Chapter 1: An F-Class Porter's First Dungeon
“Porter! Don't fall behind!”
The voice of the D-class hunter walking ahead echoed off the damp cave walls.
I flinched and hunched my shoulders.
“S-sorry! I'll hurry!”
I hastily adjusted the strap of my backpack. The weight bore down on my shoulders again, digging into my bones.
Spare weapons, potion crates, magic stone recovery cases, emergency rations. All told, it had to be over eighty pounds.
My breath came up to my throat, but I couldn't stop.
Falling behind here meant losing my daily pay.
And right now, I couldn't afford to lose even a single day's wage.
My name is Kang Minsu. Twenty-five years old.
Registered F-class hunter with the Hunter Management Bureau.
Hunter in name only—I was barely tougher than a regular person. I'd awakened, sure, but my magic circuits were clogged like a backed-up sewer, barely trickling mana. No combat skills worth mentioning.
So my role was set in stone.
Porter. Luggage carrier.
When combat started, I hung back, handed over whatever they asked for, picked up magic stones after it ended, and if luck was bad, got left behind.
“Tch. Look at that stamina. Real F-class material.”
The hunter ahead with the sword clicked his tongue.
“This is why we hate taking newbie porters.”
It was said with a laugh, but I couldn't join in.
I forced the corners of my mouth up.
“Sorry.”
It wasn't really something to apologize for. Being weak didn't change with words.
But in situations like this, “sorry” was the easiest. Shorter than excuses, safer than arguing.
This was an E-class dungeon on the outskirts of the capital: Wet Cave.
According to the bureau briefing: average difficulty below normal, stable early clears, no fatalities.
That last part stuck with me most.
No fatalities.
People find reassurance in the strangest places when they're desperate.
Just a week ago, I was juggling three night shifts at convenience stores. Laughable against eleven months of piling hospital bills for Mom.
Overdue notices on the fridge door. Hazard pay separate, daily wage 200,000 won.
Those two lines had shoved me here. I'd barely skimmed the waiver: injuries or death in dungeon at own risk. Reading it fully might've stopped me cold.
“Don't zone out. Keep up.”
The leader said it without looking back.
“Yes, sir.”
I carefully stepped on the slick stone floor, following the party.
The dungeon was darker than I'd imagined.
Not just absence of light. The flashlight beam seemed crushed midway, like the air itself sagged with damp heaviness.
Gray moss clung to the walls, unidentified water dripped from the ceiling.
The smell hit too.
Wet earth, mold, stale water, some hard-to-describe fishy reek.
Every breath made my lungs feel sodden deep inside.
Party makeup wasn't bad.
Leader was a D-class swordsman, two dealers, one healer.
Plenty for an E-class dungeon.
Normally, I'd just stick to their backs and follow quietly to the end.
The first fight lasted under ten seconds.
Leader swung his sword, magic exploded behind. Bat-like low-level monsters scattered with shriek-like cries.
Too fast for fear to catch up.
Manageable?
The thought flickered briefly.
Very briefly.
Then instant regret.
Dungeons pulled stunts exactly like this.
As the party passed the second fork and entered a narrow passage.
Unnaturally quiet.
Nothing since the bats.
No slimes, no rat monsters, not even the usual entry-level trash mobs.
I kept glancing back.
My back prickled for no reason.
I didn't know why.
But the silence was eerie.
“Um...”
I ventured cautiously.
The leader half-turned with an irritated glare.
“What.”
“It's been too quiet since earlier... Doesn't it feel off?”
A beat of silence.
One dealer snickered.
“What do you know?”
“N-no, just a feeling...”
“A feeling?”
Leader snorted.
“Clear a dungeon on F-class hunches? Scared? Shut up and carry the gear.”
The healer chuckled softly from behind.
“He's a newbie. Can be scary.”
Sounded supportive, but it wasn't.
I shut my mouth.
He was right anyway.
What did an F-class like me know?
Couldn't fight, barely sensed mana, most useless here.
So I just bowed my head and walked.
Three steps later.
Thud.
A short, heavy sound.
Before I processed it, a scream erupted.
“Agh!”
I looked up. The rear dealer was slammed to the ground.
A gray mass clung atop him.
Armored lizard.
Over six feet long, at least.
Skin blended perfectly with the passage walls. Forked tongue tasted the air.
Dropped from the ceiling.
“It's from behind!”
“Maintain formation!”
Leader shouted, but too late.
Not just one.
Scraaaape.
Clawing from the walls somewhere.
Then yellow eyes in the dark: two, four, six.
From the front.
From behind.
“Damn, ambush!”
“Healer back!”
“Porter, fall back!”
Before the words finished, the passage turned to chaos, like a collapse.
Dealer dragged his fallen comrade. Leader parried a charger head-on. Healer flung shaky heals.
Screams, metal clashes, monster howls exploded together.
I froze dead center.
Brain couldn't catch up on what to do.
Help fight?
Impossible.
Drop gear and hide?
Where?
No idea where we even were.
“What are you doing? Run!”
Someone yelled it.
Leader? Dealer? My own head? No clue.
But my body moved first.
I spun.
Ran blindly.
Flashlight beam jerked wildly.
Slick stone slid underfoot. Behind: screams, metal, howls blended into thunder.
Stop and die.
That filled my head.
Around me, silence.
Too silent.
No party.
No leader, healer, insulting dealers.
Only my flashlight shaking at the wet passage end.
Trembling hands fumbled my pocket.
Phone.
Screen on.
No signal.
Expected, but seeing it sank my heart.
Wanted to call Mom.
Just say I'm alive.
Or honestly, hear any human voice.
Nothing.
I bit my lip.
Taste of blood.
Had to survive.
Find the exit somehow.
Standing here meant starve, lost-mad, or monster chow. Pick one.
Flashlight forward.
Beam showed empty passage.
One step.
Another.
Stone grated softly under shoe.
Even that sounded too loud.
I held my breath instinctively.
Then.
Thump.
Heavy, slow footsteps from passage end.
One.
Two.
Rhythmic.
I froze solid.
Footsteps didn't stop.
Got closer.
Slowly raised beam there.
And saw it.
Armored lizard.
Same type from the passage.
Over six feet.
Gray skin.
Gleaming yellow eyes.
Forked tongue probed air.
Its gaze slid past flashlight to my face.
Eyes locked.
Body locked.
Knew I had to run.
Legs wouldn't move.
Brain screamed; body stone.
One second.
Two.
Monster leaned forward slow.
Pounce stance.
Ah, I'm dead.
Crystal clear thought.
That instant.
Ding.
Clear, sharp alert—unreal in its purity—rang in my ears.
[...Conditions met.]
Head went white.
Hallucination?
But mechanical voice followed clearly.
[Channel compatibility checking...]
[Suitable.]
What?
Blue flash before my eyes.
Bright enough through closed lids.
Armored lizard's jaws at my throat.
Frozen moment.
Cold voice rang sharp in my head.
[System activating.]
[Connected to Otherworld Streaming Platform.]
[Creating channel...]
I blinked blankly.
Above the armored lizard's head—right at my face—a translucent blue window floated.
[Please set broadcast title.]
[Default: Kang Minsu]
[Current viewers: 0]
Absurd screen. More unreal than death's door.
But those jaws? Brutally real distance.
No heroic dodge, no slick counter.
Before brain caught up, survival instinct slammed my body to the floor.
Splat!
Crushed by pack weight, I belly-slid under its gut.
Whole body mud-soaked, chin scraped stone till blood burst.
Pathetic, miserable. But alive.
Boom behind!
Lizard couldn't turn, smashed head into wall.
“Kieeeek!”
It writhed in pain and rage.
I spat mud, lifted head.
Blue window in air blinked new text.
And bottom.
Tiny text appeared.
[First viewer has entered.]