* * *
What the hell?
I shot to my feet and scanned our surroundings.
But none of the many paths showed any sign of danger.
Even the people in the “safe zone” were still busy working as usual.
Then… where the hell was it coming from?
“Shit. It’s coming!”
Cha Taeyang shouted and grabbed my wrist.
He pulled me into his arms and took off running, trying to get us out of the ground’s tremor radius—but whatever was moving beneath our feet struck faster than we could escape.
–KWAANG!
The floor surged beneath us and collapsed with a deafening crash.
Not just me and Taeyang—even the people in the “safe zone” had no time to react.
Screams echoed as we all plummeted into an endless darkness.
“Jehee! Jehee, are you okay?!”
How far had we fallen?
I opened my eyes to the sound of his voice.
Cha Taeyang was shaking me, gently slapping my cheek.
I met his worried gaze and slowly came back to my senses.
Cough.
A dry cough burst out of me.
Breathing was hard—must’ve inhaled dust and dirt.
Even my mouth was full of grit.
I had to spit it out several times.
Surprisingly, though, the fall hadn’t hurt as much as expected.
Even though Taeyang had held me, we’d fallen far enough that dying on impact wouldn’t have been surprising…
“I-I’m… cough okay…”
“Phew… Thank god. You’re talking. Let me see—are you really okay? No injuries?”
“I don’t… think so…”
Nowhere hurt yet. It felt no worse than falling out of bed.
Still not fully reassured, Taeyang started feeling around my body, checking for injuries.
Only when he confirmed I was responding normally and had no obvious wounds or swelling did he finally exhale in relief.
Once he saw me sitting up on my own, Taeyang stood and called out loudly:
“Anyone hurt? Does anyone need help?”
That must’ve been the signal, because groans and coughs started ringing out from around us.
Thankfully, they all sounded like people dealing with dust and dirt—none of them seemed to be in agonizing pain.
“Is everyone… okay?”
“What just… happened?”
“Is this… did we really fall?”
“Why did the floor just… collapse like that?”
“I saw it! The ground just cracked open!”
“No, but seriously—why did it collapse?!”
Gradually, people began getting up one by one.
Covered in dust, pale as ghosts, but still standing.
A headcount showed we had about the same number of people as before.
We found out how we’d all survived through a staff member from the Bureau, who checked the installed safety mechanisms as soon as he recovered.
“Thankfully, it looks like the pre-installed barrier worked. It cushioned the impact.”
Without it, there would’ve been a disaster.
Just imagining it made my spine go cold.
Most of the team had gone deeper into the dungeon, but 13 people—including me and Cha Taeyang—had stayed in the safe zone.
Most of them weren’t even combat personnel.
They wouldn’t have been able to do anything in a fall like that.
Once everyone’s safety was confirmed, Taeyang turned to the staff member who seemed to be in charge.
“Is the barrier still active?”
“For now, yes… but it’s being drained fast. I’m not sure how long it’ll hold…”
“Do we have spares? Any other usable defense tools?”
“Uh… this is a B-Class dungeon, so we weren’t expecting this. Honestly, the fact that we even had this much set up is lucky. We have a few minor items, but… nothing great.”
“What about communication devices?”
It seemed the barrier had only affected living things—most of our equipment had fallen with us and remained functional.
The lights from the safe zone were still on, giving us visibility.
That was a massive relief.
But that’s where the good news ended.
“…No good. The devices look fine, but there’s no signal.”
“You mean…”
“Looks like we’ve fallen a long way from our original position.”
We’d fallen deep. Very deep.
When we looked up toward where we came from, all we saw was pitch-black darkness.
Even with lanterns pointed straight up, all we could see was more black.
Climbing back up looked impossible.
‘My blue line won’t be enough… will it?’
If we were deep enough that communications were down, then it was too dangerous to try.
If I reached across with my line and there was nothing to stand on—just empty air—we could really lose people.
What now…?
I stood there, stunned, staring blankly upward.
Then I started hearing voices around me.
“So, what do we do now? The communication devices aren’t working…”
“Won’t the hunters come to rescue us? A lot of well-known ones are here, right?”
“Of course. With that loud noise earlier, they must be rushing over right now to figure something out.”
“You think so…?”
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just wait for now. They said the barrier’s still intact. Not many of us here can fight, so moving around would be even more dangerous.”
“R-right. In times like this, staying safe and holding out until the rescue team arrives is the most important thing.”
The group quickly reached an agreement.
Their words were exchanged with a forced brightness, but my heightened senses—sharpened since awakening—picked up on what they were really feeling.
Anxiety.
All their voices trembled ever so slightly.
Maybe they were thinking something like this:
An abyss so deep and dark.
Just as we don’t have the nerve to climb up, maybe those up there don’t have the nerve to come down.
We’ve fallen into such a deep hole.
They might not even imagine we survived, not when they saw us fall.
They could assume everyone died on impact.
Maybe they’re thinking there’s no need to rush to retrieve the bodies, or worse, they’ve already given up.
Maybe they’re trying to justify it as unavoidable.
That kind of despairing thought.
The cold air and dim lighting—barely enough to push back the darkness—only fed into the unease.
And maybe that’s why tensions started rising faster than expected.
“Isn’t it strange? Why is there such a vast space under the safe zone?”
“Right? Why was a place with a floor that could collapse even designated a safe zone to begin with?”
“Exactly. Safety is supposed to be top priority in a dungeon. What kind of inspection was this?”
“It’s not like we knew. It’s our first time on this site too, and none of the reports mentioned anything about this space! The whole ranking was wrong from the start. How is this place a B-Class when the ground collapses like that?”
“We were just following protocol based on the data we received!”
“And you didn’t miss any important information in those reports?”
“Why would we do that? Aren’t you the ones who overlooked the space beneath and let things get this bad in the first place?”
“Ha! So now you’re saying it’s our fault?”
“No, I just meant that you—”
The conversation quickly devolved into a blame game.
Sharp voices flew back and forth, full of emotion and raised tempers.
“Yikes. Everyone’s got so much energy. As if fighting is going to solve anything.”
I wasn’t sure if they should really be wasting time like this, but apparently I wasn’t the only one thinking that.
Cha Taeyang, with a weary look on his face, quietly stepped back and came to stand beside me.
Then he even tried to hide behind me, like he didn’t want to be seen by the others.
Not that it worked—he’s way bigger than me.
There’s no hiding that bulk.
“Shouldn’t we try stopping them?”
“Don’t bother. Getting involved in that mess won’t help anyone. People that desperate to blame someone… you just get caught in the crossfire.”
“Still…”
“I’ve been to more sites than I can count. You think I haven’t seen guys like that before? Just give it a minute. Once they burn through that anger, I’ll step in.”
Since he put it like that, I decided to hold off.
If I stepped in now, I’d probably make things worse than if Cha Taeyang did.
Instead, I tried to think—was there anything useful I could do?
As I wracked my brain, a thought struck me.
What if… all the people arguing right now are actually innocent?
“Cha Taeyang.”
“Hm?”
“What if this space is new?”
“…What do you mean?”
“Think about it. For this dungeon to get through final safety inspection, dozens—no, hundreds—of people must’ve been through here. They would’ve made maps, logged monster types, assessed danger levels and mana stone drop rates. All that. So if none of those people knew about this space, doesn’t that mean it could’ve formed recently?”
“How would a space this huge just appear out of nowhere? This is a B-Class, and there haven’t even been reports of any large monsters…”
Cha Taeyang trailed off. Judging by the look on his face, he’d come to the same realization I had.
We had felt it, after all—back in the so-called “safe zone,” right before we fell.
That ominous presence rumbling through the ground.
And now we’d landed in a previously undocumented space.
That could only mean one thing.
There might be an unknown monster—still undiscovered—that created this space.
Cha Taeyang’s face went pale.
The realization must’ve hit him hard, because he suddenly turned and started shouting toward the still-arguing group.
“You guys—shut your mouths and—!”
But once again, he never got to finish.
* * *
