IOERG 01

A damp, unpleasant humidity sticky with moisture filled the narrow cave.

Along with the sound of water dripping from the moss on the ceiling, the sour smell of bloody stench vibrated from the goblin corpses strewn across the floor.

“Whew.”

Lim Chan-ho let out a short breath and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead.

In front of him were five or six goblins lying dead, haphazardly piled on top of one another. They were traces left behind after the advance team of hunters had swept through roughly. The fierce battle, filled with flashing magical spells and gleaming sharp weapons, was already long over. The desperate screams of the monsters had ceased long ago as well.

All that remained was the tedious and disgusting work of rummaging through the beastly corpses one by one to extract low-grade mana stones that could be sold for money.

Slicing.

The dulled blade dug into the goblin’s tough hide. Covered in blood, Chan-ho’s hands moved mechanically. Fumbling through the space between bones and entrails, he dug out a murky mana stone about the size of a thumb.

Tossing the sticky mana stone into a leather pouch, he straightened his back, feeling a dull pain surge up his spine.

“The smell is exceptionally bad today.”

He wanted to rip off his blood-stained gloves and throw them away, but he endured it. In his inner chest pocket was a crisp hunter license. It was undeniably an official identification card issued through formal procedures.

Yet, making a mockery of that license, the work he was currently doing in the dungeon was not fighting monsters, but rather butcher work, dismembering corpses.

An exceptional rank that had never existed once since the establishment of the hunter ranking system.

FFF-rank.

That was the official label permanently attached in front of Lim Chan-ho’s name, unable to be erased.

When he was first evaluated, he thought the Association’s mana measurement device was completely broken. Two times, three times, he begged the official in charge and repeatedly underwent re-examinations, but the result displayed on the monitor remained obstinately identical.

That damn stigma was more than enough to plunge Chan-ho’s life into a complete quagmire.

During his academy days, he couldn’t even properly handle the lowest-grade training monsters within the time limit. His classmates openly made him a laughingstock. On graduation day, while high-performing classmates were loudly laughing as they received recruitment offers from famous guilds, not a single person handed Chan-ho a business card.

It was only natural. A regular guild, where efficiency and performance were everything, had no reason to take in an FFF-rank hunter whose mana level was below the measurement threshold.

In the end, the only thing he could do to desperately scrape by was wake up early every morning, refresh the hunter-exclusive app, and pick up vacant spots in daily laborer parties with no-shows.

“Hey. Look over there. He’s really making a work of art.”

A sarcastic voice resonated from deeper inside the cave.

Three men carrying heavy backpacks stopped as they passed by Chan-ho. They were unawakened porters who didn’t participate in combat at all, merely carrying loot and spare gear silently.

Chan-ho glanced at them briefly and lowered his eyes again without saying a word. Getting involved with them was bound to end up exhausting.

However, the porters didn’t seem inclined to pass by quietly.

“Ugh, the smell. He covered his entire body in blood.”

“Tell me about it. Big bro, look at that guy. Does a creature like that get to take home the same allowance as us just because he’s called a hunter? Ha, the world is way too unfair to live in.”

It was a blatant taunt meant for him to hear. Biting his lip tightly, Chan-ho silently approached the next goblin corpse.

Perhaps displeased by his lack of reaction, the largest man among the porters deliberately shifted direction and blocked Chan-ho’s path.

“Hey. Don’t block the path. You’re getting in the way while people are carrying luggage.”

The man snapped gruffly and kicked the ground hard with his high-heeled work boots.

Thwack.

A mixture of muddy dirt dust and blood oozing from the goblin’s entrails splattered in all directions. A considerable amount of it stuck to Chan-ho’s cheek and the chest of his worn-out work clothes. The clammy, cold sensation of the filth vibrated vividly against his skin.

“Ah, my bad. The ground was slippery, so my foot slipped.”

Standing crookedly, the man smirked as he spoke. His tone carried no remorse whatsoever. The other porters standing behind him snickered and burst into laughter alongside him.

“Big bro, hold back a bit. He’s supposed to be a hunter; what if you get on his bad side? What if he uses scary magic on you later?”

“Hunter? Hunter my ass. Is someone digging through goblin bellies in an F-rank dungeon a hunter? He’s just a butcher slicing meat, that bastard. What kind of hunter flexes when he doesn’t even have a single guild business card?”

Giggly laughter echoed noisily along the narrow, damp cave walls.

Even the unawakened porters who couldn’t handle mana didn’t treat Chan-ho like a hunter. A humiliating situation where he couldn’t properly fit into the ecosystem of normal society and was thoroughly ignored by ordinary people. The miserable reality of being an FFF-rank was no different whether in the outside world or inside a dungeon.

Red blood dripped slowly down Chan-ho’s cheek and off his chin.

His grip tightened on the hilt of the dagger. His calloused fist was clenched so hard it turned pale white. He felt a blood-red anger surging up from his abdomen. He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

If I land a punch right on that jawline right now…

No matter if he was an FFF-rank, he was still a hunter’s body that had undergone the process of awakening. At the very least, Chan-ho believed he could erase that fishy smirk with a single punch.

However, Chan-ho squeezed his eyes shut, opened them, and took a deep breath.

The predictable situation that would follow if he swung his fist out of hot temper was vividly drawn in his mind.

Assaulting a daily laborer party member—and an unawakened person at that—would be reported to the raid leader, and he would be kicked out of the party immediately. He wouldn’t receive a single penny of the allowance he spent all day rolling in filthy blood to earn, and in the worst-case scenario, he would be recorded as a bad worker on the Association’s daily laborer app. Then, he wouldn’t be able to join any cheap parties for the time being.

The wrinkled faces of his parents back in his hometown flashed through Chan-ho’s empty head.

The medical bills and living expense money he had to send every single month without fail, the monthly rent for his cramped rooftop room that kept rising, and the minimum food expense to sustain his harsh livelihood tomorrow.

Outside this foul-smelling dungeon, a mountain of cold realities he had to bear entirely by himself was piled high. He couldn’t recklessly cut off his only source of income just to uphold a piece of shallow pride here.

“…No.”

Chan-ho slowly unclenched his tightly held fist.

“I am sorry for blocking the path.”

When he bowed his head deeply and apologized in a flat voice, the large porter clicked his tongue in disappointment as if it were no fun.

“Tsk, what a boring bastard. A guy who calls himself a hunter doesn’t even have grit in his eyes.”

“Leave him be. A guy with nothing to his name knows he’s the only one who loses if he throws a temper. That’s why he crawls around on dungeon floors in that state every day. Let’s hurry up and follow the advance team. If we’re late, the raid leader will curse at us like crazy again.”

Losing interest in picking a fight any further, the porters chattered among themselves and moved their heavy steps toward the inner part of the cave.

Chan-ho stood still in place until their rough footsteps and the randomly swaying lantern light completely disappeared into the far side of the dark tunnel.

“Haaah.”

A long, heavy sigh leaked out of his roughened mouth.

With the back of his hand, he roughly wiped away the dirt and blood splattered on his cheek. The fishy stench pierced the tip of his nose sharply. A terrible sense of humiliation gouged a sharp hole in a corner of his chest, but he silently endured it. It was something he had always experienced, and a bitter daily routine he would have to endure every single day for the time being.

If there was no money deposited into his account, a hunter license was nothing more than a cheap piece of plastic. On the flip side of the brilliant hunters’ world where heroic exploits graced the front page news and immense wealth poured in, there were also guys like him crawling on dirt floors, doggedly holding on like mayflies.

Chan-ho picked up the dagger fallen on the ground again. He wiped the dirt off the blade against his work pants and turned his body toward the next goblin corpse.

There were still over ten corpses left whose hideous bellies had not been cut open yet. He had to hurry up and dig out the mana stones before the advance team finished clearing the boss room in the next area. If he fell behind due to failing to meet the set schedule, he might suffer a pay cut without any excuses.

Slicing.

The sound of the dull blade tearing tough hide rang out again.

“It really is terribly tough.”

Chan-ho muttered, wiping his jaw with a bloodied hand. As he twisted the dagger roughly, a low-grade mana stone holding a murky light fell onto the floor with a thud.