Total Annihilation
"Princess, before we head straight to Jeju Island, can I make a quick stop at my original dungeon to take care of some business?"
"Business?"
"Yeah. Need to tie up some loose ends and grab a few things. Won't take long."
Serria furrowed her brow slightly. She probably wanted to drag me off right then and there, but she couldn't exactly force me when the seller had personal matters to attend to.
". . . Fine, whatever."
She let out a small sigh, as if she had no choice. "Contact me as soon as you're ready, then. I'll send you the location of my hideout via Matok."
"Ah, let's exchange contacts first."
I pulled the MaPhone out of my pocket—the one Mandy had gifted me. Serria took a slim purple device from her handbag.
"Punch in your number."
"One sec."
Ding.
A short notification chime rang out, and 'Noble Rose' appeared in my friends list. Her fingers danced across the screen right away.
The interface was a dead ringer for the messenger apps back on Earth. Yellow background, speech bubble shapes—even the status message next to the profile pic.
'Thought the demon world would be all different, but it's just like anywhere people live.'
The familiar UI meant no learning curve.
"Got it. I'll message you the second I'm ready."
"Come as fast as you can. My patience isn't infinite, you know."
"Noted, ma'am."
Serria stood, straightening her clothes.
"See you later, then."
Click, clack.
She strode out of the bar without a backward glance. I watched her go, then drained the rest of my beer.
"Alright, time to get moving."
Montelli Central Square. In the middle of the massive plaza stood a huge magic circle glowing blue. It was the 'Teleport Send-Off Circle' for those entering from outside to return to their origins.
I pushed through the crowd and stepped inside.
Vmmm—
Intense light surged from underfoot, turning my vision pure white. A floating sensation swept over me, the world flipping upside down.
Pop!
The light faded, revealing a familiar sight: damp humidity, moldy stench assaulting my nose, dim cave ceiling shrouded in darkness.
The Goblin Dungeon—my first client.
But no goblin welcome party awaited.
". . ."
The stench of blood. A suffocating metallic tang filled the cave. Red pools stained the floor, piled high with goblin corpses torn to shreds.
Not a single survivor.
"What the hell . . ."
Ghost story Cleared.
". . .Cleared?"
Hunters' doing, probably.
It had finally come. Hunters stormed in, and the goblins couldn't hold.
But this thorough a massacre? Brutal.
"Boss, can you show me how it went down?"
If you want.
Fwoosh.
A video projected before my eyes.
Dungeon entrance. About twenty hunters marched in formation.
Guard goblins lost their heads without a scream. Overwhelming force.
The leader—I knew why the dungeon fell the second I saw him.
". . . A-rank hunter Kim Mu-sik."
Cropped sporty hair, massive steel gauntlets on both hands. Kim Mu-sik, Hyeonhak Guild exec and A-rank powerhouse.
'Insane. They threw in that much firepower just to finish it clean?'
I watched grimly as the hunters delved deeper. The surroundings warped.
Shooo—
Damp cave walls vanished, replaced by a dark space. Dusty air, flickering old lights, thousands of decrepit mannequins crammed in.
The interior of the anomaly 'Clothing Warehouse'.
"What the—?"
"Dungeon layout changed! Stay sharp!"
Hunters murmured. Then—
Kreeeak.
Thousands of mannequins whipped their heads toward the hunters. Grotesque joint-snapping echoed through the warehouse.
"Stay cool, everyone. Just trash mobs. Smash whatever you see."
"Got it!"
A frontliner charged boldly. As he swung his sword—dust in his eyes? He squeezed them shut.
Pop!
"Gah?!"
In an instant, a mannequin ten meters away was in his face.
Crack!
"Aaaagh!"
His arm twisted at a sick angle. As the mannequin's rigid hand clamped his throat—
Boom!
A heavy thud pulverized its head. Kim Mu-sik's work.
"Can't keep your eyes open?"
He hurled the injured hunter back and stomped the shards.
But the fight was just starting.
Clack, clatter, clack!
Every time a hunter looked away or blinked, mannequins closed in at insane speeds.
Hunters smashed them with weapons. But—
"Damn! Too many! And they're fast!"
Smash one, done. But numbers overwhelmed. And off-screen approaches defied physics.
Chaos. But Kim Mu-sik stayed calm.
"Shut up! Stick behind me!"
Whoosh! Boom! Thwack!
Boxing steps, fists flying wild. Jabs, hooks, uppercuts. Each swing birthed shockwaves, grinding mannequins to dust.
Not just breaking—obliterating utterly. Raw power.
"Boss! Found the rule!"
A rear observer shouted.
"Eyes! They don't move if you make eye contact! We have to watch them while they watch us!"
"What? Staring freezes 'em?"
Kim Mu-sik locked eyes with one ahead. It froze like a lie.
"Hah, annoying."
Rule cracked, tide turned.
"Everyone, backs together! Secure all sightlines!"
"No blinking! Take turns!"
Veterans. Fear faded; they moved like machines.
Backs to backs, scanning, pulverizing approaching threats, advancing.
"Clear a path! I'll punch through!"
Kim Mu-sik roared from the front. Eyes bulging, glaring ahead, fists crushing everything in view. Rules? Brute force bulldozer.
"There! Exit!"
Rusted iron door at the end. Hunters backed toward it, eyes fixed, and pulled it open.
Screeech—
Light poured in. Last hunter out—the warehouse darkness shattered like glass.
Crash!
Ghost story space collapsed, cave returned. Video ended.
I smacked my lips bitterly.
'Ghost stories aren't invincible.'
Even superior to hunter ranks, they have weaknesses. Spot the rule, it's over.
And against Kim Mu-sik's physique, numbers meant nothing.
'Hunters pack real punch.'
I'd hoped a D-rank ghost story would trouble an A-rank. Wrong.
To that monster, it was just a minor hassle.
Collect higher-grade, stronger ghost stories.
That's your path to survival.
Easy to say collect—sounds like haunted house spelunking. Legs already shaking. Hate scary stuff.
Then, a bad premonition hit.
'Wait. What happens to a cleared ghost story?'
I hastily pulled up my list.
". . . Ah."
A groan escaped. One slot empty.
'My precious inventory . . .'
Heart ached. Seed money gone—only Plastic Surgeon left. What now?
Then—
Rumble—
The inner wall shuddered faintly, sliding aside. A hidden door camouflaged as rock.
". . .?"
As I gawked, a figure emerged from the dark.
Hob Goblin. Thought dead.
"Knew you were the merchant!"
He lit up, yelling. I startled.
"H-how'd you survive? Thought you were goners."
"Hmph! Think I'd go down easy?"
Hob Goblin snorted, thumbing back at the hideout.
"Thanks to you last time, blocked hunters, scored points. Dumped it all on a 'Secret Hideout.' Cloaking magic's killer—hunters didn't sniff a thing! Kekekeke!"
". . ."
"But core's smashed. Place is toast. Collapsing soon."
Explanation left me speechless. Hid while minions got slaughtered outside?
"So what's the plan? Core collapse kills you too, right?"
Hob Goblin rubbed his hands greedily.
"Th-that's why . . . Merchant sir. Take me as your minion? Pleeease?"
Most pathetic begging face ever.
"As minion, bound to your mana—dungeon falls, I live! I got experience, know stuff! Useful to you, promise! Don't wanna die like a dog!"
I pondered. Minion, huh.
'Send this guy to the succubus dungeon for a job?'
Voice chimed in.
Any reason to help?
'Don't love my first client dying.'
Money-grubbing goblin, sure—but sealed my debut deal. Letting him croak felt off.
Soft.
Not bad call, though. Desperate Hob Goblin won't betray you.
True merchants need lackeys.
Decided. A Ma realm guide would help this ignorant me big time.
"Fine. You're in."
Instantly—
Vmmm!
Red magic circles flared under me and Hob Goblin.
"Huh?"
No time to react. Circles blazed. His body dissolved into light particles, sucked into my shadow.
Foreign knowledge flooded my mind: summoning, commanding, status-checking minions.
". . ."
I stared blankly at my shadow.
One word, contract sealed . . .
'Boss, this safe? No mind-eating or anything?'
Basic lord-vassal contract. No mental interference.
'Phew, good.'
Relief. But eerie—intent alone triggered magic.
Stop overthinking. Better get going.
Delayed enough.
Snapped to. 'Right, gotta go.'
Pulled black envelope from my pocket—Jagan's Montelli pass.
Extracted the pass, infused a pittance of mana.
Fwoosh!
Blazed white. Moments later, crowd noise buzzed my ears.
Montelli confirmed. Out came the MaPhone. Screen lit—Serria's profile front and center.
Reply instant.
I smirked, typing.
Checked the map and building pic pinned above the chat. Started walking.