Pushing the Limits
Kim Jun sat alone in the waiting room. He would wait here until a nurse came to lead him away for blood draws or to stand in front of some unnamed machine and bare his body for inspection.
The doctors here never explained what tests they were running or what the results meant. From their stony expressions, he could only guess that there wasn't anything seriously wrong.
Kim Jun kept glancing toward the entrance. At the sound of the door opening, he shot to his feet.
"Boss!"
Kang Jin-gu gave a wry smile at Kim Jun's delighted greeting. The kid was waiting for me.
"What boss."
Kim Jun got a close look at Kang Jin-gu as he sat down beside him. He looked a decade older. It hurt to see.
If Kang Jin-gu hadn't been there when he first joined Uramata Guild, he never would have adjusted properly.
A brief silence fell.
"A dungeon's about to open soon," Kim Jun said.
Kang Jin-gu said nothing. Only the muscle in his cheek twitched violently.
Kim Jun broke the long silence.
"Raid 200—you've gotta fill it."
Kang Jin-gu let out a sudden bark of laughter. He hadn't expected Kim Jun to bring that up.
"I'm working security at an apartment complex these days. Pay's crap, but it's not bad. My body's still holding up. The moment I miraculously crawled out of there alive, I made up my mind. Never going back to that darkness again."
The laughter faded.
In its place was a suppressed sorrow. After a lifetime as a carrier, quitting cold turkey couldn't feel right.
Kim Jun clamped his mouth shut. He strained to keep tears from welling up.
Kang Jin-gu reached out with his thick, callused hand and ruffled Kim Jun's hair.
"You're something else. Too good to waste as a carrier. If you were my son, I might've broken your legs with a stick to stop you."
"Good thing I'm not."
They both burst out laughing.
The nurse approached.
"Mr. Kang Jin-gu."
Grunting as he stood, Kang Jin-gu looked at Kim Jun.
"Let's grab some soju later."
"Sure, boss."
"Not boss."
"You'll always be boss to me."
Kang Jin-gu's lips trembled. He opened his mouth wide in a yawn.
"Why am I so sleepy? Didn't sleep last night, I guess?"
Making excuses, he wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand and followed the nurse into the exam room.
Left alone, Kim Jun hung his head. His chest ached—not just hurt, but throbbed.
This could be him in thirty years. A veteran with nearly 200 raids under his belt, working apartment security. If he'd awakened, the Dungeon Association, corporations, universities—they'd all be fighting over him.
He didn't regret choosing to enter dungeons as a carrier. Not yet. Would he later?
His heart churned.
But running away? Not a chance.
A young nurse approached.
"This way."
Kim Jun stood.
Wearing an oxygen mask, Kim Jun had been running on the treadmill for two hours straight.
Sweat dripped onto the belt, but the VO2 max test showed no signs of ending. His body was soaked.
Turning his head slightly, he saw the young doctor scribbling on a chart.
Huff huff, this is brutal. Wasn't like this last checkup. Why this test? Something wrong with my body? Hope no side effects.
"Huff... huff."
His breaths came ragged. His vision tinted yellow. His legs had been heavy for ages. Quit circled his mind.
No way!
The moment he steeled himself, his body—especially his legs—felt strangely at ease. Like cool water quenching unbearable thirst, a refreshing energy spread through him.
O Won-jin, watching the monitor's exercise intensity and oxygen levels, widened his eyes.
What the...? He hit his limit zone.
VO2 max measures maximum oxygen uptake per kg of body weight per minute (ml), closely tied to endurance. An average adult male scores in the 40s; Korea's top marathoners hit mid-80s.
If the machine was fine, Kim Jun's was at least 90.
Even more shocking: he'd plateaued around 70... then it spiked. Like his body shattered the limit.
Then Kim Jun stumbled, nearly falling off the treadmill.
Doctor O Won-jin hurried over.
"You okay?"
"...Yeah."
"Tough, huh?"
"How much longer?"
"Just a bit more, please."
O Won-jin stepped to the window and pulled out his phone. He called Section Chief Hong Mun-hak, but it just rang. He buzzed the nurse and whispered.
"Tell the chief Kim Jun's VO2 max test is almost done."
"Yes, doctor."
The nurse headed into the hall.
She returned shortly.
"He's in a meeting."
"...Got it."
O Won-jin bit his lip. He wanted to end it, but Hong Mun-hak might nitpick.
Then his phone rang.
"Chief!"
"My office. Now."
"...Yes, chief."
O Won-jin handed Kim Jun to the nurse and rushed to the chief's office.
"Sit."
O Won-jin perched on the sofa's edge.
Hong Mun-hak spoke.
"I've been hearing things about you, Dr. O. Not good things."
O Won-jin paled in shock.
"Keep this up, and you'll have to leave the hospital."
"P-please, one chance. I'll do my best."
"Hm, that enthusiasm. Willing to do anything?"
"Anything!"
Leaning forward, Hong Mun-hak lowered his voice.
"I don't like that punk. Cocky bastard. Needs a harsh lesson."
"Wh-who...?"
"The carrier you're testing. Keep the VO2 max going. Until he drops. Who does he think he is, a carrier acting big?"
"B-but it's almost done."
"Keep going."
"But..."
"If he walks out, you walk out too."
Hong Mun-hak said coldly.
Returning to the test room, O Won-jin stared at Kim Jun still running.
He had all the data.
Test over.
But he couldn't stop.
Approaching Kim Jun, O Won-jin pretended to check the chart. He couldn't meet his eyes.
"...Your VO2 max is elite athlete level. Hasn't peaked yet—raise the incline? And, uh, need a blood draw. Won't hurt much."
His voice didn't shake, thankfully.
Too exhausted to reply, Kim Jun didn't suspect a thing.
The treadmill's front rose. A small change, but to Kim Jun, it felt like flat ground turning to a steep trail.
His breathing grew harsher.
"Doctor."
The nurse whispered beside him.
O Won-jin glanced at her.
"Exceeded recommended time. Incline's over limit too. Continuing risks harm to the subject."
Her point was clear: any injury fell on him.
O Won-jin's eyes wavered.
"...I'll take responsibility."
The nurse said nothing, just nodded knowingly and left.
Limit hit again.
To O Won-jin, Kim Jun looked on the verge of collapse.
Oxygen uptake: 115.
O Won-jin sighed.
Done now. Between 115 and 120—that cocky carrier's max, daring the chief's ire.
115? Never seen that. Who tops this hospital's records?
Curious, he searched. Kim Jun beat everyone here—the kid carrier held the hospital's highest.
Lee Hwan, hailed as the only Raider to replace retired Yoo Wan-seop, scored 96. Yoo Wan-seop never tested here.
Higher than Lee Hwan! This guy's incredible!
O Won-jin looked at the heaving Kim Jun. Pure endurance—Kim Jun outdid the prodigy.
A born nobody beating a genius? It warmed him. He was ordinary too.
But the quiet joy faded. He remembered what he was doing.
Guilt burned his face.
This is wrong. No matter how bad I want to stay...
As he moved to stop it, uptake rose again. Past 120, hitting 130.
Kim Jun's agonized face... relaxed. Not like someone who'd run nearly three hours.
Now 138.
O Won-jin checked for malfunction. Nothing.
What the hell is this guy?
Then Hong Mun-hak burst in.
"Chief!"
"What are you doing?"
"...Measuring VO2 max as ordered."
Slap.
Hong Mun-hak backhanded him without glancing at the machine.
Stunned, O Won-jin felt no pain.
"Carriers aren't Raiders. Ordinary like you. You know that, right?"
"I..."
"Stop it now."
"Yes."
O Won-jin halted the machine. Hong Mun-hak went to the treadmill, supported Kim Jun to keep him from falling, and laid him on the wall-mounted bed.
Looking down at Kim Jun, a dark smile curled Hong Mun-hak's lips.
Kim Jun's eyes shook violently, staring up.
Hong Mun-hak turned and glared at O Won-jin.
"I'm disappointed. Abusing a carrier like this? Disciplinary committee soon. See you there."
"Ch-chief!"
O Won-jin realized he'd been played. Dazed, he spotted worn sneakers.
Lifting his head, he saw Kim Jun—the one he'd tormented. Breathing ragged, but color returning.
Incredible recovery. Might've hit 140+. How?
O Won-jin forgot the committee, lost in it.
Then Kim Jun's fist slammed into his solar plexus.
O Won-jin rolled on the floor, breathless. Kim Jun hadn't hit full force; breath returned soon.
He rose slowly. Body hurt, but mind cleared. Even if ordered, he'd chosen to obey.
No excuses.
"Sorry."
Disciplinary or not, he had to say it.
Kim Jun looked at him.
"Not your fault, doc. I begged you to let me keep running."
"......"
O Won-jin doubted his ears. The kid knew everything. Yet he covered for the tormentor following orders.
"Call me if you need me. I'll show for the committee or whatever. See ya."
Kim Jun left.
The waiting room was empty. Kang Jin-gu had finished and gone.
No hard feelings. Just a pang of regret.
Exiting the Dungeon Association hospital, Kim Jun boarded a bus, body heavy as lead. Still, he yielded his seat to a hunched old woman.
Through the window, across the street: a familiar face in a Benz driver's seat—Hong Mun-hak.
A stylish woman in red heels slid into the passenger seat. Mid-20s maybe, she leaned in expertly, kissing his cheek.
On impulse, Kim Jun jumped off and hailed a taxi.
"Follow that Benz."
The driver turned, eyes questioning.
Impulsive words.
"Think my dad's cheating."
"Then to the ends of the earth."
Eyes bulging, the driver floored it.
The intercity bus stopped.
Yeom Sang-taek waited for passengers to disembark, last off. The air hit his nose—Daejeon definitely cleaner than Seoul.
He headed to the taxi line. Not going home.
"MJ Buff Academy."
The driver glanced but said nothing, pulling out.
At a red light, the driver ventured.
"Raider hopeful, huh?"
"Something like that."
Yeom Sang-taek didn't want to admit he'd awakened as a Raider.
"Too late for you."
"...Yeah?"
"No awakening by your age? Buff academy's pointless. I'd go home."
The cabbie spoke sharply, like an expert.
Yeom Sang-taek nearly laughed.
Truth was, he was right. Awakening starts by puberty's end at latest. Most Raiders show signs in puberty, confirmed at Association tests.
Some, like Lee Hwan at 7, early.
The driver gave a couple more advices, then clammed up. Just pitying glances.
Taxi stopped at the academy.
Paying, Yeom Sang-taek stepped out; driver added,
"Think of your parents."
Yeom Sang-taek smiled bitterly.
The taxi drove off. Driver'd brag about the fool he picked up.
Why not tell him he was a buffer, a real Raider?
"Me and my mouth..."