Chapter 3

After resting for several minutes, Raven finally made his way back to his room. As he walked through the halls, he couldn't help but notice the nurses rushing about, tending to their patients. The doctors moved swiftly, their hurried footsteps echoing through the corridor as they tried to reach their next appointment. The exhaustion on their faces was undeniable—just a day had passed since the dungeon break, and the weight of their responsibilities was still pressing down on them.

Once inside his room, Raven leaned against the bed, lost in thought. His mind raced with a single question—how could he become stronger, and fast? There was no question that leveling up was the quickest route to power, but to do that, he needed to fight monsters. That meant entering a dungeon, yet before he could take that step, he had to become a Hunter. The Hunter's Association controlled access to dungeon gates, and there was no way they'd allow a civilian like him inside.

Raven understood his own limitations. Even among ordinary humans, he knew he was far from invincible. He needed more time—more attribute points—to improve his stats. And at the same time, he had to find a way to get his hands on an instant dungeon key.

His thoughts drifted to Jinwoo. In the manhwa, Jinwoo had obtained an instant dungeon key early on, thanks to the random loot boxes he received when completing daily quests.

Unfortunately, Raven's daily quests didn't offer such rewards. He couldn't help but curse the irony—his system bore so many similarities to Jinwoo's, yet the differences were glaringly unfair.

"Wait… if I remember right, Jinwoo got a bonus reward for doing double the required exercises, didn't he?"

Raven's eyes sparkled with sudden realization. Without wasting a second, he dropped to the floor and began another set of push-ups. As he moved, sharp pain radiated through his arms, a clear reminder of the strain his body had endured. Gritting his teeth, he pressed on, determined. Finally, he glanced at his quest panel, hoping to see some kind of change.

Nothing.

The number hadn't increased.

"Is it because I already claimed the rewards?" Raven muttered, feeling a pit of unease settle in his stomach. He had been hoping this hidden quest feature worked for him just as it had for Jinwoo. If not… then his efforts were for nothing.

With a defeated sigh, Raven collapsed onto the bed. He was still in the hospital, and boredom gnawed at him. There was nothing to do—not yet.

The next morning brought an unexpected struggle. The soreness from yesterday's workout hit him in full force.

His muscles felt like they were burning.

Sweat trickled down his forehead as he forced his body to move. His limbs felt unnaturally heavy, and his biceps trembled as if they would give out at any moment.

Never, in his wildest imagination, had he thought that training would be this grueling. And this was just the beginning—if he wanted enough attribute points to be ranked as at least a C-rank Hunter, he'd have to endure this every single day.

'Damn it… if this continues, this training is no different from torture!'

Raven clenched his jaw, forcing himself to push up despite the unbearable pain. His arms shook violently with exhaustion, screaming for him to stop.

For the first time, frustration filled him. His system—his unfair, broken system—was nothing like Jinwoo's.

Jinwoo had received valuable rewards, ones that made his training infinitely easier.

'Status Recovery… If only I had that,' Raven thought bitterly. His grip tightened, and his teeth dug into his lower lip as he fought against his weakening body.

To make matters worse, the system refused to register poorly executed exercises.

If his push-ups lacked proper form, they wouldn't count. That meant even as he endured the agony, he had to remain precise with his movements—otherwise, all his effort would be wasted.

This was the first time Raven truly faced a challenge so relentless. The cruelty of it all—the fact that even something as simple as exercising felt like torture—was almost laughable. Only now, through sheer experience, did he realize that the road to strength was never easy. It was lined with obstacles, suffering, and relentless hardship.

'At this rate, forget doubling the task requirements—it's questionable if I can even complete today's goal.'

"Damned hidden quest!" Raven growled. His arms trembled violently, each movement sending another wave of pain through his body.

Had an ordinary person faced this kind of suffering, they might have already given up.

But Raven wasn't an ordinary person.

It wasn't because he was particularly gifted or strong-willed—he simply had no other choice.

The biggest reason he pushed forward, despite the pain, was the guaranteed rewards.

For most people, enduring excruciating training without immediate results was unthinkable. Strength increased gradually, painfully slow, while the discomfort was instant.

Ordinary individuals had to be mindful of their limits to avoid overworking and injuring their muscles—lest they cause more harm than good.

But Raven wasn't concerned about that.

He knew that the moment he received his promised rewards and upgraded his stats, his durability—and recovery—would significantly improve.

Injuries that would be dangerous to an average person would soon become meaningless to him. And even if he strained his muscles too much early on, he had another safety net—the rejuvenation potion.

It was his saving grace.

If he had received one before, then it wasn't impossible to obtain another.

Raven wasn't clueless—he understood the mechanics of games. His system had a Store feature, and as expected, it provided purchasable items. Healing potions were a given.

With that realization, Raven clenched his fists.

No matter the hardship—no matter how much his body screamed at him to stop—he wasn't going to give up.

So, with sheer determination burning in his chest, Raven spent the entire day finishing his daily tasks.

...

As the days passed, Raven focused on alternating between daily quests and resting. The first three days after his transmigration were brutal—his muscles were constantly breaking and healing, pushing him to his limits. Even his mental state began to fray under the strain.

His routine, unnatural in a hospital setting, inevitably caught the attention of the staff. It wasn't long before nurses and doctors started intervening, urging him to slow down. They approached him repeatedly, cautioning that excessive strain could worsen his condition. Some tried reasoning with him, reminding him that he was still under observation, while others outright insisted that rest was necessary for proper healing.

But Raven remained unmoved.

Their concerns, though well-intended, were misplaced. His body was adapting in a way that conventional medical knowledge couldn't account for. No matter how much they tried, no words could dissuade him from pushing forward.

At first, the overwhelming number of incoming patients kept the hospital staff too busy to argue with him for long. But as emergency cases dwindled and the pace within the hospital slowed, their focus on him steadily increased.

Rather than risk further interference, he requested to be discharged.

On the fourth day, Raven made his request. Despite his strange behavior, his only abnormality was his relentless training. Otherwise, he was deemed stable. The hospital had no valid reason to keep him, though he still had to settle his medical bills.

Thankfully, the Mana Crystals he earned from his daily quests would help ease his financial burden.

Since Raven had no immediate family to assist him, he requested a temporary release to secure the funds needed for payment. The hospital approved his request.

His family had died long ago in a dungeon break—one of many tragedies buried beneath years of struggles. The Philippines lacked top-tier hunters, and many awakened individuals with strong abilities had left the country at the first opportunity, seeking better prospects abroad. Only a handful remained, refusing lucrative offers in favor of staying. Their reasons varied—some had deep loyalty to their "own country", while others preferred to reign as a "big fish in a small pond" rather than start over elsewhere.

Regardless of their motivations, these hunters were humanity's last line of defense. While their service was driven by profit, their presence was still a blessing for ordinary civilians.

Yet, the core issue remained: the country lacked enough hunters to safely close all the gates appearing across its lands.

One of the most practical solutions proposed by the Philippines Hunter Association and the government was to request aid from allied nations. This stabilized the country, but at the cost of opening its resources to foreign entities.

Mana Crystals and Monster Essence were highly sought-after, considered among the most valuable energy sources in the world. Every hunter fought fiercely for dungeon rights, so having the Philippines open its doors to foreign hunters was a painful necessity.

Adding to this frustration was the sheer rarity of these materials. The higher the gate's rank, the greater the treasures hidden within. High-rank dungeons were gold mines, overflowing with coveted resources.

If the country could monopolize those treasures, how prosperous would it be?

But reality was cruel. The Philippines lacked the strength to safeguard its own citizens, let alone hoard resources. With no other choice, they had to share access to these treasures. Their only control was in regulating the number of foreign hunters active within their territory.

Of course, this struggle wasn't unique to the Philippines. Many countries lacked National Rank hunters—individuals so powerful that their mere presence guaranteed civilian safety. These hunters were extraordinarily rare, so much so that most people would never encounter one in their lifetime. Because of their overwhelming might, the fortunate few countries that possessed such warriors enjoyed a level of security others could only dream of.

But for the majority of nations, the situation was different. Some were slightly better off than the Philippines, while others were even worse. This was why governments constantly sought talent from abroad. No one could predict when a gate far beyond their capabilities would suddenly emerge in their own backyard.