Ogre King

The name floating above the head of the ogre who had helped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Han Ji-woo read Ogre King. This guy wasn't just any ordinary ogre—he was the king of ogres.

"Wh-what in the world is going on?!"

Os Gillro was utterly shocked by the Ogre King's sudden attack on the other monsters.

"I'll explain later! For now, hide behind the Ogre King!"

Han Ji-woo and Os Gillro didn't stop running until they had passed the Ogre King.

"Huff! Huff!"

"Haaah!"

The two gasped for breath as they took in the scene unfolding before them.

The Ogre King was massacring the swarming monsters single-handedly. This wasn't even a fight between an adult and a child anymore—it was like a human battling earthworms.

Kieeeek!Kyarruk!Kraaa!

The monsters swept away by the Ogre King's club screamed in unison. Yet even as they watched their comrades die, they kept pushing forward relentlessly.

But every time, what awaited them was...

Thwuuump!Thud!Krunch!Crack!

...a thorough clubbing from the Ogre King.

Not a single one made it past him; they all exploded into unrecognizable mush.

"I... protect. Friend... no touch!"

Whiiiish!Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

As the Ogre King gleefully bashed the monsters to death, Os Gillro asked,

"Hang on, lad. Huff. Huff. How in blazes did you... make an ogre call you friend? Hooow?!"

He was still out of breath, but curiosity had clearly gotten the better of him.

"You know the line, 'Stars shine light upon those who gaze at them'?"

It was a famous quote from a fantasy novel Han Ji-woo had read.

Os Gillro tilted his head.

"What kinda nonsense is that outta nowhere?"

"It's a thing."

The Ogre King kept attacking the monsters without pause. By now, it seemed the monsters were finally regaining some rational thought, one or two at a time. A group from the rear started fleeing.

Just as a single ripple in a calm lake can spread into a wave, once a few monsters bolted, the others followed suit. In the end, most of the surviving monsters scattered.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠few that lingered too long, too foolish to flee, became dew on the battlefield.

Thwuuuump!

Only after pulverizing the last one did the Ogre King halt his clubbing. Blood coated the massive log like lacquer, dripping steadily.

The hulking Ogre King turned his massive frame, looking down at one human and one dwarf.

He asked Han Ji-woo,

"Dwarf... your friend?"

His tone suggested he'd swing that club if the answer was no, so Han Ji-woo replied without hesitation.

"Yeah!"

"...Right."

After that, the Ogre King fell silent. He simply gazed at Han Ji-woo with a pleased look.

That subtle glint in his eyes felt a bit burdensome, so Han Ji-woo quickly tossed out some words.

"Oh, uh, thanks for saving us back there."

"Ogre... saves friend."

"Yeah, we're friends. Which is why..."

Han Ji-woo pulled up the quest window, checked the details, and asked the Ogre King,

"Do you happen to know where the prison door key is?"

The Ogre King nodded heavily.

"Know."

'What the hell?'

Han Ji-woo and Os Gillro exchanged glances upon seeing the linked quest.

"Lad, I won't pry how you befriended an ogre. But may I ask one perfectly reasonable question?"

"I can already guess what it is."

"So you felt it too, eh? This quest... without prior friendship with the ogre, it's utterly impossible to clear."

"Exactly."

"It's a vile, low-down, filthy quest, that's what I'm sayin'!"

Os Gillro's jaw trembled with rage. Han Ji-woo was just as furious.

They'd cleared this quest purely by sheer luck. If Han Ji-woo hadn't built ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rapport with the ogre by gazing at the stars, it would've been impossible.

In simple terms, the quest was designed to be unclimbable from the start.

Suddenly, Han Ji-woo recalled his first moments in the prison. He'd hunted one monster and acquired a Life Orb, thrilled by the 5-minute extension to his death countdown. Eager, he'd hunted more—only for 10 hours to vanish.

A trap that dangled faint hope before plunging you into deeper despair. This quest was laced with the same cruelty.

What a goddamn bastard god.

Han Ji-woo cursed the dungeon's creator. What sick hobby and perversion allowed for designing such torment?

Thinking back, the entire dungeon was built that way. Reach the bottom, slay the boss, go home. But that hope ended in death long before the depths.

Han Ji-woo had only guessed at the dungeon's nature before, but Os Gillro had confirmed it.

In the end, this so-called god just delighted in watching captives succumb to despair and die.

Han Ji-woo had no intention of dancing to the god's tune, now or ever. He clenched his fist in resolve—

—when the Ogre King's voice drifted into his ear.

"I tell... where key is. But... you do... my favor first."

"Anything. Spill it."

"First... know my... situation. I am..."

"Hold up, hold up!"

Han Ji-woo cut him off with a deep sigh.

"No other monsters around here know your story? Someone who can talk fast."

A turtle-paced speech for his backstory? He'd lose his mind.

Os Gillro thumped his chest in frustration, clearly agreeing. So Han Ji-woo asked if there was another monster who knew the Ogre King's circumstances.

From his time in the dungeon, he'd found somewhat intelligent monsters could converse.

"...Wait."

With that, the Ogre King vanished briefly, returning with a monster in tow.

The creature trembling beside the Ogre King was...

"Huh?"

No way—it was Han Ji-woo himself.

Staring at this identical double, Han Ji-woo muttered,

"...What kinda insane bullshit is this now?"

* * *

The 27th warriors who entered Dungeon Floor 7 were thrown into confusion.

In the vast cavern, amid the structures and crops Han Ji-woo had shared, stairs to Floor 8 loomed prominently.

Jonathan, predictably, freaked out.

"This quest normal? Only 27 get to go down?!"

Unease rippled through the dungeon folk.

Survivors numbered 54, humans and goblins combined—exactly half could proceed.

"If we don't decide in a day, it kills us all?"

Ishihara Yui furrowed her brow.

This quest was more vicious than any since their abduction. One day to separate the living from the dying.

Naturally, no one spoke up. They just eyed each other warily.

Yet a similar conclusion formed in their minds:

The strong must go down.

That raised clear chances. But lives hung in the balance—no simple equation.

"Haaa."

Kim Jung-min tore at his hair, sighing deeply. Kind-hearted as he was, this choice tormented him.

"...Lord have mercy."

Dennis Cobitt, a priest kidnapped mid-service, crossed himself and closed his eyes. He'd saved lives with holy recovery since arrival, not prayers—but now, faith was all he had.

"..."

Silence stretched. Irene Luker, who crafted armor saving many; Jonathan Yombi, who shredded foes with Wind Cutter; Ishihara Yui, ever frontline with her iron body; Mitchell Hoff, leading with cool judgment and fireballs; even Seol Ara, who always found breakthroughs in crises.

No pioneer could save them this time.

Then, someone stepped forward, murmuring low,

"Heaven aids those who aid themselves."

All eyes turned to Andra Marshall. The quiet one who'd silently hypnotized and killed a goblin, showing no remorse. Everyone eyed him warily, his motives opaque.

He placed a foot on the stairs. It felt so natural, no one moved to stop him. Or rather, He's really going down? froze them.

"I'll head down first."

With a smile like when he'd killed the goblin, Andra vanished.

To those fearing death, it was a spark.

"Uwaaaah!"

"M-me too!"

A few bolted for the stairs. Others followed.

Chaos loomed as selfishness surged.

But it wasn't Mitchell or Seol Ara who intervened.

BOOM!

A massive blast cratered the ground before the stairs, acrid smoke billowing. In the settling haze stood the steel-bodied woman, fist embedded in the floor, glaring like a demon at the approaching crowd.

"Get your thick skulls straight before I smash 'em and scram."

Yui's threat halted them like a shock.

"Think the pioneers are just standing by 'cause they wanna go first?"

Among the fleeing, 17-year-old Lisa Simpson burst into tears.

"Hic! Sob. Sorry... Sorry, sis. Sorry, everyone."

Her remorse hushed the runners. They hung their heads, feeling like criminals—mostly those without combat skills.

Jonathan thought,

Who goes down's pretty much set...

Someone had to decide. Not him, of course.

His gaze flicked to Mitchell.

Leader steps up now, right?

But against his hopes, Mitchell's deliberation dragged on.

* * *

A man identical to Han Ji-woo.

Above his head floated this name: