The soft glow of the television illuminated the darkened room.
Jin Seok-woo sat on the edge of his bed, still wearing his gear from the D-rank Rift. His muscles ached, his hands were still stained with blood despite the shower he'd taken. The lingering scent of ash and iron clung faintly to his skin.
He exhaled slowly, staring at the screen without fully seeing it—until the headline flashed in bold red letters:
Breaking News: Rift Outbreak in Central Seoul
His eyes sharpened instantly.
The reporter's voice trembled slightly as live footage played: a jagged, swirling Rift had torn open in the heart of Seoul's business district. People screamed as monstrous shapes spilled through the tear. Emergency response units scrambled. Explosions lit the streets as Apostles engaged the creatures pouring from the anomaly.
Seok-woo's heartbeat quickened.
This wasn't a scheduled Rift.
A Rift Break—one of the worst possible scenarios.
He rose without hesitation. His hand drifted to the hilt of his newly purchased Worn Iron Dagger resting on the table.
"No time to rest," he murmured.
The city streets were chaos.
Sirens wailed. Distant screams echoed between the high-rise towers. Civilians fled in every direction as Apostles and Hunter guilds scrambled to form a defensive perimeter.
The air was thick with tension and the stench of blood.
Seok-woo moved swiftly through the back alleys, his breath steady, his steps light. He wasn't registered to help—not officially. But he couldn't sit still while people died.
As he neared the epicenter, he saw them:
The first wave of monsters—Fleshbores—bulky, eyeless creatures with jaws that split from ear to ear. Their movements were erratic, frenzied, driven by pure hunger.
The first Apostle squad engaged them with practiced efficiency, but the monsters kept coming.
Seok-woo's eyes narrowed.
I'm faster.
He darted forward.
"Quickstep!"
The world blurred. In the span of heartbeats, he was inside the fray, his Predator's Instinct flaring. His senses sharpened. Every motion, every breath, every attack came fluidly. His dagger slashed, pierced, and severed throats before the creatures could react.
One down. Then two. Then five.
System notifications flickered in his mind:
[+15 EXP]
[Credits +10]
His breathing was calm. Efficient. Cold.
He kept moving.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted her—Seo Ara—commanding her team with quiet authority. Her silver hair gleamed under the emergency lights as she cleaved through enemies without hesitation. Their eyes met for a brief instant—but Seok-woo vanished before she could speak.
He didn't want recognition.
He didn't need it.
Then the ground rumbled.
From the heart of the Rift emerged something far worse: a towering Rift-Touched Brute, its molten eyes glowing, its flesh twisted into armor-like plates.
The other Apostles hesitated. Fear rippled through their ranks.
Seok-woo's grip tightened on his dagger.
He stepped forward.
I won't run.
Even without a god—I will fight.
As the monstrous Brute roared, Seok-woo launched himself into the chaos once more.