* * *
Seohwa spent his time preparing for his first dungeon raid as Yuje.
First, he visited a psychiatrist.
He greeted them with a bright smile, exchanging names and introductions.
As they spoke, he even learned that his doctor had once been passionate about ballet.
“I thought your posture was unusually proper and poised.”
“Really? I only did it for three years in middle school. That was twenty years ago.”
“Three years is a long time, especially during those stormy adolescent years when hobbies change every hour. That’s impressive. Why’d you quit?”
“No talent. I was decent, but once I saw the real prodigies, my motivation died. Some say it’s better not to have talent at all than to have just a little.”
Seohwa smiled gently.
“Doctor, you still love ballet, don’t you?”
“…Not really. It’s been too long.”
“All the music in the waiting room is ballet music. Swan Lake, The Nutcracker, The Rite of Spring. You carefully curated that playlist, didn’t you?”
The doctor’s face turned red.
“Why not start again? You don’t have to become a ballerina. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a hobby that brightens your life?”
“Come on, I’m too old for ballet.”
“In an age where non-Awakened people live to 200, you’re basically a newborn.”
“A newborn? Really…?”
“What does age have to do with doing what you love?”
“…….”
“Even if your hair turns white, if you love it, just do it. Who cares if a grandpa does ballet? Is anyone getting hurt? Is the world crumbling? No. If anything, it helps. The ballet instructor makes money, uses it for their own hobbies like piano or violin, then those teachers earn from it too. It’s a cycle that benefits everyone.”
“……But I don’t have talent.”
“If you’re not making a living from it, does talent even matter? So what if you feel anxious or inadequate while doing ballet? It’s just a hobby. You have the ultimate excuse: ‘I don’t have to be good at this.’ And if one day you do get good? Then you can be proud—because it was never about making a living, just about enjoying it. That’s the real value of a hobby.”
The doctor was silent for a long moment.
Then, suddenly, their expression shifted as if something had clicked.
They clenched their fists and jumped up.
“Yuje! Thank you for the encouragement. I’m going to start ballet again!”
“I’ll be cheering for you, doctor.”
“Right now!”
“…What?”
“Today’s session is over! I need to reclaim my lost passion!”
“W-Wait! My prescription—”
He barely managed to stop the doctor from running out the door to get his anxiety meds.
After that, he decided he’d source them… through less official channels.
Next, he focused on practicing social interactions.
He had gone too long without normal conversations.
If he wanted to blend in, he needed to train himself.
He sat in the middle of a busy café, listening to how people talked, then practiced with Kobami at home.
Once, while sitting alone, a stranger approached him with a peculiar smile.
“You have a pure aura… I could feel it as I passed by. You must have ancestral blessings.”
Modern cults were practically terrorist organizations, so he was on guard—until he realized this was just one of the old-school, traditional ones.
Seeing it as an opportunity, Seohwa invited the cultist to sit, even buying them another drink.
He spent five hours talking to them.
“Wow… How could your own family do that to you? Boyeon, you’ve had such a painful life…”
“Sniff… And the worst part? My mom took his side. Said that as the eldest son, he needed a safety net. That starting a business costs money, so I should take out loans for him. Sniff.”
“That’s insane. If it’s his business, he should take out the loans. If his credit’s too bad, then he should work and save up. How could they expect you, a student, to sacrifice yourself?”
“Waaaah!” The cultist burst into tears.
“That’s why I left home. I decided that from now on, the money I earn is mine alone. But… I had nowhere to go. So I ended up here, in this stupid cult…”
“So, you knew it was a cult?”
“Sniff… Of course I did. I hated approaching people with that dumb ‘You have a pure aura’ line. Everyone glares at me… But I needed the incentives to stay in the dorms. If I didn’t, the senior members would… Sniff.”
“Oh, dear.”
Seohwa handed them a tissue as they sobbed.
“Why not find a proper job with dorm housing?”
“But… I have no confidence. I barely went to school, and this is all I’ve ever done…”
“You can do it. You had the courage to approach strangers with a smile, didn’t you?”
“…….”
“Feeling intimidated, constantly watching others’ reactions, with no place to rely on—yet still managing to put on a smile. That’s an incredible talent. Boyeon, with this talent, I’m sure you can accomplish something better, something right. I’ll be cheering for you.”
“Yuje… sniff…!”
And so, the cultist left, saying that thanks to you, he had gained the courage to start a new life.
Seohwa let out a deep breath.
Dealing with people is exhausting…
At least it didn’t seem like his anxiety was too obvious.
Feeling utterly drained, he rested for a while before downing his anti-anxiety medication.
The trembling in his hands was beyond his control.
Three days passed like that.
6:08 AM.
Seohwa arrived at the entrance of a second-tier gate in the upper Nakdong River, timing it perfectly for the 6:30 AM check-in.
Under the banner [Danbaek Second-Tier Party], only Danbaek guild members were present.
In the system’s terminology, anything above Tier-3 was classified as an ‘expedition,’ while anything below was called a ‘party.’
This wasn’t a human-made distinction—the system had decided it.
Expedition dungeons and party dungeons were vastly different, both in difficulty and structure.
The biggest distinction? Escape.
In an expedition dungeon, once you enter, you cannot leave until you clear it.
In contrast, party dungeons grant an instant-use item called an ‘Escape Stone’ upon entry.
If a party fails the dungeon, the Escape Stone becomes useless.
However, if used before the system registers a failure, it allows for a safe retreat.
Escape Stones only work within their respective dungeon, and once used to exit, re-entry into the same dungeon is impossible.
Aside from these system-based differences, there was another key factor.
Party dungeon entries were quiet affairs.
For expeditions, journalists showed up to report, and crowds gathered to watch.
But for party dungeons?
No such fanfare.
Seeing only a handful of staff at the gate, Seohwa felt relieved.
The anti-anxiety meds he had taken earlier seemed to be working.
“Mercenary Lee Yuje?”
“Yes. Hello.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Kim Biyul, the party leader. Please introduce yourself to the other members and warm up. We’re still waiting on two more mercenaries.”
“Understood.”
After exchanging greetings with the party members, Seohwa stretched while scanning the group for familiar faces.
Kim Biyul—despite his young age, he had a composed and level-headed nature.
In previous timelines and in this one, he had always remained a rookie in Seohwa’s memory.
But now, he had grown into a party leader.
Kim Biyul
- Rank: B
- Soul Force: 7474
- Intelligence: 7550
- Defense: 7111
- Traits: Alchemist, Herbalist
- Skills: [Can We Eat That?], [Green Killing Intent]
This was the profile Seohwa remembered, but three years had passed. He might have acquired new skills.
Seohwa had the ability to check status windows but chose not to.
If Biyul had developed a skill that could detect peeking, it’d only raise suspicion.
The other party members were unfamiliar faces.
The party consisted of seven members, including Seohwa—four from the Danbaek Guild and three mercenaries.
Biyul was the only B-rank, while the guild members were all F-rank.
The mercenaries were C-rank and D-rank.
‘Looks like they’re here to complete the second-quarter mandatory mission.’
The Awakening System assigned various missions to Awakened individuals—main, side, and hidden missions.
Side missions could be declined, but many main and hidden missions were mandatory.
Among these, one main mission applied to all Awakened individuals.
[Main Mission: “The Crown is Heavy.”
-With great power comes great responsibility.
-As someone who has defied overwhelming odds to awaken, you too must bear this responsibility.
-Protect the Earth from the terrifying monsters of the dungeons.
- Clear at least one dungeon every 2,190 hours (approximately every three months).
- If the system deems dungeon clearing impossible, the mission will be temporarily suspended.
- Failure Penalty: Rank Demotion → F-Rank: Awakening Powers Revoked.
Every Awakened individual had to clear a dungeon once per quarter, no exceptions. ]
* * *
