The City of Gloomy Rain

In the early days of the Cataclysm, rifts were catastrophes. Disasters that the world couldn't handle without pooling all its strength. There were simply too few awakened players back then. No systematic structure like we have now. Thanks to that, the world finally dropped its pointless national rivalries and cooperated against the rifts. And from that came the creation of the international organization, the AAU.

"Back in my day, we didn't have this bullshit going on."

Clunk—Park Minjae, head of the AAU Korea branch. He grabbed a canned coffee from the vending machine in the break room. Seong Hyunjun and Yoon Sugyeom held similar cans in their hands. Seong Hyunjun whispered softly.

"...No, senior. Who these days offers 'a cup of tea' and then buys a 300-won canned coffee? I never pegged the branch chief for such a cheapskate."

Tsk. Yoon Sugyeom smacked his lips in lieu of a reply. How long had it been since he'd bought one from a vending machine?

But the mood was off—no time to quibble over coffee types.

Psst—

"You all saw the news flood, right?"

"Yes, we did."

"I'm watching it now, and it pisses me off."

Seong Hyunjun's brow furrowed deeply.

"They're doing this on purpose, knowing full well! Would they blatantly post quests like this just for money or power if they didn't? As if Hoyeol-ssi is some idiot!"

"Exactly."

How many years had it been rolling in this filthy society? One thing Park Minjae had learned since his AAU branch chief title opened doors to government officials: playing dumb really drove people insane.

"All those smart folks from top universities—do they really not know what even us little people see plain as day? Nah, they're just pretending. Getting cursed at ain't new. They're gonna stonewall till the end."

He always thought it, but humans were sly as hell.

"Maybe humans and those demon bastards aren't so different after all."

"Come on, even you can't say that, branch chief..."

"No joke. Dead serious."

Now, with player numbers up and systems in place, normal appropriate-level rifts weren't a big threat to humanity. But if you asked if rift damage was zero?

Of course not.

"Not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like the early Cataclysm days, but innocent civilians die every damn day. And those higher-ups? Now that things are 'livable,' they start scheming in the shittiest directions?"

Last night—golden Sunday evening—Park Minjae got a call from a government contact.

"These guys got no manners, person to person. None."

Calling on a weekend? Even thinking back boiled his blood. Summing up the infuriating call:

Park Minjae sneered. "They want to control Lee Hoyeol for real."

"...What?!"

"Why? Things are getting out of hand."

Lee Hoyeol's actions so far? Top-tier power, yet no chase for wealth or fame. Just quietly clearing rifts like the early Cataclysm heroes. Who benefited most? Korea's government, obviously.

"From VIPs down. They pulled every bluff, real or not. Even if Hoyeol seems rogue, he's tied to us. Other countries falling for it? Makes sense—they think everyone's in 'mutual aid' mode."

...He'd suspected, but it was true?

High-level info spilling from the AAU branch chief's mouth. Yoon Sugyeom glanced around warily, whispering,

"Well, Inazuma started it, right?"

Inazuma's guild master, Hisagi Kazuma. Right after the Hokkaido Frost incident, he'd publicly declared cutting ties with the Japanese government in front of reporters. Criticism exploded—not just for breaching AAU accords, but their shady backroom deals.

Park Minjae snorted. "Think back carefully."

"...?"

"Only civilians and netizens bashed the Japanese government. No other nations— the ones who should care most—spoke up. What does that mean? They just weren't exposed. Their situations are the same."

And now AAU as the link.

"So the higher-ups want to swap that link for a dog collar. Ballsy, huh? One flick of a player's finger, and they'd die by the truckload."

...This wasn't just satisfying—it was hydrochloric acid.

Refreshing to hear, but the intensity made him glance around nervously.

Ting—

But Park Minjae tossed his empty can in the trash like he didn't give ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a damn. He continued,

"So they made me an offer."

"An offer?"

"Set up a nice meeting with Lee Hoyeol. Through me."

Yoon Sugyeom and Seong Hyunjun eyed Park Minjae carefully.

'...Must've been one hell of an offer.'

Other branches violated AAU accords for government ties—reasons aplenty. The chief surely got something huge too.

So the question:

Seong Hyunjun swallowed dryly. "But... is it okay telling us this much?"

Park Minjae chuckled. "Yeah, if I were doing something shady, I'd keep it quiet."

He flung open the break room door with a grin. "I'm rejecting it flat-out, so why not tell you?"

"?!"

Seong Hyunjun couldn't hide his shock. An offer that'd pressure anyone. Unspoken threats mixed in, plus material temptations.

As Park Minjae left, Seong Hyunjun spoke up. "Senior, weren't you surprised?"

"I was. Even as branch chief, he's the same old."

"...The same old?"

"Ah, you wouldn't know—short tenure."

Memories of his Cosmo days flooded back.

"Our Park branch chief was famous even as a regular employee."

"Famous? For what? Being a cheapskate?"

"Well, can't deny that, but..."

Yoon Sugyeom chuckled. "Out of hundreds of thousands of Cosmo employees worldwide, he was the only one who openly defied Raymon Sean himself. Our Park branch chief."

"...Wh-what?!"

Park Minjae tugged his stuffy tie. Damn developers and suits. Time for casual clothes from now on.

"Never know when shit might splash."

He recalled his vow. If he couldn't walk beside Lee Hoyeol, he'd clear the obstacles in his path. AAU? Higher-ups? Bring it.

Park Minjae's lips curled. "It's my specialty—ramming the top brass."

He'd done it to sky-high CEO Raymon Sean with even less backing. Park Minjae stretched lightly.

Alright. Where to start?

He sat at his branch chief desk. "I'll play with you all instead of Hoyeol."

Click—

"...What the hell is this?"

No immediate action needed. Maybe never.

Staring at his monitor, Park Minjae muttered,

"What kinda bullshit is this?!"

The screen showed live footage: fog so thick you couldn't see an inch ahead. Then subtitles appeared.

Exactly as it showed. London swallowed into rain-fog like mist.

*

Emergency. Petty squabbles vanished. Back to early Cataclysm days. This rift was on another level.

Yes, like the AAU-warned apocalypse beginning.

Guild ranking 7th, Britain's Second Sun. Guild master Shreyg fell silent.

Drip drip—

Staring at London in the downpour.

...Or could he call it London now?

Even perpetually cloudy London wasn't like this. True zero-visibility rain-fog. The entire spread was rift territory.

Bzzz—

Vibrations nonstop. Higher-ups demanding solutions, probably. But Shreyg's mind had stalled.

"...What the hell am I supposed to do?"

London entirely a rift. Meaning: London and its citizens gone inside.

Second Sun executive Jackery clung to reason. "It's not just civilians inside. Players too—our guild members among them. No big worry. They're handling it."

Shreyg gave a hollow laugh. "Haha... you really think that?"

"What?"

"This is beyond us. You know it."

The message before his eyes. Rift info.

High appropriate level? Fine. From Cracked Dimensional Gap to Temperate Labyrinth—higher ones existed.

Problem: Dungeon.

Those two letters before the name. Shreyg clutched his throbbing head.

"It's a dungeon. Can't just hunt monsters to clear. Fucking hell. Gotta stumble through to find clear conditions!!"

Back when Arcana was just a game, dungeons had infamous brutality. Simply: Predator Zone-level monsters everywhere, Labyrinth-level traps galore.

That's what dungeon meant.

Shreyg's voice rose. "If it were a game, I'd be thrilled. Worth ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the exp penalty—dungeon rewards make dying profitable. But it's not. Lives on the line."

To clear a dungeon: find the dungeon depths.

But packed with monsters and traps. And the scale? At least London-sized.

"Sorry, Jackery. I got no confidence."

Shreyg stared at his trembling hands. Fear. Rifts swallowing non-players? Unheard of before. Civilians couldn't even enter or see them.

But a dungeon? Swallowed London and citizens.

"My wife's in there!!"

Even civilians saw the alien rain-fog clearly. Endless shouts.

Shreyg gritted his teeth. "Goddamn it."

He wanted to charge in repeatedly. But he wasn't alone. Guild members followed him.

Dive planless? Waste exp—no, lives. He knew from game days.

What hero of the nation, hope of the country am I?

Powerlessness weighed him. Rain soaked him cold.

Not just Shreyg. Pouring rain crushed all watching fog-shrouded London. Depressed them. Enervated them. Unnaturally so.

Shreyg—no, everyone in the rain muttered,

"I can't do anything..."

Pour—

As their bodies chilled. Amid relentless rain. Footsteps sounded.

Click—

Amid crowds. One black umbrella spread. As if not tolerating a single drop on clothes. Holding it rigidly upright: one man.

He spoke. "Dost thou hear me, Shreyg."

"...?"

Shreyg's vision flickered.

Only then did Shreyg realize. ...When did I get statused?

Reflexively, he looked at the man who'd snapped him out. Black long umbrella, contrasting silver hair.

Hoyeol.

Before Shreyg could speak, Hoyeol continued. "I would ask thee to guide me through London, but is it possible?"

A status this widespread. Appropriate level screams demon king minimum.

Yeah, fits a dungeon boss.

Obviously, first time seeing a dungeon. How so calm? Not Grandfell's iron mask this time—my preparation.

Or rather, my desperation to break even shining.

Yes. The Map That Communes with All Things, used strategically.

Brooch on my jacket lapel asserting presence.

Yes. Beyond that rain-fog: the second Hexagram Brooch.