Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: The Planned Cave-In
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BOOM---!!
Heavy rocks crashed down with thunderous roars, and thick clouds of dust billowed from every direction, blotting out the view.
Screams of "Kyaa! Uwaaak! Mommy!" were just icing on the chaos cake.
A sudden collapse like this?
This is way too contrived, isn't it?!
Even as he bolted frantically, Jin couldn't help thinking that.
But no, it wasn't.
Jin had no idea, but this collapse was what they called a "scheduled disaster"—one that had been meticulously building over thirty long years.
For starters, Underheart setting up shop in those tunnels was the root problem.
What do you think they drained first, all crammed together in an unfinished underground lair?
Right, that thing flashing through his mind.
Water—groundwater, to be precise!
Normally, pore water pressure—the interplay of water and soil—props up the overlying ground over a not-insignificant area.
But with that deep groundwater steadily depleting and voids forming, you'd think that was bad enough?
Under the grand excuse of building an underground kingdom, they'd carried out reckless expansion work for a full thirty years.
Sinkholes were inevitable in that setup.
Hundreds of warning signs hinting at a major disaster and dozens of minor accidents had already piled up ages ago.
And right in the middle of all that, they discovered an underground ruin and stone coffin—only for a vampire from ten centuries ago to burst out.
'Nobody escapes.'
The vampire, still too weak to roam freely without regaining his strength, had used the sacrifice's blood to erect a barrier across the entire tunnel network, trapping his fleeing prey.
But talk about dumb luck—the barrier ended up holding the crumbling ground together, like snaring a rat while backing away from a cow.
Then the self-proclaimed king shattered it himself.
Underheart's very founder had orchestrated the grand finale with his own hands.
And so, the collapse kicked off!
The clueless group could do nothing but run for their lives.
"Waaah!"
"Run!"
"Who's yanking my clothes?!"
The ground shuddered violently under their feet, and cracks spiderwebbed from the walls up to the ceiling, deepening as dust poured from the fissures like waterfalls.
And if that wasn't enough to scramble their brains, the wandering corpses joined the fray.
Kieeeek!
Evil reborn from death was blind to all reason.
That desperate craving twisted into pure hatred once it became eternally unattainable.
Living corpses were paradoxes stitched from two irreconcilable words.
They feared no death.
Collapsing caverns meant nothing to them.
They bared their fangs solely because their targets lived.
"Incoming!"
The next instant, the living and the dead collided atop the quaking floor.
In that brutal tangle, where blood sprayed like fireworks, a burst of violet lightning erupted explosively.
PAZIZIZIK!!!
It smashed through in one go, blasting open the blocked path.
"Outta the way-!!"
Jin bellowed.
Not some hero's triumphant roar.
More like the furious yell of a guy dying for the bathroom, only to have someone keep blocking him.
Actually, way more desperate than that.
Shit your pants, and it's over.
Fail to escape here in time? You're dead!
The rest of the group felt the same—they just weren't saying it out loud.
Even with lungs burning to their throats, they'd pushed on fighting with superhuman willpower.
"M-Move! Fuck!"
The crisis had even the bottom-rung mercenary blazing away with his pistol.
Funny part? Every shot punched straight through foreheads—his marksmanship was no joke.
The problem was over ten days buried in darkness had frayed his sanity a bit.
His skills, though? Rock solid.
Of course, no one had the luxury to comment on it.
Meanwhile, the tremors intensified.
Ceiling rocks plunged like massive arrowheads; one hurtled straight for Natasha's head.
"W-Watch out!"
The instant the mercenary screamed.
Someone kicked off the ground, shoved Natasha's back—then got no chance to dodge themselves, crushed flat.
That noble sacrifice? None other than the other Natasha.
As the real one tumbled across the floor barely alive, Jin thrust his arm toward her.
"Natasha!"
Reflexively, she flung out her own arm.
Their reaching hands brushed in a razor-thin connection.
Jin yanked with all his might, and she shot off the ground like a slingshot, spinning through the air before landing.
"Drinks with me after we get out?!"
"No clichés!!!"
That was when Jin yelled it.
Suddenly, a ragged, choking gasp panted right by his ear.
He'd just bashed a blocking corpse aside and whipped his head toward the sound.
There: the night-haired guy, eyes half-rolled back.
That bag—easily over 100kg—had finally proven too much.
He wanted to scream "Drop it!" but after seeing how Maximo babied that bag all this time...
"Ugh, shit."
Jin clamped down on the handle and heaved his arm skyward.
Maximo dangled along like a limp puppet and spoke up.
"...Thanks. I'll cut your tab."
By now, even Jin lacked the breath to reply—he just stared ahead and ran.
Suddenly, they were climbing stairs.
The very ones that had vanished like a lie.
The high ground was finally within reach.
Squeezing out their last dregs of strength, they crested the stairs—and there it was: the dungeon entrance. No, the ticket gate.
"Hup!"
Like oblivious passengers, Jin vaulted the gate with a running leap, then grabbed the trailing Natasha and mercenary to hurry on.
He flipped the double bird at the blood-smeared warning, crossed the long underpass—
There! Sunlight!
Jin ramped up speed toward the long-awaited exit.
BOOM---!!!
He shook off the chain of explosions roaring behind and plunged into the blinding light.
The familiar daylight crashed over his face like a tidal wave; he squeezed his eyes shut on instinct.
Tears streamed from the sudden glare, but a grin spread across his lips anyway.
"Shit... we lived."
Who knew a breeze on his face could feel this good?
If I ever step back into a dungeon, I'm not human.
With that vow, tension melted away, and Jin flopped spread-eagle on the ground.
He lay there a good while, steadying his breath.
Still, what the hell was that all about?
A scene flickered through his mind unbidden.
The seven family heads and the king gathered before the altar.
And the mystery man.
Talk of a new era coming.
As Jin recalled, the architects of today's Lost City were the seven great families and humanity's first visionary—the one who discovered cyberspace.
Was that hooded bastard the visionary?
Then was that spot the founding ceremony?
"Today, we rename to Lost City. Everyone, prep the ribbon cutting."
But wait—why was the king crumpled like that?
A coup?
And why show me all this?
Creases formed on Jin's brow.
He knew that vision captured a historically pivotal moment, but teasing out the truth from it? Not so easy.
His head grew tangled; screw it, stand up first.
More pressing matters right now.
"Everyone good?"
As he turned to the group, he froze.
"......"
Sensing the presences encircling them, he slowly craned his neck.
Eyes narrowed like a boxer fresh off smelling salts, Jin swept the surroundings.
"What the hell is this...?"
His bleary vision picked out muzzles trained on them.
He rubbed his eyes like polishing lenses, then stared straight ahead.
"Who the fuck are you guys?"
That moment, someone strode forward from the center of the gunmen.
"Who knows."
The curt reply came from a man with a mechanical eye socketed in his right orbital—its lens glinting as it fixed on Jin's face.
"...Jin Evernight?"
He muttered low, then chuckled.
"Thought I recognized you. Solo world's rising star. What an honor. Nice to meet ya."
Jin twitched an eyebrow at being pegged instantly.
"If it's so nice, lower the guns first."
The gruff tone tugged the man's lip into a smirk.
"That'd be a problem...... Hey! Guns down! Unless you wanna die!"
The guy suddenly bellowed at something offside.
A glance showed the mercenary gingerly setting his pistol on the ground.
Hm, not total trash after all.
Resisting even in this mess.
As Jin mulled that.
The mech-eyed man tacked on to the group.
"Same for the rest. Twitch a finger. I'll honeycomb ya and fuck your holes."
Natasha and Maximo lacked even a twitch's strength anyway, but the threat's sheer sleaziness soured their faces.
Jin felt the same.
Part of him itched to whip out Gravis707 and ventilate that smug mug—but that'd leave the group wide open.
Hm. What now?
As Jin steadied his breath to think.
Click.
Mech-eyes drew a sleek barrel from his palm, leveled it at Jin, and spoke.
"No bullshit. Hand over the artifact from the tunnels. Might let you live."
"Well, damn. Full of shit."
Absurdity bubbled out; Jin scratched his nape.
"Ah. Oops."
Bang!!
The shot grazed his ear, cracking the wall.
Then the voice followed.
"...Hey, hotshot. Hit level 4 and think you're untouchable? Don't know what happens to cocky pricks in this game?"
"...?!"
Jin's eyes bulged.
Level 4?
Leveled up again already?
Satisfied with the shock? Mech-eyes sneered.
"So quit the attitude. Drop everything you grabbed down there and scram."
Jin snapped back.
Treasure hunters, gotta be.
Heard about artifacts in the ruins, showed up—but ambushed survivors instead of risking entry themselves.
Why threaten instead of shooting?
Jin didn't get it, but obviously, it was because of him.
Jin Evernight.
Self-awakened genius. War-ender. Supernova.
Slathered in hype, even they hesitated a straight attack.
Better to psych out using his companions as leverage.
And damn if it wasn't working—Jin was cornered.
Headache.
Mana's scraps left. Shit.
Tell 'em what happened down there? Robbers set on looting won't buy it. Bloodshed's coming either way.
Tank their shots with my body first? Then smash 'em before reloads.
Jin eyed surroundings, plotting the insane casually.
Quick strategy tweak.
Etch enemy positions in his mind, circulate scant mana delicately.
Pzzt!
His heart's light core growled low.
As if saying ready.
Good.
Deeper into imagery, he dredged up something AOE-worthy.
Never tested, but natural as breathing—he skipped the chant, pooling brain lightning at his feet...
Hold up. What?
That familiar mug.
Spotting a dreadlocked head peeking from behind a wrecked car, Jin schooled his face.
As he condensed mana, he said,
"...The goods? In that bag over there."
Thumb from clenched fist pointed at sprawled Maximo and bag.
Mech-eyes tracked it.
"Then toss the bag here. We'll inspect."
"Go for it."
"...Jin?"
Maximo's face fell.
But only for a beat.
At ease now, Jin's finger indicated the direction.
Night-hair confirmed, shrugged off the bag quietly.
"...Fuck."
World-lost expression, he lobbed it forward.
Too heavy to fly far—thudded nearby.
"Buy one get one?"
Mech-eyes clocked Maximo, gulped.
Artifact containing an artifact?
Ultimate twofer thrill—he chin-nodded his lackey.
"Fetch it careful."
As the sub stepped forward gun-ready and cautious.
Tok. Rolllll—
Pebble tumble by his ear; mech-eyes looked down.
A round grenade halted at his feet.
"...?!"
He jolted, mouth opening—
KABOOM!
The blast engulfed him.
Black linker emerged from the wreck, belting grenades like mad.
Dre Andre. Entrance anyway.
Simultaneously, Jin stomped hard in place.
"No skill name!"
With his mana burned to nothing, the brain lightning surged skyward—then plummeted earthward like a hawk on prey.