Server Tip: Clear Rift Dungeons to Earn Server Points

There was plenty to do on the Earth server as well. The Growth Pass was full of conditions that could only be fulfilled here, after all.

"Honestly, Earth dungeons just don't tempt me."

It was true that even though I'd gone out to test Double Attack last time, the rewards from monsters and the resources you could scrape out of Earth dungeons amounted to barely one percent of what the 100x server offered. That didn't exactly light a fire under me to go dungeon diving.

Any other hunter in my position would feel the same way, probably. Why do hunters delve into dungeons in the first place? Money! Experience! Skill levels! The thrill of braving danger for unknown, rare resources! The chance, however slim, of landing a great item!

For me, every single one of those gambles could be taken on a server where all of them get multiplied by a hundred. By comparison, an Earth dungeon was just a hunting ground with pathetic payouts. On top of that, my character was synced—meaning the levels and skills I'd raised on the 100x server were more than enough to dress up a hunter's license impressive enough to show off to anyone. So the disincentive was doubled.

If that tip had never appeared, I would've just finished out the Growth Pass objectives and called it a day.

"Server Points? Then yeah, I'm going."

But now that I knew where Server Points came from, things were different. Rewards are everything. The rest of the loot could be garbage for all I cared—Server Points were an absolute must-grab, an insane jackpot of a reward!

"Main quests on the 100x server, Rift Dungeons on Earth." With farming methods that limited, this was content I absolutely could not afford to pass up when the opportunity knocked.

The Hunter Gallery wasn't the only place drowning in news of the rift dungeon—the broadcast channels were running it into the ground too. Rift dungeons didn't appear every single day, but their existence was old news; they'd been showing up for years.

"Might as well go see if all that grinding paid off."

I hadn't wanted to go to dungeons because the rewards were meager. But at the end of the day, I'd raised my level and my skill levels to flaunt my power in higher-tier dungeons and actually feel my growth. And what better stage for that than a Rift Dungeon spewing out genuinely dangerous monsters, instead of the middling F and E-rank holes I'd been avoiding?

Refusing to ignore the timing of this convenient invitation, I headed straight for Olympic Park.

Chaos on the roads. Barricades and guide tape stretched across the lanes. Control personnel shouting through megaphones.

"Road closure due to a rift dungeon outbreak!! Civilians, please take alternate routes!!!"

Association staff and hunters stood at regular intervals along the perimeter, bellowing the same warning over and over so that no one could claim they'd wandered in unknowingly. Beyond the cordon, a large crowd milled about, gawking and worrying.

Truth be told, once a rift dungeon opens, it's hard to accidentally get anywhere near it. The dungeon entrance rippled enormously at the center of the zone, radiating an aura that made you not want to approach even from a distance.

"Step back, please. This area is under control."

"I'm a hunter. I'm here to volunteer for the rescue."

"Oh! May I see your license, please?"

"Here."

When a rift dungeon forms—or more precisely, when an existing dungeon expands into a rift dungeon—its entrance swells and begins sucking in and swallowing the people around it. The longer that phase lasts, the larger the rift grows, and the cycle repeats. Then, past a certain threshold, it starts spitting out the monsters inside, and that continues until the dungeon collapses. That's the full life cycle of a rift dungeon, from birth to death.

So from humanity's perspective, preventing rift dungeons from forming in the first place is ideal—but once one appears, nothing matters more than crushing it in the early stages. Even the monsters inside an F-rank rift dungeon come out empowered, so it was standard practice to accept hunter volunteers whenever a rescue force was assembled.

"Ah, verified. Thank you. Head straight in this way and you'll reach the staging area."

The control officer glanced at my F-rank license, hesitated for a beat, looked me up and down, and then waved me through. Maybe the F-rank alone seemed iffy. With level 15 on my sheet, though, they'd apparently decided to just let me in.

"Not that many hunters here, huh."

Inside the cordon, the hunters gathered at the so-called staging area numbered maybe fifty at most. A lot, or a little, depending on how you looked at it. Considering how many civilians had been dragged inside, I'd have thought they'd want more.

"Is that her? Ryu Hyeju?"

"God, she's gorgeous."

"Told you, S-rank."

"This'll be over in no time."

Every gaze in the gathering drifted toward one spot. Leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, red hair tied back in a ponytail, stood a tall, striking beauty roughly my height—and the crowd's worries visibly melted away at the sight of her.

A tank top revealing an eleven-line midsection without an ounce of excess fat, a nipped-in waist, a leather jacket slung over her shoulders. Shorts that left her thighs bare. Leather boots climbing up to her calves. And over it all, the chill radiating off that expressionless, indifferent face—a cold beauty that made hearts race.

A hunter who was both beautiful and strong. It was only natural to want to lean on an S-rank like her; she inspired more trust than a whole truckload of random warm bodies.

"The rescue team enters in five minutes! Hunters, please gather here—your cooperation is appreciated!!"

At the announcement from the hunter coordinating the scene, the scattered volunteers converged. Ignoring any pretense of orderly ranks, the crowd clustered together—and out of it stepped a man wearing an insufferably arrogant expression.

"Good afternoon. I'm Kim Hyeon-soo of Taeseong Guild, commanding the first rescue detachment."

And there it was—a name I knew far too well. Casually, I raised my phone, snapped a photo from a distance, and fired off a message.

So that was confirmation. Seeing his face in person, I finally understood why Lee Arin had chosen the Association over Taeseong. He was supposedly in his mid-thirties, but his face read as past forty—and that was before you factored in the short stature and the potbelly straining against his suit.

"With an estimated five hundred or more civilians caught in the rift, S-rank Hunter Ryu Hyeju and our B-rank hunters have graciously set aside their valuable time to be here. We will suppress the rift swiftly, so I trust you will all follow my commands without fail."

That greasy tone. Those condescending eyes. Maybe it was the face, but even without him saying anything outright, the man oozed a slick, self-important vibe that triggered pure instinctive revulsion. And this was the guy Lee Arin had dodged—though as an alchemist, she wouldn't have been much use in combat anyway.

I clapped along with everyone else regardless. The Growth Pass objective was simply to clear the rift dungeon. I didn't need to bust my ass; hitching a ride on this bus would net me the Server Points all the same. Might as well cheer the driver on enthusiastically from the back seat.

And so Kim Hyeon-soo took point with the Taeseong Guild hunters trailing behind him, and together with the rest of the volunteer rescue force, we crossed the gate ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the rift dungeon. The moment we did—

The interior that unfolded alongside the quest window was pandemonium, plain and simple.

"KYAAAAAH!"

"Get back!! Don't come out!"

The classic reactions of people encountering monsters for the first time were erupting from every direction. A full hour had passed since the rift dungeon appeared, and the panic still hadn't settled. The hunters who'd been swept in alongside the civilians were doing their utmost to hold the line, but you can't easily control hundreds of panicking people with a handful of men.

And corpses weren't exactly rare sights either.

"Brutal."

The rescue force moved without hesitation. This clearly wasn't their first rodeo—working from what seemed like a rehearsed manual, they cleared out the nearby monsters and calmed the crowd down piece by piece.

"An S-rank hunter has arrived! Everyone, follow the controls and calmly gather this way!! Injured, come to the front—Taeseong Guild is providing HP potions!! Everyone to this side, please!!"

Even without trying to keep an eye on her, the red-haired woman carving through the chaos was overwhelmingly conspicuous.

CRUNCH!

Her fist swung, and the air itself seemed to detonate. The flesh of a hulking monster caved in as the creature went flying.

GWOOOOOAR!

Even in an F-rank rift dungeon, I knew plenty of D and C-rank monsters could spawn. And right in the middle of my admiration—

A green-skinned monster easily clearing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠two meters came barreling toward us.

"Uh-oh."

"An Ogre!!"

"No, wait—a Growing Ogre."

"Isn't that thing C-rank?"

"STOP IT!! There are civilians right there!!"

"Oh, come the hell on. Who's supposed to stop an Ogre?!"

It was the miracle of Moses. The hunters guarding the area parted like the Red Sea before the charging beast.

The name and number floating above its head. Before I knew what I was doing, I planted myself squarely in its path.

Because it was a boss-tier monster? Because it was worth a whole 2 Server Points? Because there were civilians in its path? Whatever the mix of reasons, the biggest one was simple curiosity.

"Whoa, what are you doing?!"

"Watch out!!"

The hunters' shouts rang out around me. Somebody had to stop it either way. If nobody did, the panicking civilians wouldn't just be blocked—they'd be trampled to death.

I raised my guard and called out.

"Hardening!!"

With a flash of light, the shadow of the ogre swallowed everything around me. In the same instant, the impact hit.

BOOOM!!!!

So this is what it feels like to be run over by a dump truck. The air punched clean out of my lungs. But I didn't budge an inch.

Through the gap in my guard, I could see the brute's snarling mass of muscle. The ogre, which had thrown its full weight into a shoulder-first charge, stood frozen in place—baring its teeth at me with eyes full of murderous fury.