Chapter 101

B-class Hunter.

"..."

They said it was a world where any random dog or cow could become a Hunter as long as they Awakened, but that certainly did not mean the rank B was low.

Above all, he had been a Grade 1 citizen from birth.

"..."

It was not simply that he lived in the city; he was evaluated as Grade 1 because he protected that city.

So, as a rule, he received preferential treatment and respect wherever he went. In this world, that was what a Grade 1 citizen was.

"..."

That was something worth having strong confidence over.

"... Uh..."

Enough confidence to do whatever he wanted with a mere Grade 3 citizen, that was.

"... Wh-what... Where am I?"

Stagger...

He barely managed to raise his powerless body.

"What the hell...?"

Park Eun-gyeom, a Grade 1 citizen and B-class Hunter, looked around.

"... A dungeon?"

There was a reason a man who could not be called inexperienced as a Hunter would have such an obvious and foolish question.

"A dungeon like this exists?"

Everything was achromatic.

Stark white. Abyssal black. Pale gray. Slightly darker gray. Gray nearly black.

Gray nearly white. Gray gleaming like glass. Gray rippling as if alive and breathing. Gray. Gray.

The man had fallen into the middle of a gray city.

"..."

As if his lungs had been stuffed full of cotton, his breath caught in his throat, and the man unconsciously felt at his chest.

Rationally, he knew there was nothing wrong with his body, but no, it was not the feeling that something had filled it. This was...

"... Wh-what is this..."

A terrifying sense of helplessness. He could not put strength into any part of himself. It felt as if all the muscles in his body had disappeared.

"I asked where this is."

It felt empty, as if the organ called lungs itself had vanished. Even though he was speaking, it felt as if his tongue had disappeared, he could not tell whether his vocal cords were vibrating, and even hearing his own voice did not feel like hearing.

"... What the hell..."

This emptiness, so strong it felt wrong, gradually encroached on his entire body. It was a change as natural as if someone were whispering beside his ear, saying, "This is how it ought to be."

It had started with his breath breaking off in gasps like that of a man about to die, then it felt as though his airway had vanished, and his pounding heart was silent in this strange fear to a degree he could not understand.

Even the warmth in his fingertips was disappearing.

"Impossible, im-impossible..."

Stumbling, the man quickly took in his surroundings.

Gray here. Gray there. Gray on this side. Gray on that side.

The buildings were boring, simple rectangles, built emotionally with Seoul's distinctive curves in mind, and also made either very long or very short.

'Built?'

Who had built this?

'This is... This is a dungeon. Yes, a dungeon.'

But something was strange. Too many things were empty.

This damn gray city looked filthy vast, and there were many buildings, yet he could not sense any presence at all. What dungeon in all the world could be this quiet?

'I can't even feel hostility.'

He had thought terror was monsters rushing in to kill him, but it was not. The terror was this endlessly vast dungeon simply doing nothing and looking at him.

It was merely gazing at the man.

"..."

Scary.

Scary?

Was it scary?

'... I can't even distinguish a single emotion...'

At first, it had been his exhaled breath.

Next were the organs extending from his lungs, and the warmth derived from them. After that came his emotions.

"U-uuugh..."

What would be next?

Little by little, the existence known as "Park Eun-gyeom" was disappearing.

"... Urgh!"

The man quickly shook his head and kneaded his hands.

'Don't think weird thoughts. Disappearing, my ass. My hands are right here, clear as day, and they're not cold either.'

All of this was nothing more than a simple illusion. It was also brainwashing by this dungeon to make him wither and die.

Because it was his first time dealing with this kind of silent dungeon, he had panicked for a moment, but he was not so easy to take down.

"If this is a dungeon, what kind of dungeon is it?"

Mobile-type or fixed-type? Virtual, villa-type, or entry-type?

Consciously keeping calm, the man took deep breaths and darted his eyes around.

"I definitely... That hand pulled me..."

He did not remember the detailed process. But he did remember that he had encountered a certain frame in the Jewel Vein, and the transparent hands crawling out of it had forcibly dragged him here.

The expression of the man, who had been trying to steady himself and secure his survival, soon crumpled miserably.

It was not anger, but despair and fear.

"..."

He had recalled the moment he was dragged into the frame.

"... Hup..."

The sensation had been vivid, as if his body had become paint and was melting down.

'... I-I can't think about that. In a situation like this, panicking even more will only lower my survival rate... Yes, I need to get a grip. Get a grip...'

He tried to force himself to settle down, but it was not easy.

It had been a truly strange feeling. Had it been painful? It seemed like it had been. Had it been peaceful? No, not that.

The sensation of being seized by transparent hands and slowly melting away like wax, starting with the feet that had been eaten first by the frame. That pain.

How could he possibly forget the feeling of becoming a liquid that could still live and think?

"..."

He had lost consciousness from that pain and had come all the way here without even being able to resist...

"..."

So.

"..."

What had he been trying to do?

"... Ah, ah, ah."

THUD!

The staggering man collapsed backward onto the ground.

"Uah..."

Now even his thoughts were disappearing into this void.

'I can't go on like this.'

He did not know exactly what kind of dungeon this was.

It might have a structure similar to the dungeons he knew, but it was completely different. Still, perhaps because he was a B-class Hunter, the man instinctively realized this dungeon was like a mutant.

That meant the chances of getting out alive were even lower, but that was fine. More precisely, it was closer to him being unable to think about it.

After realizing that, following pain and fear, he was changing into something that could not even think, the man struggled in any way he could.

"Get up, get up. Get up and..."

For some reason, he had not been able to put strength into his body for a while now. It felt similar to when he had not yet Awakened, when he had just woken up from sleep, or when he had collapsed after being swallowed by an emotion too intense.

But even that was horrifying.

'Is this dungeon sucking away even the strength I should naturally be able to exert?'

Because that suspicion had occurred to him.

After floundering on the ground like a bug several times, the man barely managed to stand.

He could not understand it, but perhaps because he had rubbed his body against the dark gray asphalt ground again and again, his entire body was covered in soot.

No, rather than soot, it seemed as if paint was rubbing off on him.

'Paint?'

Only then, and far too late, did the man realize whose dungeon he had entered.

"... Black Cloak..."

Had it not been a very famous topic of conversation lately?

"... Black, Black Cloak...!! Yeah, that bastard...!! That monster bastard!!"

Even in this dungeon, his deep-rooted arrogance and overflowing anger could not be hidden.

That dogshit monster bastard had created this sight of him being dragged along like a mangy dog and floundering so miserably.

A lowly monster, as vulgar as a mere beast, dared do this to a human...!

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!! You worthless monster who does nothing but go around handing out useless gifts...!!!"

He did not even know what he was shouting.

If he had been a Hunter who knew a little more and had better abilities, he would have realized this place was inside "Black Cloak's" stomach and shown as much humility and repentance as possible.

But if he had been that kind of human, why would the City of Emptiness have brought in a person named Park Eun-gyeom in the first place?

Jio's children knew exactly what their parent hated. It was beings like this, who did not even know their place.

"Hah, haah... Hngh..."

After thrashing about for a long while, the man moved his trembling legs and gradually left the spot.

Even if everything looked the same, every dungeon had an entrance and exit somewhere. There was no dungeon without a way out.

Such a thing could not be called a dungeon. So there would be one. Of course there would be one. And yet, a question still lingered.

'Why the hell would Black Cloak?'

Though the response rank on the Hunter Association website had been adjusted quite high, the people managing that information were all human too, so they might simply have been overly cautious.

The explanation said to exercise caution and whatnot, but in reality, Black Cloak had never harmed a human.

'Though there were some idiots who died because he suddenly left his post...'

The man, who had briefly recalled the country of the deep sea, shook his head.

'I've never heard of him attacking like this.'

The "Black Cloak" he knew was a pathetic monster that suddenly popped up, greeted people gloomily, gave out gifts, and disappeared.

Maybe because it was so worthless, he had even heard some nonsense about people gathering together and passing the time by talking about "Black Cloak"...

'Why the hell would a monster like that take me?'

It was when he was laboriously moving one foot at a time.

"..."

FREEZE.

The man's body stiffened.

"..."

Ignoring his jaw, which creaked like an unoiled hinge, he turned his head and looked behind him.

"..."

"..."

A suit was standing there.

"... What..."

"..."

"What are you?"

It was an utterly black suit.

A color that seemed modeled after the shadows of a dark basement where not a single point of light entered. Even the shirt was black, and every button was fastened meticulously enough to look suffocating. The matte black shoes somehow looked solid as well.

It merely stood still with its hands clasped behind its back, gazing at the man.

'... Gazing?'

What the hell was he saying while looking at that thing, which had no face?

'No, to begin with... Why did I...'

Why did he know that thing was behind him?

"..."

Though he had not sensed even a presence, the man knew the "suit" was behind him.

"... Ah..."

He had no idea what ink had flowed into the gaps of his emptying brain. He could not tell what he was becoming right now.

"... G-get away."

"..."

"Get away, you monster bastard. This, this is just... I'll..."

"..."

"I'll just..."

Keeping the suit in his sight, the man stumbled backward. Afraid that, while he was not looking, he might bump into another suit behind him, he checked behind himself constantly, but there was nothing of the sort.

The suit he had first seen did not come closer while he retreated either.

"..."

"..."

Even after he had moved for a long while, the suit remained still.

The moment the man made up his mind, he quickly ran away from that place.

"Eek...!!"

Because his legs had no strength, he fell again and again onto the rough asphalt ground, but this was no time to care about that.

"Uaaah, haah, hup...!!"

As he was running like that.

"Ah...!!!"

"..."

"Ah, aagh. Ugh...!!"

Another pitch-black suit entered his sight.

It was slowly walking down the road with its hands clasped behind its back, but from the direction of its twisted body, he could tell it was gazing at him. Its gait, moving at a moderate pace like a person heading to work, gave him an unbearable sense of wrongness, and the man forced back a scream.

Even so, he ran. He fell, scraped his skin, and ran again, repeating the process. He did not even have the leeway to analyze why he, a B-class Hunter, felt pain from this pathetic asphalt ground.

'Insane...!!'

The man kept encountering suits after that, too.

When he looked left, there was a pitch-black suit. It sat on a bench and gazed at the running man.

When he looked right, there was a suit running a little slowly. It, too, had its body turned in the man's direction and gazed at him.

When he looked ahead, there were two suits. They stood still and gazed at the man as he moved.

Then, when he looked back.

"..."

Right behind him, behind that, a little farther away, and in the alley, inside the buildings, beyond the glass windows, on the rooftops, beneath the streetlights, beside the benches, inside the bus stops, inside the convenience stores, inside cars, inside buses, black suits walking, running, and standing still were gazing at him.

"..."

Then.

If he looked ahead...?

"..."

If he looked ahead.

What would happen?

"..."

The man felt a black suit breathing out right beside his body.

"Hngh..."

He could not turn his head forward again.

It had no presence, but it did have existence. Though it was merely clothes moving, it felt as if there were a living person inside them.

No, of course, that absolutely could not be called a person, and should not be called one... But still.

"... Hup..."

The man slowly turned his body and slowly sank down.

"Hngh, hnghhh..."

As he crouched there pathetically, he saw the state he was in.

"Huaa... Auuurgh... Ugh..."

From his skin, scraped raw as if sanded, what came away was not blood but black paint.

"Aagh..."

With his trembling, pitch-black hands, the man clumsily felt at his face. It was wet.

"..."

When he turned his head and looked at the glass of a building, he saw himself turned blotchily black. The black color, dirty as if he were rotting, looked like holes carved into his flesh.

"..."

Even when he hurriedly felt around, there were no holes. But this was shadow.

The man lowered his head and kept feeling over his body, then looked at his pitch-black pants as if wet tar had stained them, then at the legs inside them, and then...

"..."

"..."

"..."

When he lifted his head.

"Wow, look at this man."

So chillingly.

A familiar voice reached his ears.

"Why is he so blotchy?"

"He isn't whole."

"Therefore, he can be called an unfinished work."

It was Park Eun-gyeom's own voice.

He saw the group of pitch-black suits now surrounding him and looking down at him.

"..."

They did not surround him so tightly that there was no gap at all, but their number was not small either. They looked like citizens watching a person who had suffered a heart attack.

His teeth chattered from the terrible wrongness.

"Wow, look at this man."

A completely identical voice.

"Why is he so blotchy?"

"He isn't whole."

"Therefore, he can be called an unfinished work."

Completely identical lines.

"..."

And.

Park Eun-gyeom felt at his throat.

"Wow."

"...—"

"Look at this man."

... He could not speak.

"Why is he so blotchy?"

"..."

"He isn't whole."

"..."

"Therefore, he can be called an unfinished work."

"..."

"..."

"..."