Unexpected Encounter in the Dungeon

“Thank you for saving me, Esper Han Gureum.” The pleasant, deep bass of his voice suited him remarkably well. There was no tremor in Seo Dowoon’s tone, and noting his quick composure, Han Gureum breathed a sigh of relief.

“On the contrary,” Han Gureum replied, “thank *you* for enduring so well.” Seo Dowoon’s face softened as he met the gaze of those unwavering, golden eyes.

While Han Gureum found himself intrigued and a little mystified by Seo Dowoon, Seo Dowoon himself was quick to grasp the gravity of his own predicament. Should Han Gureum abandon him, he would be nothing more than a powerless civilian, fated to perish within this dungeon. Thus, his immediate priority was to cooperate fully and make the best possible impression until they could escape.

Seo Dowoon was keenly aware of the incredibly low survival rate for civilians who found themselves trapped in dungeons. Moreover, he knew it was a rare stroke of luck to encounter an Esper, as he had, and thus cling to life.

‘Perhaps,’ he mused, ‘there are so few survivors because they aren’t rescued at all.’ A chilling rumor often floated around about civilians being abandoned if they proved to be a hindrance during a dungeon raid. Given the shockingly low survival rates, a considerable number of people actually believed it. While Seo Dowoon didn’t fully subscribe to such a grim tale, his current experience certainly made him consider its alarming plausibility. In any case, his immediate focus had to be on cooperating with Han Gureum to the fullest extent.

‘And I’m quite curious about him, too,’ he thought. Seo Dowoon offered a soft smile, conveying his absolute intention not to be a burden. After all, to learn more about Han Gureum, they first needed to escape the dungeon.

A pang of pity struck Han Gureum as he observed Seo Dowoon’s smile, imagining the sheer terror of being dropped into a dungeon all alone.

‘How utterly terrified he must have been?’ Han Gureum wondered. ‘Especially in a cave dungeon, where it’s pitch black. He must have been relying on his phone’s flashlight to navigate.’ Yet, beyond his sympathy, it was also the rescue team’s duty to ground the person in reality and prevent them from succumbing to panic.

“We are currently in a C-grade dungeon,” Han Gureum explained. “While its cave-like nature can feel suffocating, it’s been assessed as a C-grade closer to a D-grade, so there’s no need for excessive worry.” He relayed the current situation, emphasizing that the danger was manageable. He had half-expected the survivor to show renewed fear, but Seo Dowoon simply maintained his smile, offering no other discernible reaction.

“Are you truly uninjured?” Han Gureum pressed, his gaze filled with concern. “No sprained ankles or hands, no bumps or bruises…?” Seo Dowoon met his worried eyes with a reassuring smile.

“No, truly, I’m fine.”

“Tell me if you feel any pain later. Even a C-grade dungeon can take some time to clear. I’d like to send you out first, but due to the dungeon’s nature, the portal only opens after the boss is defeated, so please bear with us a little longer.”

While portals allowing entry into a dungeon could materialize at any moment, the exit portal would only unlock once its formidable boss was vanquished. It remained a mystery who had created these enigmatic dungeons; they had simply manifested alongside the emergence of supernatural abilities, leaving countless aspects still shrouded in obscurity.

How could anyone possibly comprehend the intricacies of these bizarre dungeons when the very origin of supernatural abilities remained unknown? Yet, it wasn’t as if there had been no progress whatsoever. They could now predict the energy waves that preceded a rift’s emergence, enabling them to evacuate nearby residents in advance and significantly reducing the likelihood of stranded civilians — provided, of course, that a rift didn’t materialize as abruptly as it had today.

“We will protect you, so don’t worry and just follow us. We will definitely get you out.”

“Yes. I’ll be in your care until then.”

Sensing his comrades approaching, Han Gureum kept a watchful eye on Seo Dowoon. Even though Seo Dowoon continued to insist he was fine, Han Gureum couldn’t shake the worry that he might be too deeply in shock to truly perceive his own condition.

Civilians being swept into rifts was an infrequent occurrence. Even on the rare occasions it did happen, the rescued survivors often caused such a frantic commotion that they became a significant impediment during the raid.

While such reactions were undoubtedly born of terror, their loud screams, desperate cries, and wailing not only disrupted combat but could also inadvertently provoke monsters, turning themselves into targets. Thus, careful management of a survivor’s mental state was paramount. Fortunately, this particular survivor appeared unlikely to cause such a disturbance.

‘He’s remarkably calm,’ Han Gureum observed. The dark eyes he met no longer held the tremor they had shown moments ago. Still, deep within a dungeon, a cave he would never ordinarily set foot in, Seo Dowoon must have been experiencing an underlying current of fear, whether he consciously acknowledged it or not.

Just to be safe, Han Gureum extended his palm, manifesting a small, glowing golden orb.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said, gently placing the small orb on Seo Dowoon’s left shoulder.

“This will keep you warm. It might get colder further inside, so keep it close.”

Seo Dowoon turned his head, his gaze settling on the luminous orb nestled on his shoulder.

‘Is this an ability too?’

Though it radiated light right beside him, it wasn’t dazzling. The golden orb gently pushed back the cave’s chill, emitting a soothing warmth. Han Gureum didn’t stop there; he also reached out to adjust the oversized robe Seo Dowoon was wearing.

‘This robe is far too small,’ he noted inwardly. He had hastily draped it over Seo Dowoon, but the substantial difference in their builds meant it was ill-fitting. Perhaps it would be better to have him change into a more suitable one once their comrades arrived. Nevertheless, Han Gureum carefully adjusted it, securing it as best he could to prevent it from slipping.

“Tell me if you get cold.”

“If you give this to me, what about you, Esper?”

“I’ll be fine,” Han Gureum assured him. “Ah, it seems my comrades are arriving.” He glanced behind him, the distinct sound of voices now clearly audible, much closer than before.

“Caves are really not my type! It’s humid! I should’ve sent Brother Seongsu instead!”

“You said you’d come. You came saying you couldn’t let your credit card bill be overdue this month, so why are you complaining now?”

“How was I supposed to know it was a cave? I can’t fully utilize my abilities in here!”

“Ow! Why’d you hit me? Is that my fault?”

“Both of you, stop,” another voice interjected. “Your voices are echoing.” A cacophony of several voices blended together.

It wasn’t long before four guild members, clad in attire identical to Han Gureum’s, emerged into view and approached them.

Han Gureum kept his gaze fixed on his approaching comrades as he spoke, his voice steady. “Even though our numbers are few, we are an elite unit, so there’s no need for you to worry. We will ensure you get out of here swiftly.”

These were not merely words intended to soothe. His confident expression and unwavering tone suggested that the possibility of a failed raid hadn’t even crossed his mind. A deep-seated, steadfast trust in his comrades permeated his every word.

Seo Dowoon glanced down at Han Gureum for a moment before turning his body. The members of the Herbivore Guild, having now drawn close, formed a circle around the two of them.

“Oh dear, you’ve certainly been through a lot,” remarked Lee Beomgyu, his bleached blonde hair a striking contrast. He addressed Seo Dowoon with an easygoing charm. It was clear from his sparkling, undisguised gaze that he was utterly fascinated, having never personally encountered a civilian swept into a dungeon before.

At that, Yoon Dokyung, standing beside him, subtly nudged Lee Beomgyu’s arm. It was a clear signal to rein it in, but Lee Beomgyu simply gave a dismissive shrug.

‘Ah… this tactless idiot,’ Yoon Dokyung thought, clicking his tongue softly before turning to Seo Dowoon with a more amiable tone.

“It’s a relief you don’t seem to be hurt. You must have been very startled.”

“……”

“……He must be truly startled,” Yoon Dokyung murmured, shaking his tightly tied-up hair from side to side as he retreated. Clearly, engaging in conversation with complete strangers was not his strong suit. Such duties were typically handled by another designated member.

Standing beside Han Gureum, Kim Ajun matched Seo Dowoon in height. With the two towering figures side by side, Han Gureum, by comparison, appeared surprisingly diminutive.

“Hello. I’m Esper Kim Ajun from the Herbivore Guild. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“He’s not,” Han Gureum interjected, answering for him.

Before uttering a word, Seo Dowoon’s eyes subtly scanned the approaching figures, attempting to ascertain who they were. He doubted they would find his silence peculiar.

After all, to them, he was simply a hapless civilian who had been unfortunate enough to fall into a dungeon.

Indeed, the guild members harbored no strange thoughts about Seo Dowoon. They simply regarded him as someone profoundly unlucky yet, in a peculiar twist of fate, remarkably fortunate.

It was a rare occurrence for a civilian to be pulled into a gate, and this particular incident marked the first of its kind in Dongjak-gu in six months.

Seo Dowoon, maintaining his pleasant smile, continued to observe the guild members. For a team supposedly on a dungeon raid, they had been remarkably boisterous during their approach. Their small number also struck him as rather unusual.

‘The Herbivore Guild’s ranking was… 23rd, wasn’t it?’ he mused. Typically, dungeon raids involved around twenty individuals, with higher-grade dungeons often requiring a much larger contingent. E-grade or F-grade dungeons, however, could be cleared by a smaller group.

Despite their limited numbers, he felt no concern about failing to exit the dungeon. Furthermore, with the S-grade Esper Han Gureum among the Herbivore Guild, there was surely no risk of dying here.

A brief silence settled, then Park Hayoon stepped closer to Seo Dowoon. With his ramrod-straight posture, broad shoulders, impeccable demeanor, and a genuinely friendly smile, he exuded an aura of complete trustworthiness.

“Hello. I’m Guide Park Hayoon from the Herbivore Guild. I’ll be with you from now on.”

“I look forward to your guidance.”

“Yes, just trust me!” Park Hayoon declared with a confident grin. “Gureum-hyung, wear mine.” Seeing that Han Gureum’s robe was currently on Seo Dowoon, Park Hayoon began to shed his own.

Guild robes served multiple purposes: primarily to identify one’s guild affiliation and to offer protection. Unlike ordinary garments, guild robes were not made from common fabrics. Designed akin to combat uniforms, their durability was paramount, typically crafted from processed by-products of monsters. Consequently, they were difficult for civilians to acquire on the market, and their high cost meant guild members took great care to prevent damage.

Han Gureum accepted Park Hayoon’s robe, believing it would be better to replace Seo Dowoon’s ill-fitting one than to wear it himself.

“Please swap this with yours. Mine is too small, so this one will be a better fit.”

Seo Dowoon looked at Park Hayoon’s robe, then shook his head.

“No. I prefer this one.”

It was a resolute refusal, uttered without a moment’s hesitation.