The entrance to the Slime Caverns didn't look like a mythical gateway to adventure. It looked like a subway station during rush hour, if the commuters were heavily armed mercenaries.
Lin stood at the edge of the Dungeon Plaza, adjusting the strap of his cheap canvas backpack. The massive glowing vortex of the E-Rank Dungeon swirled in the center of the square, flanked by armed Federation guards and automated turret drones.
A holographic warning sign floated above the gate:
[ DANGER: E-RANK ZONE ]
[ RESTRICTION: F-Rank Hunters are prohibited from Solo Entry. ]
[ Minimum Party Size: 4 ]
"Looking for a Healer! Level 5+! 10% loot split!"
"Tank needed! Must have at least 300 HP! Iron Wall Guild recruiting!"
The air was filled with shouts, the clank of armor, and the smell of ozone and cheap tobacco. This was the economy of Sector 7. Monster cores, slime jelly, and dungeon moss flowed out; blood and ambition flowed in.
Lin checked his reflection in a shop window. He wore a grey hoodie over a cheap leather chest protector he'd bought from a second-hand bin. His new Recurve Bow was wrapped in cloth, strapped to the side of his pack to avoid drawing attention.
He looked generic. Unremarkable. Just another F-Ranker trying to scrape by.
He needed a team. Not to fight with—he couldn't trust anyone with his secret yet—but just to get past the guards. He needed to be a "valid party member" on paper.
He walked up to a group of three Hunters standing near a supply kiosk. They looked decent—a Knight, a Ranger, and a Mage.
"Excuse me," Lin said, keeping his voice low. "Are you looking for a fourth? I have a license."
The Knight, a burly man with a scar running down his chin, scanned Lin's ID card.
"F-Rank. Class: Archer," the Knight read aloud. He looked at Lin's frame. "Base stats?"
"Constitution 10. Agility 15," Lin lied smoothly. He couldn't say his real stats. "I have my own bow."
The Knight laughed, handing the card back. "Kid, Constitution 10 means you have 200 HP. The Acid Slimes inside deal 40 damage per hit. One bad positioning and you're dead, and then we're down a man. We need a real DPS, not a liability. Beat it."
Lin took the card back without a word. He didn't argue. He didn't feel humiliated. He just calculated the probability. Standard parties want efficiency. I need to find the desperate ones.
He moved to the seedier side of the plaza, where the freelance "Mercenary" groups hung out. These were the teams that didn't belong to Guilds. They were high-risk, high-mortality squads that took the jobs no one else wanted.
That was where he saw them.
[ Viper Squad ]
There were four of them sitting on crates.
The leader was a Warrior with a jagged greatsword. His armor was mismatched—one shoulder pad was steel, the other leather. He had the look of a man who enjoyed violence a little too much.
Beside him was a Rogue playing with a butterfly knife, a Mage smoking a suspicious-looking cigarette, and a female Priestess who looked bored out of her mind.
"Looking for a porter?" Lin asked, stopping in front of the leader.
The leader, whose interface tagged him as Vane (Level 6 Warrior), looked Lin up and down.
"We aren't a babysitting service," Vane spat. "We don't split loot with trash."
"No loot split," Lin said calmly. "I'll carry the supplies and the drops. I'll dismantle the corpses. Flat fee. 500 Credits."
Vane paused. 500 was cheap. A Guild-certified porter usually charged 2,000 plus a 5% cut.
"And," Lin added, dropping the hook, "if you need someone to check for traps or pull aggro... I'll do it. I'm fast."
The Rogue stopped spinning his knife. "A bait?" He grinned, revealing yellow teeth. "You got a death wish, kid?"
"I have a debt," Lin lied. "I need the credits today."
Vane exchanged a look with his team. A meat shield that carried their bags and cost almost nothing? It was free money. If the kid died, they didn't even have to pay him.
"500 Credits," Vane said, standing up. He towered over Lin. "But you walk in front. If you steal a single copper coin, I'll cut your hands off before the monsters get you."
"Deal," Lin said.
[ System Alert: You have joined the party "Viper Squad". ]
Lin accepted the invite. He could see their health bars now on the party interface.
Vane (Warrior): 520 / 520 HP
Rat (Rogue): 280 / 280 HP
Silas (Mage): 180 / 180 HP
Mira (Priest): 210 / 210 HP
Lin suppressed a smirk.
The "tank" of the team, the big bad Warrior, had 520 HP.
Lin, the "trash" porter, had 778 HP.
He was physically tougher than their entire backline combined.
"Load up," Vane kicked a heavy canvas sack toward Lin. It was filled with potions, rations, and spare camping gear. It weighed at least 40 kilograms.
Lin hoisted it onto his shoulders. With his Strength 8, it was heavy, straining his back, but manageable. He didn't complain. He adjusted his stance, playing the part of the struggling weakling.
"Let's move," Vane barked.
They walked toward the glowing vortex. The Federation guards checked their IDs. Seeing a full party of five, they waved them through, though the guard gave Lin a pitying look—the look reserved for cannon fodder.
Lin stepped into the light.
A sensation of weightlessness hit him, followed by a sharp drop in temperature.
[ Entering Dungeon: The Slime Caverns (E-Rank) ]
[ Environmental Effect: Dampness (Agility -1 for non-adapted entities) ]
The world shifted. The concrete plaza was replaced by damp, jagged rock walls. The air smelled of mold and vinegar. Phosphorescent moss covered the ceiling, casting a sickly green light over the tunnel.
"Formation!" Vane ordered. "Kid, you're on point. Ten meters ahead. If you see something jiggle, scream."
Lin nodded and walked ahead into the gloom.
He gripped his cheap Recurve Bow. He felt the weight of the party's eyes on his back. To them, he was a walking corpse, a consumable item to be used and discarded.
Perfect, Lin thought.
He scanned the tunnel. His Wisdom 11 picked up the faint vibrations in the ground before the others did.
Squelch. Squelch.
Something was moving around the bend.
[ Monster Identified: Acid Slime (Lv. 3) ]
[ Monster Identified: Acid Slime (Lv. 3) ]
"Contact," Lin whispered, not screaming like a terrified amateur. He stepped back, melting into the shadows against the wall.
Two blobs of translucent green jelly, each the size of a yoga ball, oozed around the corner. Smoke rose from the ground where they slithered—their bodies were acidic enough to etch stone.
"Only two? Easy money," Vane laughed. He drew his greatsword. "Silas, conserve your mana. I'll handle them. Rat, flank right."
Vane charged. "Hah!"
He swung his greatsword in a wide arc. The heavy steel blade slammed into the first slime.
SPLAT.
The impact rippled through the jelly.
[ Damage: 24 (Resisted) ]
The slime barely deformed. Physical attacks against fluid bodies were notoriously ineffective. The slime retaliated, forming a pseudopod that lashed out like a whip.
Vane raised his shoulder guard to block.
HISS.
The acid splashed against the steel, bubbling furiously. Vane grunted, stepping back. "Damn it! These things are thicker than usual! Silas, hit it!"
"Fine," the Mage sighed, raising his staff. "Firebolt!"
A small ball of orange flame shot out, hitting the slime.
[ Damage: 65 ]
The slime shrieked—a high-pitched bubbling sound—but it wasn't dead. It had around 200 HP. At this rate, killing two would take a minute of messy fighting.
Lin watched from the back, holding the heavy supply bag. He saw his opening.
The second slime was ignoring Vane, oozing toward the Priestess, Mira.
"Get it off me!" Mira shrieked, backing away.
"I'm kinda busy here!" Vane shouted, wrestling with the first one.
Lin dropped the bag. "I'll distract it!" he yelled, his voice cracking with feigned panic.
He fumbled with his bow, drawing an arrow. He made his hands shake visibly. He aimed—not at the core, but at the edge of the slime's mass.
"Don't miss, you idiot!" Rat shouted from the shadows.
Lin let the arrow fly.
He triggered [Eternal Hunt].
For a fraction of a second, the arrow didn't look like a piece of wood. It looked like a streak of solidified blood. The Crimson Aura flashed, too fast for the untrained eye to track in the dim green light.
THWIP.
The arrow sliced through the edge of the Green Slime.
It should have passed right through harmlessly.
Instead, the slime convulsed violently.
[ Critical Hit (True Damage) ]
[ Damage: -7.78 ]
It wasn't a huge number. But the reaction was wrong. The slime acted like it had been electrocuted. Its membrane rippled, destabilized by the foreign energy that ignored its physical immunity.
The slime paused, its primitive AI confused by the damage source.
That pause gave Vane enough time to finish the first one and turn around. "Useless archer! Out of the way!"
Vane charged the second slime, smashing it into the ground.
Lin lowered his bow, picking up the supply bag again. He kept his head down, hiding the small smile playing on his lips.
He had confirmed it.
Physical Immunity meant nothing to him.
Defense meant nothing.
And these teammates? They were too busy shouting at each other to notice that the "missed" shot had made the monster flinch in terror.
"Pick up the loot, kid," Vane ordered, kicking the dissolving slime puddle. "And wipe that arrow off. Arrows cost money."
"Yes, sir," Lin said obediently.
He knelt by the goo. He reached in, ignoring the slight sting of the acid, and pulled out a small, pea-sized Slime Core.
He wiped it clean and handed it to Vane.
Then, he went to retrieve his arrow. It was embedded in the rock wall. He pulled it out. The arrowhead was pristine. The blood-energy protected it from the acid.
Lin slotted the arrow back into his quiver.
One arrow used. One arrow recovered.
Cost: 0.
"Move out!" Vane commanded.
Lin shouldered the pack and followed. He stared at the backs of their necks—Vane's exposed nape, the Mage's unarmored spine.
Monsters in the front, Lin thought, his eyes cold. Monsters in the back.
It was going to be a profitable dungeon run.