The rain fell in relentless sheets, drumming against the cracked concrete and turning Seoul's alleys into narrow rivers of glimmering water. Neon signs flickered like distant stars caught in the haze, reflected in the puddles below. The city pulsed with indifferent life, the sort that ignored hunger, struggle, and despair. Jae-hyun crouched beneath the flimsy canopy of a convenience store, clutching a thin umbrella more as a talisman than protection. Every raindrop that struck his jacket felt like a reminder of how fragile his existence was.
He was twenty-five, but life had aged him beyond his years. Odd jobs came and went, and no matter how hard he worked, money slipped through his fingers as though mocking him. His mother's coughs echoed through their cramped apartment, fragile reminders of her failing health. His younger sisters—Mina, a spirited twelve-year-old with a stubborn streak, and Yuri, ten, shy and observant—leaned on him for security and hope. Even his father, a shadowy memory, existed only in fragments: stories whispered in the quiet moments of his childhood.
Hope had become a fragile, brittle thing. Dreams had long since abandoned him. Yet tonight, despite the rain and despair, a spark lingered inside Jae-hyun—a faint, almost imperceptible flicker that whispered of change.
An E-rank dungeon had appeared in an abandoned warehouse district, its portal glowing faintly blue against the storm. Officially, it was harmless, almost trivial—a starter dungeon meant for low-level hunters. But for Jae-hyun, who had never set foot inside a dungeon before, it represented opportunity. One successful raid could feed his family for months. Could save them from the gnawing anxiety of hunger. Could provide a fragile shield against a life that had never been kind.
Fear clenched his chest like iron. He had no powers, no formal training. Nothing but rumors: whispers of latent F-rank abilities, barely perceptible, rumored to awaken in those desperate enough to survive. F-rank. Weak. Insignificant. But even the smallest ember could ignite into a roaring blaze.
He took a step forward.
The portal swallowed him in a whirl of light and cold, twisting space and perception. Streets, rain, and neon vanished. Stone walls rose around him, damp with moisture, echoing faintly with the whispers of creatures lurking in shadow. He was in the unknown, and the unknown was alive.
A goblin emerged. Yellowed skin stretched tight over thin bones, eyes glowing red with predatory cunning. It moved with jagged precision, a hunter in its own right. Jae-hyun froze, paralyzed by terror and awe. He had read about these creatures, but the reality was a brutal assault on the senses—the stench, the glint of teeth, the calculating malice in its gaze.
It lunged.
Instinct flared. He rolled, barely avoiding its jagged claws. Heart pounding, he swung a broken piece of wood, striking it lightly. The goblin hissed, but something strange happened. A faint warmth blossomed inside his chest, spreading through his limbs. Energy, weak but tangible, flowed into him.
His latent F-rank power had awakened: the ability to devour essence. The sensation was intoxicating, terrifying, and thrilling. Each heartbeat, each strike, each dodge drew more vitality into him. Fear melted into exhilaration, and exhilaration into hunger—a hunger to survive, to grow stronger, to seize power.
Minutes—or hours—blurred. Time lost meaning as he dodged, struck, and absorbed. Every goblin he bested left him slightly stronger, slightly more attuned to the power now thrumming through his veins. Exhaustion pressed on him like a vice, but even fatigue seemed weaker, more manageable, as if the dungeon itself acknowledged his will to survive.
He paused, leaning against the wet stone wall, and allowed himself a rare moment of reflection. Memories of his family surged forth—his mother's gentle smile despite her illness, Mina's stubborn laughter, Yuri's quiet reassurances. Each memory fed a deeper resolve. This power, whatever its origin, was not for himself alone. It existed to protect them, to carve a path toward safety and security.
The dungeon seemed to pulse in response to him. Shadows shifted unnaturally, and the air was thick with latent energy, hinting at challenges far beyond his current understanding. He realized the first step of survival was not brute force but perception—understanding the ebb and flow of life and danger.
He pressed onward. The goblins became more cunning, more coordinated, as if sensing his growing strength. Each encounter tested him, pushing him to adapt and innovate. He noticed patterns—the slight hesitation before an attack, the twitch of a muscle revealing intent, the faint hum of residual magic lingering in the air. He learned quickly, his mind absorbing strategy as his body absorbed energy.
Hours passed, though the dungeon made no sense of time. He fought until his muscles screamed and his lungs burned, yet every encounter brought clarity, control, and power. By the time he emerged, the storm had waned, leaving a mist that blurred the cityscape. Rain slicked streets reflected the neon glow like fractured mirrors. He was soaked, shivering, exhausted—but alive.
The first fragment of his destiny had ignited. A hunger pulsed within him, a whispering promise of strength, ambition, and danger. Power would grow with each enemy, each skill absorbed, each essence devoured. He understood instinctively that the road ahead would be treacherous, filled with monsters, rival hunters, and unimaginable challenges—but he was no longer the same man who had trembled beneath the convenience store canopy.
He thought of his family again. His mother, frail but resilient; Mina, fiery and determined; Yuri, quiet and intuitive. They were the lodestar of his resolve. Each step forward in this world would be a step to protect them, to give them what life had so far denied. Yet beneath this protective instinct, a deeper, more primal hunger stirred—the hunger to dominate, to grow, to surpass the limitations that the world imposed on the weak.
As he walked through the streets, drenched in rain and newfound purpose, he glimpsed shadows in the distance—hunters of C-rank, B-rank, and beyond, their presence a subtle warning of the hierarchy he would have to navigate. Dungeons of greater rank waited, their portals shimmering with challenges designed to test courage, wit, and power. Beyond them, whispered legends spoke of S, SS, and SSS ranks—beings of unimaginable might, capable of leveling cities or devouring entire armies.
And further still, the unspoken myths of EX-rank entities, powers that transcended human understanding, beings whose names were barely whispered in fear and awe across the continents.
He understood, with a clarity that was almost terrifying: survival had been merely the beginning. Understanding and growth would follow, but mastery—the kind that could reshape the world—was a path long, arduous, and perilous.
For now, the spark in his chest pulsed steadily, guiding him forward. It whispered of hunger unending, of strength unimaginable, and of a future he would shape with his own hands. Every E-rank dungeon conquered, every fragment of essence absorbed, every skill devoured would forge him into something greater. Something unstoppable. Something destined to leave an indelible mark on a world that had long ignored him.
Jae-hyun took a deep breath. The city's indifferent noise returned, the hum of life indifferent to the tiny victory of one struggling man. Yet he didn't care. The first chapter of his legend had begun. And deep inside, a hunger roared—a hunger that would not be sated until he had devoured everything that dared to stand in his path.
The hidden spark had ignited, and nothing would ever be the same.
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