Ray woke up to the smell of something warm and savory, mixed with the soft clinking of metal. It took him a moment to remember where he was.
As he slowly opened his eyes, an unfamiliar ceiling greeted him—plain white with a faint crack near the corner. He sat up on the couch, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
In the small open kitchen just a few steps away, Dianne was moving gracefully between the stove and the counter, humming softly as she cooked. The sizzling of a pan filled the air, along with the mouthwatering scent of something being fried.
Ray blinked a few times, still not fully awake, but the cozy aroma and the sight of Dianne in her apron made the morning feel strangely peaceful.
Ray got up from the couch, stretching slightly as he walked toward the kitchen.
"Good morning," he said, his voice still a bit hoarse from sleep.
Dianne glanced over her shoulder with a smile. "Oh, you're up. Morning."
She flipped something in the frying pan with practiced ease. "Hope the couch wasn't too rough on you."
"It was fine," Ray replied. "Better than a park bench."
She laughed softly. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. Breakfast's almost ready. Sit down—I made enough for two."
Ray nodded, a little surprised but quietly grateful.
After washing his face, he returned to the couch and sat quietly, waiting.
"Are you heading to the dungeon again today?"
Dianne asked, trying to spark a conversation as she kept cooking.
"Yeah," he replied simply.
The room fell silent again, save for the gentle clatter of cooking utensils and the sizzling from the pan.
Ray felt a pang of guilt. Dianne was always the one trying to bridge the gap—always the one to start a conversation back at the café. And no matter how short or dry his responses were, she never gave up.
It wasn't that he disliked her. In truth, he appreciated it—appreciated her. He just didn't know how to respond. Every time he tried to think of something to say, doubt crept in.
Would it even matter to her?
Does this have anything to do with her?
Would she even care?
He didn't want the conversation to become awkward. And yet, he realized that his short answers only made things more awkward.
So instead of risking it, he said nothing. It was easier that way.
There were times he wondered how simple things might be if he could just say whatever was on his mind. But no matter how much he pushed himself, the words never seemed to come out.
But today… today might be different.
He was supposed to meet his new party later this morning. It wasn't just another dungeon run—this was a chance to do something he'd never done before: work with others, rely on them, be relied on.
If he was going to change, it had to start somewhere.
Maybe it could start here.
"...Actually, just last night, I got accepted into a party."
Ray forced the words out, unsure if they sounded strange or stiff, but at least he said them.
Dianne glanced over her shoulder, still stirring the pan.
"Oh yeah?"
She smiled to herself, her voice light but genuinely pleased.
"That's cool. About time someone noticed you."
Ray rubbed his arm, unsure how to respond to that.
"It's just a group for skill-less explorers. Nothing special."
Dianne let out a short laugh. "Sounds like a perfect fit, then."
Ray looked up, and she shot him a teasing smirk before turning back to the stove.
"I mean that in a good way. You've been doing this solo for how long? It'll be nice to have some backup, yeah?"
"Yeah," Ray said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smile. "I guess it will."
"Good," she said, plating the food. "Now eat up. You need some energy to explore the dungeon."
As they ate together, Ray made an effort to start a conversation—something he rarely did. In the process, he learned more about Dianne than he ever had during their short exchanges at the café. She worked two jobs: a bookstore during the day and the café in the evening. It surprised him how much she juggled on a daily basis, yet she never seemed worn down by it. There was a calm steadiness in her, a kind of quiet resilience that Ray hadn't noticed before. Even with such a busy schedule, she still found time to check on others—like him. It made him feel a little guilty for always keeping his distance, but also strangely grateful. For once, he was glad he had asked.
"Good luck with your new party. And be careful."
"Yeah. Good luck with your work too."
Ray left the apartment with a new sense of resolve. This time, he wanted to change. He wanted to try being more open, maybe even cheerful. He didn't want to end up isolating himself again, like he had at his old job. This was a new beginning—and he was ready to take the first step forward.
Ray walked another half hour to reach the dungeon city.
With the meeting set for 10 o'clock, he still had some time to spare.
He headed to the Guild first, returning his tent to the locker and retrieving his gear—his trusted short sword and a well-worn bag for dungeon exploration.
Realizing it had been a while since he last maintained his weapon, Ray made his way to a nearby blacksmith shop.
After dropping off his sword for maintenance, he stopped by a convenience store to buy a few bottles of water and a sandwich for later.
Now standing in front of the store, Ray watched as the crowd began to swell—explorers, merchants, and support staff all moving with purpose as the dungeon city came to life.
He found an empty bench nearby and sat down. Taking out his phone, he opened the Dungeon Explorer app and tapped on the party menu.
There was only one sentence on the notice board: "Skill-less Assemble!"
Ray tapped on the 'Member' option.
BrokenRoomba (Leader) – LV 21
Rexiiiiiiiin – LV 14
NeedGOTHMomma7 – LV 14
Ray – LV 6
NPC1500 – LV 5
Ray blinked as he scanned the list.
…I'm the only one using my real name.
Everyone else had strange usernames, the kind people usually used online to hide behind or have fun with. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of people were behind names like "BrokenRoomba" or "NeedGOTHMomma7."
His eyes paused on the leader—LV 21. That was significantly higher than the others.
How long has he been doing this? Ray wondered.
Despite the group's "skill-less" label, it looked like the leader had some serious dungeon experience.
Ray tap his name to check his status.
Ray tapped on the leader's name to check their status.
BrokenRoomba
LV 21
STR: 84
VIT: 63
AGI: 21
MGC: 10
STR Growth rate: 4
VIT Growth rate: 3
AGI Growth rate: 1
MGC Growth rate: 0.5
Ray's eyes widened in surprise when he saw the numbers.
That's insane…
He'd read somewhere that the estimation of an average adult human had stats around 25. So having 25 STR meant being about twice as strong as a regular person. BrokenRoomba's 84 STR wasn't just strong—it was superhuman. And with 63 VIT, they probably had the endurance of a tank.
Ray knew there were already people who had reached the 100 stat threshold, but those were usually high-level explorers with powerful skills. For someone without any skill, and with growth rates of 4 in STR and 3 in VIT, BrokenRoomba was a true exception.
Ray check the other members.
Ray checked the other members.
Rexiiiiiiiin
LV 14
STR: 19
VIT: 11
AGI: 33
MGC: 49
STR Growth Rate: 1.4
VIT Growth Rate: 0.8
AGI Growth Rate: 2.4
MGC Growth Rate: 3.5
MGC was the stat related to skills—the higher it was, the more effective one's skills became. Unfortunately, for someone without any skills, it was essentially useless.
Even so, Ray couldn't help but respect this person's dedication. Reaching this level, despite knowing that their high MGC wouldn't help them, showed real perseverance.
NeedGOTHMomma7
LV 14
STR: 7
VIT: 84
AGI: 16.8
MGC: 23.8
STR Growth Rate: 0.5
VIT Growth Rate: 6
AGI Growth Rate: 1.2
MGC Growth Rate: 1.7
Ray blinked. Eighty-four VIT? That was almost as shocking as BrokenRoomba's 84 STR.
While their strength was abysmally low, their vitality was off the charts. With a growth rate of 6, they probably soaked up damage like a sponge. A walking shield, maybe. Someone who could take a direct hit from a monster and barely flinch.
And lastly, Ray checked the party member with the lowest level.
NPC1500
LV 5
STR: 20
VIT: 20
AGI: 20
MGC: 20
STR Growth Rate: 4
VIT Growth Rate: 4
AGI Growth Rate: 4
MGC Growth Rate: 4
"...Is this fake?"
Ray stared at the screen, stunned.
Getting all 4s in growth rate was almost mythical. Stats were assigned randomly the moment someone stepped into a dungeon for the first time—no rerolls, no tweaking, no second chances. Most people ended up with imbalanced growth, forcing them to work around their weaknesses. But this... this was perfection. A perfectly even spread with top-tier potential across the board.
It didn't even seem fair.
Ray couldn't imagine being that lucky. Compared to that, his own stats felt painfully average.
He glanced back at the party list. Every member had something—high levels, overwhelming strength, insane growth potential.
And then there was him.
Level 6. No skills. Mediocre stats. Nothing special.
Suddenly, a notification popped up in the party chat.
BrokenRoomba:
Otw to the meeting spot now. See you guys soon! 😁👍
Ray stared at the message for a second, feeling a strange mix of nerves and anticipation settle in his chest. This was really happening.
He stood up from the bench, pocketed his phone, and made his way back to the blacksmith shop to pick up his sword. The familiar weight of the blade in his hand gave him a small sense of comfort—something solid to hold onto.
With his gear ready, Ray adjusted the strap on his bag and began walking toward the meeting place.
He felt strangely nervous—like he was heading into some kind of important job interview. His palms were slightly sweaty, and his heart thudded a little faster with each step.
On the way there, his mind kept spinning in circles, racking through possible things to say when he arrived. How should he introduce himself? Should he crack a joke? Keep it simple?
He'd already made up his mind—he was going to change. No more hiding behind silence. No more short, awkward replies. This was his chance to start over, to communicate better, to connect with others.
Even if it was messy at first, he had to try.
As he got closer to the meeting spot, the anxiety became harder to ignore. His chest felt tight, and doubt gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. What if he disappointed them? What if they realized he didn't belong?
He wasn't even wearing armor—just his usual outfit: a simple shirt and long pants chosen more for mobility than protection. It made him feel exposed, out of place.
Up until now, he'd only hunted boars—low-threat monsters that roamed the first floor of the dungeon. But with a full party like this, they were probably aiming to go deeper, where stronger monsters and greater risks awaited. The kind of run that actually yielded valuable loot.
He swallowed hard. Was he ready for that? Would he hold them back?
"I can do it. I can change."
Ray quietly told himself, almost like a mantra. The words felt small, but steady—something to hold onto.
Surprisingly, it helped. The weight in his chest eased just a little, his steps felt a bit more sure. He wasn't completely ready… but he was closer than before.
He finally arrived.
It was a well-known café in the heart of Dungeon City—popular among explorers and adventurers. The message from earlier had been clear: the leader would be waiting at a table near the stairs to the second floor.
The moment Ray stepped inside, a wave of chatter and clinking cups washed over him. The place was already crowded. Adventurers in armor, guild staff, and even a few merchants filled the tables, their voices overlapping in a low hum of energy and excitement.
Ray had never been here before. Crowded places like this weren't his thing. He preferred quiet corners, meals alone, away from too many eyes and too much noise. Being here now made his chest tighten a little—but he forced himself to take a breath and move forward.
Ray scanned the café, looking for the stairs. Looking for them.
He spotted the staircase near the corner—just like the message had said—and his gaze landed on a nearby table. Four people sat there, chatting casually. They looked like adventurers: a mix of gear, casual clothing, and confident postures.
That must be them, he thought.
With a breath to steel himself, Ray walked up to the table, forcing a cheerful smile.
"Hi everyone! I thought I would be early here!" he said, trying to sound upbeat, just like he practiced in his head.
They all looked at him.
"...Do you need something from us?" one of them asked, clearly puzzled.
Ray blinked. That wasn't the response he was expecting. He felt his smile falter a little.
"Oh. I'm Ray, by the way."
There was a short silence.
"Um. Sure, Ray. Nice to meet you. So… what is it?" another replied, polite but confused. The rest just exchanged glances, eyebrows raised.
Ray's heart dropped as realization hit him like a brick to the chest.
This isn't them.
His face stiffened as embarrassment crept in like a slow burn.
Suddenly, Ray felt a tap on his shoulder.
"You're Ray, right?"
He turned around and saw a woman standing behind him. She had sharp eyes, black hair tied in a high ponytail, and wore well-fitted gear clearly meant for dungeon exploring—light armor, reinforced gloves, a compact backpack. She looked like she knew exactly what she was doing.
"Yeah. That's me," Ray replied, a little relieved.
"Follow me."
Before he did, Ray turned back to the group of confused adventurers.
"Sorry, looks like I got the wrong person."
One of them chuckled, waving a hand.
"It's okay, don't worry about it."
Ray gave an apologetic nod, then quickly followed the woman, trying not to let the heat in his cheeks show.
They walked toward a table where another woman was already seated—clearly younger than Ray, probably around Rena's age. As soon as she saw him, she gave him an intense glare, like she was trying to read every detail about him.
Ray hesitated, but then the woman with the ponytail took her seat. Ray and the younger girl locked eyes for a moment. There was a long, tense silence… until the girl suddenly burst out laughing.
"Ahahahahaha!!"
Ray sighed. He already knew exactly what she was laughing at.
"Laugh as much as you want."
"Don't blame me!" she said between fits of laughter. "If you could've seen your own face when you realized you had the wrong table, you'd be laughing too!"
Ray rubbed the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed, but deep down—he was kind of glad they were at least this easygoing.
Ray didn't mind being the fool of the group—if anything, it took some of the pressure off. If laughing at him helped ease the tension, then maybe it wasn't such a bad start.
He gave a small, lopsided smile.
As long as it helped break the ice.
The girl grinned, wiping a tear from her eyes.
Ray found her kind of annoying—her laugh was loud, her energy a little too much for him so early in the day. But strangely, he didn't actually hate her.
Maybe it was because she felt genuine. Unfiltered. The kind of person who said what was on her mind without holding back.
It was the opposite of him. And maybe that's why he didn't mind it.
Ray took the seat across from them, trying his best to look relaxed—though his hands were still a little tense on his lap.
"So," he began, glancing between the two girls. "Which one of you is the leader? No, wait…" His eyes shifted back to the younger one, who was still smirking.
"It's definitely not you."
The girl raised an eyebrow, amused. "Wow. Judging me already, huh?"
Ray shrugged lightly. "Just a guess."
"But I'm actually the leader," the girl said smugly, flashing a grin.
"She's lying," the calm woman beside her said flatly, cutting her off before Ray could even respond. Her voice was composed, almost soothing. "Do you want to order something? Don't worry about the bill."
"You're no fun, Liz," the girl pouted, slumping back in her seat.
The woman turned to Ray with a small smile. "Oh—my name is Elisa. My nickname comes from my cat, Rexi."
"I'm Ray," he introduced himself with a slight nod. "I'm okay for now. If you want to order something, don't mind me."
He tried to decline her offer politely.
"It's okay. Just order a drink or something while we wait for the other two," Elisa replied gently.
"Don't ignore me!" the girl across from them cut in, clearly annoyed by being left out of the conversation.
Ray gave a small chuckle and glanced back at Elisa. "If you don't mind, then I'll have a chocolate sundae."
"Oh! It's nice to meet someone with similar taste," the girl said, suddenly perking up—then froze when she heard his next words.
"I changed my mind. I'll go with the strawberry sundae instead," Ray said, keeping a straight face.
Her eyes widened in mock betrayal. "Hey! Are you messing with me?!"
Ray gave the faintest hint of a smirk.
Elisa chuckled softly, clearly amused by the interaction.
Suddenly, two men approached their table.
One of them was tall and broad-shouldered, clad in reinforced leather armor with steel plating over his chest and shoulders. A massive greatsword was strapped across his back, and his short-cropped brown hair, along with his confident posture, gave off the impression of a reliable frontliner.
The other man had a lean, composed presence. He wore a sleek, dark combat jacket over lightweight armor—practical and easy to move in. His blonde hair was neatly styled, and his gear was clean, well-maintained, and clearly chosen with care.
They stopped at the table.
"Yo. This the Skill-less Assemble meeting?" the taller one asked with a grin.
Ray, who feels a little bit overwhelmed by his presence nodded. "Yeah. I'm Ray."
The blonde man gave a calm nod. "Leon. I go by NeedGOTHMomma7."
Ray couldn't believe himself that there's actually someone would confidently said those nickname outloud. Not to mention, a handsome guy like him.
"Oh. Nice to meet you."
"And I'm BrokenRoomba!" the other one added proudly, giving a thumbs-up. "Most just call me Roomba."
He let out a hearty laugh that turned a few heads in the café.
And just like that, the party was finally together.