We didn’t walk through a portal, but it sure felt like stepping through a barrier of pure evil when we entered the Everland Dungeon. The presence of darkness was undeniable. This was where our ordinary world collided with a twisted realm where the laws of physics no longer held sway. All my life, I had believed that reality was just that: plain, ordinary, and completely devoid of magic. Spells, enchantments, supernatural forces? They belonged in childhood fantasies. Adults only believed in what they could see. That cold, hard truth had always felt suffocating. But now? Every so-called genius out there had been proven dead wrong.

  Inside a dungeon, anything was possible.

  This place was drenched in dark magic. And somewhere, deep within the final boss chamber, lurked the Abyss. The entire zone had been placed under quarantine ever since an Abyssal Horror corrupted the park, an interdimensional being known as Nihilith the Puppeteer. What had once been a place of joy had turned into its twisted reflection: sorrow. Where laughter once rang, only death remained. And not in some poetic sense... literally.

  Nobody had even made it to Nihilith. The thing had to be at full strength, feeding on the life force of the trapped park visitors, growing stronger by the day. Its dark threads had twisted the park’s attractions into nightmarish horrors. Would today be the day it all ended? Or was I, Takuya Nakaruma, about to take my final breaths?

  The thought sent a chill crawling up my spine.

  Having a Paladin with us on my first-ever dungeon run... That was my saving grace. Our saving grace.

  It was winter, and the evening sun had begun to set behind the forest. Darkness crept in, but there was still enough daylight to see the park with our own eyes. A sharp wind howled across the abandoned plaza.

  Well… not entirely abandoned.

  Right in front of us stood an old barrel organ, playing a warped, off-key version of carnival music. The handle spun on its own, as if moved by an invisible hand. And for once, calling it ghostly wasn’t just a tired metaphor. Ever since the Abysses began appearing all over the world, creatures from the underworld (and worse) had started slipping into our realm. So, yeah, a ghost operating a creepy old music box? Not even that far-fetched.

  "Uh, Sin-Joo?" I said, glancing at my friend beside me.

  "What?"

  I pointed upward. A glowing cross had materialized above his head. Just... floating there.

  "Uh… You’ve got a cross above your head."

  Sin-Joo immediately patted his hair, waving his hands wildly over his head, but his fingers passed through the symbol as if it weren’t even there.

  "That’s an otherworldly mark," Ryn Valen muttered through clenched teeth. His jaw was so tight with tension it barely moved when he spoke.

  I pulled out my phone and opened the Dungeon Now app, scrolling through the Everland Dungeon entries. Nothing. No records of a player being marked with a symbol like this. Not from any of the four groups before us.

  So I logged a new entry:

  At the start of the dungeon, one player is marked with a symbol that does not resemble any known worldly sign. Meaning: unknown

  It wasn’t much, but it was my small contribution to the monster hunter community.

  "Until we figure out what this means, we need to keep an eye on him," Ryn Valen said.

  Keep an eye on him. That didn’t sound very friendly. That sounded like… suspicion. Like we should distrust Sin-Joo. But he was one of us. No, he was my only friend.

  "It’s fine," I said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "You okay? How do you feel?"

  "I don’t feel anything." His voice was hollow. "Not a damn thing."

  Beyond the parking lot, we passed a deserted ticket booth, once used by the park staff. The small building was now rotting away, its metal shutters pulled down. In front of it, toppled stands lay scattered, plush toys still hanging from their racks—except now, there was nothing cute about them. Even the stuffed animals seemed to radiate a dark aura. Shattered souvenirs littered the ground, and a long-abandoned cotton candy stand stood in eerie silence. I eyed the gingerbread hearts hanging from a rack. Instead of cheerful messages, their frosting spelled out: No one loves you. Rot in hell. Loneliness, Sickness, Death... the twisted counterpart to Live, Laugh, Love.

  "Do you hear that?" Ryn Valen suddenly asked.

  "You mean the creepy-ass music?"

  "No. A voice. A whisper."

  I let go of one of the corrupted gingerbread hearts, its hateful message still lingering in my mind, and strained my ears, trying to pick up anything human beyond the eerie organ music. The longer those sinister notes played, the more they pulled me into a vortex of madness. Maybe Ryn Valen was experiencing the same... maybe there was no voice at all.

  But then I heard it.

  A woman’s voice. Coming from inside the ticket booth. A whimper. I ran without hesitation, gripping the handle and rattling it. Unlocked.

  "Are you insane?!" the Paladin snapped as I pulled my old hunting knife from my backpack. "We have no idea what’s inside!"

  Too late.

  I pushed the door open...

  ...and red eyes flashed in the dark.

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  A sharp chattering sound.

  A stench like rotting cheese.

  "WATCH OUT!" Ryn Valen shouted.

  A creature lunged from the shadows. The impact knocked the knife from my grasp. Clawed fingers tore at my clothes.

  A goblin.

  A goddamn goblin.

  I hit the ground hard, my scream caught in my throat as the creature pinned me down. It was small but fast, a writhing, shrieking thing with jagged teeth and a long, slobbering tongue lolling from its maw. Goblins didn’t just attack their prey... they butchered them, clawing through flesh and ripping out guts while their victims were still alive.

  I didn’t feel pain. Only raw, primal terror.

  The goblin’s claws had already buried themselves in my shoulder.

  And then, with a single swipe, it slashed across my face.

  I screamed.

  Everything happened in a blur.

  Half my face is sliced apart.

  God, I don't wanna die!

  Was my prayer heard?

  Because, in the next instant, the goblin’s head was gone.

  One clean swing.

  Ryn Valen stood over me, sword in hand, his stance unwavering.

  I didn’t even have time to thank him. As I shoved the goblin’s lifeless body off me (its bristly fur cutting into my fingers) Ryn was already fending off three more creatures pouring out of the ticket booth.

  One leaped at him.

  Its dagger slammed against his plated forearm. Before it even hit the ground, he drove his sword through its gut, skewering it so deep the blade sank into the asphalt beneath. With a single pull, he tore his sword free and in one fluid motion cleaved the next goblin clean in half.

  To him, it wasn’t even a challenge.

  The last goblin crashed down beside me, shrieking in agony. Dark blood gushed from the gaping wound in its side, a single, merciless strike had gutted it. Its soulless eyes locked onto mine, its twisted face frozen in a final, hateful glare. Then the fire in its soulless eyes faded.

  My heart pounded, my pulse roaring in my ears. Warm blood streamed down my skin, soaking into my already blood-drenched hoodie. And that was when the pain hit.

  "You reckless idiot," Ryn Valen muttered, stepping past me, hand outstretched, healing me with a flicker of golden light.

  I barely felt the warmth of his magic.

  "At least try to survive until the final boss."

  Without another word, he entered the booth, likely checking for more threats.

  I dug into my backpack for my flashlight and followed. The others remained outside, standing guard.

  Inside, the place was a disaster. Drawers had been torn from their cabinets. Scattered papers littered the floor. But no body.

  Then... we heard it again.

  The weak, trembling whimper.

  My flashlight trembled in my grip as I swept the beam across the room.

  And then I saw her.

  Huddled in the farthest corner.

  I stopped breathing.

  The blonde woman who, just a week ago, had been welcoming guests with a smile. Back when her world was still intact. Now, she was nothing more than a broken wreck. She sat crumpled on the floor, barely conscious. The goblins had torn her panties down to her knees, the fabric stretched tight between her parted thighs. White knee-high socks clung to her trembling legs. Her blouse... shredded. Buttons scattered across the floor. Even her bra straps had been ripped down. A loose strand of pale blonde hair fell across her face, her exposed skin ghostly pale in the dim light.

  What had those monsters done to her?

  Had we arrived in time, before…

  I couldn’t even finish the thought.

  Cold sweat ran down my back as my gaze flickered between her ruined clothes and her bruised, battered face. That weak, pitiful whimper.

  It wasn’t just the cruelty.

  Not just the helplessness.

  It was the painful, gut-wrenching understanding of how utterly vulnerable she was. A fragile, broken beauty, defiled by monstrous hands.

  I clenched my teeth, shoved past Ryn Valen, and stepped forward.

  The air reeked of fear and blood.

  Carefully, I knelt beside her, hesitating before draping my jacket over her trembling body, making sure to cover as much of her as possible.

  She didn’t react. Her vacant blue eyes stared into nothingness, unseeing, uncomprehending.

  "It’s okay," I murmured, forcing a small, hollow smile. "You’re safe now."

  But that was a lie.

  She wasn’t safe.

  And I knew it.

  I gently shook her shoulder, searching for any kind of response. But all she did was let out a faint whimper, curling further into herself. It was like her body was just a shell, the light in her eyes extinguished by the horrors she had endured. The way she had been lying before... so exposed, so wrong... it had stripped her of what little dignity she had left.

  That’s when I noticed, there was no blood on her thighs.

  A wave of relief washed over me.

  Maybe we had made it in time.

  In time? I clenched my jaw. Look at her, you idiot. She’s broken.

  The Paladin stood at the far end of the room, scanning the area with sharp, calculating eyes. The crystal-adorned hilt of his sword rested in his hand, its tip barely touching the ground. Every muscle in his body was taut, ready to strike down anything lurking in the shadows.

  There was no empathy on his face.

  Only calculation.

  "We need to get her out of here," I said, my voice unsteady.

  "Forget it," he said coldly. "Goblins never travel alone. These three were just the beginning."

  My throat went dry. "What does that mean?"

  "They’re out there." His voice was calm, but each word hit like a hammer. "I can feel them. In the trees. Watching. Waiting. If we don’t move now, you die. My mission is to get you to the final boss. Nothing more, nothing less."

  I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. "She’s helpless! We can’t just leave her!"

  Ryn’s icy gaze locked onto mine. "This isn’t a game. There’s no room for feelings here. Once we clear the dungeon, the military will come to retrieve the survivors. Until then..." He pointed at the woman on the ground. "Her only job is to survive."

  And with that, he turned and walked out.

  Sword ready.

  Steps firm.

  Unshaken.

  I wanted to shout at him. Wanted to fight him. But the words died in my throat. I looked down at the woman curled before me. My hands clenched into fists. A crushing helplessness burned in my chest. Outside, the eerie organ music was being swallowed by the sickening, chittering sounds of goblins. I thought I could already see them, their glowing, demonic eyes glinting in the distant dark.

  They wouldn’t attack him.

  But they’d rip me apart.

  I was alone with her now.

  What was I supposed to do?

  Ryn Valen signaled the others to follow, and without hesitation, they moved out. And just like that, they left me behind.

  This was the Paladin that people praised in the news? The one idolized by thousands of monster hunters?

  Was this dungeon changing him?

  Or was this the first time he was showing his true face?

  But more than that...

  ...What the hell am I supposed to do?

  The checkpoint where Sin-Joo and I had shown our papers earlier was half a mile away. I was too weak. Carrying her there would take too long. And the goblins...

  They were coming.

  I could feel them now, too.

  Then I saw them.

  Darting through the darkness, slipping from an abandoned restaurant to the shattered remains of the wild animal enclosure.

  They were closing in fast.

  And if Ryn Valen kept moving away, they’d turn on me.

  I had to make a decision.

  Now.

  I took a deep breath.

  There was no question. If I tried to carry her to the entrance, we’d both die. And she...

  "I’m sorry," I whispered, standing up.

  But I didn’t leave just yet.

  I tore through the room, ripping drawers open, sending papers flying. There. A small metal box mounted on the wall. I wrenched it open. Inside—the keys.

  That was all I could do for her.

  "We’ll clear this dungeon in time, I promise. Just hold on... I’ll come back for you" I closed the door behind me and locked it, praying the goblins wouldn’t find her. Then I grabbed my knife and stepped out into the night, leaving my jacket behind. A weak, meaningless token of comfort she might never even feel.

  Nihilith had twisted this place beyond recognition.

  A park meant for joy and laughter, now a nightmare, rotting in the grip of something far worse than death.