Why Is the Summon Completely Fine?
Whoosh—!
Slash—!
Slash—!
Slash—!
The zombies kept multiplying. The more I cut them down, the more of them there seemed to be. From somewhere deep inside the palace, they poured out without end, throwing themselves at me.
But I never stopped walking.
Stop here, and it was over. I had to keep pushing forward.
Slash—!
Slash—!
A path of blood took shape beneath my feet. Everywhere I stepped was slick with zombie flesh and gore.
How much farther had I gone?
Finally!
The throne came into view.
Seated upon it was a zombie wearing a golden crown — clearly a king in life. That hardly mattered to me. What I fixed my eyes on was the fist-sized black orb floating above the throne. That was what I had to destroy.
Maybe it was because the goal was right in front of me. Strength seemed to surge back into my limbs.
I kept swinging.
Slash—!
Slash—!
My sword danced like a whip, severing zombie necks. Flesh and blood sprayed in every direction.
“Hah. Hah.”
Ragged breaths tore from my throat. My inner energy was nearly spent, and my body was at its limit. Without the Body Fortification Art, I would have been finished long ago.
Just a little farther. That was all. Then I would set a record no one would believe — clearing the Zombie Kingdom alone. No gun. Nothing but a sword.
As far as I knew, no superhuman had ever pulled off a stunt like this on the lower floors.
Just a little more!
Thud.
Thud.
My feet seemed to move on their own now. The sword moved with them.
Slash—!
Slash—!
With every step I took, zombies died. Heads flew. Arms were sheared off. Torsos split clean through.
I wasn’t walking away unscathed, either.
Hiss—!
Kh.
A shallow cut across my back. Another along my thigh. One more at my side. The wounds kept stacking up — but none of them were deep. Small mercies.
I threw everything I had left into pressing forward. Every last scrap of strength.
And then I was standing before the throne.
“Grrrrr—!!”
The crowned zombie snarled at me, rose from the throne, and lunged with jaws wide open.
“Kwaaaaargh—!”
King or not, a zombie was still a zombie. I twisted aside and slipped past its teeth.
In the same instant, more of them came at me from every angle — fangs aimed at my throat, claws reaching for the flesh of my side, even one diving low to sink its teeth into my leg.
I was out of room to dodge. Out of strength to run.
But I still had one option left.
I put everything I had — every ounce of power left in my body — into a single swing.
Whoosh—!
My target wasn’t the crowned zombie king.
It was the black orb floating right in front of me.
Crack—!
The sword stretched like a whip and split the orb clean through. Shards of black crystal exploded outward in every direction.
Done.
That orb had been the real objective from the start. Destroy it, and everything ended.
The world shuddered.
Every zombie charging toward me froze mid-motion — as if time itself had stopped. They hung there, locked in place, utterly still.
And then I saw it: the golden crown.
Almost without thinking, I reached out and closed my hand around it.
In that instant, the world collapsed.
“Ugh.”
I staggered. I nearly went down on one knee — but Cheonma caught me and held me up.
“He’s covered in blood!”
“Get a doctor, now!”
“A-are you all right?!”
The area erupted into noise. My body was a mess of blood; of course they were panicking.
Then I spotted the commander I’d met before.
“It can’t be — Kim Sinhyeok?!”
“…So you recognize me now.”
“Never mind that — are you all right? You look terrible!”
“Ah, I’m fine. Just a few scrapes and a little exhaustion.”
“I-is that so?”
The commander’s expression shifted into something closer to confusion as he looked between me and Cheonma.
The summon who should have been fighting was completely unharmed. Not a scratch. Her clothes looked brand new, and her skin was clean and fresh. The summoner, on the other hand, looked like he’d fought a war by himself — clothes shredded, soaked head to toe in blood.
Anyone would find that strange.
“What on earth…?”
“It’s a long story. More importantly — when’s the doctor getting here?”
“Any moment now!”
The doctor arrived shortly. He recognized me too, and clearly found the whole scene bizarre — but he stuck to his job and focused on treatment. Fortunately, nothing was seriously damaged. A thorough disinfection and a few bandages were all I needed.
“Please take it easy for the next few days.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
I filled out the necessary paperwork and headed back up. No gun to return this time, so I walked straight out of the building.
“I-it’s Kim Sinhyeok!”
“Kim Sinhyeok!!”
“Sinhyeok! What took you so lo— wait?”
“Sinhyeok’s hurt?!”
The reporters were still waiting outside in force. The moment they saw me, shock rippled through the crowd. I was still painted in blood, bandages wrapped all over my body — the very picture of a walking patient.
“Sinhyeok! What happened?!”
“Was there an accident inside the dungeon?!”
“Why is Cheonma completely fine?!”
“What exactly went on in there?!”
“Did you clear the dungeon?!”
The questions came in a barrage. Everyone was worked up.
Instead of answering, I raised my right hand.
In it gleamed a golden crown — the single greatest prize of this dungeon clear.
“That’s—!”
“The crown of the Zombie Kingdom’s king?!””
“The Zombie Kingdom is supposed to be one of the easier lower-floor dungeons, right?”
“But bringing the crown out from a lower floor? That’s almost unheard of, isn’t it?”
A few reporters muttered among themselves, struggling to make sense of what they were seeing.
I left them behind and kept walking. I was too exhausted for a press conference.
“Handle it.”
“Yes.”
I didn’t need to give my clone a long set of instructions. One word was enough.
Cheonma stepped forward, and the crowd parted on its own.
“Hah!”
“Ch-Cheonma!”
The reporters opened a path without being asked. Cheonma must have done something — but that didn’t matter right now.
I pushed through them with a bone-weary face.
Haa… I just want to wash up and sleep.
I’d never been through anything this grueling. Solo-clearing a dungeon? It was not easy. Today had driven that lesson home hard.
The moment I got home, I showered and collapsed into bed. I was out the second my head hit the pillow. I must have been more exhausted than I realized.
When I opened my eyes, morning light was already spilling through the window. I hadn’t slept as long as I’d hoped — maybe five hours, give or take.
Strangely, though, my body felt light. Comfortable, even. Maybe it was the extra inner energy I’d gained. Either way — inner energy really was the best.
I got up, washed my face, and sat down to breakfast with Cheonma.
“Mm. This is delicious. Did you make it yourself?”
“This? I just pan-fried a pre-made pack.”
I’d bought fried rice online, tossed it in a pan, and served it — and Cheonma loved it. Apparently her tastes weren’t as refined as I’d expected.
“How are your injuries?”
“Hm? Fine, actually. Guess I really didn’t get hurt that badly.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
I’d already taken the bandages off completely. Everything felt fine.
Then, out of nowhere, my phone rang.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzt.
Out of habit, I checked the screen. I didn’t usually pick up unknown numbers.
This time, though, I knew exactly who it was.
Someone I knew all too well.
And still, my hand wouldn’t move.
📞 Mom
Bzzzt.
Bzzzt.
The phone kept vibrating. I reached for it, then hesitated. A cold sweat prickled at the back of my neck.
Then my clone spoke.
“Why aren’t you answering?”
“Ah… r-right. I should.”
Her words snapped me out of it. I took the call.
“…Hello.”
“Sinhyeok! Are you all right?!”
Her voice came through the speaker, sharp with panic. My mother’s voice.
“I saw it on the news — you were hurt! Was it serious?!”
For a moment, her worry left me speechless.
It had been months since I’d last spoken to her. Half a year, at least, by my count. And the last call hadn’t ended well.
I snapped at them for no good reason.
It was right after everything had fallen apart. I’d been a mess, and I’d said things that cut deep. After that, things between us had gone cold — and now, after all this time, here she was calling me.
“Honey, don’t worry so much. Sinhyeok will be fine.”
“You saw him too! He was covered in blood from head to toe!”
Dad’s voice came through as well. They must have been together.
Honestly, I’d assumed my parents resented me. Because of me, they’d suffered, and my little sister had been hurt too.
But people always said a parent’s love never changes, didn’t they?
They were still worrying about me. Something warm and tight caught in my chest.
I put on a steady voice.
“…I’m fine. Barely got hurt.”
“Really?! Are you sure?!”
“See? I told you he’d be fine!”
“And who was the one nagging me to call him first?”
“Ahem.”
Hearing their voices after so long felt good. A smile pulled at my mouth on its own.
“How have you two been?”
“Just fine! Don’t you worry about us — we’re doing wonderfully!”
“What about Sehye? How’s she doing?”
“…Ahem.”
The warm mood cooled a little at the mention of my sister. So things with her hadn’t changed much.
“Still not doing well, huh?”
“D-don’t worry. She’s gotten a lot better, actually. She’s even going back to school!”
“Really? That’s a relief.”
Something in my chest loosened at Mom’s words. A quiet smile of relief settled on my face before I even noticed it.