this was the first case of its kind, which was why the reception desk handled him with unusual care.

"Mr. Lee Ji-hoon, the returnee baseline exam was completed yesterday. Today we'll be conducting your awakening rank assessment and trait verification."

"Understood."

"If anything feels uncomfortable during the tests, let us know immediately."

"Of course."

The testing was simpler than he'd expected. Mana response measurement. Physical capability measurement. Sensory reaction measurement. Trait manifestation verification. The results came back quickly.

The examiner looked down at the paperwork. Once. Twice. Three times. Then he looked up at Ji-hoon with an awkward expression.

"Mr. Lee Ji-hoon."

"Yes."

"You have awakened, first of all."

"Oh, good. And my skill?"

"Your skill is Taming."

"That worked out. Is the rank high?"

The examiner paused.

Relax, it can't be C or D, right? After grinding in Hell for a hundred years, at least a B should come up.

"I won't be disappointed. Even a decent B is more than enough to make a living without any trou—"

"F-rank."

Did he mishear that?

"F-rank?"

"Yes. Total mana capacity, physical enhancement rate, and reaction coefficient are all F-rank."

"Then I can't do anything dangerous, right?"

"Combat work is out of the question."

The examiner flipped the page.

"Your trait, Taming, is rare, to be fair... but..."

"But?"

"F-rank Taming is extremely limited in practice. It's generally classified as an affinity for small monsters or low-risk creatures."

"Ah-ha."

Ji-hoon nodded along.

"So to summarize: a completely useless awakening! Got it."

"Well... yes, that is the case. But no need to be discouraged! Many returnees carve out thriving careers in their own fields by making the most of their traits! Especially summoners—"

And so the bureau staffer, while pretending to console him, earnestly spun tale after tale of golden futures — all about other people.

"But I'm not that guy, am I?"

"That's..."

"It's fine. Thank you."

Ji-hoon turned quickly, intending to head straight back to the waiting room where his parents were. Go eat some chicken. Skip the mint chocolate seasoning — just plain fried.

That was when it happened.

A window appeared before Lee Ji-hoon's eyes. Not one raised by the bureau's measuring equipment. Not the hunter registration system either. A system message that only he could see — accompanied by a very familiar name.

"Abel...!"

The Demon King who tormented me in Hell! The landlord of Hell Farm!

You followed me all the way back to Earth, and now you're meddling here too? And what was that, exactly?

"SS+ my frozen ass. I'm going to KILL him, for real!"

"Ji-Ji-Ji-hoon, sir?"

"What's with the F-rank, is that supposed to be a joke?!"

"Sir...?"

"Hah... hah... my apologies."

Just a face belonging to a friend who's basically my sworn enemy floated to mind, that's all.

At Ji-hoon's outburst, the bureau staffer took slow, careful steps backward.

"If you're all right, we could go over the additional explanations—"

"Ah, yes. By the way, why are you standing so far away? Come closer."

"Ah, this distance is quite comfortable for me, haha, hahaha."

What's with this weirdo?

"Ahem. In any case, an F-rank assessment can be quite a shock, but we do have a returnee support program. No matter how low your rank, we help you gain access to gates."

"Oh?"

"An initial settlement grant is provided, and you can take vocational training and participate in low-risk field practicums."

Not bad, actually? It might beat fumbling around with odd jobs. He needed to make money first, after all. He hadn't been on Earth for ten years. His resident registration was still alive, but his life had been on pause. He needed a new phone, new clothes, and the hospital checkup fees alone were nothing to sneeze at.

Most of all, there were his parents. After ten more years, it was about time they started thinking about retirement.

So — he needed money.

"Is there something I can start right away?"

"Sorry?"

"Something not dangerous. Something even an F-rank can do."

"Ah... there is, actually."

The examiner tapped at his terminal a few times.

"There's the salvage practicum in cleared gates."

"Salvage practicum?"

"You enter a gate that's already been officially cleared and collect byproducts and mana stone fragments. You participate under trainee status with a supervisor accompanying you. The danger level is honestly low enough that a civilian could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do it."

"And the pay?"

"There's a base training stipend, plus a small incentive based on collection volume."

"I'll do it."

"Right now?"

"Yes."

The examiner made a slightly troubled face.

"Mr. Lee Ji-hoon, you only just returned yesterday. You could rest for a few days before starting."

"I'm fine."

"Your physical condition—"

"Really, I'm fine."

This is a guy who slept on straw bales in the Demon King's castle, you know.

He'd once pulled three all-nighters in a row managing Jormungandr's molting at Hell Farm. A salvage practicum was a walk in the park. A cakewalk, even.

Probably.

"Then you'll need to complete the safety orientation first."

The examiner held out a document.

Ji-hoon picked up the pen.

"What are the precautions?"

"First: follow the supervisor's orders without exception."

"Yes."

"Second: do not remove any items that haven't been approved for collection."

"Yes."

"Third: do not enter the boss room."

"Understood."

That afternoon, Ji-hoon received his trainee work uniform and equipment. A gray vest. Salvage gloves. A basic mask. And a pair of collection tongs to hang at his waist.

"Mr. Lee Ji-hoon! We're moving out!"

The supervisor called for him. Ji-hoon looked at the system window one more time, then slowly nodded.

"Let's go."

The cleared gate salvage practicum. And so was decided the first official activity of F-rank returnee Lee Ji-hoon.

And that day — in a room that had been officially declared free of its boss —

Ji-hoon would hear, once again, a cry he had never once forgotten in a hundred years.