“What if they get suspicious and ask how a non-Awakened knew the monster’s weakness?”
A bead of cold sweat ran down Dana’s spine at the late-blooming worry.
Gulping nervously, she looked Yeon Hyeong-gwang in the eyes, only to find him staring at her as if she were some kind of wonder.
It was pure admiration.
Not a trace of suspicion could be found on his face.
In a way, it was a very Yeon Hyeong-gwang-like reaction.
If it had been Ban Eun-hyeol instead, he definitely would’ve been suspicious.
Dana let out a sigh of relief and responded awkwardly, “Real spiders are usually weak around that area too, you know. Haha.”
Meanwhile, the girlfriend of Galaxy (Eun-ha-su), who had been watching Dana and Yeon Hyeong-gwang’s exchange with great interest, had quietly snuck over to where Yeon Ha-yeon was and crouched behind a rock that looked safe.
Seemed like she was planning to spectate the battle from there.
She seemed utterly engrossed, as if witnessing a live-action fantasy unfolding before her very eyes, every movement of the Yeon siblings cataloged with fervent intensity.
Her phone, no doubt, was ready to capture every dramatic moment, a precious treasure trove for future fan club content.
The air around her practically vibrated with suppressed excitement, a stark contrast to Dana’s lingering anxiety.
With the Yeon siblings clearing out the nearby monsters, the group pressed forward deeper into the cave, searching for the boss monster.
The path ahead was illuminated only by the faint glow of the Yeon siblings’ powers, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to writhe with unseen dangers.
The air grew heavier, thick with the scent of damp earth and something metallic, something distinctly alien that spoke of the monsters they were relentlessly hunting.
Every step echoed with a nervous energy, a silent anticipation of the inevitable confrontation.
At one point, a fork in the path gave Dana a flicker of hope—but what she’d been hoping for didn’t happen.
If only the system font would go back to normal, as if she’d really teleported dimensions—that would’ve been perfect.
The persistent, glowing green text of the system notifications continued to overlay her vision, a constant, irritating reminder of her current predicament.
It was a cruel irony, she thought, to be trapped in a world that felt both familiar and utterly alien, where her very perception was dictated by an unseen force.
She yearned for the mundane, for the simple, unremarkable normalcy of her original life, where glowing text didn’t dictate her every move.
This longing for a return to the ordinary was a constant, low thrum beneath her growing proficiency in this new, dangerous reality.
Who knows how long they walked.
It felt like an eternity, each minute stretching into an hour, each step a deliberate act of will.
The further they delved, the more numerous and aggressive the spiders became, their scuttling forms a constant, unnerving presence in the periphery of their vision.
After fighting off a few more monsters along the way, Yeon Ha-yeon and Yeon Hyeong-gwang’s clothes were now soaked in the blue blood of spiders.
The grotesque stains contrasted sharply with their youthful faces, a grim testament to the brutality of their task.
Just watching made Dana uncomfortable, the sticky, iridescent goo clinging to their fabric like a second skin, and she was starting to think they really needed to find the boss soon.
The thought of them continuing to battle in such a state, their movements potentially hampered by the viscous residue, spurred a fresh wave of urgency within her.
She silently cursed the dungeon’s meandering design, wishing for a direct path to the ultimate threat, a swift end to this messy, bloody ordeal.
Screeeeech—!
A chilling screech came from deeper in the cave, unlike anything they’d heard before.
It scraped at their eardrums like claws down a chalkboard, a primal, guttural sound that resonated deep in their bones.
It was clear the boss monster was over there, its terrifying roar serving as an unmistakable beacon, a challenge echoing through the subterranean darkness.
The air grew heavy, thick with an almost tangible sense of dread and anticipation.
“Let’s go, sis!”
Yeon Ha-yeon and Yeon Hyeong-gwang dashed forward at once, as if responding to a cue.
Their youthful bravado, honed by countless battles, propelled them forward with a fearless intensity.
Seeing them charge ahead, Eun-ha-su’s girlfriend quickly moved to follow, her face alight with an almost manic excitement, entirely forgetting the inherent danger of approaching a monstrous dungeon boss.
She was caught up in the thrill of the moment, a spectator yearning to be closer to the action, her fanatical devotion overriding any sense of self-preservation.
“W-Wait! It’s dangerous, let’s stay back and watch from here.”
Dana immediately grabbed her by the shoulder to stop her, the urgency in her voice barely masking the tremor of her own apprehension.
Even if they followed, they wouldn’t be any help—and there was a terrifying possibility the girl might take out a light stick or phone right in front of the boss monster, a move that could very well spell disaster for all of them.
The thought sent a jolt of ice through Dana’s veins.
Such an act, fueled by pure fan-girl enthusiasm, would not only distract the already beleaguered Yeon siblings but also draw the boss’s immediate, deadly attention to their vulnerable position.
It was a risk she absolutely could not afford.
At Dana’s words, the girl glanced down wistfully at the light stick she was holding, a vibrant, glowing baton that seemed utterly out of place in the grim subterranean setting.
She really was going to wave it around…
The realization hit Dana with the force of a physical blow.
A wave of relief washed over Dana, profound and immediate, proud to have prevented a disaster of truly epic, potentially fatal, proportions.
As the sounds of the siblings’ battle grew louder, a cacophony of roars, impacts, and the distinct thud of their skills, Dana and the girl slowed their steps, maintaining a safe distance from the escalating conflict.
The scene that stopped them was sheer chaos, a maelstrom of violent energy and desperate struggle.
At the end of a narrow cave tunnel, the passageway dramatically opened into a massive cavern—the lair of the boss monster. Inside was a spider of immense size, its multiple eyes gleaming malevolently in the dim light, its massive body a terrifying silhouette against the cavern walls, taking on the Yeon siblings head-on.
Its eight legs scuttled with terrifying speed, its chelicerae clicking menacingly as it launched relentless attacks.
All the effort Dana had put into helping with her voice, guiding Yeon Hyeong-gwang to make the fight easier, was finally paying off.
Her sharp instructions, delivered with a detached precision that belied her inner turmoil, had been instrumental in shaping their strategy.
“Use your poison to melt the spider’s body somehow. I’ll finish it off!”
Yeon Ha-yeon’s voice cut through the din, clear and resolute, as she dodged a sweeping leg attack, her movements fluid and practiced.
“Got it, boss!”
Yeon Hyeong-gwang’s response was immediate and enthusiastic, a testament to his trust in his sister’s commands, even as he unleashed a torrent of venomous energy at the monstrous arachnid, the acidic green spray sizzling against its chitinous hide.
For a first-time team, their coordination was remarkably smooth, almost telepathic.
They practically flew through the air as they fought the boss monster, their movements a blur of practiced grace and brutal efficiency.
Each attack was precise, each evasion perfectly timed, a deadly dance against an overwhelming foe.
Eun-ha-su’s girlfriend, witnessing this display of raw power and synchronized teamwork, looked like her eyes would turn into hearts any second, her breath catching in her throat with every powerful blow landed by the siblings.
“He’s a raw gem…! He’s going to explode in popularity once we get out! I have to be the first to start a fan club!” she practically gushed, her voice a breathless whisper of adoration, completely oblivious to the real and present danger surrounding them.
Her gaze was fixated on Yeon Hyeong-gwang, her face flushed with an almost manic excitement.
She’s completely gone off the deep end…
Dana unconsciously stepped back, a flicker of unease rippling through her at the crazed glint in the girl’s eyes as she looked at Yeon Hyeong-gwang.
The intensity of her devotion was frankly alarming.
Was she also the one who started Yeon Ha-yeon’s fan club?
She really seemed to be an expert at fangirling, a master of celebrity worship, even in the most perilous of circumstances.
The thought was bizarre, almost comical, in the face of the life-or-death struggle unfolding before them.
“Dana!”
The shout, sharp and urgent, ripped through Dana’s momentary distraction.
Too focused on the fangirl’s unnerving intensity, Dana didn’t notice the boss spider crawling toward her, its massive form moving with an unexpected stealth despite its size.
Snapped out of it by Yeon Ha-yeon’s urgent shout, her head snapped up, and she looked up to find a spider leg, thick and barbed, right in front of her, already descending with terrifying speed.
Startled, her body reacted before her mind could fully process the threat.
She reflexively swung her arm, a desperate, instinctive movement, knocking the spider leg away as it came for her.
Her hand throbbed from the impact, a dull ache blooming immediately, a testament to the raw power of the creature.
“Ugh…!”
Even though she only deflected one attack, the sheer force of the blow sent her flying backward with an undignified sprawl, slamming into the unforgiving cave wall with a painful thud.
Now cornered by the massive spider, with no room to escape, Dana’s current level, lacking the honed physical attributes and specialized skills of an Awakened, couldn’t land a solid hit in close combat.
She was at a severe disadvantage, her ordinary human strength negligible against the spider’s monstrous bulk.
But if she didn’t act now, she’d die.
The stark reality of her situation crystallized in her mind, overriding all fear and pain.
So, for survival, she pushed off the wall with a desperate surge of adrenaline and leaped, a wild, uncalculated gamble, driving her hand, still throbbing from the earlier impact, toward the spider’s eye, aiming for the softest, most vulnerable spot she could perceive.
KIEEEEEEK!
A piercing shriek of pain erupted from the spider, echoing through the cavern.
She only managed to hit one of the spider’s eight eyes—and the smallest one at that.
It wasn’t enough to cause fatal damage, merely an annoyance to the colossal beast.
She hadn’t even completely gouged it out, only managed to scratch its surface, inflicting a superficial injury.
Trying to strike another eye didn’t go smoothly.
The spider, enraged by the sudden, minor injury, lashed out with unexpected speed.
Just as her attack landed, its sharp chelicerae, like massive, chitinous pincers, clamped down on her leg with brutal force.
Its pincer-like mouth gripped tightly, showing no sign of letting go, the pressure agonizing and relentless.
“Dana noona!”
A voice, distant and distorted by the spider’s huge body, called out to her, filled with clear alarm.
Hearing it, Dana gasped and searched with strained eyes for the Yeon siblings on the other side, her vision obscured by the monstrous arachnid’s bulk.
But with only her leg caught and her body upside down, twisted in an awkward, painful position, she couldn’t see clearly.
Her heart pounded in her chest, a frantic drum against her ribs.
Did… did they see?
The spider was blocking their view, so it should’ve been hard to see from over there—but worry crept in anyway, a cold tendril of fear that her secret might finally be exposed.
The thought of her identity being revealed, especially in such a vulnerable state, was almost as terrifying as the spider’s grip.
Never mind her identity being exposed, she needed to get her leg out of the spider’s jaws.
The immediate, pressing danger superseded all other concerns.
She tensed her abs, a surge of adrenaline coursing through her, and lifted her upper body in a desperate struggle—and suddenly, miraculously, the pressure on her leg eased.
The spider’s grip slackened, a momentary reprieve that felt like an eternity.
Thud—
“Ah!”
Falling to the ground, Dana thought for a second that if she landed too well, too gracefully, it might raise suspicion, might hint at an unnatural resilience.
So, with a calculated choice, she let herself fall awkwardly, feigning clumsiness.
She slammed her back against the hard cave floor with a painful jolt, wincing as the impact resonated through her spine.
“You were this close to dying! Are you okay?!”
As soon as Yeon Ha-yeon lured the spider away and things were safe, ensuring the immediate threat was neutralized, Eun-ha-su’s girlfriend, her earlier fanaticism replaced by genuine concern, ran over to check on Dana, her voice breathless with alarm.
“You’re hurt!”
Her eyes widened as she noticed the dark, oozing trail on Dana’s leg.
“No, I’m okay,” Dana mumbled, trying to wave off the concern, but the grimace on her face betrayed her words.
While being grabbed by the spider, her leg got scratched by the sharp tip of its pincers.
Fortunately, the wound was shallow, a mere diagonal gash, but blood was slowly welling up along the diagonal gash, dark against her pale skin.
It stung fiercely.
‘Seriously… I can’t believe I got hurt in a place like this.’
The thought was accompanied by a wave of intense irritation.
She could have easily taken down a monster like that without getting hurt! Her inner professional recoiled at the sloppy mistake.
The boss monster, steadily losing strength under the fierce joint attack of the Yeon siblings, caught her bitter, irritated gaze.
Its movements were becoming sluggish, its screeches weaker, a clear sign of its impending defeat.
Thud—
With a loud crash, the massive body toppled over, shaking the very foundations of the cavern.
As soon as the Yeon siblings caught their breath, their battle-hardened faces still grim, they rushed straight toward her, their concern palpable.
“Dan-ah! Are you okay?”
Yeon Ha-yeon’s voice was laced with an unusual tremor, her usual composure replaced by a clear anxiety.
“Noona, are you hurt anywhere?”
Yeon Hyeong-gwang chimed in, his eyes scanning her anxiously for any visible injuries.
But Dan-ah couldn’t immediately reassure them with a “I’m fine.”
Not because of her wound, which was a minor discomfort in the grand scheme of things, but because of what she saw in the status window floating in the air, a glowing green overlay that only she could perceive.
[<Quest>
Kill the Dungeon Boss! Lv.2
10/10
Reward – 1 Existing Skill (Random)]
‘The number… increased?’
A wave of surprise, quickly followed by elation, washed over her.
So even if she didn’t land the final blow, as long as she hit it once, it counted?
It was Yeon Hayeon who delivered the final strike to kill the dungeon’s boss monster, a powerful, decisive blow that ended the creature’s reign.
And yet, the number still went up, indicating that her single, desperate jab at its eye had been enough to register for the quest.
That meant that once the boss monster was attacked by her, it would count regardless of whose attack finished it off.
This was a game-changer.
‘Then they should’ve written it clearly: just one hit is enough as long as it dies afterward! How unfriendly can this status window be?!’
She was briefly annoyed by the vague wording, but her mood soared almost immediately, the frustration quickly replaced by a surge of excitement.
It meant she could clear quests faster and unlock skills sooner, a significant acceleration to her progress.
As long as she landed even one hit, the number would go up, making her quest completion far less dependent on her direct combat prowess or the final kill.
So even if she got caught up in sudden gates with other awakened ones, powerful individuals who would undoubtedly hog the final blows, she could still make quest progress.
With this unexpected discovery, the previously uncertain future suddenly felt a little brighter—making her smile without meaning to, a genuine, unbidden expression of relief and hope.
[Congratulations! You have met the Lv.2 quest conditions. A skill will now be unlocked at random.]
[Unlocking…]
[Skill ‘Black Rain’ has been unlocked.]
While she was smiling, the status window popped up to announce her quest success, its green text illuminating the dim cavern.
Immediately after, one of her usual go-to skills was unlocked, a familiar ability from her past life.
‘Ah… I was hoping for Necromancy.’
She felt a twinge of disappointment, a momentary longing for the powerful summoning abilities that had been her hallmark.
But it couldn’t be helped; the random nature of the unlocks was a known variable.
When she opened her status window to check her skill list, her lips trembled uncontrollably from trying to hold back a smile, a broad, triumphant grin that threatened to betray her carefully constructed facade.
She didn’t want to look like a weirdo grinning in the middle of a dungeon while injured, a completely inappropriate reaction to her current predicament, so she stiffened her face, forcing it into a neutral, slightly pained expression.
***
[Name: Lee Dan-ah
Rank: B+ (S) (Temporarily lowered due to skill lock)
Class: Necromancer
Ranking: 0th (Based on original rank)
Titles: Possessor from Another Dimension, Hooded Hero, Villain Who Will Destroy Earth
Skills: Shackles of Darkness, Shadow Form, Black Rain, [Locked]…
Owned Spirits: Sahin, [Locked], [Locked]…]
Although there had been a period where she made no progress, a frustrating stagnation in her abilities, she now had three usable skills, a significant leap forward.
The quest had now moved on to Lv.3, and the counter had reset to zero—but even that looked satisfying, a fresh slate for new achievements.
“Black Rain,” as the name suggested, was rain that fell from dark clouds.
But it wasn’t just water—it was a corrosive, ethereal downpour that melted monster skin on contact and burrowed inwards, inflicting grievous wounds.
It was a wide-area skill that attacked everything except the caster, which made it incredibly convenient for clearing large groups of enemies.
However, its significant drawback was that it also affected other awakened ones, making it a dangerous tool to use in a party.
Before she became possessed, others would cast shields for themselves, or she would do it for them, a coordinated effort that negated the skill’s friendly-fire aspect.
But she hadn’t unlocked any shield skills yet, making Black Rain a liability in team combat.
‘I guess I’ll only be using this when I’m alone.’
For now, she would keep her awakening under wraps and continue closing gates solo, like she had been.
That would make using her newly acquired skill much easier, eliminating the risk of harming allies or revealing her true nature.
Besides, being alone was more comfortable anyway, a preference rooted in her years of solitary dungeon clearing in her previous life.
The Yeon siblings ran up to her, their faces etched with genuine concern, and anxiously checked her over, their hands hovering, unsure how best to help.
It was a surprise to see them so panicked—she didn’t remember them ever reacting like this before.
The feeling was strange, an unfamiliar warmth blooming in her chest, a stark contrast to the detached interactions she was used to.
Yeon Hayeon furrowed her brows deeply when she saw the scratch on Dan-ah’s leg, her gaze lingering on the slowly oozing blood.
Yeon Hyeong-kwang’s expression hardened just the same when he saw her wound, his youthful face contorting with a flash of protective anger.
Behind them, the eerie glow of the dungeon cave gradually faded, dissolving like a mirage, and the familiar alley near the arcade where they originally stood came back into view, bathed in the mundane light of the city.
The sudden transition was disorienting, a jarring return to normalcy after the adrenaline-fueled chaos.
The first thing she saw was Eunha, who had been pacing anxiously, her face pale with worry, now running toward her girlfriend with a relieved cry, her movements a blur of desperate concern.
Behind her, the Four Heavenly Kings, their imposing figures a stark contrast to the previous scene, turned their heads in Dan-ah’s direction, their expressions unreadable.
And then, her eyes met with Ban Eun-hyeol’s.
His expression was terrifyingly grim, a deep, unsettling frown creasing his brow, his gaze piercing, as if he could see straight through her carefully constructed facade.
A fresh wave of apprehension, colder than the dungeon air, washed over Dana.