The fog in Midnight Hollow didn’t just obscure the view; it felt like a physical weight. It was a thick, grey soup that clung to the skin and seeped into the lungs, leaving a metallic taste in the mouth. Every breath felt like pulling water into the chest, and with every step, the air seemed to thicken, dragging a relentless, heavy drowsiness over the mind.
Midnight Hollow, Gate #402, was a lottery win in the most literal sense. It wasn’t a high-difficulty dungeon—most of the monsters were weak, barely worth the effort of a sword swing. But the “Night-Walkers” that roamed the Hollow dropped rare materials that could fetch a fortune on the market. Only four teams of five were allowed entry per month. If you won the ticket, you were in; if you failed to clear it or got kicked out, you didn’t get another shot at the lottery for six months. For most hunters, that was half a year of missed profit.
Hana stepped carefully, her boots crunching on the damp, charcoal-colored soil. She kept her rifle held tight, her eyes scanning the grey void. Behind her, the party was falling apart.
The silence was broken by a heavy thud.
Hana stopped and looked back. One of the vanguard hunters had collapsed, his armor clanking as he hit the dirt. He didn’t even groan; he was simply gone, his breathing slowing into a deep, unnatural sleep.
“Get up! For the love of god, wake up!” the party leader barked.
The leader, a man named Kang, had once been a decent strategist. But the lottery win had twisted him. He didn’t see the mission as a team effort; he saw the rare drops as his personal jackpot, and he viewed the other four members as mere tools to help him claim it.
“I… I can’t,” another party member muttered. He was leaning heavily against a jagged rock, his eyelids drooping. He looked like he had just woken up from a ten-hour sleep, yet he looked more exhausted than ever. “The drowsiness… it’s hitting harder than the last run. I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“Stop whining!” Kang snapped. He stepped toward the man, his face twisted in a sneer. “We are in the Hollow! Do you know how many people would kill for this ticket? You’re not tired; you’re just lazy.”
“He’s not lazy, Kang. The fog is just thick today,” Hana said, her voice calm.
Kang turned to her, his eyes bloodshot and greedy. He didn’t care about the logistics; he only cared about the prize. “Listen, Hana. You’re the scout. Do your job. Get ahead of us, scout the perimeter, and find that monster. Pin it down and call us. I’m the one who won the ticket, so I’m the one taking the credit for the kill. Now move!”
Hana didn’t argue. She had learned long ago that arguing with Kang was a waste of stamina. She just shifted her weight, wondering why she felt so strange. The fog was swirling around her, pressing in from all sides, but the oppressive weight the others were feeling seemed to slide right off her. While the others were fighting for every breath, Hana felt an odd, lingering clarity.
“I’m going,” Hana said quietly.
“About time!” Kang shouted. He turned back to the remaining party member, who was now swaying on his feet. “And you! If you fall asleep, I’m deducting your share of the loot for being a liability.”
“I’m trying…” the man whispered, his voice trailing off. “I just… need a second…”
“You don’t have a second! Move your—”
Kang’s voice cut off abruptly. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed face-first into the dirt, his heavy armor hitting the ground with a resounding crash. A second later, the other party member followed, falling beside him like a puppet with its strings cut.
A soft, shimmering light suddenly enveloped them both. It was the dungeon’s automatic expulsion mechanism. Because they had succumbed to the “sleep” status effect, they were no longer fit to remain. In a flash of white light, they vanished, teleported back to the entrance.
Hana stopped and looked back at the empty space where her team had been. The sudden silence of the Hollow rushed in to fill the void, leaving her standing alone in the grey mist. She looked at the empty ground, then back toward the heart of the dungeon.
For the first time in a year, she felt a strange sense of relief.
Hana stood alone in the grey silence. She didn’t move for a moment, listening to the sound of her own breathing. It was a strange sensation; the fog was still there, thick and oppressive, but the panic that usually accompanied the “sleep” status effect was missing. She felt an odd, lingering vitality, a clarity that should have been impossible in a place designed to drain the will.
She let out a long, slow sigh, the sound swallowed by the mist.
Carefully, she began to move, keeping her steps light. She avoided the deeper patches of fog, weaving through the charcoal-colored trees of the Hollow. She wasn’t looking for a fight—most of the monsters here were low-rank pests—but she kept her rifle held tight, her eyes scanning for any sign of movement. Every step was a calculation. She had to preserve her stamina; if she pushed too hard, the drowsiness might finally catch up to her.
As she walked, her mind drifted.
Hana had been a hunter for a while now, and her reputation as a scout was solid. Scouting was a specialized role; not many people had the patience or the instinct for it. She had received plenty of offers from other teams over the last few months. They wanted her eyes, her precision, and her ability to read a dungeon’s flow.
But she had stayed with Kang’s team.
She remembered joining them nearly a year ago. Back then, Kang had been a different man. He was a competent leader, fair with the loot, and genuinely cared about the safety of his party. He had a vision for the team, and Hana had believed in it. For a few months, they had worked in sync, clearing dungeons with an efficiency that had made them a rising star in their guild.
But the shift had happened slowly, then all at once.
As the money started rolling in—big wins from high-rank drops and successful raids—Kang’s personality had warped. The humility was replaced by an insatiable greed. He stopped seeing his teammates as partners and started seeing them as employees. He began taking a larger cut of the loot, claiming “management fees” for his leadership. He became demanding, moody, and increasingly arrogant.
I can’t do this anymore, she thought, her grip tightening on her rifle.
She had reached a breaking point. The thought of another six months under Kang’s thumb felt more exhausting than the fog of the Hollow. She considered quitting the team, and maybe the guild entirely. The problem was, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to be a hunter anymore.
In this world, being a hunter was the gold standard. It meant a steady income, social status, and the ability to provide for one’s family. It was the dream for most. But for Hana, the dream had started to feel like a chore. The stress, the danger, and the toxicity of the political games within the guilds were starting to outweigh the thrill of the dive.
She climbed a jagged rock formation, positioning herself at a higher vantage point to get a better view of the terrain. As she reached the summit, she looked out over the grey expanse.
A sudden, unexpected image flashed in her mind: Jun.
She pictured him behind the counter at CheckPoint, his expression calm and focused as he whisked that fluffy coffee. She imagined a life like his—stable, quiet, and away from the chaos of the gates. She wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to work side-by-side with him.
I could just be a staff member, she daydreamed. I could spend my days making coffee and chatting with the regulars. No more gear, no more monsters, no more greedy leaders.
She could almost imagine it: the smell of fresh beans, the sound of the shop’s chime, and Jun’s quiet, steady presence beside her. The thought brought a warmth to her chest that had nothing to do with the weather.
Hana felt her cheeks flush. She quickly shook her head, trying to clear the daydream. She was a C-rank hunter, a promising DPS and scout. She couldn’t just throw it all away for a job at a convenience store.
And yet, the thought lingered.
She checked her watch. 4:00 AM.
The sun would be rising soon. In a few hours, the gates of Midnight Hollow would shut, and anyone remaining inside would be forcibly ejected. The window of opportunity was closing.
Hana shifted her gaze, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the fog. Suddenly, her scouting skill triggered. A sharp, intuitive ping echoed in her mind, pointing her toward a specific direction.
About two hundred yards away, hidden behind a veil of thick mist, something was moving.
Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t a low-rank pest. The energy signature was distinct, shimmering with a pale, ghostly light.
It was the special monster. The reason for the lottery. The reason for the greed.
Hana didn’t smile, but a spark of focus returned to her eyes. She slowly lowered herself from the rock, her movements fluid and silent. She wasn’t just a scout; she was a sniper. And for the first time in this raid, she had the perfect shot.
Hana dropped from the rock, landing with a soft thud on the damp soil. She didn’t rush. In the Hollow, panic was as dangerous as the fog. She moved in a low crouch, her eyes locked on the shimmering distortion in the mist.
As she closed the distance, the creature came into view. It was a Night-Walker—a spindly, ethereal beast that looked like a cross between a deer and a ghost. Its skin was translucent, pulsing with a pale, iridescent light that cast long, flickering shadows against the grey fog. It moved with an eerie, floating grace, its hooves barely touching the ground.
Hana’s pulse quickened. She had read about these creatures. They were the crown jewels of the Hollow, and their cores were worth more than a year’s salary for a low-rank hunter.
She didn’t fire. Not yet.
Hana slid behind a thick, blackened trunk of a dead tree, her movements fluid and silent. She slowly brought her sniper rifle up, the cold metal of the trigger guard pressing against her finger. She breathed out, slowing her heart rate, her gaze focused on the beast.
She scanned the surrounding area, her scouting skill pushing her perception to the limit. She searched for other hunters, for the tell-tale shimmer of another party’s gear, or the sound of a distant footstep.
Nothing.
The radius was clear. The other three teams had either fallen asleep or had already been purged from the dungeon. She was the only soul left in this sector of the Hollow.
Hana settled into her position, her cheek pressed against the stock of the rifle. She knew the Night-Walker’s habit. They didn’t stay in motion; every few minutes, they would pause, hovering in place as they absorbed the ambient mana of the fog. They would drift, then stop, waiting in a state of suspended animation.
She waited.
The monster drifted closer, its ghostly light pulsing like a slow, rhythmic heartbeat. It floated toward a patch of iridescent moss, its movements slowing.
Now.
The moment the creature stopped, Hana squeezed the trigger.
The rifle kicked back against her shoulder with a sharp, powerful snap. A single, high-velocity round tore through the fog, a streak of silver light that sliced through the air.
The bullet hit the Night-Walker square in the head.
The creature didn’t even have time to shriek. Its head snapped back, and its body shattered into a thousand shimmering shards of light, collapsing into a heap of glowing crystals and a single, pulsing core.
Suddenly, a translucent system window flickered into existence in front of Hana’s eyes.
[Dungeon Cleared: Midnight Hollow #402] [Reward: Rare Material ‘Night-Walker Core’ acquired]
Hana stared at the screen, her breath hitching. She checked her watch. 4:50 AM.
She had ten minutes left before sunrise.
Another window popped up, displaying the final results of the raid. Her eyes widened as she saw the “Dungeon Clearing List.” Usually, this list was crowded with the names of the party that had dealt the final blow.
But there was only one name on the list.
[Clearer: Lee Hana]
She was the sole survivor. The sole clearer.
As the adrenaline began to fade, Hana leaned back against the tree, looking at the glowing core on the ground. She felt a strange sense of confusion. The fog was still thick, and she could see the grey mist swirling around her boots, but she didn’t feel the crushing fatigue that should have hit her the moment the monster died.
In fact, she felt better than she had in weeks. Her mind was sharp, her body felt light, and the lingering vitality in her veins was almost electric.
Why am I not tired? she wondered.
She didn’t have an answer. She didn’t know about the divine whim of a fox goddess or the low-cost blessing that had just settled into her soul. All she knew was that for the first time in a long time, she felt truly awake.
A soft, white light began to emanate from the ground beneath her feet. The dungeon’s time limit had expired.
Hana picked up the glowing core, clutching it tight to her chest, and let the light swallow her. As she was teleported out of the Hollow, one thought occupied her mind: she couldn’t wait to see the look on Kang’s face when he found out she had cleared the dungeon alone.