Chapter 1

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 1

Chapter Title: I Became a Dungeon Master

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Dungeon.

A staple in games.

Inside dungeons lie vast treasures and monsters.

The protagonist explores them, slays the monsters, claims rewards, and grows stronger.

These elements are so intuitive and fun that they've been loved by many for ages.

It's like a hearty bowl of blood sausage soup—filling and satisfying.

Among the games I played, there were a few in that genre.

Like the darkest dungeon where your party members go mad every day, turning it into self-inflicted torture... or the one where traps rip the heroine's clothes off... maybe not that one.

Beyond those, countless works feature dungeons, so most gamers like me are familiar with the concept, even if it's fictional.

Anyway.

Every time I see a dungeon, one thought crosses my mind.

That the bosses who made them are pathetic as hell.

Pity for the dungeon operators getting beaten like punching bags.

They really get pummeled.

They craft traps with care.

Decorate the interiors to fit the theme.

Treat their monsters like kids and raise them diligently.

Watching players thoroughly ravage everything brings tears to my eyes.

Of course, games are made for users to clear, so it's par for the course.

But this world is full of obsessives.

Some call them hardcore vets or rotten bastards.

Game devs probably just hope players follow their intended path honestly.

But humans are creative creatures—if they set a goal like beating the boss with a wooden sword, they'll make it happen.

YouTube is flooded with titles like that—same species, but damn impressive freaks.

Even final bosses that threaten all humanity become mere toys before them.

I stared at the hologram floating before my eyes.

Best booze is enemy blood after blocking a wave [15]

The traps I worked hard on... all smashed in one day, fml [55]

Sharing major strongholds of each race!!!!! [32]

Internet communities.

Places rife with dopamine, chaos, and disgust.

People call that dumpster fire a "comm" or whatever.

In an unnamed cave.

I couldn't help but gape at the scene mimicking one perfectly.

And that wasn't all.

"What the hell is this?"

The illusory message overlaying the community screen.

Dream or reality?

No ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠answer came no matter how hard I pondered.

"......"

Fuck.

No hardcore vets here, right?

So.

To sum it up, I'm an ordinary guy.

Freelancer by trade, living a boring life that everyone agrees won't see any dramatic turns.

But when I came to, I was in a dark, creepy place out of nowhere.

What bullshit is that?

I don't know either.

Went to bed fine last night, woke up in a strange cave—not like I was kidnapped in a van or anything. My brain froze at the absurdity.

Dungeon Gallery.

And status windows.

"Fucking hell."

Swears spilling out automatically.

First time feeling this disoriented.

I swear.

I'm more freaked out than an elementary kid who pissed themselves on the bus.

Fuck.

What about my 10 million won deposit apartment?

Where's my second-hand sedan I bought cheap for 5 million?

Did I get punished?

Before bed yesterday, I was gaming and called a teammate a motherless bastard...

Was that a capital crime?

As I denied reality.

"Wave? Dungeon?"

If you're dragging someone to a weird place, at least explain nicely.

This whole situation is nonsensical to begin with.

"Prepare in advance, it says..."

How the hell am I supposed to prepare?

I pinched my cheek.

Pain means it's not a dream.

"This is pissing me off."

What kind of bullshit is this without warning?

Even in this cutthroat world, if there's urgent business, you give time to mentally prepare, right?

Kidnapping someone into a cave outta nowhere.

Defend the dungeon??

Prepare defenses??

Thanks a bunch.

Even that Kim chick about to rear-end me on the highway would've been politer.

"Fuck."

Head heats up fast, that's the problem.

But my one strength is quick emotional control.

Anyway.

Yelling at the hologram won't help.

Won't fix my situation.

"Haa."

Drip-drop—

Underground water from stalactites echoes with my sighs.

What's most important in navigating this world?

My creed:

Problem-solving ability.

I love this saying:

Even in a tiger's den, keep your wits and you'll survive.

Natural disaster hits, home and car gone—don't despair, remember you have fire and flood insurance, rush to local gov for payout.

No insurance? Film it with record on, upload "[Had a house, now gone]" to sites, hit 100k subs with sheer will—what can't you do?

Crisis is opportunity.

I dig that phrase.

Whining, crying, raging, lamenting changes nothing.

"First things first."

I stared at the Gallery for a while.

Real people communicating here?

Life lesson: when clueless, don't DIY—ask others.

"Can I post too?"

How to write a post.

Not some aggro title like '295yo Necro's Final Sincere All-Out Last Dance'—will they even read it?

Huh?

Sure.

Nickname, huh.

I have ones I use often on sites.

This time, just this.

Name doesn't matter anyway.

Great time my ass.

Not here for casual browsing.

Just seeking a way out of this mess.

I tried uploading a post.

After meticulously prepping a 5700-char body.

A new alert covered it.

"Why's a newbie alert popping in the Gallery?"

Tried closing it, accidentally deleted the post.

"Ah, fuck."

Damn, gotta start over.

Sighed and reaccessed Gallery.

I remember the content, so faster this time.

As I went to hit write.

Posts refreshed rapidly.

Unnaturally fast.

Sensing weirdness, checked posts.

What the.

Why's it going nuts?

Clicked the one with most replies.

Scanned the comments.

Internet communities.

Places rife with dopamine, chaos, and disgust.

People call that dumpster fire a "comm" or whatever.

The reaction to me was explosive.