Red Carpet, Not a Graveyard
The hospital air always felt heavy and cold.
The smell of alcohol and antiseptic stung at the tip of my nose. People called it the scent of death, but to me it was nothing more than the familiar smell of everyday life.
I stood at the accounts window with a perfectly flat expression.
"Sir, about this month's outstanding balance—"
The nurse's eyes went wide.
The hospital bills had been creeping further and further behind for the past few months, and now I'd wiped out the scheduled treatment fees for this month all at once. No wonder she was surprised. It came from the money I'd earned on the first floor yesterday, plus part of the severance I'd received from my recommended-resignation settlement.
"You're fully paid up. Goodness... sir, you've been through so much. I'm so glad."
Relief was woven through her voice. She'd had to send reminders every month; her conscience couldn't have been comfortable either.
I gave a calm nod.
"Yes. I don't think it'll fall behind again for a while."
My bank account thinned out rapidly, yet somehow my steps felt as light as feathers. I'd pre-ordered a piping hot spicy braised seafood stew, freshly steamed, from a restaurant near the hospital, and headed up to the sixth-floor ward.
Creeeeak.
In the corner of the shared room, the innermost bed — beyond a faded curtain, my gaunt mother slept, propped against an IV line.
The curse that had arrived with the Tower: Mana Reflux Syndrome. A rare disease where mana circuits form in the body only to warp into deformed shapes, gradually petrifying the victim from head to toe while gnawing away at their life force.
"...Doyun, is that you?"
Sensing a presence, perhaps? Mother struggled her eyes open. I hurried to sit at her bedside and took hold of her withered hand.
"Yes, Mom. I'm here."
"My son... why does your face look so haggard? Are you eating properly? Is something stressing you out at work?"
I forced the corners of my mouth upward.
"The company takes great care of me. How are you feeling?"
Mother looked me up and down in my crisp suit before finally seeming a little reassured.
"Me? Same as always. You're the one working the hardest, my son. Your company work... it's not dangerous, is it?"
"Dangerous? Mom, you know better. I'm desk staff. My whole job is arguing with a monitor under air conditioning all day. I'm bored to death, honestly."
A practiced lie.
Ever since Father had died in the Tower, the word hunter had become taboo to Mother — fear itself. Because I understood that feeling, I'd spent all these years never stepping forward as a hunter, living as if dead.
But... there's nowhere left to retreat now.
With even the empty title of one-man team leader gone, this was the only way left to afford her hospital bills.
...Though if she ever found out, Mother would faint dead away.
I brushed the bitter thought aside and gently patted the back of her hand.
"Oh, and I brought your favorite braised seafood stew today. I asked them to make it spicy, so it should wake up your appetite."
When I held up the bag, a clear smile bloomed across Mother's face.
"Why do you keep buying things like this...?"
"What's wrong with your son treating you? Shall we go to the lounge and eat together? Eat up and get your strength back — that's how you get better fast."
That's what she said, but I could tell she was secretly pleased — after nothing but bland hospital food, having her son bring her a meal had clearly lifted her spirits.
...And in a way, it twisted something in my chest.
They said the disease had no cure.
Well, that's only the limit of modern medicine. It's not that there's no way at all...
Getting help from someone who'd awakened special powers, or from a special artifact, would take an astronomical sum of money. We were talking tens, even hundreds of billions of won — a pipe dream for a salaryman's lifestyle, sure...
But when I think of what a successful hunter earns? It's not impossible at all.
I made up my mind.
I would move Mother into a private room — no, a luxury suite — and shake off that wretched disease for good. For the sake of my only family, the one person who'd stood unconditionally on my side, I was more than ready to move.
"You came straight from work, you must be exhausted. Go home and rest. I'm fine, really."
"Okay. I'll come again tomorrow."
As I stepped out of the room, I could feel her waving at me until the very last moment. Carrying that warmth with me, I turned away.
...I definitely felt like my purpose had grown sharper than before I'd come to the hospital.
The next day.
I finished my preparations for the Tower.
The suit and shirt I always wore. And the mask.
Lastly, I pulled a two-million-won crafting knife out of my pocket.
Realizing this is literally my entire loadout does make it feel a bit bare...
Not that I had money to buy anything else. Still, I found myself wondering if I should start carrying a briefcase at some point.
The figure staring back at me from the full-length mirror was... frankly, quite the spectacle.
Not an easy look to pull off... even I can see that.
This industry had its share of oddballs, but this was pushing it. I'd seen attention-seeking hunters from [Midas] wear flashy outfits for their streams, but aCorporate-slave concept this ridiculous was unprecedented.
And for all their outward show, those guys wore expensive artifacts piled high with gaudy decoration — not one of them would ever walk into a dungeon in nothing but a scrap of office shirt. Unless they were trying to die, that is.
Well, maybe someday, once I'm rich and famous and the Midas crowd comes sniffing around, I could try streaming myself...
I indulged in the idle fantasy for a moment, then shook my head. Most streaming hunters were B-Rank and below who couldn't crack into a corporate party anyway. Playing the clown with my life as collateral wasn't the path I was walking now.
Meanwhile, once I'd straightened my clothes and cleared my head, it didn't take long to reach my destination — the Tower's 2nd floor, A-2 Sector.
The Blade Wind Graveyard — the dungeon the Hunter Administration Bureau had, unusually, opened to the public.
The moment I arrived on-site, the weight of the air against my skin was different. A heavy, murderous pressure — nothing like the clumsy liveliness of the first floor I'd visited recently.
When I turned my head, beyond the yellow control lines the Bureau had set up, a crowd swarmed like a flock of storm clouds.
With the first floor so nearby, and the intel spreading further than expected, they must have set it all up to keep anyone from wandering in by accident.
They really did spread the information properly.
From on-site reporters to representatives of the country's top guilds, hyenas had gathered to scavenge every scrap of intel about the newly opened dungeon.
"Hey, you there, sir! Civilians may not come any closer!"
Hunter Administration Bureau (HMB) hunters held the line, keeping the crowd back.
I stood behind the crowd and surveyed the hunters who'd arrived before me.
Gleaming full-body plate armor, mana-infused robes... even epic-grade weapons that visibly groaned under their own worth. These were the real deal — a different breed entirely from the greenhorns of the first floor, right down to their polish.
And among them, one group drew the eye above all. Deep navy uniforms bearing a dragon crest.
[Mir]... So they did come after all.
Unlike Arc Industry, where I'd worked, they were a colossal guild that competed not through industry ties but purely through raw hunter strength and combat capability. Even at a glance their raid looked difficult — the kind that usually went untouched — so they must have taken an investigation commission from the Hunter Administration Bureau.
Burly men held the front line, and at the very back of the formation...
...Team Leader Kim Han-na?
A familiar face.
The same woman who'd been training rookies until yesterday was now hauling supplies through those gaps like the team's errand girl, doing support work.
Seniority meant nothing in front of a high-risk dungeon like this — even a seasoned veteran was just another support hand. Reality, showing itself off.
And the surprising faces didn't stop there.
...?
That was the Arc Special Response Team, wasn't it?
In a corner of the crowd, a sharp-featured man in near-black combat armor, arms crossed, eyes slicing toward the gate.
I couldn't tell exactly who he was, but the uniform made it certain: our company's Special Response Team.
Not a regular survey team — the direct-action combat unit.
Those hunters who swept up results with undeniable skill wherever money smelled strongest... I hadn't expected them here.
Well, judging by their numbers this wasn't a full-scale raid. Given how loudly the Bureau was raising the alarm, they'd probably come to test the waters — to see whether the place was truly as lucrative as advertised.
Beyond them, the roster went on: [Cheka], [Ohseong], [Dokkaebi], [Midas]...
Named companies and organizations that anyone would recognize on sight, lined up shoulder to shoulder.
And I walked straight into the middle of them all.
A man in a suit and mask — utterly unfit for a battlefield — strode up step by unhurried step, and just like on the first floor, the surrounding gazes naturally skewered him.
"...Do you know him?"
"No. He's not in the database."
"His weapon..."
The murmurs trailed at my back. But as I pressed forward regardless, one of the Bureau hunters guarding the control line moved to block me.
"Hold on! Civilians can't come in here! The situation right now is—"
Given the scale of the operation, this specially dispatched 1st Rank Bureau hunter apparently took me for just another attention-seeking nut-tuber; he grabbed for my arm to haul me back down the line.
Swhish.
I didn't break stride. I only turned my upper body — a fraction of an inch.
"Uh... wha—?"
The hand of a 1st Rank Bureau hunter — someone who should have easily controlled even veteran hunters from rival guilds — flailed through empty air. He was certain he'd grabbed me, yet it had slipped through like a mirage.
As the flustered hunter wobbled off balance, I brushed past him, flashing the hunter certification I'd drawn from my breast pocket like a sleight of hand.
"Not a civilian. I'll be going through."
"...Huh? You're a hunter?"
He'd dodged aside on pure reflex, so the whole exchange was awkward at best — his face full of nothing but bewilderment. He squinted, trying to look again and check whether the license was forged, who I even was — but I was already past the control line.
Beyond it, the exploration work had apparently already begun; a fair bit of bustle hung in the air.
Kim Han-na, gathering gear on the Mir side, turned her head — and when she spotted me, her eyes nearly popped out of her skull.
The Arc Special Response Team hunter, on the other hand, watched me cross the control line, glanced me over once, and let out a small, dismissive snort.
Every kind of lunatic in the world, huh. He'll get shredded the moment he steps in.
That was probably the gist of his expression.
And fair enough — once I'd crossed the line and looked around, the situation was unmistakably grim.
Because even Mir and Dokkaebi, already dug in at the front, couldn't get through. They were bottled up at the entrance.
The Blade Wind Graveyard.
According to Bureau intel, the mana concentration was so high that mana detection was scrambled, while invisible vacuum blades whipped through the air.
Whatever the destructive power was, it was clearly immense — Mir was carefully inching forward under expensive mana-detection drones, mapping out safe routes, and even tech-savvy [Dokkaebi] was analyzing the space by sending in specially crafted mana dolls.
But...
BANG! POP-POP!
"AAAGH! Again—!"
"Drone's blown to bits. Is this really the right way to approach this?"
Dokkaebi's mana doll had its limbs sheared off in an instant and went tumbling across the ground, while Mir's drones exploded like a fireworks display.
"No help for it! Force them in like this if you have to — just find us a route!"
Even with giant guilds pouring in equipment and capital, they couldn't set foot inside freely, pacing anxiously at the entrance the whole while.
And I, with no special scanning gear of my own, simply strode in among them, step by steady step.
"Hey! Are you insane?!"
"There's no path up there! Stop!"
Someone shouted urgently behind me.
Some must have pictured the drone that had blown apart moments ago — or the mana doll, tough as it was, being sliced up like tofu — and squeezed their eyes shut.
But in that moment...
Shhhk—!
Amid the mana dolls being carved apart and the drone shrapnel spraying from the barrage of losses...
Not that any of them can see what I see.
I walked calmly forward.
The world had turned ashen — and the trajectories of those vacuum blades were achingly vivid to my eyes.
Tens of thousands of Red Solid Lines at the very least, dancing like mad through the empty air. From a distance, all that red would flood your entire field of vision — but up close...
The gaps are enormous.
It was as if children had clumsily scattered string to keep people out. Vacant space overflowed everywhere.
The corners of my mouth twisted on their own.
This was...
'Graveyard' doesn't really fit. 'Red carpet' sounds more like it.
I snorted a quiet laugh, slid my hands into my pockets, and stepped leisurely onto the red path.
Days until I quit