The Soul-Eating Labyrinth
The Soul-Eating Labyrinth sat smack in the middle of a massive domed stadium in Guro-gu, Seoul. For a dungeon, it was unusually right in the heart of the city.
Dungeons typically started as gates, evolved into fields, then fully formed into dungeons—but the timeline varied wildly from one to the next. Word was, this one had popped up perfectly timed about five years ago, right after the sports schedule wrapped and the place shut down for a week. By the time the team and city officials caught on, it was too late to do much. And since it turned out to be a special dungeon, they couldn't raid it, letting five whole years slip by.
The fallout for the team staff and city hall bureaucrats was no joke. There were even jokes that the dungeon had sucked their souls dry, earning it the nickname Soul-Eating Labyrinth.
Though that's probably just the monsters inside.
With no other choice, Seoul City Hall was patching up the losses by hyping it as a tourist trap of sorts. The gaping Abyss-type scar in the center of the dome, clashing with the stadium's vibe, did draw a crowd.
"Up we go."
I slowed as the nearby subway station came into view—a big, boxy building hugging the river, impossible to miss.
...When's she getting here?
I'd driven straight from Cha-sun-myeon in Gangwon-do to Guro-gu like always. Yelena was at least A+-rank, so I figured she'd catch up quick. Guess not.
"Hmm."
I scanned the area, waiting for her. Built for more than just baseball, the dome had plenty of open space around it. Five years back, it'd probably been packed with vendors and events. Now it buzzed with hunters prepping for dungeon runs. Early morning meant some had set up camps, checking gear underneath.
Clang... Clang...
Their voices mixed with tool clinks and machine whirs, echoing around. Under colorful tents, they pored over maps of the interior, swapping advice, plotting routes. A few had already returned, patching minor wounds from the delve while divvying up loot.
As expected from an S-rank dungeon, the vibe was worlds apart from B-rank or lower spots. No casual faces here—pure focus. Crowded and chaotic, sure, but with an underlying order.
Hunter entrance over there. Tourists on that side.
The dome had two big passages: north for hunters, south for sightseers. Along the neatly paved asphalt by Anyang Stream, food trucks lined up selling ice cream and snacks.
[Gelatino]
[Hairy Dog's Hot Dogs]
[Sweet & Sour Fruit Smoothie]
The summer heat had kids grinning around chocolate ice cream cones and smoothies near the tourist path.
Maybe grab one...
I eyed a chocolate cone, but my gaze drifted to the hot dog truck. The owner scowled in the heat, shooing flies.
Huh? That asshole looks familiar...
Whoosh!
"Huff! Huff!"
By the time I'd circled the dome, Yelena finally showed—white armor gleaming in the morning sun, blonde hair a sweaty, disheveled mess.
"What took you so damn long?"
"Huff! Soo-hyeok! You're! Huff! Too fast! Hngh!"
She panted hard, still catching her breath.
"Come on, let's chill with some ice cream."
"Hng..."
She shot me a pouty glare, but handed her a chocolate cone and she melted right away.
"...Where's the entrance?"
"Think it's this way."
We munched our cones amiably, heading to the bustling north hunter zone. Up close, the returning delvers looked rough.
"Our Father in heaven..."
"H-Hngh...!"
They trembled like they'd seen horrors unfit for mortal eyes. S-rank meant no amateurs—probably A to A+ ranks, big names in the biz, pupils dilated in terror.
Small mercy: no major wounds. S-ranks were too swamped for personal runs anyway. Gu-guk Guild with Lee Shin-yul was the exception.
"This is bad."
Yelena paused mid-lick, spooked.
"...Hmph."
"Don't chicken out. This ain't called Royal Guardians for nothing."
"Mm, true."
She fiddled with her white armor, reassured. Royal Guardians Type 12—the "12" wasn't decoration. Each type packed unique abilities; this one had fear resistance.
"...Huh?"
Then I spotted someone in similar armor shuddering in the corner.
"What? Soo-hyeok?"
"Nah, nothing. Let's go."
I spun Yelena around quick, marching to the dome. Probably not. Just a lookalike white suit.
Yeah. Right. Cost me 200 million won.
Inside the north entrance, sunlight poured through the open dome roof. A massive rift scarred the field center. Distant spectator seats rerouted for tourists swarmed with gawkers.
"Kinda wild-looking."
The Abyss wound dominating a would-be baseball diamond? Easy to see the draw.
A Hunter Association sign stood by the dungeon, pristine unlike those at minor sites. Iron fencing ringed the scarred turf. They managed S-ranks tight.
"Guihyang Guild members, two of you? Correct?"
"Yes."
After queuing, an Association staffer asked.
"Confirmed. Entrance fee... Huh?"
He rubbed his eyes.
"Uh... Top-tier Association membership? No fee then."
"Ah."
Right—partnering with Gu-guk Guild got perks. Lee Shin-yul must've locked it in before passing out.
"Ahem, thanks."
"Safe delves."
He added a polite send-off, probably schmoozing the top-tier status.
"Whew."
Before the Abyss scar, we deep-breathed, then leaped in unison.
Fwaaah!
A white light burst from the cliff edge. Reaching it, the world blazed bright.
"Ngh."
Blinking past the glare revealed the Soul-Eating Labyrinth: fog so thick, nothing past ten meters.
No safe points in this special dungeon, rumor had it.
Woooong...
An eerie echo hummed from nowhere, chilling the ears. Probably soul eater cries.
"Just like the reports."
"Ugh..."
Yelena grimaced uncomfortably. She'd skipped dungeons since crashing at my place—not used to it anymore.
"You good?"
"Whew, better now. Royal Guardians for the win."
She smiled, stroking her armor. Entry disorientation wasn't fear-related, but placebo worked wonders. I shut up.
"So, Soo-hyeok. Plan?"
"Push forward. Stick close."
"Got it."
I led, Yelena behind. Leash temptation crossed my mind—nah, too weird.
Woooong...!
The hum swelled suddenly.
"Incoming."
A ragged-caped figure floated from the fog—formless spirit mass, grotesque maw splitting wide as it lunged.
"This guy's..."
Like Jellun liches, but rag-clad, not armored.
"Hmph."
I shoved my hand in its mouth, grabbing something blunt.
...Pop!
Twist-crush, and it smoked away.
"Easy."
"No biggie, Soo-hyeok."
I opened my fist: a mana stone. Sub-mana core grade, monster byproduct. Small size meant weak specimen.
"C-rank, I'd say."
Internet recon checked out. Soul eaters ranged C to S—special dungeon special. High risk (S-rank possible), high reward (C-rank luck-outs). Mental attackers, so even S-rank encounters didn't kill—just drove you mad.
Like those hunters outside.
No wonder the name. Lured jackpot hunters with no physical wounds, addictive mana cores (B+ and up), artifact fodder at premium prices. Once hooked, they returned like zombies, souls ensnared—until an S-rank snapped them.
Not why I'm here.
S-rank spawns were rare—one in a hundred, good or bad luck. I had another goal: the signpost in this fog-choked, random, no-safe-point maze. Every landmark mattered.
"Wonder when it'll show."
Smashing occasional soul eaters, something emerged at fog's edge.
"Soo-hyeok! Something there!"
"See it."
A two-meter oblong rock, stele-like.
The signpost.
Top search hit. Central maze marker, bound to mean something. Plus those dense carvings on one face. Here to check 'em.
A faint smile crept up as we neared.
"Soo-hyeok? What?"
"This inscription. Not just patterns."
"...For real?"
"Yeah."
Rare even in Jellun: ancient Elvish, known only to a select elf few.