The Unqualified -2- [Q. One Unworthy of Misunderstanding]

There was a girl in love. With a boy who had straight, honest eyes and red hair.

Most students avoided him, saying he looked too sharp and intimidating, but to the girl, he was the boy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠whose face pierced her heart with a pop.

The girl's love was shy. Just being near him made her happy, and sharing a meal with him filled her with joy. She'd lie in her dorm bed, heart pounding, staying up all night.

Until the trouble with the evil woman he served.

The boy tormented the girl. He locked her in a wardrobe, claiming it was for her safety. He splashed wine on her dress with a sad smile. He played endless pranks that wounded her heart.

Yet the girl still liked him. There must be a reason, she'd tell herself.

But the dungeon incident became the turning point. She started hating the boy.

Her friends—whom she'd thought were on her side—had abandoned her in the dungeon. And the boy, who saved her just like he'd been waiting... she began to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠suspect him.

Why was he there? Why was he always tangled in bad situations? Fear crept into her.

She grew suspicious. What if the things she'd thought were forced weren't his will? What if the misfortunes around her were because of him?

Even though, that day in the dungeon when she was abandoned, the boy had done his utmost to protect her.

The boy thinks himself evil. It's true, but who knows how you see it.

Yuria froze at the sight of the blue window.

A clear ding rang out, and the chilling text snagged her ankle like a trap.

Her blood ran cold. An order to kill her friend. Her own story laid bare in detail—a story she'd never told anyone. And the clear turning point when she'd come to hate Ricardo.

Her body stiffened.

What the hell...

What did Ricardo even do...?

And who's Hans...?

Yuria rubbed her eyes and turned to Mikhail, who was checking his sword.

"Mikhail... I see something weird..."

"Something weird?"

She pointed at the blue window with her finger. Mikhail followed her hand, but there was nothing in the empty air.

He looked puzzled, not understanding what she meant or where she was pointing.

"I don't see anything. You too tense or something?"

"...You don't see anything?"

Yuria bit her lip hard.

Maybe she was too tense, like he said. But she couldn't deny the sharp, clear text staring her in the face.

She swallowed the questions rising to her lips. She didn't want to say something weird and kill the mood.

She didn't want to seem hysterical before exploring an unknown, undiscovered area.

Clenching her fists, Yuria forced a smile at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Mikhail.

"Nah... must've been seeing things."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

Mikhail eyed her evasiveness with concern. He could guess why she was like this.

It had been over a year. The dungeon straggler incident.

Mikhail didn't know the details from a year ago. He hadn't been there—just heard rumors.

What he clearly remembered was blood-soaked Ricardo carrying Yuria back.

That much, he remembered vividly.

Back then, he'd been grilling the guys who'd returned to the academy.

In the middle of the interrogation, Ricardo had appeared.

"Fuck. Thought I was gonna die."

Blood-drenched Ricardo handed Yuria over and vanished.

That was all Mikhail remembered of that day.

Ricardo had clammed up. Yuria couldn't remember.

There was nothing to say about it.

Before entering the eerie place, Mikhail reached out to the struggling Yuria.

"If it's too much, let's head back. Ruin and I can come down later and look."

"..."

Yuria shook her head with effort.

"No, it's just the cold."

Ignoring the floating blue window, she brushed off Mikhail's hand.

"What if Hans is hurt? You guys can't use healing magic."

He had no retort—it was spot on.

Hearing screams and running? Not their style. Not for these two idiots who'd once tried saving heretics.

They couldn't turn back after hearing cries.

Yuria stood tall.

"Let's go. I can do this."

A dark hole in the dungeon wall awaited. Pitch black, untouched by human hands—no torches, no lanterns.

Ruin, excited about the undiscovered area.

Mikhail, sensing ill omens.

Yuria, worried for her friend.

The three swallowed hard and stepped toward the depths.

The moment their feet crossed the threshold—

Yuria ignored the blue window with a stiff face.

It's nothing... probably.

She quelled her pounding heart.

*

The space beyond the wall was nothing special. No mighty monsters. No deadly traps. Just an ordinary room.

Except for the oppressive darkness. Without magic light, you couldn't see a thing.

Walls, paths, steady half-pace width. Nothing unusual.

About ten minutes in, bored Ruin started griping.

"What is this shit? No monsters, no items... I had hopes, but nothing? Hans must've looted it all."

"Quiet. Monsters might come."

"Quiet my ass. Haven't seen a single one."

"That's why be careful. Irregular shows up, you taking responsibility?"

Ruin bristled at Mikhail's caution. Sneaking along irked him, and the deeper they went, the thicker the foul stench grew.

Frowning at the nose-wrinkling odor, Ruin jabbed at Mikhail.

"Your breath stinks... Ugh. Brush your teeth next time."

Mikhail strode toward him amid the snide remark. Ruin backpedaled, cursing.

"Mad? Hit a nerve, huh?"

"Cut the crap and focus."

"Yeah, yeah, focus... Whoa!!!"

Thud!

Dodging Mikhail, Ruin tripped over something solid and fell.

"Fuck... annoying..."

As he pushed up from the floor—

"What the."

His hand squelched on something soft and alien.

He lowered his floating orb toward the ground.

"You okay?"

"Yeah... hold on, something's off."

Frozen by the creepy texture, Ruin had a chilling thought.

Not a rock. More like... kinda...

Hard yet soft. Like sitting on a living thing.

He cautiously aimed the orb down.

The light revealed the obstacle.

"Gah!!"

Ruin, perched on a human corpse, jolted up in horror.

Sticky fluids clung to his clothes—the source of the stench that'd numbed their noses.

"...Fuck..."

Seeing the corpse's form, he covered his mouth.

"Urp..."

"What, Ruin... Kyaa!!"

Yuria screamed and staggered back at the body on the floor.

She bent over, dry-heaving. Face pale green.

The corpse stared wide-eyed, breathless. Wearing the exploration team's patrol uniform.

Not one—several, lined up.

Mikhail, forcing a straight face at the sprawl, knelt and checked the neck.

Tilted the head back.

"Dead."

Confirming it.

Ruin, supporting shaken Yuria, glared at him.

"Fuck... what the hell."

"No idea."

"No... shit..."

Ruin raked his hair, mind reeling.

Bodies in the capital's dungeon.

Corpses in dungeons were common enough. But abandoned ones here? Not gloss-over territory.

This dungeon was for academy kids' safety—finals for first-years, most assignments.

No life-threatening monsters. Constant patrols by explorers.

Dead meant murder. Clearly.

Suddenly, an eerie aura prickled their skin.

-Grraaaahhh!!!

Another strange man's scream. Ruin's hackles rose.

His cocky smirk faded. Mikhail, stone-faced, channeled mana into his sword.

Novice aura as last resort. Tense, scanning.

Chill wind blew again.

Mikhail decided. To Yuria and Ruin:

"We're going back."

"What the fuck, man."

"Back."

Ruin snapped at the retreat call, but he sensed the gravity too. Still, worried for his friend.

Mikhail stayed calm.

"Something's wrong."

Things were off. He shielded panting Yuria and headed for the entrance.

"Give up."

"What?"

"Give up and go back. Not our problem."

He urged retreat, but Ruin shook his head loud.

"Bullshit. We're almost there..."

"That's why—before it's too late."

"What about Hans? Let him die?"

Ruin saw Mikhail as scared. With that mindset, what can you do? Sneering, he strode opposite the entrance—toward the screams.

"Scaredy-cat. Pussy."

Mikhail reached to grab him. Stop. Come back.

But—

"What."

Ruin halted abruptly. Mikhail stopped too.

Vast space. Like where a dungeon boss sleeps. Dark, high ceiling. Circular arena.

Center: massive red magic circle in blood.

And amid the chaos—a familiar man with a creepy grin.

Plain looks, black glasses. Model student vibe.

The missing student they'd sought: Hans.

Ruin walked slowly toward the circle's heart. Entranced. Eyes disbelieving. Why are you here?

"Hey... Hans, what're you doing here?"

Hans turned at the sound. Saw Ruin. Casual as ever.

"Oh... Ruin? Yuria and Mikhail too..."

Smiling nonchalantly amid corpses. Goosebumps crawled over Ruin.

Hans waved. Blood-soaked hand. Muttering eerie ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠words.

"Didn't expect my first demo on you guys... Guess it's fate?"

Up close, Ruin's voice shook. This isn't my friend.

"What're you doing here..."

"Can't you tell?"

"What?"

"Studying. Trying to keep up with talents like you."

Hans's innocent eyes gleamed at Ruin.

"Self-studying alone."

"You won't interrupt, right?"

The red circle under his feet glowed.

"Don't wanna kill you. We're friends."

A supporting character, consumed by the talent gap, turning to the Archbishop of Greed with black magic. Hans smiled innocently at Ruin.