The Vanished Labyrinth
Back when we cleared the Soul-Eating Labyrinth.
I'd slipped away as quickly as possible, so I managed to avoid getting caught up in it.
Later, the Hunter Association called, asking if I hadn't entered the dungeon at the time and what had happened. When I said I'd forgotten something at home and rushed back to the entrance, they seemed to buy it without much suspicion.
And why wouldn't they? Yelena and I had entered less than ten minutes before the clear was reported.
Given that it had gone uncleared for the past five years, it was far more believable to take my word for it than to think someone had conquered it in ten minutes flat.
"Whoa, it's finally gone."
Sujin muttered while watching the morning news.
Pretending I knew nothing, I asked her instead.
"Ahem, what's that about? Famous dungeon or something?"
"Yeah. You know how a dungeon popped up huge right where they built the dome stadium in Seoul? Stock prices tanked so hard people were jumping into the Han River left and right."
"Hmm."
"They were barely patching up the losses by turning it into a tourist spot, and now it's cleared. Haha."
"……."
Turned out the rumors weren't just hot air. The news even had an interview with someone from the dome stadium crew.
"Still, a cleared dungeon's a good thing, right? Isn't it?"
"Y-Yeah?"
I forced myself to think that way, rubbing my stinging chest.
Truth be told, up until yesterday, I hadn't thought there was much need to dodge out like that. Clearing dungeons was par for the course in a hunter's line of work.
But seeing the guy on the news choking up made me glad I'd kept it under wraps.
That's just how people are.
"Speaking of, where'd Yelena go to catch a cold like that? She's A+-rank."
"...Beats me."
Aftermath from yesterday's dungeon run—Yelena spent the whole day laid up in bed.
It wasn't exactly sickness, more like that heavy, flu-like ache.
Feeling guilty for dragging her along, I'd told her to take it easy, no farm work for a while.
"Alright, time to work."
I glossed over yesterday's events, trying to bury them.
"Oh crap. I totally spaced—got paperwork due today."
Luckily, Sujin had her own stuff to handle and headed out right after breakfast.
Left at home: just Yelena and me.
"Hey. Feeling better?"
"Fine."
To check if she was just saying that, I peeked through the door. She was bundled up tight, watching anime.
Looked like she really was okay.
"Boil some ramen?"
"Ooh, ramen. Nice."
I'd figured she'd want porridge, but ramen was cheaper.
I even added a side of mayo on the tray, and her face lit up.
"Thanks, Soo-hyeok."
"Psh, no biggie."
Then Yelena tilted her head.
"Soo-hyeok. Why're you being so nice?"
"Eh? Family does that sometimes. Haha."
Truth was, I felt bad for dragging her into it and leaving her like this.
"Family..."
Clueless to my guilt, Yelena pouted like the word touched her.
"Thanks, Soo-hyeok. I'll be good to you from now on too."
"Y-Yeah."
She took the tray with the cup ramen and mayo, then shut the door.
"Phew."
That seemed to wrap it up nicely.
I finished my morning chores and lounged in the hammock, lost in thought.
We become them.
The Abyss-type dungeon with an ecosystem like Jellun.
A stele there was inscribed in ancient Elvish: that phrase.
And that wasn't all.
I am the chosen one.
Even the dungeon master had smugly declared it in ancient Elvish.
What the hell did that mean?
Chosen by who, that it warranted grinning like that?
Back home, I'd mulled over a ton of stuff.
Mostly trying to recall things from Jellun.
Then I remembered an illustration from an Elven tome.
The grand library in the Great Forest.
Surrounded by ancient tomes worthy of an Elven archive, searching for a way back to Earth.
Funny thing: even there, no books in ancient Elvish.
What's this?
One tome had what looked like a kid's doodle.
Tales of the ancient Elves, huh.
Ancient Elves? What's that?
Long story short: Elves from ancient times. You monkey.
This jerk...
Then I recalled brawling with Argel again.
"Heh."
Why'd we fight every other day?
She pissed me off back then, but looking back now... not all bad memories.
Anyway, the ancient Elf in that illustration looked just like yesterday's dungeon master.
Yeah. Tree roots and leaves covering the important bits, like a primitive Elf.
One big difference, though.
No horns in the illustration.
What was that about?
If it was an ancient Elf, why was something like that playing dungeon master on Earth?
"Ugh..."
Coming back to Korea, the last thing I wanted was racking my brain like this.
But ignoring it all feels off too.
"Lee Shin-yul..."
If that guy woke up, he'd probably clear up a lot of these questions.
"Hmm."
On a whim, I called him.
"......"
"...I can't take your call right now. Connecting to voicemail. Beep... "
"Tch."
Figured as much—he didn't pick up.
Was he still out, or dodging me on purpose?
"Fine. Few more days. I'll wait till next week like planned."
Steeled myself and headed out.
A small city in Gangwon-do.
Once famous for grapes thanks to ample sunlight and big diurnal range.
Decent population, but the scenery felt oddly out of place for a 21st-century town.
"Hurry up and move it!"
"Ugh..."
A scrawny young guy hauling cement bags couldn't take the weight and toppled over.
Poof.
Cement dust billowed everywhere.
The kid was covered head to toe, but no one around lifted a finger to help.
"Ow!"
The guy glaring at him—his superior, Kim the clerk—chewed him out.
"Kim, what's with this guy? How's he supposed to handle field relief properly like this?"
"Haha... Sorry. He's subbing in 'cause his back hurts."
"Sniff..."
The fallen kid teared up, indignant.
If he were a civil servant, maybe less unfair—but dragged here on a grade 4 for a herniated disc, manual labor was alien to him.
He wanted to quit, but...
That'd spell big trouble.
Legal issues aside, this guy in front of him would beat him senseless.
The man brandishing a whip was a hunter from the Ministry of Land.
Assigned to manage the Jeongseon field.
With his back killing him, just walking hurt—daring to talk back to a Ministry hunter? Dream on.
"Tsk tsk. Kids these days flop at the slightest hardship."
"......"
The kid could only squeeze out tears under the hunter's scolding.
He didn't even get why a town office clerk like him was lugging cement.
"Quit gawking! No slacking just 'cause you think we're distracted! Move!"
Today's social service crew wasn't just the kid—others yanked from postings nationwide, dispatched to Hantong-myeon field relief.
Fuck this.
No one said it aloud—too risky if an awakener overheard.
"Heh."
Work normalized; the Ministry hunter smirked, satisfied.
Gate in Hantong-myeon last month.
Monsters emerging, mid-fieldization.
A proper hunter would've culled them early.
But he had other plans.
Let it fester into a dungeon...!
Then hook it to a guild buddy for a commission.
Fresh dungeons fetched good money.
Keep doing pointless monster camp work till then—no reassignments, pure honey.
Win-win.
Social service suckers suffered, but who audited rural Hantong-myeon?
No crazy bastard'll clean it up either.
He grinned at the windfall.
"Uh... this Hantong-myeon?"
"Huh?"
Mid-daydream of tile-roof riches, a man strolled up.
"Wh-who're you?"
Worried it was an audit, but he barked first.
"Doesn't matter. There's a field here, right? Came to check it."
The hunter sized him up and scoffed.
"Ha! Hunter, huh? Ministry turf—scram."
"Looks like the right spot."
The man nodded at his phone, strode to the camp center.
"H-hey! What the—obstructing official duties!"
"Shut it."
"What?"
No time to rage.
The man flashed a certificate.
Supreme Grade Hunter Association Member.
Supreme Grade Hunter Association Member Certificate
"Th-this...?"
B-rank himself, but he'd only heard rumors.
Issued only to S-rank guilds in Korea.
With it, no dungeon or field off-limits.
"Grr..."
"Who is he?"
Kim the clerk finally noticed the tussle, but the hunter was speechless.
Just prayed it was fake—and the guy died in an "accident" purifying the field.
Kraaaooo...!
No such luck for rotten prayers.
Screams from the distant field.
Soon, the man emerged, drenched in blood, casual as ever.
"Hantong-myeon done... Next, Chaun-ri? Here?"
He soloed the B-rank field like nothing, then moved on.
Later, word spread work halted—social service crew cheered quietly.