Dungeon & Commander (9)
Choi Muhyun, who had just unleashed his technique to block the Pyro-saurus's flames, couldn't shift to the side. The same went for Gwon Jun-sang, who was holding off a single Gelu-saurus.
Han So-young hurriedly conjured three arrows and loosed them at the Gelu-saurus. With a sharp thwip, two embedded in its chest, and the last plunged deep into its left eye.
The enraged beast bellowed and unleashed a torrent of cold.
In that split second, Park Hong-sik's Anti-Ice buff on himself proved useless. Caught in the ferocious blast of icy wind, he was hurled backward.
Han So-young collapsed too, one arm mangled.
Judging by the unnatural angle of her arm, at least a couple of bones were shattered. Park Hong-sik had landed ten meters from the team.
His arms and legs were frozen stiff as he flailed helplessly.
The Gelu-saurus, having circled wide around the team beyond the light's reach, closed in on Park Hong-sik. The silver monster peered down at him with its right eye. Its jaws slowly parted, revealing razor-sharp teeth.
Everyone knew what was coming.
The Gelu-saurus would devour Park Hong-sik right before their eyes.
Kim Jun gripped his digger with both hands and bolted out from the safe zone protected by the two tankers.
Gwon Jun-sang shouted.
"Stop!"
Kim Jun planted himself in front of Park Hong-sik, raising the pointed metal rod in a threatening stance. The Gelu-saurus gazed down at him like someone on the third floor looking at the first.
"...Get back."
Park Hong-sik said.
Kim Jun didn't turn his head or respond.
He hadn't charged out on impulse.
Before joining today's raid, in the simulator under Go Cheolmin's orders, Kim Jun had noticed how incredibly simple the monsters' behavior patterns were.
That insight had crystallized while waiting for the dungeon to open, replaying the monsters' actions he'd witnessed firsthand in the Bukaksan Dungeon.
Moreover, this Gelu-saurus had lost its left eye. Half its field of vision gone. Blood trickled from the arrows in its chest.
I've got a solid shot here.
Kim Jun darted to the beast's right side, stabbing at its thigh with the digger. The Gelu-saurus gaped its maw and spewed frost, but the aim was off.
Kim Jun didn't miss how its movements slowed right after attacking. He pressed in close.
The startled creature stumbled and toppled. Kim Jun slipped into its blind spot, relentlessly stabbing its flank and chest. More and more fluids leaked out.
No raider would respond like this.
Thinking he'd die anyway if he squandered heaven-sent luck, Kim Jun drove the digger hard into the core's position.
The Gelu-saurus roared and thrashed.
Kim Jun, clinging tight to the digger, was battered against the ground but refused to let go. He shoved deeper with every opening.
The angle was perfect—neither forelegs nor hind could reach him. Hidden in its blind spot, Kim Jun was invisible to it.
The Gelu-saurus weakened.
As Kim Jun gritted his teeth and twisted the digger, the beast's neck went limp.
Kim Jun quickly dragged Park Hong-sik back to the safe zone between the two tankers.
Park Hong-sik's eyes were wet.
Kim Jun raced back to the dead Gelu-saurus, yanked out the digger, glanced around, thrust his arm in, and extracted the silver Geludium. He brought it to the team.
"You crazy bastard!"
The surviving Gelu-saurus, spooked by its kin's death, fled backward. Gwon Jun-sang bellowed.
Kim Jun was speechless.
Gwon Jun-sang, glaring daggers at Kim Jun, turned to Park Hong-sik.
"Signal flare—you good to fire it?"
"Once my body's thawed, yeah."
"Good."
Gwon Jun-sang panted.
Then, a distant rumble shook the dungeon world.
It came from the direction where the Nuclataurus had vanished.
Blood trickled from Gwon Jun-sang's bitten lip. He whipped his head toward Choi Muhyun with a glare.
No orders needed.
Choi Muhyun was already charging at Gwon Jun-sang.
The two tankers braced to block the nuclear blast's aftershock. Instinct screamed they needed max defense.
Park Hong-sik, propped up by Kim Jun, piled every helpful buff on them.
A red storm approached.
"Heads down, everyone!"
The heat wave crashed over them the instant Gwon Jun-sang spoke.
Kim Jun opened his eyes.
Or thought he did.
Still pitch black. He raised a hand—nothing visible.
His face burned.
Touching it revealed sticky fluid. Skin peeled away in shreds.
A foul stench somewhere.
Then it hit him.
Some fool had provoked the Nuclataurus. Its nuclear explosion had engulfed the expedition. This raid would go down as a catastrophe.
Throat parched.
He knew death loomed, but he craved a few sips of water first. He rolled over and crawled. Something brushed his fingertips.
A groan right in front.
It was a face!
"...Who's there?"
"Kim Jun."
"It's you."
Han So-young's faint voice.
"You okay?"
"Not at all."
"Water?"
"Music to my ears."
Kim Jun crawled again, groping for the storeback with the water bottle. It took nearly ten minutes.
The bottle, stashed deep in the blast-proof storeback, was intact.
He fetched it and groped his way to Han So-young, handing it over.
"...We're done for, huh?"
Han So-young asked.
"Not just us."
"Yeah, the others too?"
She cackled. Half out of her mind.
Kim Jun searched for the team. Choi Muhyun and Gwon Jun-sang lay together by their bulk—alive, unconscious.
Nearby, Kang Jin-gu. Then Park Hong-sik.
No deaths.
Yet.
Kim Jun lay staring into the void.
How could luck be this rotten?
Nuclear blast from the Nuclataurus after just two raids.
Gwon Jun-sang coughed awake. Kim Jun crawled over with water. After two sips, he briefed him. No solutions there either.
Gates showed on Legios—dungeon compasses issued only to a few, like expedition leader Jo Dong-gun. Not to Uramata's Gwon Jun-sang.
Magnetic compasses failed in dungeons—no north or south. But the Dungeon Association crafted one for the pitch-black hells.
The Legio, made from seven core types, resembled a compass but worked only in dungeons. Infuse mana or inner power, and its spiridium needle pointed true to the gate.
Legios let expeditions find exits anywhere.
Association issued them only to proven raiders like expedition leaders.
"How'd you do it back there?"
"...Do what?"
"The Gelu. Killed it with that rod. How?"
Gwon Jun-sang shed his leader's stoicism for casual buddy-talk.
Even facing certain death, curiosity burned.
"Luck."
"You knew it slows after ice storms?"
"Yeah."
"How?"
"Watched close."
"Waited for the opening, jammed the rod in the vitals?"
"Pretty much."
"Madman."
More praise than curse.
Silence fell. No words left, no strength for them.
They awaited creeping death.
Nuke aftermath or Gelu-saurus snack—death was inevitable.
To shake the gloom, Kim Jun absentmindedly whistled.
Beatles' Let It Be, no thought behind it.
"...Pick something else. Bad omen. 'Just let it be'? No."
Kang Jin-gu griped publicly, out of character.
Gwon Jun-sang chuckled. Han So-young burst out laughing. Park Hong-sik and Choi Muhyun couldn't stifle pained grins.
Kim Jun switched to Nostalgia.
His clear whistle on the poem-turned-melody hushed them.
Han So-young started singing.
—To the eastern edge of the vast field,
Gwon Jun-sang followed.
—Where old tales are spun on looms,
Kang Jin-gu drew out a rich tone.
—Where the Silgaecheon river winds around.
To Kim Jun's whistling accompaniment, they all—or sometimes one or two—sang on. Pain and fear faded briefly.
Then Park Hong-sik's tense voice cut in.
"...Something's coming."
The song stopped.
Kim Jun kept whistling.
He'd whistle till those fangs tore his throat. Fear was one thing; dying crushed by it was worse.
Did Dad go like this?
Kim Jun swallowed a sob, steeling his throat.
A white dot grew.
Not monstrous—a huge deer-thing circled them. Gwon Jun-sang, with B-rank raid experience, shuddered.
"...That's a Raipo-saurus."
Raipo-saurus cores held Raipium—miracle cure-all. Famous for ads reviving the dying.
Catching one could heal these wounds instantly. That drove Gwon Jun-sang to rise—but agony crashed like a wave.
He knew he couldn't again.
The Raipo-saurus approached whistling Kim Jun, peered curiously, then licked his cheek.
The whistle cut off, but the deer kept licking.
Kim Jun froze.
Predinner slobber?
Terror surged; he shut his eyes and whistled again. Focusing dulled the torment—realization hit late.
Pain eased with each lick.
Why help him?
As it licked his shoulder, Kim Jun touched his face with his free hand. A groan escaped. Skin smooth.
Taut like post-bath.
Fully healed, the white deer moved to Han So-young. She flinched in terror; Kim Jun crawled over.
"It's fine. Stay still—it'll startle you at first."
She noted his restored voice, endured tremors.
No long wait.
Perceptive Han So-young felt the rapid recovery.
The white deer licked the whole team.
Like savoring wounds. Kim Jun wondered if injuries fed the cure-all core beast.
Absurd, but plausible.
"Catch it."
Gwon Jun-sang whispered.
"No."
Kim Jun objected.
"Me too."
Han So-young.
The rest agreed.
"...Yeah. Felt wrong anyway."
Uncharacteristic for their steadfast leader. Still, passing on a potential 10-billion-core stung.
Killing it meant no more raids, ever.
Recovered buffer Park Hong-sik fired three flares—no response.
The Raipo-saurus drifted from the Socrates team, occasionally glancing back.
Pausing to stare at Kim Jun, it evoked a National Geographic white deer—ethereal glow misting into the dark from its small frame.
Kim Jun couldn't look away.
"What's up?"
Han So-young.
"Not sure yet."
He answered honestly.
Han So-young joined him, gazing.
"Feels like it's saying 'follow me,' right?"
She whispered. Others would call her crazy.
"Maybe."
One way to check.
Kim Jun glanced at Han So-young, then slowly approached the Raipo-saurus.
Shocked, Gwon Jun-sang rose but held back, lest he provoke it. He eyed the team questioningly.
The Raipo-saurus watched unmoving.
Step by step.
Kim Jun conquered fear each time, quashing the urge to flee back.
Arm's reach.
Their gazes met. Beyond those serene eyes, gentle instinct—not the cold killer's glare of the Gelu-saurus up close.
Kim Jun extended a hand.
The Raipo-saurus licked it—like a pet.
Kim Jun smiled unwittingly.
It stared, then nodded toward the darkness. Kim Jun tilted his head; it repeated.
"Ah!"
Kim Jun gasped.
Follow me.
The Raipo-saurus walked into shadow, glanced back.
Kim Jun followed, drawn. It led on.
He beckoned the team.
Eyes turned to leader Gwon Jun-sang. Frowning, undecided, until Han So-young spoke.
"We don't know the gate anyway. Following it while flaring signals seems smart, boss."
"Hm."
Sound advice—he accepted instantly. Normally, pride or stubbornness would delay.
Socrates team trailed the Raipo-saurus at 10 meters. Kim Jun stuck right behind.
Silent march, monster and humans, two hours.
Then buffer Park Hong-sik groaned.
"...Schwarzwald. One o'clock, about 30 meters."
"Moving?"
Gwon Jun-sang asked.
"No, but weird. Aura's way weaker than usual. That blast must've hit it hard."
Gwon Jun-sang nodded.
Soon, the black forest—even big monsters feared—entered view. Charred gray ruins.
Then the unbelievable happened.