Chapter 46
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: Ah, My Vacation... Waah
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Ah, my vacation... Waah.
Vacation means the beach, of course.
The cool sea breeze blowing in, the sound of waves tickling my ears, and fresh seafood dishes I'd barely encountered in my Seoul-born-and-raised life.
For someone like me who absolutely despises bugs, valleys weren't even on the table. The answer was obvious from the start.
My vacation spot could only be the sea.
And what kind of terrain is Korea, anyway?
A peninsula surrounded by ocean on three sides.
It's rare in the world to have a country where you can so easily reach the sea.
Just a few hours by car, and a blue horizon stretches out—skipping the beach on a trip would be like putting a pearl necklace on a pig.
"Kyaah~ This is why we come to the sea."
I spread my arms wide and breathed in the ocean breeze.
And this trip wasn't just any ordinary vacation.
After devouring the Saintess's virginity and earning a bonus, I'd finally snagged a vacation worth its weight in gold—practically a lifeline.
So I went all out.
A top-tier resort costing at least fifty per night.
And I rented the whole place for four straight days.
The Haeundae night view from the balcony was beyond words like "the jackpot of a man's life."
Arriving at Busan Port, I was lost in happy dilemmas over where to start.
Beach during the day, resort spa at night.
And in between, seafood feasts and ice-cold beer until my stomach burst.
This was the perfect vacation.
...At least until that moment.
Rumble rumble rumble.
"Wh-what the hell is that sound?"
An ominous vibration traveled up through my feet.
I whipped my head around.
In that instant, the middle of Haeundae Beach erupted in chaos. The ground split open, and a blazing magic circle rose up.
And from its center—
Shwooo!
A massive black tower began piercing toward the sky.
A dungeon.
The nightmare of a birth moment, something you might witness only once in a lifetime.
And I was seeing it with my own eyes.
"...Fuck."
My vacation bliss shattered miserably on the very first day.
When a dungeon appears in a civilian-dense area, the Hunter Association always follows a three-step procedure.
This wasn't just a manual—it was a survival formula forged from hundreds, thousands of past catastrophes.
First step: Separation.
The most dangerous thing right after a dungeon erupts isn't the monsters—it's humans.
There were always civilians drawn in by rumors like "There's treasure inside the tower" or "Enter and awaken."
In truth, that curiosity was fatal after just one try.
Countless records existed of people stepping into the entrance and getting torn to shreds on the spot.
So the dispatched hunters work with police to set up barricades first.
They seal off hundreds of meters around the tower and sweep civilians out like trash.
Essentially, it's the step that protects the first victims from human stupidity.
Second step: Investigation.
They record everything—the tower's height, patterns, and the mana waves emanating outward.
Just from the exterior, you can roughly gauge the dungeon type, and that's crucial.
For example, a ghost-type like Jongno Dungeon risks mental breakdowns, while dragon-types demand overwhelming firepower since physical attacks barely work.
Going in blind is collective suicide.
That's why investigation teams are always handled by the Association's veterans.
One sharp eye could decide the party's life or death.
Third step: Party formation.
Once the tower type is identified, they assemble a fitting hunter party for deployment.
Healers, DPS, tanks.
On the surface, simple roles—but placement involves far more variables.
For ghost-types, they always include a "mental stabilizer."
Because one guy screaming in terror until death has wiped out entire parties more than once.
In short: Dungeon emergence → Separation → Investigation → Party formation.
These three steps were the Association's doctrine and the rules of survival written in blood.
But... why the hell was this happening?
Murmur, murmur.
"Didn't they say it'd be cleared by evening?"
"No way... It's been a whole day already. Why's it still there...?"
The beachgoers' anxious whispers seeped into my ears too.
This Busan Port dungeon.
Height roughly apartment-level, about 50 meters—ten floors.
It might look huge at a glance, but compared to high-tier dungeons soaring 100 floors, it was bottom-of-the-barrel low-rank.
Honestly, even rookies fresh out of hunter training could clear it if paired with one pro.
For comparison, the Jongno one before was a 73-floor monster.
A measly 10-floor dungeon was nothing to Korea's hunter forces.
In fact, when it first erupted at Busan Port, the local branch hunters took one look at the height and declared:
"It'll be wiped clean by evening!"
We vacationers and locals, including me, relaxed at that.
Even with a tower on the beach, we trusted it'd vanish soon.
The problem? A full day had passed already.
With Korean hunters' skills, it should've been obliterated by now—yet the 10-floor dungeon stubbornly stood before Haeundae.
What's more, the hunters who'd bragged "No big deal" yesterday were now drenched in cold sweat.
The site was more chaotic than the first day.
Civilians trembled in fear; even Association staff exchanged tense radio chatter.
And then came the peak.
"Is it true a special dungeon has appeared?"
That single phrase silenced the beach instantly.
Then murmurs exploded outward.
"Whoa?! That's... Cheok Yunhwa!"
"For real! Korea's one and only S-Rank Hunter!"
"No way... Cheok Yunhwa came all the way from Seoul to Busan?"
The car door opened, and silver hair cascaded, shimmering under the neon lights.
Coldly gleaming golden eyes, overwhelming aura.
The moment she stepped out, Busan Port held its breath.
S-Rank Hunter, Cheok Yunhwa.
Korea's strongest force, the woman called the last bastion.
"...Hold up."
A chill ran down my spine.
Korea's sole S-Rank, who barely budged from guarding Seoul, had come here?
That meant they'd skipped all the procedures and reports to pull her in—a situation that dire.
Still blending in as a civilian, I figured Yunhwa wouldn't spot me.
She strode past the barricade with authority.
Surrounding hunters saluted in unison; she nodded coolly from the center.
She immediately received a report from the site commander.
Too far to hear clearly, but I caught fragments.
As the Hunter Association's exclusive psychiatrist with my studies, I could parse what trickled in.
And one phrase stood out above all.
Special dungeon.
That word alone dropped my heart into my stomach.
A case from books only, never once appeared on the peninsula since founding.
Not just a monster-infested dungeon, but an gateway crafted by demons—mana users transcending humanity, a superior race.
That was a special dungeon.
Records said they were ticking time bombs from emergence.
One week.
Exactly then, the dungeon opens wide like hell's gate—not spilling ordinary monsters.
Tens of thousands of troops.
Led by their "king," the demons' direct forces flood in at once.
A catastrophe no national forces could withstand.
And crucially, the entrance differed from the start.
Not open to any hunter like normal dungeons; it had conditions, as if the dungeon itself selected the "worthy."
Sometimes mental fortitude, specific bloodlines, or inscrutable trials set by the dungeon.
In other words, the dungeon chose who could enter.
That's why special dungeons couldn't be brute-forced.
It was then.
Kaboom!
"Kyaaak?!"
"Wh-what?!"
A massive explosion rocked Busan Port.
Like a missile streaking by, a fireball split the sky overhead.
People screamed and fled.
I instinctively looked up.
The sight was unbelievable.
A high-rise behind Haeundae, its glass facade shattering.
And embedded in its center—not a monster, but Cheok Yunhwa.
"Yunhwa!"
Had she been repelled trying to force entry?
The invincible Yunhwa rejected at the dungeon entrance, slammed in front of civilians.
It wasn't mere shock—it struck terror: "Even our strongest fails."
And right then.
‘...Those who wish to enter the dungeon.’
The entire space resonated.
The air trembled, a deep bass burrowing into every ear.
People clutched their ears, but it was futile.
It pierced straight into their minds.
The nearby hunters' faces drained pale blue simultaneously.
Even they sensed it wasn't mere dungeon rumble—but intent.
I felt it too. Cold sweat trickled down my back.
Heavy enough to sink my chest, more horrifying than any scream.
And the dungeon finally issued its condition.
Entry qualification: the sole trial it deemed worthy.
‘Wahh.’
"...?"
Fuck, looks like I've finally caught my patients' mental illness.