Dungeon & Commander (2)
Dealer Jo Mi-yeon and buffer Gim Geon-do didn't even glance at Kim Jun.
They couldn't stomach chatting with a powerless ordinary person. They hardly spoke to their own team's carrier, Lee Sang-seop, either.
Carriers were something anyone could do—just pick one up off the street and use them.
That was Jo Mi-yeon's and Gim Geon-do's mindset.
Kim Jun spotted Lee Sang-seop silently hugging the building's wall as he headed toward the back door.
His gaze fixed on the ground, shoulders slumped.
Things must not have gone well for him this year either.
Around the guildhouse, plenty of people like Lee Sang-seop dreamed of awakening and poured their all into each day. So-called trainees. Kim Jun was one of them, so Lee Sang-seop's expression hit close to home.
Choi Muhyun finally arrived, panting as he spoke.
"You're seriously fast."
"I held my pace back on purpose."
"Might as well kill me then."
Choi Muhyun whined.
The two shared a laugh and entered the guildhouse.
"We're here!"
As Choi Muhyun shouted, Go Cheolmin, who had been resetting the worn-out virtual reality simulator DXS, looked up.
"Early today."
"School let out early."
Kim Jun trailed right beside Choi Muhyun.
Go Cheolmin's brow furrowed at the sight of Kim Jun.
High schoolers—and sometimes even middle schoolers—would barge into the guildhouse after seeing famous raiders on TV.
To them, dungeons meant instant riches and fame above all else.
The problem was, they had zero clue how miserable a carrier's life truly was.
Go Cheolmin chased out every last one of those kids, fueled by their teenage passion.
Sometimes he even laid into them with harsh words.
Kim Jun was a first-year high schooler back then—two years ago, he'd shown up here declaring he wanted to be a carrier, only to get booted by Go Cheolmin. Go Cheolmin had laid out just how cold and brutal dungeons were, but Kim Jun wouldn't budge.
"Why're you here?"
Go Cheolmin asked icily, deliberately.
Today, he planned to really tear into him. Threaten if he had to.
For the kid's own good.
His fist clenched tight.
Kim Jun stepped forward and held out his college entrance exam score sheet.
Go Cheolmin reflexively unclenched and snatched it up—his eyes went wide.
Even if the test had gotten easier, with nearly ten perfect scores amid hundreds of thousands of test-takers, this was pure effort meeting luck.
"Keep your promise."
Kim Jun said, holding back his excitement.
"...Promise?"
Go Cheolmin faltered.
"You said if I got into Seoul National University, you'd let me into the guildhouse. Well, this isn't the acceptance letter, but."
"Th-that..."
Now he remembered.
Two years back, to the scrawny Kim Jun, he'd thrown out something like that. He often dangled such promises to stubborn kids who came boasting and wouldn't listen.
"This score gets me into Seoul National University."
Kim Jun stood taller than ever.
"Why not just go to SNU and live easy?"
Go Cheolmin knew this bullheaded kid wouldn't hear it. Two years had transformed his body beyond recognition, and now with a perfect score sheet in hand, there wasn't even an excuse to refuse.
"Thank you."
Kim Jun bowed his head.
"Your parents?"
"Keeping it secret for now."
No normal parents would cheer their kid becoming a carrier.
"You know carrier work isn't some college hobby, right?"
"Not going to college."
"What? Why?"
Go Cheolmin sounded as worked up as if it were his own kid.
"Because it's not easy, like you said, Master."
"Such a waste."
"I studied to be a carrier."
"You..."
Go Cheolmin shook his head.
He'd lost to the kid's resolve. How much grind had it taken? No way he could coldly shove him out now.
Go Cheolmin sighed and tossed Kim Jun a rag—clean the simulator. Handing the guild maknae his duties right off.
As Go Cheolmin headed to the master room, Choi Muhyun bounded over with a huge grin.
"Congrats, man."
"Thanks."
"What'd I do? All you."
"You helped. Told me every training drill to become a carrier."
"Then treat me."
"Kimbap and tteokbokki."
"Sweet."
Choi Muhyun grinned wide and headed to the locker room.
Choi Muhyun slipped into his tough training gear and stood before the three pitching machines.
His well-built muscles stood out sharply.
That inverted-triangle torso looked sturdy enough to block anything.
"Ready to start?"
He said to Kim Jun.
Kim Jun nodded and hauled over a box. The yellow plastic one brimmed with heavy, solid baseballs.
"What speed?"
"130."
Choi Muhyun replied.
Kim Jun set the pitching machine's speed and loaded the balls.
Max was 165 kilometers per hour.
Choi Muhyun took deep breaths to steady himself.
He nodded—Kim Jun hit the button and stepped aside. To watch his friend's skills up close.
Light poured from that massive frame. It drifted like fluffy clouds before spreading out and fading.
Bang.
The baseball rocketed out.
Choi Muhyun didn't dodge. If a tanker dodges, the dealers and buffers behind get hurt or die. Tankers deflect attacks or absorb the impact with their bodies.
Thud.
The ball smacked his shoulder, lofted into the air, then dropped—but Choi Muhyun's face didn't twitch. He even reached out and snagged the second one. He caught or swatted away five before glancing at Kim Jun.
Kim Jun's eyes were huge.
Choi Muhyun got a thrill from that awed look. Nothing beat Kim Jun's approval.
Kim Jun flashed a thumbs-up.
"Bump it to 140."
Choi Muhyun just nodded casually.
The balls were definitely faster now—and curves started appearing.
Straight then sudden drop, or wild hooks that messed with timing. After nearly thirty minutes of taking them, he cranked it to 150.
Now too fast to grab.
At 155, one nailed him square in the face. He shook his head and called it quits.
As the sweat-soaked Choi Muhyun headed to the showers, Kim Jun gathered the scattered balls and refilled the box.
About to haul it back, he scanned the area.
No one's around.
He swallowed hard, approached the machine, loaded a ball, and set it to 130.
The brief wait for the ball felt endlessly long.
Whirring gears. Friction whine.
The black muzzle's sheer menace.
His heart felt ready to burst.
Thwack!
Spotting the ball piercing the dark, Kim Jun flattened to the ground.
A vicious whoosh as it passed overhead. Facing it head-on versus watching from the side—the difference was night and day.
Kim Jun mustered his courage.
How hard had he fought to get into this guild? How badly did he crave this training?
As a carrier in a dungeon, even maximum caution meant exposure to attacks. Survival boiled down to dodging that one hit.
Just one dodge!
The ball grazed his shoulder the instant it became visible. Then the second hurtled in.
His chest went ice-cold.
If he hadn't lunged aside, his ribs would've shattered.
Slumped on the ground, Kim Jun stared at the passing 130 km/h balls. Even 130 packed this punch—blocking 150 with his body...
He felt anew just how incredible Choi Muhyun's power was.
And naturally, how much he regretted lacking it himself.
If only I could awaken—no more of this grind.
But awakening didn't happen on demand.
Korea's youngest awakener, Lee Hwan, had levitated a spoon and fork with telekinesis at just seven. He aced the awakening test the next day with record scores, skyrocketed from there—named Raider of the Year three times, pulling over 10 billion won in salary alone, with side gigs multiplying that. Top young man everyone envied.
Even that powerhouse was still a sapling before the mighty oak Yoo Wan-seop. Korea's number-one raider, topping Weekly Raider's pick for 154 straight weeks—the undisputed strongest hunter.
Folks said Lee Hwan would claim the throne someday, but for now, he was just a challenger lurking in Yoo Wan-seop's shadow.
"Ditch the sandbags on your wrists and ankles. Give it a shot."
Go Cheolmin had snuck up behind him.
"Pardon? Oh, right."
Kim Jun inwardly wondered how he'd known, then removed the hefty sandbags.
He stepped up to the machine.
"Wavering mind blurs vision, slows reactions. Fear shifts your body to brace and soften the blow over dodging. So never fear—no matter what."
"Got it, Master."
Easier said than done. Tougher than "naturally, like always."
Kim Jun shook out his arms and legs.
"Here it goes."
Go Cheolmin headed to the machine.
Kim Jun locked onto that black muzzle with total focus.
At first, guildmaster-watching nerves dominated. But staring into the hole erased his position, the guildmaster nearby—everything.
To run long distances while holding stamina, clear the mind. Kim Jun had learned that from marathons.
The ball launched.
Insanely fast—body barely reacted.
Thankfully, he shifted weight to his right leg and twisted his left shoulder back.
It grazed his left side as his body spun.
The second targeted his right knee.
He spread his right leg wide to let it pass between. Simple move, but holding steady as a 130 km/h ball zipped through—mentally draining.
The third flew at his forehead.
Faster than expected—he leaned back, too late. Instinct kicked in; he elbowed it aside.
The ball veered sharply, slamming the net.
No juice left for the next. He'd burned it all on the last.
Go Cheolmin, standing nearby, extended a foot and shoved Kim Jun's side clear of the path.
"...Sorry, Master."
Kim Jun staggered to his feet.
Choi Muhyun emerged from the shower, towel-drying his hair, and approached with a curious look.
"What happened?"
"Muhyun, check the pitching machine."
"Huh? Okay."
While Choi Muhyun ducked behind the partition, Go Cheolmin sized up Kim Jun.
Body honed to perfection—no excess fat. Those fine twitch muscles screamed endurance. Explosiveness plus stamina—no carrier could match this talent.
Even more impressive: his instinctive fear response.
Earlier, leaving the master room for a smoke at the front gate, Go Cheolmin had spotted Kim Jun facing a flying ball and froze in shock.
A bare body hit at that speed would snap bones. And these training balls? Heavier, impact way worse than standard.
He'd planned a stinging rebuke, but Kim Jun's dodge left him speechless. Flustered, sure—but awkward motion overshadowed raw fear.
That's when Go Cheolmin clocked the sandbags. He cracked a rare smile.
The law of crazy bastard conservation—magnificent!
No matter how many normals content with daily life, the total number of crazies stays constant.
"Looks fine. Totally normal."
Choi Muhyun returned, towel slung over his shoulder.
"If this guy dodged those balls, you buying it?"
"No way. How's a normie dodging 155?"
Choi Muhyun chuckled and chucked his wet towel at Kim Jun.
In the guildhouse, carriers weren't just the baby—they were the dogsbody, handling every dirty chore.
"Think I'd lie?"
"...No."
Choi Muhyun's face hardened.
Go Cheolmin's brutal honesty was legendary. A female celeb came for a guild experience, fled in tears after two hours. Network PD begged—no dice. Next celeb cried too.
"Go crank it to max."
"Pardon?"
"Now."
At Go Cheolmin's dead-serious tone, Choi Muhyun trudged over reluctantly and adjusted the speed.
Go Cheolmin stepped to the baffled Kim Jun and snatched the wet towel.
"Like before."
"Felt like 130."
"155—and you slipped it smooth."
"But I..."
"You can do it. And nail this? Next year, you're dungeon carrier material. I guarantee. Deal?"
"Ah!"
Kim Jun, fired up by the dungeon promise, stepped into the path. Felt his body tense, shut his eyes, shrugged tension from his shoulders.
Go Cheolmin marveled inwardly.
Plenty of pros dominated practice but bombed in real games.
Mind over body.
Neglect mental training, and real combat exposes you.
This kid was the reverse.
Stronger in the clutch than drills. Might shine even brighter in a dungeon.
"Starting."
Choi Muhyun said, glancing around.
Ball blasted out. Too fast for "fast" thoughts. Straight shot—skimmed past Kim Jun's elbow.
Lucky break. Stood stock-still, it missed. One step left? Arm pulverized.
"Focus!"
Go Cheolmin barked.
Kim Jun slapped his own cheek. Before the smack echoed, second ball incoming.
Left side!!
Kim Jun flowed his center over, opening his left shoulder. His shirt tore at the seam—no direct hit.
"Quicker!"
Third dove for his gut.
Ankles locked—he leaped. Height irrelevant; agility ruled. Legs splayed mid-air.
The blistering 165 km/h ball whistled right under his crotch.
"Hahaha! Ten centimeters lower jump, and you'd never man up proper!"
The guildmaster cackled.
Fourth was a breaker. Aimed shoulder, dropped to lower chest. Around 155, still ferocious.
Kim Jun rolled aside, gasping.
"...Can't do more."
"Muhyun, cut it."
Go Cheolmin said.