The World Moves On

Seoul, South Korea – Three Months Later

The city pulsed with life. Neon signs flickered atop towering buildings, and the distant hum of car engines mixed with the chatter of pedestrians flooding the streets.

It was as if nothing had changed.

As if no one remembered.

In a dimly lit office within the Korean Hunter Association, Go Gunhee, the Chairman, sat in silence, his aged fingers resting against his temple. A single file lay open on his desk.

A missing Hunter report.

Jin-Ho Kang.

B-rank, 22 years old, last seen entering an A-rank dungeon. Entire team presumed dead. No bodies recovered. Dungeon closed unnaturally.

Gunhee exhaled, his gaze heavy.

Another one.

Another Hunter lost to the abyss.

And yet, there was something different about this case. Something that didn't sit right.

The dungeon had collapsed on itself—an anomaly even by high-rank standards. No signs of a breakout, no surviving witnesses, and worst of all… no traces of mana signatures. It was as if the dungeon had simply ceased to exist.

A knock on the door broke his thoughts.

"Enter."

A young woman stepped inside, her expression tense. Seo Ah-Young, one of the Association's top analysts.

"Chairman… we have a problem."

Gunhee raised an eyebrow.

She placed a tablet on his desk, sliding it toward him. He glanced down, his eyes narrowing.

A satellite image.

A new dungeon.

But not just any dungeon.

It wasn't marked as red, black, or even an unknown category.

It was something entirely different.

A swirling hole of darkness in the middle of Seoul, its form warping as if reality itself struggled to contain it.

Gunhee felt something he hadn't in decades.

Dread.

"…What the hell is that?"

Seo Ah-Young swallowed hard.

"We don't know. But sir… it's growing."

Gunhee's grip tightened.

He had seen S-rank Gates. He had witnessed Monster Breaks.

But this?

This wasn't a dungeon.

This was something worse.

And for the first time in years…

He feared they weren't ready.