The Reason for Entering the Dungeon
"Whoa, so this is the inside of a dungeon."
Watching An Jeong-hwa peek around in awe, quivering a bit on her first dungeon run, I couldn't help but feel like I was looking at a baby chick. First things first, it seemed like this little peep needed some safety training about dungeons.
The first room in a dungeon was a safe zone with no enemies, but from the second room on, monsters lurked in wait. If she poked around out of curiosity and got into an accident, it'd be on me as party leader. Better to drill this stuff into her head early.
"An Jeong-hwa? Let's talk for a sec."
She came over obediently at my words and stood there nicely. At least she seemed to follow orders well.
"First off, drop the formal speech. Party leaders always use casual talk inside dungeons, got it? In combat or emergencies, just speak up right away without holding back."
"Yes. Got it."
"Nice, you're quick on the uptake—makes things easy. So, what do you know about this dungeon?"
"Um, it's mostly old or sick goblins that show up. They're weak individually, but they travel in packs, so you have to be careful. The main loot is mana stones and rusty daggers."
"You know your stuff."
As An Jeong-hwa said, the valuable items from this 10th-grade dungeon, Goblin's Tomb, were [Mana Stone]s and [Rusty Dagger]s.
[Mana Stone] — Core organ common to all monsters, akin to a heart. High energy value for humanity; primary income for hunter awakeners.
[Rusty Dagger] — No weapon value, but metal items from dungeons hold mana-infused properties. Key material for mana engineering alongside mana stones—sells well.
Since An Jeong-hwa already knew the basics, I didn't have to explain everything from scratch—score.
"Alright, today I'm hunting solo. Just watch from behind how it's done. You'll have to do it next time. Got it?"
"Purification... Um, got it."
I still didn't know how she'd act in a real dungeon, but she seemed trainable enough to bring along next time. Lucky break. To advance to 9th grade, you needed at least ten clears of a 10th-grade instance dungeon, and I couldn't afford to babysit someone new every single run.
If we kept partying up, it'd save me the hassle. Sure, it felt a little like taking advantage of her innocence for my convenience, but she was learning from an actual 8th-grade combatant—what was there to complain about?
Goblin's Tomb was the lowest of the 10th-grade dungeons: ten rooms where even a regular person could survive. Each room was roughly 50m by 50m—big for a "room," but that's what they called it. Even entering the second room with mobs didn't mean instant aggression; it was relatively safe. The old, sick goblins huddled on the forest outskirts didn't attack first. Non-aggressive mobs, basically.
But with packs of three or more per room, careless newbie 10th-graders—whose physical stats weren't much better than civilians—often got wrecked if they let their guard down. Not an issue for me, though.
My highest skill, Survival at 1st grade, excelled at enemy detection. The moment we crossed into the room, it pinpointed a goblin pack dozens of meters away.
I raised a clenched fist to halt An Jeong-hwa. I hadn't asked if she knew hand signals, but I figured she'd at least know the basics like "stop." Sure enough, she froze on cue, dropping into a low stance without a sound. Good training.
Three goblins clustered together—no need for melee. I grabbed three nearby pebbles and pelted them.
My 3rd-grade Marksmanship and Strength 10 stats turned those stones into skull-crushers.
Thud— Thud— Thud—
One per second, their soft goblin heads exploded in rhythm.
"Whoa..."
An Jeong-hwa let out an impressed gasp. Honestly, even I was surprised. I knew it'd crack skulls, but straight-up detonating them? Strength 10 hit different—stats jumped in tens, and feeling it firsthand exceeded expectations.
Survival had upgraded from 2nd to 1st grade too; detection range expanded massively. No more tedious tracking—what used to take scouting now pinged reflexively.
Shaking off the awe, I pulled my butchering dagger and rummaged the corpses.
"Looks gross, but watch closely. Slice smart to minimize blood."
"Ugh... Okay."
She grimaced but kept her eyes glued. Growing on me more by the minute. Had that promising junior vibe—no A-rank potential or anything, but solid.
"Mana stones are like monster hearts, so they're usually around there. Some species have 'em in the solar plexus or head—I'll point those out when we see 'em."
I sliced open a chest, yanked the mana stone in one cut, and handed it to her. Three mana stones and rusty daggers recovered in under ten seconds total. Skill I'd picked up grinding under Jeon So-young—unwanted, but useful.
"Oh, some newbies grab teeth or ears as souvenirs, but skip 'em. Worthless trash—no market. Zero value."
Saw that sometimes with chicks. Fine for mementos, but goblin bones were softer than roadside pebbles. Zero material worth. Civilians who couldn't enter dungeons collected 'em sometimes, but goblin teeth were too common to sell.
"Okay..."
I caught her slyly tossing aside a tooth she'd eyed—classic newbie move, easy to predict.
She carried all the loot. Fair, since she was just spectating.
"On to the next room. Stick right behind me—no wandering."
Dungeon rooms weren't walled off; invisible barriers segmented natural terrain. To find the next "door," you followed the transparent wall until it matched the surroundings—camouflaged that way for speed.
Next room, the one after—same deal: 3-4 injured goblins per pack. Since her main was a dagger, I demoed close-quarters too, pulping a few into goblin paste, and before I knew it, we hit the boss room.
Unlike the rest, the boss door was painted glaring red—obvious danger sign. But for this long-cleared dungeon, it looked more pathetic than threatening once you knew the spawns.
"Boss room door sure stands out."
Couldn't let a chick like her slack off, though—we'd breezed here too easily. Time to instill some tension before entry; a slip-up inside could be fatal.
"Boss is either the One-Eyed One-Armed Goblin Warrior or the Senile Goblin Shaman. Warrior's the easy one—stronger than the trash we've seen, wields random weapons. No slacking, and it's a breeze."
One-Eyed One-Armed was a weak boss. Bare-handed ones felt like regulars. Party standard, though—a solo 10th-grader would struggle.
If the Warrior was easy, the Senile Goblin Shaman was tricky.
"The Senile Goblin Shaman can be weak... or strong."
"What does that mean?"
"Can't predict its spells. Might be tickle curses—weak sauce—or buffs you smash quick. Problem is, sometimes it pulls above-10th-grade mojo."
That was why I'd come to this dungeon.