The gate didn't just open.
It erupted.
A deafening roar tore through the air as the oval-shaped rift ballooned outward like an inflating lung. The surface warped violently before bursting apart, releasing a wave of pressure so heavy it felt like someone had dropped a mountain onto Leo's chest.
He staggered back, his feet skidding in the grass. A shockwave rippled outward, rattling the barricades and knocking over a few Association staff. Papers and clipboards were scattered in the wind.
The once shimmering blue of the gate had turned deep violet, its edges writhing unnaturally, like it was… alive.
Leo had read about this. He'd seen panels of it in Solo Leveling fan forums, back when he was just a loser in his bedroom scrolling through manga sites.
Gate break.
When a gate isn't cleared in time, it doesn't close—it bursts. And when it bursts, everything inside comes spilling out.
Hunters cursed loudly, scrambling to form a defensive line.
"Formation! Formation!" a tall man with a spear barked. His voice cut through the chaos like a whip crack.
But even as the hunters tried to rally, Leo could see the fear in their eyes. None of them had been expecting this. This wasn't some scheduled raid—they'd been preparing for a low-level clean-up. Now? They had no idea what was about to come through.
The Association workers were yelling, waving civilians back, but panic had taken over. People shoved each other, desperate to get away. Somewhere to Leo's right, a woman screamed as she was knocked to the ground.
Leo wanted to help her—he really did—but his legs refused to move toward danger. His survival instincts were screaming at him: Run. Now.
But… where?
The sound came next.
Not one sound, but many.
The scraping of claws against stone. The heavy, wet thud of footsteps was too heavy for any human. A deep, guttural growl that seemed to vibrate in his bones.
And then, they emerged.
The first thing through the gate was a shape Leo recognized instantly: a wolf—but not any wolf from Earth. This thing was bigger than a horse, its fur matted black, its eyes glowing with a sickly yellow light. Its maw opened to reveal jagged teeth, dripping with saliva that hissed when it hit the grass.
An Icefang Lycan.
Those are… D-rank monsters. At least D-rank.
Behind it came more. Not just wolves—twisted, armored goblins with jagged spears. Short, but fast. Their leathery green skin was smeared with blood and grime.
The goblins screeched the moment they crossed the threshold, their cries high-pitched and feral. The wolves barked—no, roared—in some horrific chorus that made Leo's skin crawl.
The hunters didn't hesitate.
"Frontline! Hold them!" the spear-user yelled.
A man in thick leather armor charged forward, slashing at the first goblin with a longsword. Another hunter loosed an arrow that buried itself in the throat of a wolf mid-leap.
The air filled with the clash of steel, the snap of bowstrings, and the sickening crunch of bones breaking.
Leo could only stare.
He'd always thought, reading manhwa, that he'd be excited—thrilled—to see a real fight between hunters and monsters. But in reality? It was horrifying. The speed, the savagery—it was nothing like a comic panel. Here, every strike could mean life or death. And people were already dying.
A goblin darted past the frontlines, moving faster than Leo thought possible. Before the nearest hunter could turn, the goblin's crude spear drove into his ribs.
The man screamed, stumbling backward. Blood poured down his armor.
Another hunter—a woman with short black hair—yelled something unintelligible and ran to intercept, cutting the goblin clean in half. But Leo couldn't unsee the way the man clutched his side, blood pooling beneath him.
The goblins weren't the only problem. The wolves were tearing through the grass, circling the hunters, looking for openings. One of them lunged straight at a distracted archer.
Leo's heart stopped.
The wolf was going to kill him.
But before it could, the spear-user intercepted, slamming the butt of his weapon into the wolf's jaw before driving the spearhead straight through its skull. The wolf collapsed with a sickening thud.
Leo realized his hands were shaking. His breath was ragged. His mind screamed at him: Move. Get away from here before something notices you.
He turned toward the street, looking for an opening through the crowd.
That's when one of the wolves looked straight at him.
Its head tilted slightly, as if surprised to see someone just standing there. Then its lips peeled back, revealing rows of bloody teeth.
"...Shit."
The wolf bolted toward him.
Leo didn't think—he ran.
He'd never been fast, never been athletic. But fear lent him speed he didn't know he had. His sneakers pounded against the pavement as he darted between fleeing civilians.
The wolf was faster.
He could hear it—hear the pounding of its massive paws closing the distance. People screamed as they saw it chasing him. Someone tried to grab his arm to pull him into an alley, but he yanked free.
He could feel its breath now, hot and rancid on the back of his neck.
And then—
"Down!"
Leo didn't even think. He dropped to the ground.
A blur of motion shot over him. A blade, glowing faintly with mana, sliced through the air. The wolf's momentum carried it forward, then its head separated from its body in a spray of black blood.
The corpse crashed to the ground, skidding to a stop just feet away.
Leo looked up.
The man who'd saved him was young, maybe mid-twenties, with messy black hair and a look of intense focus in his eyes. He didn't say a word—just gave Leo a single glance before turning back toward the fight.
Leo recognized him instantly.
Cha Hae-In…? No. Too early for her. Then… who—?
He didn't have time to finish the thought.
Another wave of monsters poured from the gate. Bigger ones this time. Hulking figures with stone-like skin and massive clubs. Their roars were deafening, shaking the very air.
The hunters were being pushed back.
Leo knew what came next. He'd read enough, seen enough in his old life to know how this story went for people like him—the powerless.
He wasn't going to survive this.
His eyes darted to the side. An alley. Narrow, dark, maybe leading to safety.
His body moved before his mind finished deciding. He sprinted toward it, ignoring the chaos behind him, ignoring the guilt that clawed at his gut for running while others fought.
The sounds of battle faded the deeper he went. His breathing was ragged, his heart pounding so hard it hurt.
He stopped only when he was sure he was alone.
For a long moment, he just stood there, bent over, gasping for air. The alley smelled faintly of garbage and damp stone, but right now it was the sweetest air he'd ever breathed.
Then a thought hit him.
I'm in the Solo Leveling world. I'm not a hunter. I have no powers. No money. No allies. And gates like that… happen all the time.
His stomach turned. This wasn't just some fan's dream come true. This was a nightmare. Every day would be a gamble. Every step could be his last.
And unless something changed—unless he found a way to survive, a second life wouldn't last long.