The world changed fifty years ago.
Dungeons—portals to another dimension—appeared across every country. From them poured out monsters that ravaged cities and devoured thousands. It took years before humanity could respond. But eventually, with the birth of "hunters," humanity began to fight back.
Crystals from within dungeons became powerful energy sources, and monster corpses were harvested to craft weapons, armor, and tools. In time, the economy adapted. Hunter guilds and associations rose to power, and dungeons became places not only of danger—but of opportunity.
Anyone could become a hunter—either by awakening during moments of extreme stress or by passing a government-issued exam. But not all awakenings were equal. While a C-rank hunter could earn a small fortune, F-rank hunters… well, they were barely better than ordinary people.
And I was one of them.
Name: Lee Jun. Age: 24. Rank: F.
A year ago, I awakened. My skill?
[Tame: Goblin] — a rare ability, sure… but one that was laughably weak. I could tame a goblin. Just one.
It couldn't speak. It was cowardly. And it was weak—so weak that a single punch from a normal hunter would kill it.
Still… I had no choice.
To survive, I became a porter. I followed other hunters into low-level dungeons, carrying their bags, retrieving loot, and dodging monsters. My goblin helped carry equipment. Sometimes, if we got lucky, it would scavenge crystals or herbs left behind by careless hunters.
But every time we left the dungeon… the goblin had to stay behind.
It couldn't exit the portal with me.
And every time, it died.
I tamed a new one. Again. And again. And again. Dozens of goblins died that year.
But I never gave up.
Because I knew—somewhere deep inside—that my power wasn't useless. That if I kept going, I would find a way to make it work.
That belief was the only thing keeping me from giving up.
Until one day… something changed.