Chapter 96

‘Why? Why is the entrance gone?’

The deafening roar of the cascading waterfall and the irritating, buzzing voices of mayflies were the only sounds saturating the space.

‘Ah, it’s because this is a dream. Because it’s a dream, I can’t feel anything. No fear, no pain.’

Did Nam Shin-hoo suffer from nightmares like this every single day? Is that why he always writhed in such agonizing torment? How utterly pitiful…

That was exactly why Haeju needed to remain firmly by Shin-hoo’s side. He was the only one capable of protecting and soothing him.

Freezing water lapped at Kwon Haeju’s boots. The dungeon entrance had definitively been anchored right here in this water. Even if he couldn’t physically sense its presence, the exact spatial coordinates were burned into his memory. If he just kept walking forward, he would eventually reach Nam Shin-hoo.

The icy river quickly swallowed his waist. Just as the water surged past his chest and began lapping at his throat, a sharp voice cut through his delusion.

“Ah, you are truly aggravating…!”

Someone violently yanked Haeju backward. Seizing him by the scruff of the neck, the man hurled his body effortlessly onto the dry riverbank.

“Hunter Nam Shin-hoo dying is already a massive diplomatic headache,” Glys Roban snapped, brushing off his tailored suit. “If you die too, cleaning up the mess will be an absolute nightmare.”

“…”

“So snap out of it and—”

“He isn’t dead.”

Sprawled in the mud, Haeju slowly rose to his feet like a reanimated corpse, completely ignoring the dripping water and filth caking his clothes.

“Nam Shin-hoo is not dead. Absolutely not.”

“Ah, is that so?” Roban mocked smoothly. “But what can you do? The dungeon entrance has already vanished, meaning he cannot exit, and you cannot enter. If he isn’t dead yet, he certainly will be soon.”

“…The entrance disappeared?”

“I thought it was only your eyes that were ruined,” the American scoffed, “but it seems your mind has completely shattered as well.”

Haeju simply couldn’t comprehend what this buzzing mayfly was babbling about. The man had been a grating nuisance from the start. Suggesting they leave for somewhere else, declaring Nam Shin-hoo dead—he kept repeating the exact phrases Haeju most despised hearing.

Tightening his grip, Haeju summoned Jinmu. I should exterminate the annoyance immediately. He needed to return to Nam Shin-hoo as quickly as possible. His person might be suffering all alone in the dark.

“Oho. Let the record show you initiated this,” Roban declared, a vicious smirk curling his lips.

He materialized his Unique Weapon—a grand, ornate staff—and hoisted it high above his head. The pristine sky instantly darkened. Ominous, rolling storm clouds suffocated the airspace above them, crackling violently as brilliant arcs of azure lightning danced through the gray expanse.

Roban subtly surveyed the Association personnel and civilian spectators gathered behind him.

‘This actually works out perfectly.’

That this insufferable eyesore had thrown the first punch was something he welcomed with open arms. It was a pristine opportunity to publicly showcase his overwhelming majesty by instantly subjugating this arrogant Korean upstart.

Channeling his deeply festering resentment toward the boy who had the sheer audacity to shatter his personal dungeon clear record, Roban slashed the mana-saturated staff downward.

The apocalyptic lightning condensed within the storm clouds struck the roaring waterfall with merciless prejudice. Boulders disintegrated under the direct impact as massive surges of electricity violently blanketed the expansive river. Hundreds of aquatic species living beneath the surface were instantly boiled alive, their charred bodies floating to the top.

A titan capable of unleashing natural disasters through sheer human will. The hunter closest to godhood. The great Glys Roban. His lips stretched into a euphoric, terrifyingly wide smile.

“It is far too late for regrets,” Roban proclaimed grandly. “I won’t kill you, but you shall spend a considerable amount of time reflecting while feeling the current boiling in your blood—huh?”

Roban’s vision abruptly plunged into pitch black. Before he could even process the silhouetted figure that had eclipsed his sight, his entire world exploded into blinding crimson.

“Urgh…!”

Agonizing, catastrophic pain violently seized him. What just happened? What is going on? Before his arrogant brain could even formulate the questions, a devastating follow-up strike slammed him brutally into the dirt.

Writhing helplessly on the ground, Roban instinctively clutched at the epicenter of his agony. A geyser of hot blood violently sprayed through his fingers.

“My… my arm! My arm…!”

“Lord Roban!”

Lying severed in the distant mud was a left arm draped in incredibly familiar tailored fabric. The exact millisecond Roban reached out with his surviving hand to retrieve it, Haeju ruthlessly closed the distance again.

Roban’s abdomen was butchered before he could even draw the breath to scream. As the American Guild Master thrashed wildly with a massive chunk of his flank carved away, a whip suddenly shot out from the perimeter, violently snatching his body out of the execution zone.

“Hah, hah…”

“I fucking warned you, didn’t I? I told you he was a monster!”

It was Bale Taylor. Tossing the mangled Roban into a relatively secure zone, Bale whipped around, raising both hands in a placating, highly agitated gesture toward Haeju.

“Hey. You recognize me, right? Why don’t we all just calm down for a second? If there’s something you want, I’ll make it happen within my power. How does that sound?”

“…”

Haeju’s silver-gray irises gleamed with a feral, murderous light.

He recognized that grating voice perfectly. The deeply unpleasant, slimy aura radiating from the man was unmistakable. It was the architect of the contract that had dragged them to the United States. The miserable catalyst that had tricked a foolish, pathetic Kwon Haeju into pushing Nam Shin-hoo straight into a death trap.

And the arrogant bastard who had dared to flirt with his person without knowing his place.

‘Yes… I’ll just eradicate them all.’

This entire apocalyptic catastrophe was exclusively Haeju’s fault. Therefore, it was Haeju’s absolute responsibility to systematically butcher every single organism connected to it.

Nam Shin-hoo had always been surrounded by enemies. Haeju had only realized it far too late after learning pieces of his past. The world was utterly infested with parasites desperate to torment his person. So, I will just wipe the slate clean right now. Bale Taylor. The United States. Cheon Gu-hoon. Every single one of them.

The ring constricting his finger burned fiercely. Haeju had been relentlessly triggering the set item’s spatial transmission ability—the function designed to lock onto his partner’s coordinates and teleport him to their side—over and over again.

[Cannot teleport to the target.]

[Cannot teleport to the target.]

[Cannot teleport to the target.]

The incessant, mocking system alerts hammered into Haeju’s skull, fueling a blinding migraine. Mirroring its master’s violently fracturing psyche, Jinmu’s form shuddered erratically.

‘I’m so tired… I just want to end it all.’

The violently oscillating, iridescent light steadily coalesced into its next horrific evolution. A colossal greatsword exceeding two meters in length. A massive, apocalyptic blade capable of leveling an entire forest in a single swing gleamed lethally in Haeju’s grip.

“Fuck. I really don’t think words are gonna work on that thing,” Bale cursed, stepping back.

“I… I lost?” Roban stammered, still trapped in a state of catastrophic shock. “Me… It is impossible that I couldn’t even track the attack…”

“Snap out of it, you fucking idiot!” Bale roared.

Brutally kicking the catatonic Glys Roban, Bale spun around and screamed at the terrified Association personnel hovering in the rear.

“Contact the Association right fucking now! Mobilize every single hunter capable of combat! I don’t care about guilds or factions, mobilize everyone!”

“Y-yes, sir!”

“Drag the bastards currently raiding dungeons out by their necks and draft them too! If you don’t…” Bale swallowed thickly.

Advancing toward them was Kwon Haeju, radiating an impossibly sinister, apocalyptic aura. His slow, deliberate footsteps were as pitch-black and desolate as a reaper marching from the abyss.

“…The map of the United States is going to be permanently redrawn today.”

***

It was warm. The cozy sensation enveloping his body felt strangely, achingly nostalgic.

Nam Shin-hoo blinked his eyes open.

‘Where is…’ Radiant azure butterflies fluttered lazily, trailing sparkling trails of golden dust. A vibrant tapestry of fragrant blossoms and lush green grass painted the sprawling landscape, while beautifully sculpted rock formations jutted majestically toward the open horizon.

‘…’ It was a profoundly familiar panorama. It was a perfect, flawless replica of the breathtaking paradise Shin-hoo had witnessed upon first breaching the EX-Rank dungeon.

Had he regressed through time once again?

Shin-hoo slowly lowered his gaze to examine his hands. But that wasn’t the case. His hands lacked physical substance, rendered entirely translucent as the vibrant scenery bled straight through them. He was a phantom.

Furthermore, he was currently suspended in mid-air, gazing down at the biome that mirrored the dungeon’s entrance.

His final memory before the void had been pressing a prompt on a system window.

[The cooldown for the achievement title ‘Master of the Sand Throne’ has expired. -> Transports you to the location you need most (Cooldown: 100 Days).]

In his absolute final moments, the cooldown for the miraculous title effect he had acquired long ago had perfectly elapsed. It was the title he had earned after conquering the desert dungeon to save the Sand Cactus. Because it was classified as a Title Ability rather than a standard skill, it completely bypassed the systemic lockdown that had sealed his inventory and magic.

[Do you wish to activate the title effect now? Y/N]

Trapped in the collapsing apocalypse, Shin-hoo had reached out and selected ‘Yes’ without a microsecond of hesitation. He had no idea where the spatial displacement would hurl him, but he was willing to accept absolutely anywhere as long as it wasn’t being chewed up by the end of the world.

The core function of the ‘Master of the Sand Throne’ title was to teleport the caster to the coordinates they inherently needed the most. He had faintly hoped, if the universe possessed any mercy, he might materialize right beside the devastated Kwon Haeju. So why had the system dumped him here?

He couldn’t fathom why this specific location was where Nam Shin-hoo needed to be. Honestly, he wasn’t even entirely certain if he was actually dead or alive at this point.

“…So, what are you going to do?”

A voice echoed from a shaded alcove in the darkness. It wasn’t far. Floating silently, Shin-hoo drifted toward the source of the conversation.

“Because the strongest among us is acting so indecisive, the others can’t make a damn decision either!”

The man loudly protesting wore a massive, ornate golden crown that completely obscured the upper half of his face. Beneath it, his attire was heavily layered with pristine white fabric and metallic gold adornments. Every time the grand cape draped across his back fluttered, it shed fine trails of sand that glittered like gold leaf.

It was an incredibly familiar silhouette. Furthermore, it wasn’t human; it was a monster. It was the dormant entity that had slept in the sarcophagus of the Sand Temple—the exact boss monster that had bestowed this very title upon Shin-hoo.

Seated opposite him, a man with long, cascading black hair offered a calm reply.

“I think I need to deliberate on this a little while longer.”

“If you end up evacuating to somewhere else, at least lift this repulsive curse before you leave!” the crowned man yelled. “Do you have any idea how horrifying it is to be randomly teleported to god-knows-where every 100 days?!”

“You shouldn’t have lost the bet, then,” the long-haired man replied mildly.

“Argh, fuck, you always have an answer for everything…” Stomping his foot like a petulant child, the boss of the Sand Dungeon threw a massive tantrum. Hurling a few more irritated complaints at the frustratingly serene man, he aggressively spun around.

“I’ve made my decision. I’m just going to leave,” the crowned entity declared. “I admit I’m quite fond of this planet, but it’s not worth putting my life on the line in a war.”

“All the other lifeforms remaining here will perish, you know,” the long-haired man pointed out. “You have quite a few devoted followers on the surface.”

“Is that my problem?” the crowned man scoffed coldly. “Why should I bother looking after insignificant bugs that are going to die soon anyway?”

Shedding golden sand with every movement, the crowned man marched briskly into the distance.

Left entirely alone, the long-haired man casually lay back in the fragrant flower bed, his dark hair sprawling like ink across the earth.

GLOSSARY

Character Names

Korean Name

Hanja

Romanization

English

Gender

Gender Justification

Role

Name Meaning

Cultural/Narrative Significance

권해주

N/A

Kwon Haeju

Kwon Haeju

Male

Addressed with male pronouns; physically dominating and aggressive.

Epic Guild Master

N/A

His apocalyptic grief over Shin-hoo pushes him to wage a one-man war against the United States, cementing his god-like power.

남신후

N/A

Nam Shin-hoo

Nam Shin-hoo

Male

Contextually male protagonist.

Protagonist

N/A

Escapes the dungeon collapse via a forgotten title effect, materializing as a phantom observer to a crucial past event.

글라이스 로반

N/A

Glys Roban

Glys Roban

Male

Described with male pronouns.

US Rank 1 Hunter

N/A

His arrogant posturing is violently shattered when Haeju effortlessly severs his arm and carves out his flank.

베일 테일러

N/A

Bale Taylor

Bale Taylor

Male

Described with male pronouns.

American Hunter

N/A

Recognizes the apocalyptic threat Haeju poses and initiates emergency national mobilization to prevent the destruction of the US.

Entities

Korean Name

Hanja

Romanization

English

Type

Description

모래 던전의 보스

N/A

Morae Deonjeon-ui Boseu

Boss of the Sand Dungeon

Monster

The crowned entity from the Sand Temple who bestowed the ‘Master of the Sand Throne’ title on Shin-hoo.

긴 장발의 남자

N/A

Gin Jangbal-ui Namja

Long-haired man

Monster/Entity

Contextually implied to be Nuckelavee before its corruption; debating whether to flee the planet or fight the impending apocalypse.

Items & Objects

Korean Name

Hanja

Romanization

English

Category

Description

진무

N/A

Jinmu

Jinmu

Weapon

Haeju’s Unique Weapon, evolving into a colossal, 2-meter greatsword in response to his murderous intent.

Skills & Titles

Korean Name

Hanja

Romanization

English

Type

Description

모래 왕좌의 주인

N/A

Morae Wangjwa-ui Ju-in

Master of the Sand Throne

Title

Teleports the user to where they are needed most every 100 days; originated as a curse placed on the Sand Boss after losing a bet.

Places & Locations

Korean Name

Hanja

Romanization

English

Type

Region

EX급 던전

N/A

EX-geup Deonjeon

EX-Rank Dungeon

Dungeon

The apocalyptic anomaly that vanished; its first floor is mirrored in Shin-hoo’s phantom vision.

미국

N/A

Miguk

United States

Nation

Faces utter annihilation by an enraged Kwon Haeju.

Narrative Intelligence: Clues & Red Herrings

Category

Element

Ch.Pg

Type

Function

Translation Note

Status

Action/Event

The Title’s Origin

Ch.96

Clue

The teleportation title is revealed to have originally been a curse placed on the Sand Boss by the long-haired man (Nuckelavee) after a bet.

Preserved the comedic timing of the lore drop regarding the 100-day curse.

Active

Plot

The Monsters’ Debate

Ch.96

Clue

The two monstrous entities are discussing an impending cosmic war/apocalypse and deciding whether to abandon Earth, shedding light on the true nature of dungeons and monsters.

Translated their dialogue to sound casual yet incredibly weighty regarding human extinction.

Active

Action/Event

Haeju’s Rampage

Ch.96

Clue

Haeju effortlessly mutilating America’s #1 hunter proves his suppressed power was completely off the charts; his grief overrides any political restraint.

Translated with brutal verbs (“butchered,” “mutilating”) to emphasize the slaughter.

Active