Chapter 64: Episode 64

The Republic of Korea had fallen into a complete panic. Martial law was declared, the highest level of combat readiness was issued, and the army began to move. They established a defensive line centered around Seoul and the Jeonnam province, preparing for the worst. Even those who had been holding out at home began preparing to flee, and traffic across the country reached a state of severe paralysis.

Jeonnam was now so packed with refugees there was no room to stand. A bizarre price surge occurred: a single Choco Pie cost fifty dollars, and a pack of ramen cost over two hundred. While the military established its defensive line, the players continued their desperate fight on the front lines.

With martial law declared, every player registered in the country was subject to conscription. This included solo players and those not part of an official combat team. In the Honam region, the situation escalated to the point where players were being hunted down, forced into parties, and sent to clear dungeons against their will. Police checked IDs on the roads while mana surveillance drones floated in the sky.

—We pay so much in taxes for you people, and now you hide when we need you! Get out there and fight!

—Did I ask to be awakened as a player? This is a gross violation of human rights!

Civility had vanished, leaving only raw anger.

“…Is any of this for real?” Bora asked, her voice bewildered as she scrolled through the news on her phone.

I offered a bitter smile. “It is. It’s all happening as we speak.”

“…Being stuck in dungeons all this time, I feel like I’ve completely lost my grip on reality.”

“Were you able to contact your parents?”

“Yeah. They said they’re on the Honam Expressway now. It’s so backed up they’re barely inching along.”

“They’ll be fine.”

We were still clearing dungeons throughout the Gyeongbuk region, suppressing them the moment they appeared, but we hadn’t found the portal yet. Could the Magic Tower’s information be wrong this time? Even we were starting to have our doubts. Just in case, I had already leaked a tip that the Boss Zone was likely in Gyeongbuk, but with so many rumors and false reports swirling around the Labyrinth Dungeon, it had little impact.

For now, I had sent Seojin back to the Magic Tower to gather more intelligence on the Disaster’s Boss Zone. He was suffering from accumulated fatigue, and this would give him time to collect more data. Eunsol was also exhausted, so I sent her with him. The Magic Tower, forged from a shape-memory alloy, was probably the safest place in all of Korea.

After they left, it was just me, Bora, and the two rank-5 hunters in the car. Heejong hung up a call with an official and heaved a deep sigh.

“Seriously, how is this possible? Every player in the country is searching like their lives depend on it, but they still can’t find it after more than five days?”

“…Tell me about it.”

Rumors were rampant. For one, the Labyrinth Dungeon’s range wasn’t limited to South Korea. It excluded parts of Jeolla Province but stretched into Gangwon Province in North Korea. This sparked a theory that the Boss Zone had appeared in the North, and they were deliberately keeping it a secret to watch the South burn.

Of course, I thought that was absurd. If South Korea became a monster-infested wasteland, North Korea would be next. Such an act was illogical, even from a simple neutral standpoint.

The theory I found most plausible was the existence of falsely reported clears. The number of dungeon gates was so immense that the government was using not only certified hunters but also a large number of provisionally licensed players for the search. It was entirely possible that some of them had filed false reports, claiming to have cleared a dungeon without ever setting foot inside. The verification process lacked standardization, leaving ample room for exploitation.

The most reliable method was to check if people had the mana stone from the boss monster, but in a chaotic situation like this, it was physically impossible to inspect every single party.

So, it seemed the Association was trying a different approach. According to information Ms. Shin had obtained, they were deploying certified hunters to re-verify dungeons where the “clear” status was suspicious.

But this method also had clear limitations. The number of certified hunters was finite, and new dungeons were appearing by the second. And what about the simple possibility that the dungeon containing the portal just hadn’t manifested yet? They had to suppress new dungeons and verify old ones simultaneously.

’That Association President must be at her wits’ end.’

Against a Disaster of this scale, even top-tier hunters like rank 1s or 2s had no easy solution. They, too, had to enter each dungeon and search for the portal one by one. They might be faster, but the legwork was just as grueling.

“We’ve arrived!”

Lost in thought, I hadn’t realized we had already reached the next dungeon. I got Bora ready while Heejong woke up Yoonji.

“Ms. Jo. Wake up.”

“…Mmm.”

Yoonji rubbed her haggard eyes. With no time to wash, let alone apply makeup or fix herself up while grinding through dungeons, she looked utterly worn out. Like a zombie, she fumbled with her gear and grumbled.

“…Haaah, what a mess. What’s the point of earning all these mana stones if Korea gets destroyed anyway?”

Bora chimed in, “We can just gather a ton of mana stones, build a raft, and float over to China or Japan.”

“…Are you an idiot?”

“Hehe.”

Having fought for their lives together, the two, who used to bicker constantly, had grown quite close. We got out of the car and headed for the dungeon gate.

“Let’s go.”

“Time to gear up for one more round!”

And so, we made our way toward another dungeon.

* * *

Disaster, Labyrinth Dungeon – Day Six.

The government finally made a decision. They began operating a number of evacuation ships to transport those who were isolated. But the ships were too few, and accusations flew that they were merely a means for the families of the rich and powerful to escape. The lack of transparency regarding the passenger lists drew blatant criticism.

The Association also made a decision. They released a “Dungeon Re-check List” not just to certified hunters, but to all players across the country.

This was significant. It was tantamount to the Association officially admitting, ’We may have missed a dungeon.’

Now, on the command app, dungeons were marked green, yellow, or red. Red for a newly opened dungeon. Yellow for a dungeon that a party had been dispatched to and cleared. Green for a dungeon that had already been cleared but was “re-verified” as portal-free by a second party.

The Association’s command was acting proactively. While they still prioritized sending teams to new dungeons, they began dispatching other, more exhausted parties to yellow dungeons for re-verification.

However, many criticized the Association’s move as a “waste of time.” With so many dungeons yet to be cleared, they argued, why create more work? There was no right answer.

Meanwhile, on Jeju Island, at the Emergency Committee’s temporary command post.

“What in the hell kind of a job are you doing?!”

The President of the Republic of Korea, Park Jeongyang, slammed his hand on the table and pointed an accusing finger. Standing before him was the Hunter Association President, Hong Yul, who had been summoned.

“A Dungeon Re-check List? How many times have I told you not to do that? I said, if you absolutely had to, do it secretly with only Association personnel! But you just officially release it to the public? Do you have a brain in your head?!”

She remained silent.

“Why stir up trouble?! What will the people think of us? At a time when the entire nation needs to unite around a foundation of trust, you go and create unnecessary controversy! Who’s going to take responsibility for this? Huh?”

“Hey, Ms. President! If you have a mouth, say something!” an Emergency Committee member shouted.

It was at that moment. Her drooping head dipped into a full ninety-degree bow. Then, with a soft “Mmm,” she lifted her head, opened her mouth wide, and began to yawn.

“…Ugh, so damn loud.”

“M-Ms. President!”

As Yul’s golden eyes flashed, the President flinched and leaned back. The surrounding committee members cried out.

“What is this disrespectful attitude?! Do you know where you are?!”

“Where else? A garbage site for dog-shit, isn’t it?”

Everyone stared in shock at her retort. The sheer audacity of her words left them speechless. The Hunter Association was an organization that answered to the government.

But Hong Yul, as an individual, did not.

“Did you call someone who’s busting their ass in the field just to listen to this pathetic bullshit? Is propping up the Emergency Committee’s authority and playing politics for show more important than human lives? You fucking hopeless morons! You must not grasp the situation since you’re all sitting pretty in a safe place. In the time it took me to fly here from Seoul by helicopter, I could have cleared twenty more dungeons.”

“Such outrageous language…!”

“The only thing outrageous here is your shit-filled head. Why don’t you all just keep sucking each other off instead of dragging other people into your goddamn mess?”

The committee member’s face turned beet red as he stammered, “You…! You…!”

Yul was the strongest hunter, a priceless asset. Countless countries wanted her. If she grew dissatisfied and naturalized elsewhere, the entire Korean hunter ecosystem would face collapse. That was the level of influence a single individual possessed.

She smirked and turned around.

“Better to get some sleep than to play along with your useless games. Hey.”

The executive officer standing behind her bowed his head. “Yes, Ms. President.”

“How long did I sleep?”

“Three hours.”

“Slept in too much. Time to get back to work.”

The President shot up from his seat and yelled, “H-Hey, Ms. Hong! Wait!”

“Three seconds wasted. About six more people just died.”

He was rendered speechless.

“Don’t stop me. I’m leaving now.”

“Stop, Ms. President.”

Among those present, a tall, slender, middle-aged man stood up. When Yul turned, the man bowed his head.

“I apologize for summoning our greatest soldier during this critical time. But we have our reasons. Give us a justification.”

“A justification?”

“We need a reason convincing enough for everyone to accept, one that justifies pushing back the new dungeon raid in order to carry out this re-inspection.”

Was it human error? Or had the dungeon leading to the Labyrinth’s Boss Zone simply not appeared yet? An anomalous phenomenon was, by definition, something with no scientific explanation, so one could only speculate.

“Isn’t it obvious, Minister Cha?”

Most people believed the dungeon leading to the Boss Zone just hadn’t appeared yet. But…

“Historically speaking, it’s always been humans who kill other humans, hasn’t it?”

“…Don’t tell me.”

“Why are you so surprised? I’m leaving.”

With those words, Hong Yul left the Emergency Committee.

* * *

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