Chapter 4 - 1-Star Epic Dungeon (1)

　　1.

　　“Could you please wait a moment?” the staff member asked.

　　“Of course,” Buja replied.

　　She hurriedly began her search, asking no questions about his level or his ability to clear such a dungeon. That was precisely why he had come to the Dungeon Store instead of the Dungeon Management Association. Here, as long as you had the money, they would sell you one of their affiliated dungeons, no questions asked.

　　In the years since dungeons appeared, the new resources they provided had spurred rapid advancements for humanity. As a result, society had come to accept that death was a potential, and personal, consequence of taking on such challenges.

　　“We have two 1-star Epic dungeons with a minimum entry of one person: one in Suwon and another near Incheon. Would you like to see the files?” the staff member asked with a professional smile after finishing her search.

　　She handed him two portfolios. He glanced over them briefly before making his decision.

　　“I’ll take the one with the Defeat the Boss Monster condition.”

　　Choices should be made without hesitation. His shopping was done.

* * *

　　Until yesterday, he had been a nobody leading a dead-end life, but the Dungeon Store didn’t care about any of that.

　　“We’ve received the $38,000 down payment, and the contract is complete with a seventy-thirty profit split,” the staff member confirmed. “We’ll have it ready for you today at four p.m.”

　　The customer was king. No matter how low-level a player might be, if they survived, they were a potential long-term client who would contribute to the store’s future, just as others had fueled its growth until now.

　　As Buja left, the staff escorted him to the exit, bowing politely. He returned the gesture before letting out a quiet sigh.

　　“Damn thieves. They really know how to rake it in.”

　　Of course, that VIP treatment was reserved for customers with cash. He couldn’t fully enjoy the service when it felt like he was being overcharged for a dungeon that was practically just lying around.

　　“Still, it saves me the trouble of preparing everything myself.”

　　When he broke it down, it wasn’t a bad deal. It was an Epic dungeon, with a guaranteed payout of at least $77,000 upon completion and potentially much more if an Epic item dropped. The store provided detailed information, from the clear conditions to the monster types, making a safer run possible. Furthermore, the down payment covered the labor costs for managing the dungeon and the price of the consumables he would need.

　　This model wasn’t exclusive to Epic dungeons. Most players made similar trades, whether Normal or Rare, the only difference was the price. It was a win-win: players could focus solely on the conquest, and the Dungeon Store profited from the initial payment. If a player failed, the store could simply sell the dungeon to someone else for another round of profit.

　　I have to get an Epic item, he resolved.

　　He knew it wasn’t a losing bet, but he couldn’t shake the hollow feeling that came from spending his entire life savings. Forcing the image of his empty bank account from his mind, he headed toward the dungeon’s location.

* * *

　　A player’s level is the primary measure of their strength. A higher level means higher stats. However, not all high-level players can clear high-grade dungeons. 1-star, 2-star, 3-star—the ratings, which correspond to the number of clear conditions, don’t just offer clues for escape, but they are also tied to a player’s entry level.

　　1-star dungeons were for levels 1 through 9. 2-star for levels 10 through 19. 3-star for levels 20 through 29.

　　This reality, more game-like than any game, issued a stern warning to its players: Do not grow complacent. The stronger you become, the stronger the monsters and dungeons that will test you.

　　It might seem trivial, but each additional clear condition placed immense pressure on a player. Fulfilling the conditions allowed you to exit a dungeon from anywhere at any time. Conversely, failing to do so meant you weren’t leaving alive.

　　For this reason, most players stuck to Normal-grade dungeons. They were the most common and generally manageable at any level range. While it was hard to strike it rich, they provided a steady income from monster hides and carcasses, and if you were lucky, some medicinal herbs.

　　Rare-grade dungeons, on the other hand, offered the chance to obtain Rare-grade items from monsters, with a minuscule probability of dropping an item of the next tier up. Naturally, the difficulty spiked accordingly.

　　—Rare dungeons are on a completely different level.

　　—I’ve cleared a few, and the monsters are definitely smarter, more cunning.

　　—I saw one get stabbed, and it just smiled while ripping out the player’s throat. Gave me enough trauma to stick to Normal dungeons for life.

　　—I even saw a monster wearing an Epic item in a Rare dungeon.

　　This was precisely why the Dungeon Store employee had been so accommodating when Buja expressed interest in an Epic dungeon. They were waiting for countless other players just like him.

　　—Buying Rare accessories!

　　—Buying Epic armor.

　　—Seeking players capable of clearing an Epic dungeon. Full guild support provided.

　　They were all waiting for a player who could elevate their own power with a bit of investment. This dynamic was a major reason Buja had so desperately awaited his awakening. This new reality was no different from a game. Consequently, news of someone attempting a high-grade dungeon spread with surprising speed.

　　“Guild Master, did you hear?” a voice chirped. “Someone’s apparently attempting the solo Epic dungeon over in Incheon.”

　　Jeong Cheol, master of the Jeong Cheol Guild, one of the top three most renowned guilds in South Korea, was buried in paperwork. A stunning woman in her twenties approached his desk, her words bubbling with excitement. It was a familiar scene, and Cheol let her chatter go in one ear and out the other.

　　But she was not one to give up. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? A solo attempt on an Epic dungeon. Doesn’t it remind you of your younger days, sir?”

　　“That was three years ago, at most. What do you mean, younger days?” he grumbled, not looking up. “Stop making a fuss and get back to work.”

　　Despite his stern tone, the woman didn’t budge. She shifted her gaze, a torrent of words spilling out. “If it’s that dungeon, we might get a piece of Epic armor out of it. No, more importantly, if a player can solo-clear an Epic, shouldn’t we be the first to recruit them?”

　　“A solo-entry dungeon means the difficulty is proportionally lower. You have to consider that,” he countered.

　　“We have to snatch up talent like this the moment it appears!”

　　For a moment, their opinions clashed. Her point was perfectly valid, and Cheol knew it. That was precisely why he opposed it.

　　“We are a small, elite team. Recruiting more people now, even a Legendary-class ranker, could just get in the way. Besides, other guilds will have their eyes on this person too. You said they haven’t even attempted it yet, right? Even if they succeed, I have no desire to sit at a negotiation table where the salary is inflated by a bidding war.”

　　Every guild had its own culture. Their conversation was a classic case of counting chickens before they hatched, but Cheol’s logic was sound. On any other day, the woman would have conceded.

　　But not this time.

　　A smile bloomed on her lips. She was a woman of striking proportions—tall and statuesque, with a face beautiful enough to belong to a celebrity. “Even if it’s a player attempting a one-star Epic?”

　　She played her trump card. For the first time, Cheol lifted his head from his documents. “A one-star Epic?”

　　“Isn’t that worth the investment?”

　　“Can you reel them in?” he asked, his tone shifting in an instant.

　　The woman’s nod was firm. “I’ll do it, no matter what.”

　　She was confident! For a brief moment, their eyes met, a silent exchange of trust passing between them. Then, a flicker of worry crossed Cheol’s face.

　　“Don’t say no matter what. You know our budget. Feel them out. If it doesn’t look promising, just back off.”

　　“I’ll be on my way now, Dad.”

　　Unfortunately, his heartfelt concern never quite reached the ears of his daughter, Jeong Seora.

* * *

　　2.

　　When Buja arrived at the location provided by the Dungeon Store, a large crowd had already gathered.

　　I guess there really aren’t many players attempting Epic dungeons, he mused. He had a rough idea of why they were all here. Plenty of players challenged Epic dungeons for a shot at Epic items, but his situation had a few extra conditions that had clearly piqued their interest.

　　A solo attempt at a one-star dungeon.

　　While the minimum entry requirement only slightly altered a dungeon’s difficulty, the difference between challenging it alone and having a team to rely on was immeasurable when stepping into the unknown. And this wasn’t just any solo attempt—it was trying to clear an Epic-grade, one-star dungeon, a territory for players below level 10.

　　It was common for major guilds to nurture talent, deck them out in the best gear, and send them into Epic, Unique, or Special dungeons. Yet even those well-funded teams rarely succeeded. It couldn’t be helped. There was a wall of raw stats that even the best items couldn’t overcome. A fresh player could be draped in Unique and Special-grade gear, but if their combat experience didn’t match the monsters’ ferocity, they were just mules delivering expensive equipment to the dungeon.

　　Naturally, all eyes were on him. Buja squared his shoulders, a smirk playing on his lips as he soaked in the attention. So this day has finally come. He was used to being watched. In fact, compared to the gazes he had gotten in the game, this was mere curiosity.

　　I’ll show you all my skills.

　　He drew his daggers. The collective murmur of the crowd waiting behind the safety line washed over him.

　　“Looks like he’s going in.”

　　“With that crappy gear?”

　　“His armor looks like a plain t-shirt.”

　　“Maybe it’s a Unique item that just looks like that?”

　　“You wish.”

　　His stride faltered for a half-second. A member of the Dungeon Store support team approached, handing him a magic backpack they prepared.

　　“There’s a week’s worth of rations,” the staff explained. “The boss will go berserk one week after you engage it, so you have to finish the fight before then.”

　　It was all in the briefing he’d received. He gave a curt nod, briefly debating whether to inform them that his shabby armor was, in fact, an Epic set exclusive to the Gold Maker class. He quickly dismissed the idea.

　　This stuff is just a supplement, anyway, he thought, and stepped toward the dungeon’s maw.

　　[Do you wish to enter the dungeon?]

　　The system’s query was a courtesy, a single chance to back out in case he’d stumbled in by mistake.

　　He answered without a trace of hesitation. “Enter.”

　　With his word, his vision dissolved into white.

　　Flash!

　　The world bleached away, his body seized by an invisible force, pulling him inward. It was familiar. Login. It was the same command he’d utter while lying in his gaming capsule, the same otherworldly sensation that followed. The similarity was comforting, and a smile touched his lips.

　　Not bad. That was his first impression.

　　"GRRR!"

　　His first dungeon raid had begun.

* * *