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Prologue — Death of a D-Rank Hunter
The C-rank dungeon on the outskirts of Seoul was considered safe.
Too safe, some said.
That was why only low-rank hunters were sent inside—
to gain experience, to earn survival money.
Among them was Han Joon-Woo.
A D-rank hunter.
No talent worth mentioning.
No powerful skills.
Just an ordinary man trying to stay alive.
"It looks clear,"
said the team leader, Park Min-Seok, though uncertainty lingered in his voice.
The moment they reached the third floor, the air changed.
Mana density spiked unnaturally.
Ancient runes on the walls began to pulse.
Then—
Something emerged from the shadows.
An Abyss Horned Ogre.
Its pressure crushed their breathing.
"This isn't C-rank!"
someone shouted, but it was already too late.
With a single swing, two hunters were smashed into the ground.
Blood splattered across the stone floor.
Joon-Woo tried to retreat, but black tentacles burst from the ground and wrapped around his legs.
His heart pounded violently.
The last thought that crossed his mind was simple—
"If only I were stronger…"
The ogre's arm descended.
A sharp crack echoed.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
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Chapter 1 — Reborn in Murim
Pain.
But not the pain of dying.
It was the pain of being alive.
Han Joon-Woo opened his eyes to a wooden ceiling.
A dim oil lamp flickered nearby.
The air smelled of herbs and blood.
"He's breathing,"
an old man said quietly.
"But his meridians… they're damaged."
Joon-Woo understood immediately.
This was not Seoul.
This body was frail, unfamiliar.
And the name it carried was—
Lin Mo.
This world was different.
No guns.
No technology.
Here, Qi ruled everything.
Martial sects dominated the land.
Demonic cults thrived in the shadows.
And in Murim—
Weakness was a sin punishable by death.
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Chapter 2 — The Black Tablet
Years later, while hiding in an abandoned cave deep within the forest, Lin Mo discovered something strange.
A black stone tablet.
The moment he touched it, a voice echoed in his mind.
> Demonic Copy Mastery
Lines of text appeared before his eyes.
Any technique witnessed once could be learned
Any Qi circulation experienced could be replicated
A single encounter was enough for perfect mastery
But beneath those words was another line.
> "With every copy, the demon within grows deeper."
Each technique Lin Mo copied darkened his Qi.
A crimson glint slowly appeared in his eyes.
Nightmares plagued his sleep.
Yet he never stopped.
In Murim, stopping meant death.
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Chapter 3 — Twenty Years Later
Twenty years passed.
Murim was no longer the same.
The gates of Shaolin remained closed.
Wudang's sword halls stood empty.
Even the Demon Cult existed only in name.
Across the land, only one title was spoken—
The Demonic Copy Sovereign — Lin Mo.
He had copied everything:
Shaolin's Vajra Body
Wudang's Taiji Sword
The Demon King's forbidden blood arts
Murim had bowed before him.
Then—
The sky split apart.
A massive divine wheel descended from the heavens.
"You do not belong to this world,"
a voice declared.
Blinding light consumed everything.
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Chapter 4 — Return to the Beginning
Han Joon-Woo opened his eyes once more.
A white hospital ceiling.
The steady beep of a machine.
"Han Joon-Woo? Can you hear me?"
He raised his hand.
Weak.
Painfully weak.
A status screen appeared.
> Rank: D
Talent: Low
Then he saw the calendar.
One year earlier.
The exact time before his death in the dungeon.
A faint smile formed on his lips.
Because—
Twenty years of Murim lived within his memories.
And Demonic Copy Mastery
was still with him.
"This time,"
Joon-Woo whispered,
"the dungeon won't kill me."
This time—
it will become the doorway to my reign.