That day passed quickly, the sun setting beyond the misty treeline of the dungeon's outer floor. Hemin, once again, returned to the guild with another mountain of loot. Emilia, who handled his report, found herself staring in disbelief.
Every day this young adventurer walked in with a bundle of horned rabbit meat, cores, and materials far exceeding any rookie's haul. And yet, he always brought them with the same calm expression, as if it were routine.
Still, thanks to the high demand for rabbit meat and materials, every bit of Hemin's hunt was sold instantly. The guild was struggling to meet even one percent of the total requests from nearby towns and restaurants.
Because of that, the guild master personally ordered Emilia to pay slightly higher rates for all rabbit-related loot—an incentive to keep supplies flowing in.
After their transaction, Emilia hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Mister Hemin, about your... storage skill. I would appreciate it if you didn't show that around others. Skills like that draw attention, especially from the wrong kind."
Hemin nodded lightly. "Don't worry. You're the only one I've shown it to."
That simple answer made Emilia blink. Trust—genuine and unguarded. It wasn't something she often received from adventurers, who usually treated her like just another guild employee. She hid her faint smile behind her professional demeanor, but deep down, it warmed her heart a little.
[ • ] Five days passed after that.
During those days, Hemin's routine was simple and disciplined. Hunt, rest, refine his swordsmanship, and experiment with his armament's abilities. He didn't push further into the dungeon yet, choosing instead to dominate the first floor completely. But on the morning of the fifth day, something strange broke the usual rhythm.
While patrolling beyond his usual hunting ground, Hemin froze upon noticing movement through the dense foliage.
Three horned rabbits—but unlike the others, they moved in a formation. One in front, acting as a vanguard, another guarding the rear, and the last one standing in the middle with three hovering stones orbiting behind it, each inscribed with luminous runes.
Their gazes held an eerie sense of awareness, a glint of intelligence.
'A group? Don't tell me… they're working together?'
Hemin crouched low, heart beating faster as he observed from behind a tree. The trio advanced cautiously into another monster's territory—the domain of Tusk Boars.
Normally, even seasoned adventurers avoided them. Their thick hides and brutal charges made them near-impossible prey for low-level fighters. Yet, here were three rabbits, boldly stepping into that danger zone.
The air trembled with tension as the first boar roared. Then chaos erupted. The two front rabbits darted forward with shocking speed, slamming into the boar's legs. Their claws cut through the creature's defense like sharpened blades.
Meanwhile, the middle rabbit raised one of its floating stones—the runes glowed—and in a flash, a spear of light shot forth, piercing through the boar's thick hide like paper.
Hemin's eyes widened. "A magic caster...? No way…"
When the dust settled, the rabbits began dividing the spoils. One collected the boar's meat—huge slabs of it—while the others stood guard. It was… organized. Almost military.
'They're intelligent. Not just beasts anymore.' Hemin thought, feeling a chill crawl down his spine. 'That means they're evolving…'
Then his lips curved slightly. 'All the better. I'll hunt them and see what they drop.'
[ • ] With a plan in mind, he climbed to a high branch and watched. The caster rabbit stayed slightly behind, protected by the vanguard. Perfect.
He waited until the group walked beneath his position. Then—he struck.
Hemin dropped from above like a falling blade, sword raised high. His target was clear: the caster. The biggest threat.
But the moment his blade descended, the rabbit turned its head and grinned. One of its stones pulsed, forming a translucent barrier between them.
'Shit!'
A heavy claw strike rushed toward him from behind. The guarding rabbit had already reacted. Hemin's instincts screamed.
In an instant, he invoked all his enhancement skills—
[Accel], [Feather Step], [Physical Boost]!
The world slowed. His thoughts accelerated. Every movement became clear as crystal. His muscles screamed under the strain, but the rush of speed was intoxicating. With his [Natural Sense] amplifying his perception, he sidestepped the claw by a hair's breadth.
"—Now!"
His sword flared. [Chop] + [Sharp Edge].
The vertical slash cut through the glowing barrier, the compressed aura surrounding his blade ripping through the spell like tearing silk. The sword continued down, cleaving the mage rabbit clean in two.
A jolt of agony tore through his body. Blood surged to his head—he had exceeded his limit. His body wasn't ready for that kind of strain. But there was no time to rest. The other two were already rushing toward him.
Hemin gritted his teeth, took a stance again, and faced them head-on.
The fight was short, brutal, and silent.
When it was over, Hemin stood among three fallen horned rabbits, breathing heavily, the metallic scent of blood mixing with the faint mist of mana in the air. He picked up the three dropped cores—two red, one silver.
The red ones remained inert, but the silver core resonated faintly with his sword, pulsing in rhythm with the armament's light.
"Interesting…" Hemin murmured, tucking the cores into storage. Then he opened a small vial and gulped down the healing potion he'd bought earlier.
The burning in his veins eased slightly, and the cracks forming on his skin began to heal. He wiped the blood from his arm and looked up toward the shimmering dungeon ceiling.
"Guess... I pushed a little too far today."
Still, he couldn't help but grin. The thrill of battle, the rush of growth—it was addictive. With his bag heavy with loot and his body aching in triumph, Hemin turned back toward the guild path, hoping the way back would stay quiet for once.
On his way back, Hemin only crossed paths with a few stray horned rabbits. Their movements were slow and predictable—a far cry from the intelligent, coordinated trio he'd just faced. Each fell with a single stroke of his blade, the sound of steel slicing through flesh echoing faintly in the dungeon's quiet halls.
By the time he reached the surface, his body was aching and his clothes were completely soaked in blood—not just his own, but the monsters'. The smell of iron followed him like a shadow. The guild's bustling main hall quieted as he stepped in. A few adventurers turned their heads, curious, while others whispered among themselves. But Hemin ignored them. His expression was calm, eyes fixed on one thing—the counter where Emilia stood.
"Eh?! Hemin, what happened to you?" Emilia's voice broke the air, sharper than usual. She took a step forward, her eyes scanning his torn, blood-stained outfit. The shock in her tone unintentionally drew more attention—especially from those who noticed she called him by name so casually.
Hemin gave a faint smile, scratching the back of his neck. "It's fine. Just... got into something unexpected." His tone was even, but his eyes were serious. "Emilia, can you call the guild master for me? There's something I need to report—something important."
Emilia blinked, surprised by the sudden gravity in his voice. For a moment, she hesitated—but something about Hemin's expression told her this wasn't a false alarm. Without asking further, she nodded and gestured him toward one of the private rooms. "Wait there. I'll bring him."
• • •
Inside the guild master's office, a gruff voice echoed above a pile of half-finished paperwork.
"So, the boy's covered in blood and says he has important news?" The burly man leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. His broad shoulders were draped in a worn coat, his eyes showing the exhaustion of someone juggling too many problems at once.
Emilia stood before him, arms crossed, her usual calm expression replaced by quiet determination.
"Uncle Hilton, you know I don't interrupt your work without reason. You should hear him out," she said firmly.
Hilton sighed. "You're giving that kid a lot of credit lately, aren't you?"
Emilia shook her head. "No. I'm doing my job. But... I trust my instincts, and he hasn't been wrong yet."
Hilton groaned under his breath, massaging his neck. "Alright, alright. I'll go. You're just like your mother—never let a man have a quiet morning." He stood, muttering something about "paperwork being more peaceful than people," and followed Emilia down the hall.
• • •
When the guild master entered the private room, Hemin immediately stood and bowed lightly. "Guild master, thank you for taking the time."
Hilton grunted, pulling a chair across from him. "Let's skip the formalities. What happened out there?"
Hemin took a steady breath before explaining, "I came across something strange in the outer region—a variant group of horned rabbits. They were… different. They moved together like a team. One acted as a guard, one carried the spoils, and one… could use magic."
Hilton's brows furrowed. "Magic? From a horned rabbit?"
To confirm his words, Hemin placed several items on the table—three smooth stones etched with runic patterns, a strange pelt that shimmered faintly as if infused with mana, and a delicate fan-shaped leaf that emitted a faint glow when moved.
"These stones floated behind the magic-type rabbit," Hemin continued. "When one lit up, it released a projectile that pierced through a Tusk Boar's hide. And this pelt came from that same creature."
Hilton leaned forward, examining the items with a careful, seasoned gaze. He didn't need to be told twice—these weren't ordinary drops.
"And these cores?" he asked, eyeing the two red and one silver that Hemin laid out next.
"The red ones came from the physical types. The silver core was from the caster. I'd like to keep one of the red ones, if that's alright."
Hilton waved a hand. "Of course. It's your loot—you earned it. One is enough for our study."
As Hemin pocketed the core, Hilton sat back, deep in thought. Emilia quietly observed from the corner, sensing the heavy atmosphere building in the room.
"This… complicates things," Hilton murmured finally. "Monsters working together, using magic—that's not something we've recorded on the first floor before."
He exhaled slowly, his expression hardening. "If your report's accurate—and I believe it is—it means what that old researcher said might've been true after all. Monsters aren't just respawning anymore... they're evolving."
He turned toward the window, where light spilled faintly into the room. "And if that's the case, it's only a matter of time before the balance of this dungeon collapses."
A long silence followed. Emilia glanced at her uncle, then at Hemin. The guild master's next words came out like a low growl.
"We'll increase the guard patrols on the first floor and send word to the capital. For now, don't spread this around. Panic won't help anyone."
Hemin nodded. "Understood."