Why did the wait for the reward feel so long?
It almost felt like the status window was deliberately toying with me, savoring my anticipation before finally revealing its bounty.
The seconds stretched into an eternity, each tick a tantalizing delay.
My heart pounded with a mixture of impatience and bubbling excitement.
Then, the status window with the reward appeared before my eyes, a shimmering display of pure satisfaction.
The spirit I truly needed was given as a reward!
I almost screamed with joy right then and there, a primal, unadulterated cry of triumph.
Bishap was a boss monster, a formidable dragon, that I had caught in a B-rank gate previously.
To have it as a spirit, a loyal companion, was beyond my wildest dreams.
Now, instead of having to move by shadow-forming, a useful but somewhat limited skill, I could fly around on Bishap to find gates with unparalleled speed and even use Bishap to attack monsters, turning the tables on my foes.
Since no one knew about this personal quest, this hidden mechanic of my transmigration, I tried my best not to show how happy I was, maintaining a facade of calm.
Perhaps because I’d been living as an actress for a short while, adapting to this new life and its demands, managing my expressions wasn’t as hard as I thought.
The subtle art of masking my true emotions had become second nature.
Anyway, the more I closed gates, the more I realized that, unlike before my transmigration, the gates here were quite easy to clear.
While it was convenient and nice for me, offering a relatively low-stress way to gain power and resources, I sometimes questioned the difficulty level.
It felt almost too simple at times, as if the world itself was holding back.
Just today, clearing the boss ended up being surprisingly easy, almost disappointingly so for someone with my previous experience.
Well, high-rank gates haven’t appeared much yet.
That was the most logical explanation.
The true challenges, the ones that would push me to my limits, were likely still to come.
I shrugged it off, a casual dismissal of the fleeting thought, and turned my head to the side.
Ban Eun-hye was exchanging words with Hwan, their voices a low murmur.
From what I overheard, he seemed to be explaining the circumstances of how he ended up in the dungeon, a rather awkward conversation given the unusual nature of his impromptu entry.
It was certain that the murderer had died inside the dungeon.
That’s because dead people disappear with the gate when it closes, their bodies disintegrating along with the collapsing dimensional rift.
It was a clean, if gruesome, end.
The only ones who returned outside when the gate closed were me, Ban Eun-hye, and Hwan, the three survivors of a chaotic encounter.
“I heard the details from the Four Heavenly Kings Guild Master. Please attend the Dungeon Management Bureau once later.”
Hwan spoke in a stern yet subtly gentle tone, his voice carrying the weight of authority but laced with a hint of understanding.
He then got into his car, a sleek, official vehicle, and returned to the Dungeon Management Bureau, leaving us alone in the deserted alley.
When it was just Ban Eun-hye and me left, an awkwardness settled in belatedly, a quiet tension that had been overshadowed by the preceding drama.
“Let’s go. I’ll take you home.”
Ban Eun-hye, who had uttered something unbelievable, a surprising offer given our often-strained interactions, started walking forward aimlessly, not even knowing where my house was.
He seemed to be operating on instinct, or perhaps just trying to fill the silence.
I firmly pulled on the hem of his shirt, which I had draped over my shoulder earlier, a soft, familiar weight.
Then I lightly grabbed his short-sleeved T-shirt, a gentle tug. Ban Eun-hye, who had stopped when I tugged his clothes, turned his head and looked down at me, a question in his eyes.
“My house isn’t that way.”
I stated simply, pointing in the correct direction.
“Oh.”
He paused, a faint flush rising on his cheeks, before turning to follow my lead.
We walked in the opposite direction, neither fast nor slow, the comfortable silence of shared experience replacing the earlier awkwardness.
After that incident, my house was turned upside down.
The news of my close call had spread like wildfire.
It was because my parents had heard the incredible story of how I had almost been caught and killed by a heinous murderer but dramatically returned alive.
I don’t know how Hwan explained that day’s events, whether he embellished or simply stated the facts, but my parents hugged me and sobbed loudly, their relief overwhelming.
I hadn’t seen my parents like this in Dana’s memories, their usual bickering and distant interactions replaced by raw, unadulterated emotion, so it felt a bit unfamiliar.
I awkwardly patted their backs and emphasized several times that everything was fine, trying to soothe their anxieties.
From that day on, the atmosphere at home changed significantly.
It felt like my parents, who used to argue in front of me and use me as a go-between, burdening me with their marital woes, had been reformed.
Perhaps it was because their only daughter had come back from the brink of death, a stark reminder of life’s fragility, but my parents’ demeanor subtly softened.
The tension that usually permeated their interactions seemed to dissipate.
It was surprisingly different from before, when they used to talk with so much tension, each word a potential spark for an argument.
A sense of quiet appreciation for life, and for each other, seemed to settle over them.
It wasn’t just my parents who had a huge commotion.
The ripple effect of the incident extended far beyond my immediate family.
“Danaaa, sniff, I’m so glad you’re safe, and, alive, and….”
Han Ji-bin’s loud sobbing drew the attention of everyone in the cafe, her distress echoing through the usually quiet establishment.
I blankly sipped my smoothie, a small island of calm amidst the storm of her emotions.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m perfectly fine!”
I reassured her, trying to stem the flow of tears.
For a few days after that incident, I was stuck at home, told to rest completely, and the Dungeon Management Bureau insisted on my full recovery.
Tomorrow I could finally go to school, back to the mundane routine of classes, but I had gone out for a short walk and coincidentally ran into Han Ji-bin and Ji Kang-han.
Han Ji-bin, who ran to me as soon as she saw me and clasped my hands tightly, was busy inspecting my body all over, her eyes wide with concern.
Her gaze, checking for any injuries, finally dropped, and soon her eyes welled up with tears, unable to contain her relief.
I had just managed to calm her down from crying loudly on the street and brought her into the cafe, and now she was bursting into tears again, a testament to her genuine worry.
We had only gotten a little closer in the Hunter Association lounge, and then a little more because our seats in the classroom were close.
I never expected her to worry so much and shed so many tears and snot. Ji Kang-han next to her was sitting calmly, a stark contrast to Han Ji-bin’s emotional outburst.
They really were two extremes.
He already seemed to know exactly what had happened that day, as Ban Eun-hye had already told him, a detailed account of the events.
I repeated that I was fine several times and quickly changed the subject, steering the conversation away from my near-death experience.
“So, are you coming to school starting tomorrow?”
“Yeah. With the weekend, it feels like I haven’t been able to go out for a really long time.”
She sniffled, still recovering.
“I missed you so much.”
I didn’t think our relationship was that close, certainly not to warrant such heartfelt declarations of affection.
But still, the fact that she worried and even cried for me was a little touching, a small warmth spreading in my chest.
“Are you not traumatized?”
Just then, Ji Kang-han, who had been watching Han Ji-bin cry and me comforting her, spoke up.
It was the first thing he said after sitting silently, patiently patting the sobbing Han Ji-bin’s back.
A hint of cautiousness could be felt in his question, a genuine concern hidden beneath his calm exterior.
“Trauma? Not really. My body and mind are perfectly fine.”
I answered truthfully.
After all, I had faced far worse in my previous life.
But upon hearing my answer, Ji Kang-han stared at me silently, his gaze unwavering.
I looked at him, wondering why he was like that, and realized his gaze wasn’t fixed on my face, but behind me.
Wondering what it was, I turned around and jumped in surprise.
Beyond the cafe window, Yeon Hyeong-gwang was looking at us, his eyes wide with concern.
Next to him, Yeon Ha-yeon was eating yogurt-flavored ice cream, completely oblivious to the drama unfolding.
Then, she saw me, dropped her ice cream cone with a splat, and rushed into the cafe, her small frame radiating relief.
“Dana!”
“Noona!”
Han Ji-bin and Ji Kang-han alone were enough to draw attention, but now people were openly staring only at us, their whispers and gazes intensifying.
Regardless, the Yeon siblings, not caring about the public spectacle, naturally joined our table, pulling up chairs without asking.
“Are you okay? I wanted to visit, but they said I had to take absolute rest at home.”
Yeon Ha-yeon said, her voice trembling slightly.
“I should have walked you home then, I’m sorry. From now on, no matter what happens, I’ll take you home, Noona.”
Yeon Hyeong-gwang vowed, his fists clenched in a protective gesture.
“No, you don’t have to…”
I waved my hand and patted them, trying to reassure them.
Their faces clearly showed worry, even if they weren’t crying like Han Ji-bin.
‘Looks like today’s all about comforting kids.’
I thought, a small, weary sigh escaping me.
Outside, the sun was already setting, casting long, orange shadows across the city.
The day had been an unexpected whirlwind of emotions and concerned faces.
The news that the perpetrator of the dungeon murder case had died in the dungeon took the internet by storm, a sensational headline that gripped the public’s attention.
Because it was unclear whether he died from Hwan’s lightning attack or was caught by the Kraken, articles with only the title “Died in Dungeon” poured out one after another, each one adding to the frenzy.
Ban Eun-hye, who was busy playing games at home, his usual distraction, frowned as he read the articles.
Every time he saw an article, the memory of that day resurfaced, replaying in his mind with unsettling clarity.
On the way home from school, Ban Eun-hye spotted Dana vehemently refusing Yeon Hyeong-gwang’s offer to walk her home.
It was strange that she would refuse an escort and go alone, especially with all the commotion about the dungeon murder case, a time when everyone was on edge.
She felt completely different from the image she projected at first, the shy, awkward girl he thought he knew.
She’s got quite a lot of guts.
He mused, a grudging admiration surfacing.
Well, that’s probably why she punched away the wolf that was trying to attack her, a vivid memory from another time.
His expression inadvertently hardened at the thought of that moment, a flicker of irritation.
The unexpected “wall slam” by her, when she’d inadvertently thrown him against a wall while fighting the monster, kept replaying in his mind, a bizarre and slightly embarrassing incident.
Especially the baby powder scent that emanated from Dana back then, a soft, lingering fragrance that had somehow stuck with him.
He followed Dana as she walked spiritedly alone, a strange impulse guiding him.
At first, he kept a distance since they were going in the same direction, simply observing.
But at a fork in the road, he hesitated, a conflict of interest warring within him, and eventually turned his steps towards where Dana had gone, his curiosity overriding his usual aloofness.
He grumbled under his breath about the girl being fearless, complaints Dana couldn’t hear, his concern masked by annoyance.
He only intended to watch her safely enter the apartment complex and then leave, ensuring her well-being before returning to his own life.
The pink bag, which had first caught his eye earlier in the day, swayed lightly on Dana’s back.
It was clearly an empty bag with not a single book inside, further adding to the mystery of her movements.
When Dana turned a corner and entered an alley, he also waited a bit before turning the corner, maintaining his discreet distance.
Just as he rounded the corner, he saw a suspicious man grab Dana and throw her, a sudden, brutal act that shocked him.
“That bastard!”
He immediately pushed off the ground and ran, his instincts taking over.
But Dana, who should have flown into the wall and fallen, had vanished, a bewildering disappearance.
After that, the man also approached the wall and disappeared, following her into the unknown.
Following the man to the wall, he saw the gate entrance, shimmering with otherworldly energy.
Ban Eun-hye immediately stepped inside the gate as well, driven by a sudden, inexplicable urge to help.
The first thing he saw upon entering the gate was Dana, submerged in the sea with only her head peeking out, a sight that sent a jolt through him, and the man watching from above the cliff, his sinister presence looming.
There was no time to think further.
He kicked the annoying man out of the way, a swift, decisive move, and tried to think of a way to pull Dana up.
That is, until Dana suddenly appeared in front of him, materializing out of nowhere, a feat that completely disoriented him.
I thought my heart stopped right then.
The sudden appearance, the impossible skill, left him breathless.
Her face was wet, but her expression was calm, almost serene, a stark contrast to the terror she should have been feeling.
As she approached him, casually wringing out her wet hair, the baby powder scent from before wafted from her, a subtle, comforting fragrance.
Unlike her previous self, who had looked at him with an awkward gaze like many other female students, his heart thumped at her indifferent gaze, a strange mix of fascination and unease.
Ban Eun-hye felt as if his startled heart still hadn’t settled, the adrenaline and shock lingering. He couldn’t concentrate on his game at all, the memories of that day replaying relentlessly.
I was going to repay the favor from last time.
He reminded himself, the previous incident still fresh in his mind.
When she punched away the monster that tried to attack him in front of the principal’s office.
He could have handled it himself, but he was a little surprised that Dana saved him, a hunter of her rumored caliber stepping in for him.
To think she would step forward and face a monster, after hating and despising him so much, as he believed she did.
He felt a little touched, he thought, a rare emotion for him.
So, he resolved to repay the favor someday, a silent promise.
He just hadn’t expected it to be like this, an almost accidental rescue where he felt more like a witness than a savior.
He even wondered if he had truly saved her at all, a nagging doubt gnawing at him.
It was Dana who got out of the sea, and Dana who reported it to the Dungeon Management Bureau.
The Kraken… if he hadn’t been there, wouldn’t Hwan have gotten rid of it anyway?
This unsettling feeling, even after helping her, persisted.
His eyebrows twitched, betraying his irritation, as he vowed to properly repay the favor next time, to truly be her rescuer.
[Name: Lee Dana Rank: A(S) (Rank temporarily lowered due to skill lock) Occupation: Necromancer Hierarchy: Rank 0 (Rank determined by original rank) Titles: Transmigrator from another dimension, Hooded Hero, Villain who will destroy Earth Skills: Shackles of Darkness, Shadow Form, Black Cloud Mist, Necromancy, Locked… Owned Spirits: Sahin, Bishap, Locked…]
Late at night.
I lay in bed and brought up my status window for the first time in a while.
The illuminated display hovered before me, a testament to my progress.
The time had finally come to summon Bishap, who I had obtained in the last dungeon.
Oh?
My rank went up.
That was an unexpected bonus.
Was it because Necromancy was unlocked and I gained another spirit?
Seeing my rank go up made me feel even better, a boost to my already soaring spirits.
I walked to the window with a big smile on my face, the night sky a canvas for my growing power.
“Bishap.”
Today, I’ll ride Bishap to go look for gates, a new adventure awaiting.
At my call, a giant spirit appeared outside the window, its immense form materializing in the night air.
Its sharp eyes found me standing beyond the window and slowly blinked, acknowledging my presence.
[It has been a long time, Master.]
Its voice, a deep rumble, resonated in my mind.