Chapter 2 - Dead-Weight

The Mission Briefing – An Afterthought Among Hunters

The Seoul Hunter's Association Outpost was alive with movement, a chaotic ecosystem of power, ambition, and hierarchy.

B-Rank and C-Rank hunters gathered in clusters, their voices overlapping—some discussing contracts, others negotiating pay for upcoming raids. The smell of metal and sweat mixed with the sterile scent of reinforced walls, the air charged with an anticipation only those who thrived in combat could understand.

Hyeon stood at the periphery, watching.

This was a place for the chosen, for the strong. It didn't matter that he was also a Bearer—his presence here was incidental, not integral. He was an accessory, not a necessity.

A team of hunters passed by, laughter echoing in their wake.

"You hear about that S-Rank clearing a Tower floor solo?" one of them boasted. "Ten minutes. Not a scratch."

"Freak of nature," another whistled. "If I had even a quarter of that power, I'd retire in a year."

"Some people are just born lucky," the first one sighed, shaking his head. "Meanwhile, we're stuck grinding dungeons."

Their conversation faded as they moved past.

Luck. Power. Fortune.

Hyeon had none of these things.

At the far end of the outpost, Joo Min-seok's raid party was already assembled, their armor gleaming under the artificial lighting. Their weapons—blades, staffs, enchanted bows—were meticulously maintained, polished to reflect the status of their wielders.

Min-seok, the team's leader, barely spared Hyeon a glance before tossing a notepad at him.

"Log everything. No questions."

The impact against his chest was soft, but the dismissal behind it was heavier than steel.

Hyeon caught the book without protest, his fingers curling around the edges.

"Scholar's here," one of the younger hunters muttered, nudging his friend.

Another snickered, voice dripping with mock concern. "Should we bring a stretcher? Wouldn't want our precious scribe getting a paper cut."

Laughter rippled through the group.

Hyeon didn't react.

He had heard it all before.

Min-seok adjusted his gauntlets, his tone flat. "Move out in five. Stay out of the way, Scholar. You get caught in the crossfire, it's on you."

Hyeon nodded.

And just like that, he followed them into the dungeon—not as a hunter, but as a shadow.

Entering the Dungeon – He is Invisible

Stepping through the Dungeon Gate was like crossing into another world.

The transition was instant. One step forward, and the air changed.

The temperature dropped. A sharp, biting cold seeped into his bones, unnatural for a cavern of this depth. The walls groaned, shifting as if alive, pulsating with some unseen presence.

The dungeon was old.

Far older than it should be.

Faint torches burned along the path, their dim glow casting long shadows. The air smelled damp, tinged with the iron scent of dried blood.

Hyeon felt it immediately—the wrongness in the atmosphere.

The System had labeled this dungeon as C-Rank.

But it felt like something had been misjudged.

"Spread out," Min-seok ordered, leading the group forward.

The others moved without hesitation, boots crunching against loose gravel. Their eyes swept the surroundings, hands hovering near their weapons.

Hyeon, however, knelt near the cavern wall, running his fingers over the etched symbols lining the stone.

These weren't System-registered runes.

They were older.

More deliberate.

His notebook flipped open before he even realized, his fingers sketching the patterns instinctively.

He had seen these before.

Not in textbooks. Not in modern dungeons.

But somewhere else—somewhere in his own fragmented research.

A heavy boot slammed into his book, the impact forcing his hand back.

Hyeon blinked, looking up.

A hunter had walked straight through his work, not even bothering to glance down.

"Keep up, Scholar," the man muttered, stepping ahead.

Hyeon stared at the fresh bootprint smearing the ink across his page.

The irritation flared for only a second before he swallowed it down.

It didn't matter.

No one cared about what he saw.

The First Battle – A Spectator, Not a Hunter

The dungeon came alive with motion.

A guttural snarl echoed through the cavern, followed by the rapid patter of inhuman feet.

Goblins.

They burst from the shadows, hunched figures wielding crude weapons, their glowing red eyes filled with murderous instinct.

The hunters reacted instantly.

Blades sang through the air. Fire erupted from a mage's fingertips, igniting the narrow passageway. A spear impaled a goblin mid-leap, its body writhing before collapsing into a heap.

The battle lasted seconds.

Green blood splattered the ground, pooling at their feet.

Hyeon stayed back.

Out of the way.

Making himself small.

A hunter deliberately slammed into his shoulder while passing by.

"Watch it, Scholar," the man sneered. "Wouldn't want you getting guts on your pages."

Laughter erupted from the others.

Min-seok wiped his blade on a fallen goblin's ragged tunic before glancing at Hyeon.

"No contribution, no rewards." He sheathed his sword. "Be grateful you even get paid."

Hyeon said nothing.

He just wrote it down.

Rune Discovery – The Whisper

The battle was over.

The team moved ahead, leaving bodies behind.

Hyeon lingered, his eyes drawn to something beneath a fallen goblin.

A faint glow.

A rune.

Different from the others. Older.

Not a System-generated mark.

It pulsed with something deeper, something that felt like a whisper in his mind.

His fingers traced the pattern, and the translation burned into his thoughts before he even processed it.

"The Forsaken Will Rise."

A chill ran down his spine.

This was the third time he had seen this message in different dungeons.

And yet—every time he tried to report it…

Hyeon hesitated before speaking.

"This symbol—it's appeared before."

The response was immediate.

The hunters burst into laughter.

"Unless it says 'loot here,' shut up," one of them snorted.

"Why are you even looking at that garbage?" another muttered. "It's just dungeon filler. Like background noise."

Hyeon clenched his jaw.

But he wrote it down anyway.

Returning Home – A World That Still Sees Him

By the time they exited the dungeon, the sky had already darkened.

The last rays of Seoul flickered in the distance, its skyline stark against the night.

The jeering hunters, the indifference, the feeling of being nothing—it all melted away the moment he stepped through the door of his home.

His mother greeted him without expectations.

No questions about how much he had earned. No demands about why he wasn't stronger.

Just acceptance.

Jisoo leaned forward from the couch, grinning. "Did you fight anything?"

Hyeon shook his head.

He didn't tell her about the rune.

About how no one listens.

About how the whispers linger.

"The Forsaken Will Rise."