Chapter 128

As a man intimately acquainted with the unyielding gravity of magical contracts, Bale Taylor was understandably terrified. Knowing the lethal stakes involved, he was undoubtedly realizing just how deeply psychotic the syndicate they were hunting truly was.

“Two of these men are seasoned, high-ranking guild members,” Bale noted grimly. “They have been part of Glys Roban’s core strike team since the very beginning of his career.”

Shin-hoo carefully scrutinized the dossiers of the two specific A-Rank Hunters Bale had singled out from the roster.

“Hmm…”

Ever since he had entered the EX-Rank dungeon, the timeline had violently fractured. The vast majority of the events unfolding now were completely alien to him; he could no longer rely on the omniscient foresight of his past life.

This is going to be difficult.

In his previous life, wholly ignorant of the true, world-ending consequences of failure, he hadn’t harbored this kind of paralyzing dread. He had arrogantly believed he could accomplish anything, and he had operated with absolute, reckless impunity. But things were different now. He knew exactly what kind of unimaginable tragedy a single failure could spawn.

For the first time in a long while, the suffocating memory of surviving utterly alone in an empty, ruined world resurfaced. Recalling the image of himself standing solitary amidst the rubble of a dead city, his fingertips trembled faintly.

“Do not worry yourself too much,” Haeju murmured, stepping to his side.

Haeju stood close, turning his gaze out the window. They were moving at incredible speed, tearing through the clouds high in the azure sky.

The three men were currently conversing inside a state-of-the-art private jet provided by the United States government. Recognizing the absolute urgency of the situation, the US Association had eagerly offered their fastest transport, allowing the team to rush toward the dungeon where Glys Roban was currently trapped.

“E-Excuse me, may I offer a brief status report?”

The captain of the jet approached them nervously. Because this was a highly classified black-ops mission, both the captain and the co-pilot were registered Hunters. Consequently, the pilots were visibly sweating bullets at the prospect of chauffeuring a party of three S-Rank anomalies—especially one that included Kwon Haeju, the man who had single-handedly traumatized the American Hunter ecosystem.

“The target location is a submerged dungeon located in the Mariana Trench, approximately two hundred miles off the coast of Guam,” the captain briefed. “It is situated at a depth of 1,200 meters, and it is classified as a mega-dungeon, with a gate exceeding fifty meters in diameter.”

“And yet it was only classified as an A-Rank…” Shin-hoo noted skeptically.

“Well, underwater dungeon gates are inherently massive,” Bale explained. “Furthermore, the chromatic signature of the gate didn’t indicate an extreme threat level, so they assigned it an A-Rank. Honestly, if it weren’t for the sleeper agents sabotaging them from the inside, this wouldn’t have been a catastrophic issue.”

“…”

“Well, pointing fingers after the disaster has already occurred is pointless,” Bale sighed, pulling off his sunglasses to continue the briefing.

“We’ll be landing on an aircraft carrier stationed near the dungeon’s perimeter shortly. We’ll gear up there and then initiate the dive. Because the gate is massive and generates a terrifyingly strong suction current, we have to approach it from a considerable distance. Factoring in the descent, it will likely take us three days just to reach the entrance.”

The most agonizing hurdle of an underwater dungeon was simply getting inside. Hunters clad in specialized diving gear had to painstakingly inch their way down while continuously generating and maintaining magical safe zones against the crushing pressure.

“Three entire days just for a one-way trip,” Shin-hoo murmured.

“And that’s assuming we make perfect time.”

“Hmm…”

Factoring in the time they had already lost traveling from Korea, they were looking at over a week spent solely on transit. If it were a standard A-Rank dungeon, a week’s delay wouldn’t be a critical concern, but considering the volatile hostage situation inside, an indefinite delay was unacceptable…

“Well. I usually loathe being such a massive inconvenience to others, but…”

Bale’s perpetually relaxed expression darkened. While he wasn’t exactly weeping, the stark grimness settling over his usually unbothered features was telling.

“Please save Glys Roban.”

He hadn’t shown it, but from the very moment he decrypted the intel regarding the spies, Bale’s insides had been twisting into knots. Regardless of the fact that he had transferred his allegiance, the thought of his former guildmate being actively hunted and threatened was unbearable.

Shin-hoo stared at Bale’s tightly clenched fists.

“Do not misunderstand. We are going there to hunt down the remnants of The Cradle of Genesis. Therefore, this is not a favor you need to beg us for.”

Despite Shin-hoo’s absolution, Bale showed no sign of lifting his bowed head. Shin-hoo understood his humiliation perfectly. He knew exactly how agonizingly shameful it was for a proud Hunter to beg an outside faction for help resolving internal guild affairs.

Shin-hoo rubbed his lips with a bitter smile. Bale Taylor was an S-Rank Hunter. His pride couldn’t be salvaged with cheap lip service or superficial comfort.

“In that case, I would like an advance on my compensation.”

“Just name it. I’ll give you whatever you want,” Bale promised instantly.

“This private jet. If I determine it is necessary, can I have it?”

The aircraft they were currently flying in was a hyper-luxurious jet constructed entirely from ultra-rare Hunter byproducts. While it was smaller and more appropriately scaled for a minimal crew than the monstrous fortress he had flown to Korea in, its actual market value was utterly astronomical.

“Yes.”

Bale nodded without a microsecond of hesitation. At this point, he looked ready to liquidate his entire net worth if it meant securing Shin-hoo’s full cooperation.

“If you want, I can draft the legal transfer contract right now.”

“That won’t be necessary just yet.”

Shin-hoo glanced back at the captain, who was watching the exchange with pale, mounting terror. The total passenger manifest of this aircraft consisted of three S-Rank Hunters—Bale Taylor, Nam Shin-hoo, and Kwon Haeju—and two A-Rank Hunters serving as the pilots.

“We will be flying directly over the dungeon’s coordinates shortly, correct?” Shin-hoo asked the captain.

“Yes, sir. But as Hunter Taylor explained, we need to land on the aircraft carrier first before we can—”

“There’s no need for that.”

Grabbing the trembling captain by the shoulder, Shin-hoo marched straight into the cockpit.

His primary concern was the transit time. A slow, methodical descent into the crushing depths would simply take too long. However, there was a vastly more efficient method available.

Shin-hoo positioned himself in front of the cockpit’s main console. The instrument panels were violently fluctuating, feeding a constant stream of complex telemetry data. Shin-hoo locked his eyes on the thickest, brightest red dot pulsing at the center of the navigation map.

“Is this the exact location of the dungeon gate?”

“Y-Yes, sir! And the blue dot slightly to the left is the designated aircraft carrier…”

That information was entirely irrelevant. Shin-hoo slammed his hand down on the autopilot disengage button located on the side stick.

“H-Hunter Nam?!” the captain shrieked.

“Do you have your Return Stone on you? What about your defensive artifacts?” Shin-hoo demanded.

“Y-Yes, sir! They are mandatory survival gear, so I have them equipped, but why are you…”

“Activate them right now.”

BEEP— BEEP—

Grabbing the central thrust levers, Shin-hoo violently shoved them all the way forward, maxing out the engines. The roar of the turbines became deafening as the entire airframe shuddered violently. Completely ignoring the captain’s horrified screaming, Shin-hoo shoved the side stick all the way forward in a single, brutal motion.

On the Primary Flight Display (PFD), the attitude indicator instantly plunged into a terrifying nosedive. The airspeed numbers skyrocketed exponentially.

“H-HUNTER NAM!”

“I seriously doubt any Hunter on board this aircraft is fragile enough to be killed by a little crash landing!” Shin-hoo shouted over the alarms.

Through the cockpit windshield, the serene blue sky was instantly replaced by the rapidly approaching, pitch-black abyss of the ocean.

It takes too long to descend because the water pressure is too dense? In that case, the solution was simple: attach yourself to the absolute heaviest object available and violently crash through the resistance in a single, devastating plunge.

Accelerating the jet to terminal velocity, Shin-hoo nose-dived directly toward the ocean.

“Hey! This isn’t what I meant when I said you could have the jet! YOU ABSOLUTE LUNATIC!”

Bale Taylor’s hysterical, terrified scream echoed from the cabin as he desperately clung to his seat.

Naturally, Shin-hoo didn’t even pretend to hear him.

***

Crouching on the uneven floor, the man picked up a scattered fragment of coral.

[C-Rank: Carapace of a Deep-Sea Coral]

Another mundane item was added to the massive, useless pile already clogging his inventory. He cast a profoundly envious gaze toward the elite Hunters effortlessly dismantling the dungeon’s defenses in the distance.

The man’s name was Harvey Lane, and astonishingly, he was an A-Rank Hunter. If he possessed any other combat classification, he would be treated with immense respect and wield considerable social influence. But Harvey was different.

His awakened ability was ‘Taming’. He possessed the unique power to synchronize his consciousness with living organisms, allowing him to communicate with or subjugate them. In theory, it was an incredibly rare and highly versatile utility skill, but…

What’s the point if I can’t find a single monster compatible with me? Because the ‘Tamer’ class was theoretically so rare and valuable, he had managed to secure a spot in a top-tier guild. However, despite years of desperate searching, he hadn’t managed to subjugate a single combat-viable familiar.

Since his awakening, the only ‘missions’ he had been assigned were utterly humiliating chores—reading the minds of depressed pet dogs belonging to wealthy socialites, or using low-level, trash-tier monsters to scout narrow crevices.

I really thought this time would be different, he sighed internally.

Harvey was currently deployed inside the abyssal dungeon discovered near Guam. Miraculously, he had been assigned to the guild’s most elite subjugation squad, led by the S-Rank Hunter Glys Roban.

The guild’s logic was simple: since Harvey had exhibited terrible synchronization rates with terrestrial monsters, perhaps the exceptionally rare aquatic variants found in a deep-sea dungeon would finally yield a match.

It had been a completely futile hope. His affinity with marine monsters was somehow even worse. He couldn’t even glean the faintest impression of what these creatures were thinking or feeling; it was like trying to read a brick wall.

Consequently, he had been reduced to crouching in the corner and collecting literal seashells while the adults worked.

Story of my life, Harvey thought bitterly.

Sighing heavily, he flipped over another large shell. Just like when he had picked up the coral, a system window popped up announcing his successful acquisition of the item.

The only microscopic comfort he had was the knowledge that deep-sea dungeons were exceedingly rare, meaning the mundane materials he was gathering were technically highly valuable on the market. To think that his absolute lowest-leveled, most pathetic ‘Gathering’ skill would be the only useful thing he brought to an A-Rank raid.

“Hey!”

A Hunter who had just finished slaughtering a wave of monsters barked at him from a distance. The man was a textbook combat Hunter, sporting ridiculously bulging muscles and wielding a massive, brutally heavy weapon.

“Hurry up and grab the trash so we can move forward! You tagged along all this way, so you’d better at least earn your keep!”

“Y-Yes, sir! I’m coming!”

“And don’t even think about pocketing any of the drops for yourself! I’ll be taking your share as payment for protecting your useless ass, you pathetic Dog Walker.”

Utterly incapable of offering a single word of rebellion against the humiliating ‘Dog Walker’ moniker, Harvey frantically scrambled to his feet and hurried after them.