The System did not arrive with the first Rifts.
No, when the sky tore open for the first time, spilling an unknown darkness onto the streets, humanity was too busy running, screaming, and dying to notice anything else. The Rifts were hell itself, spilled onto Earth, gates spewing creatures that defied all human logic. Deadly beings capable of wiping out an entire city in mere days, against which no human weapon seemed to work.
For seven days, the world was reduced to a single word: survival.
Then, seven days later, the world changed again.
It happened without warning.
A pulse, soundless, yet heavy enough to ripple through the bones. Everyone felt it. Every man, woman, and child still breathing. And then, hanging in the air before them, glowing text appeared for the first time.
They called it The System.
Its messages were cryptic at first, as if speaking in a language meant only for itself. Yet those chosen quickly understood: the System was offering power. Skills, strength, abilities that could turn ordinary people into something… else.
They would later be named Hunters, the only ones capable of entering the Rifts and surviving long enough to strike back at whatever had crossed over.
But the System was never generous without reason. Its rules were absolute, and one of the earliest truths discovered was simple: it only revealed itself within the boundaries of a Rift. Outside, it was silent. No status screens. No mission updates. Only the raw strength the Hunters had earned inside.
It didn't matter. Because the moment that power was granted, it became a part of you. Skills didn't vanish the second you stepped out of a gate. And so, even without the floating text guiding their every move, Hunters carried their abilities into the outside world, shifting the balance of power forever.
Nations scrambled to adapt. Laws changed overnight. Entire economies formed around the existence of the Rifts and those who could clear them. Yet, for all the knowledge humanity gained, the origin of the System remained a mystery.
Was it salvation? A curse? Or something far worse, wearing the mask of opportunity?
No one could answer.
And for some… the question no longer mattered. The only rule was to keep clearing Rifts before the countdown hit zero. Because when a Rift fully broke, there was no containment, no second chance, only slaughter.
***
The small group of survivors moved in a single-file line, the youngest positioned at the very back.
They had quicker reflexes than the older ones, meaning, if something came at them from behind, they'd have the best chance to react first.
Jaemin knew it wasn't an ideal formation, but as the only Hunter present, he had little choice. He'd have to trust the agility of strangers he'd met less than an hour ago and pray none of them froze at a critical moment.
Five had chosen to follow him; three had stayed behind.
Probably the smarter ones, though none of them would ever admit it.
After a few minutes of walking, quiet voices began to stir.
Brief introductions here and there. Nothing that could pass for a proper greeting, this was hardly the time or place for socializing.
Every so often, eyes would drift to the man at the front, the one carrying a boy no older than eight in his arms as if the weight meant nothing.
"I'm Haneul," the boy said suddenly, tilting his head upward. "What's your name, hyung?"
"Han Jaemin." His answer was flat, eyes fixed ahead, not even glancing down.
If Jaemin's personality could be summed up in one trait, it was a complete lack of social skills.
Not that it had always been that way. In fact, strangely enough, in his younger years, Jaemin had been… something of a social butterfly.
There was a time when he could strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere, about anything.
But that time had died along with other things.
These days, he saw no point in talking for more than two minutes, nor did he bother pretending to care about what was said behind his back.
Haneul's grip on his shirt tightened, dragging him out of his thoughts.
"Hyung… are you really going to leave them there? Alone?"
The tunnel curved left. Jaemin's gaze didn't waver.
"No."
The people behind them exchanged quick, curious glances.
"I left a mana shield in place," he continued. "As long as they stay within it, the monsters won't notice them."
Before they'd set out, while the survivors were scavenging debris pulled into the Rift to make makeshift weapons, Jaemin had quietly installed the barrier.
An invisible dome, blocking attacks and keeping hostile creatures out.
"Then why did you say that before?"
"Because the shield weakens with distance. Every step I take makes it more fragile. If I go too far, it breaks. If they stay, they live. If they follow, I can't promise anything. That's why I gave them the choice."
A man behind him cleared his throat. He looked a bit younger than Jaemin, probably mid-twenties, and seized the moment to speak.
"Han-nim… this is really a Rank B Rift? We haven't seen a single monster since the one at the start. And we've been walking for a while now…"
"Before we were pulled in, I caught a glimpse of the portal's color. Orange. The reason we haven't seen anything else is probably because we're closer to the boss room than I thought."
Before entering a Rift, its size and rank could usually be estimated.
The colors of the portals made that easy.
Lower-ranked Rifts had lighter tones, starting from pure white, harmless portals without monsters, filled only with strange, unexplored landscapes humanity still struggled to understand. These closed on their own after breaking, and since they posed no threat, the International Hunter Association (IHA) and local governments classified them as Neutral Rifts, leaving them untouched except for harvesting natural resources.
Higher-ranked Rifts shifted to darker colors: orange, red, and at the very top, black, reserved for Rank S.
But among all Rift types, there was one that completely broke the pattern: the Unknown Rank Rift.
Some civilians called it the Tower of Babel.
Its golden hue was hypnotic, mesmerizing, almost impossible to reconcile with the horrors said to dwell inside.
Not that anyone here, aside from Jaemin, had ever seen anything above Rank B. In truth, the higher the rank, the rarer its appearance on Earth.
In South Korea alone, over the last twenty-five years, there had been roughly three hundred Rank A Rifts, about one per month.
Rank S? On average, once every ten years, totaling only two since the very beginning.
And the Tower of Babel?
It had appeared only once, in the middle of the Sahara Desert.
When it emerged, exactly twenty-five years ago, on the seventh day, the very same day the System appeared, a message was seen floating in the skies across the entire world:
[The Cataclysm]
[230,103 Hours : 17 Minutes : 42 Seconds]
Then, without releasing a single creature, the Rift simply closed on its own, leaving the entire world in stunned silence.
Since that day, it had never opened again.
At the time, Jaemin was only four years old. Of course, he couldn't remember it, but the event had frozen the planet in fear, a phenomenon that left deep scars in history without shedding a drop of blood.
"Han-nim, how close do you think we are to the boss room?"
The question came from a woman marching near the end of the line.
From the quick introductions earlier, he recalled her name was Park Chae-won. She was pretty enough to make him, for a brief moment, wonder if she might be a famous actress or model… until he recalled that none of the others had recognized her.
"Probably on the same floor," he replied.
The group exchanged uneasy glances.
Catching their reaction, Jaemin added:
"Think of Rifts as an upside-down building. The first floor is the entrance, and the lowest basement is the boss room. The higher you are, the more monsters you'll find, because the Rift interprets our presence as an invasion."
"Invasion?" she repeated, frowning.
Jaemin stopped and looked back at her.
"What's the first thing you do when bugs crawl into your home?"
"…Kill them. Quickly."
"Exactly." He started walking again. "Same principle."
"I-I guess that makes sense… I think. What about the floors below?"
"The closer you get to the boss room, the fewer monsters there'll be. But the ones left… are the most dangerous."
"If they're all on the same level as the one we saw earlier, you can handle them… r-right?"
"Hm. That one was a Rank B canid. If it's here, then the Rift's theme is canines. Wolves, pack hunters. The Mauler is a mid-tier. The worst is still ahead."
"…"
Could he handle them? Absolutely.
The real problem was keeping all five of them alive. And even if he managed that, there was no guarantee one of them wouldn't bolt at the worst possible time, breaking formation and putting everyone else at risk.
Jaemin quickened his pace, tightening his hold on the boy in his arms.
'If I were alone, I'd have found the exit by now.'
Not that it would solve much. When Rifts first formed, their gravitational pull was unstable, dragging everything around them inside at random. During that phase, the interior was still rearranging its "rooms." That meant you could be thrown anywhere. Finding the exit could take hours… or days in a Rank B.
Civilians wouldn't last that long; the air here was toxic to the non-Awakened. The safest option was to kill the boss quickly and let the Rift close on its own.
The elderly man right behind Jaemin seemed jittery, as though any shadow could kill him. Even so, he dared to place a hand on the Hunter's shoulder.
"My name is Kim Seonghwan," he said, leaning forward just enough to be heard. "And… Hunter, if you don't mind me asking… what's your rank?"
The others glanced sideways, curious but cautious. No one in their right mind would poke at the beast leading them… apparently, no one except this old man.
Jaemin didn't look back. His eyes stayed fixed ahead. In a Rift, even the smallest distraction could mean a coffin for everyone.
"Not important. Keep quiet and stay in line," he said, curt, his tone making it clear the old man's question wasn't worth answering.
Seonghwan blinked, unable to believe a boy was speaking to him so bluntly. His pride seemed bigger than his survival instinct.
"Not important…? We're inside a Rift, you–"
"Exactly. We're inside a Rift. So shut your mouth and stay in line. Remember, I'm the one killing the monsters, not my rank. That's all you need to know."
Seonghwan's face flushed red, like a pressure cooker about to blow. Whether it was from anger or shame was hard to tell.
"Young people these days… all so damn rude!"
"Sir… please," Park Chae-won stepped in before he could push further. "He may just not want to reveal it. Jaemin-nim is trying to get us out of here."
But Seonghwan saw nothing but bootlickers defending a Hunter who refused to show his record.
"Get us out? He's leading us to our deaths! And you, girl, what do you know? I thought Hunters were required to state their registration the moment there's a conflict!"
"Sir…!" Park Chae-won's tone was firmer this time. "I'm saying he might have a good reason. Please, try to understand."
The old man exhaled an incredulous sigh, as if the very idea offended him. One young brat was bad enough… but now there were two? This had to be a joke.
"And what reason would that be, huh?" he shot back, leaning forward with a sour expression. "Think about it, something your generation struggles with. What reason would a Hunter have to hide his rank? Tell me."
He paused, eyes scanning her face as though challenging her to answer.
"Because I can only think of the illegal ones. All of them."
"W-Well…" Chae-won faltered, searching for words.
The silence that followed almost seemed to invite Jaemin to join the argument, but, as always, he didn't bother. The only sound from him was the quiet scrape of steel against the scabbard as he adjusted the sword at his waist. The same one he'd discreetly pulled from his inventory minutes earlier.
"Unbelievable…" Seonghwan sighed, raising his voice just enough for everyone to hear. "I can't believe I'm going to die here, next to a possible criminal."
A murmur of disapproval ran through the group, but no one was quick enough to tell the man to shut up.
Jaemin didn't respond right away. He simply tilted his chin slightly, as if examining something on the damp wall of the cave.
"If you're going to waste your breath," he finally said, voice cold enough to freeze any reply, "use it to run when I tell you to."
The man's mouth opened, ready to snap back, but Park Chae-won gripped his arm, shaking her head in silence. Better not to push it.
Jaemin stopped abruptly, walking to the end of the line. He crouched down and set Haneul, still in his arms, onto the ground. The boy blinked up at him, confused, just like the rest of the group.
"Stay here. Don't run, don't scream… and absolutely do not split up."
He didn't wait for a response. His hand was already on the hilt, sliding the blade free in one smooth motion. He rolled his wrist, feeling the weight, testing the balance.
It had been over five years since he last held a weapon. There was a chance his reflexes weren't what they used to be… but it wasn't as if he had a choice.
He moved down the tunnel with firm steps until the space opened abruptly. The narrow passage gave way to a wide cavern, the walls lined with moss and dark stains that weren't just moisture.
That's when he heard it.
A strange sound echoed from one of the connecting tunnels, something between a growl and a hyena's laugh, but deeper.
'So… the presence I sensed earlier was you. Guess luck's not on my side today.'
A Hunter's senses were far sharper than any normal human's, and the higher the rank, the more refined they became. Hostile intent, mana flow, subtle movements, everything could be felt from meters away.
[Appraisal – Active]
[Target: Direfang Howler]
[Rank: B]
Alpha-class pack predator. Specializes in endurance hunting and prolonged pursuit. Bones reinforced with mana, capable of withstanding direct strikes from common blades. Jaw pressure strong enough to crush low-grade steel. Always hunts in large packs, using coordinated attacks to corner prey.
[Detected Entities: 18]
💠 Status: High Threat Level
💠 Weak Point: Joint Gaps & Lower Jaw
💠 Recommended Action: Eliminate leaders first to disrupt pack coordination.
"Damn it… I should've stayed in bed today."