Chapter 85 - 85: « Blue Blood [1] »
To keep their sanity from fraying under the oppressive silence of the deep sinkhole, the porters huddled together as they descended the calcified spiral staircase.
They walked far behind the Rankers, their heavy mana-crates creaking rhythmically.
"I'm telling you, this expedition is my way out," Han whispered, his voice tinged with a manic sort of excitement.
He patted the pocket of his reinforced vest where the shimmering gold-and-silver card was tucked away. "Once we clear this dump and I get my settlement bonus, I'm done. I'm going to use this ticket to awaken my sub-class properly. No more hauling crates for S-Rankers who don't even know my name."
"Keep dreaming, kid," Ki-nam, the grizzled veteran of the Iron Aegis porters, grunted. He adjusted the straps on his massive shoulders, his knees popping with a sound like dry twigs. "This all just means the Tower has a bigger target on your back. You think the System gives out 'Golden Opportunities' for free? It's just fattening you up for the slaughter."
"Don't listen to Old Man Gloom over there," Min-ho, the Blue Dragon lead porter, chirped in. "Han's got the luck of the devil. Remember that time in the 'Crystal Caverns' raid? Han accidentally tripped on a loose stone, fell into a hidden crevice, and landed right on top of a sleeping 'Jeweled Serpent.' The thing was worth ten billion won, and he killed it by sitting on its head."
The group let out a collective, weary chuckle. The tension in their shoulders eased just a fraction.
"That's nothing," Hyuk, from Iron Aegis, said, wiping sweat from his brow despite the chill. "Remember the 'Fashion Souls' incident in the Great Labyrinth? We were hauling for that one celebrity Ranker—the one who refuses to wear anything that isn't made of 'Silken Shadow-Drake' hide? We spent six hours in a boss room not fighting, but holding up full-length mirrors and portable vanity lights while he adjusted his cape. The boss, a literal 'Lich King,' just stood there watching us, looking genuinely confused. It eventually just sat down on its throne and waited for the guy to finish his 'aesthetic' check. I've never felt more embarrassed to be a human being."
"The Lich actually waited?" Tae-soo, the youngest Blue Dragon porter, asked with a grin.
"He did," Hyuk sighed. "And then, when the Ranker finally yelled 'I am ready!', the Lich just pointed at his boots and whispered in a voice like grinding stones, 'Those don't match the belt.' The Ranker had a mental breakdown right there. We had to carry him out while the Lich waved goodbye."
The laughter this time was louder, echoing up the bone-white walls of the spiral stairs.
"You guys have it easy," Sang-woo, the intellectual of the Iron Aegis trio, interjected. He was a man who looked like he belonged in a library rather than a sinkhole. "In the Blue Dragon's last 'Deep-Sea' raid, I was on loan as a logistics coordinator. We had a Tank who was terrified of water. Not just 'uncomfortable'—terrified. We were on the 14th floor, the 'Drowned Cathedral.' The only way forward was a pressurized glass tunnel. The Tank saw a goldfish through the glass and had a panic attack so violent he accidentally activated his 'Shield Wall' skill."
"In a glass tunnel?" Min-ho asked, cringing.
"Exactly," Sang-woo nodded. "The shield expanded, shattered the glass, and the entire floor flooded in three seconds. I spent the next twenty minutes being used as a flotation device by a 200-pound man in full plate armor. He was screaming 'The bubbles are coming for me!' while I was trying to keep our mana-crystals from short-circuiting. When we finally got to dry land, he gave me a tip of five dollars and told me I was 'very buoyant.' I almost pushed him back in."
Han laughed so hard he nearly tripped on a jagged step. "Five dollars! Man, the life of a porter is just a comedy of errors. But hey, listen to this—my craziest job? It wasn't even in a dungeon. It was a 'Delivery Request' from a High Ranker to his ex-girlfriend. He wanted me to deliver a 'Cursed Box of Eternal Regret' to her apartment. The catch? The box screams like a banshee if it isn't held at a perfect 45-degree angle. I had to take the subway across Seoul holding a screaming, vibrating black cube while people looked at me like I was carrying a live bomb. Every time the train jerked, the box would shriek, 'YOU NEVER VALUED MY SACRIFICE, JESSICA!' in a voice that sounded like a thousand dying crows."
"Did you make the delivery?" Tae-soo asked, clutching his stomach from laughter.
"I did," Han grinned, his eyes bright in the dark. "Jessica opened the door, saw the box, and just sighed. She looked at me and said, 'Tell him I'm dating a Paladin now, the box is out of style.' Then she threw a mana-gem at me and slammed the door. Best tip I ever got."
The conversation continued as they descended further, the stories becoming more absurd as the darkness grew more profound. They spoke of Rankers who tried to use 'Teleportation' spells while drunk and ended up fused with stone walls; they spoke of 'Hidden Bosses' that were actually just very large, very angry chickens; they spoke of the time a porter accidentally became the leader of a goblin tribe because he had a shiny bald head that they worshipped as a sun-god.
But as they reached the final landing before the third floor, the atmosphere shifted. The levity began to evaporate, replaced by a heavy, thick sensation in their lungs. The "Abyssal Pressure" was no longer a theoretical concept; it felt like having lead poured into their veins.
The stairwell opened up into a vast, cavernous hall that seemed to go on for miles. The floor was covered in a thick, black sludge that didn't reflect their lantern light. Up ahead, the faint, golden-white sparks of Gunnar's lightning could still be seen flickering in the distance, but the porters were lagging behind, their crates feeling heavier with every step.
"Man... it's really dark here," Tae-soo whispered, his humor gone. He stepped a bit closer to Min-ho. "The Rankers are so far ahead. We should pick up the pace."
"Yeah," Min-ho replied, his hand going to the hilt of his ceremonial dagger. "Let's tighten the formation. Han, stay in the middle. You're our lucky charm, remember?"
"You got it," Han said, but his voice lacked its earlier bravado. He reached out to adjust his pack, his fingers brushing against Tae-soo's arm. "Hey, Tae-soo, stop dragging your feet. You're making that scraping sound again."
"I'm not making any sound," Tae-soo replied, his voice trembling slightly. "I'm standing right next to you."
"Then who's...?"
The sound was a soft, wet slither. It came from the absolute darkness just inches behind Tae-soo.
Before anyone could react, the darkness seemed to reach out. There was no growl, no roar—just the sudden, violent rush of air.
Tae-soo's lantern fell. The glass shattered on the stone, the mana-light flickering and dying.
"Tae-soo?" Min-ho shouted, swinging his own lantern toward the void.
The light caught a glimpse of something horrific.
A pale, muscular arm, covered in the tattered remains of a Blue Dragon uniform, had wrapped around Tae-soo's neck. In a single, explosive motion, the attacker didn't just grab him—it bit.
The sound was sickening. It was the sound of a wolf tearing into a fresh kill. A massive, jagged crunch followed by the wet sound of muscle being shredded. Tae-soo didn't even have time to scream. His windpipe was crushed instantly, and a massive chunk of his neck was simply ripped away.
Blood erupted in a dark, hot spray, splashing across Han's face and soaking into the "Star Ticket" in his pocket. Tae-soo's body went limp, his eyes rolling back as the "thing" dragged him backward into the pitch-black shadows.
"TAE-SOO!" Ji-hoon screamed, the crates he was carrying clattering to the floor. Vials of health potions shattered, the red liquid mixing with the dark gore on the floor.
"FORMATION! GET IN FORMATION!" Ki-nam roared, pulling out a heavy iron mace. The Iron Aegis porters bunched together, their lanterns shaking in their hands.
From the darkness, the sound of chewing emerged. A slow, rhythmic grinding of teeth against bone.
Then, a figure stepped into the dying light of the shattered lanterns.
The porters froze. Their breaths hitched in their chests, the air turning into ice.
The man standing there was wearing the reinforced, high-mobility combat suit of the Blue Dragon Elite Strike Team. It was the elite vanguard that had been sent into these ruins weeks ago to clear the way—the team that had been officially declared 'Missing in Action' after the tower's entrance had collapsed.
The uniform was shredded, caked in layers of dried blood and a strange, black mold. But it was the man's face that caused Min-ho to drop his lantern.
The man's eyes were entirely black. No whites, no pupils—just two bottomless pits of obsidian that seemed to draw the light out of the room. His skin was the color of a corpse that had been submerged in a swamp for a month, mapped with thick, black veins that pulsed with a rhythmic, necrotic energy.
In his hand, he held the large, dripping chunk of flesh he had just torn from Tae-soo's throat. He stared at the surviving porters with a vacant, predatory intensity.
He took a slow, deliberate bite of the flesh, swallowing it with a wet gulp. Blood smeared across his chin, dripping onto the Blue Dragon insignia on his chest.
"No..." Min-ho whispered, his knees buckling. He recognized the man. He had spent months as a junior porter for this man's team. He had carried his gear, sharpened his blades, and listened to his stories. "Captain... Captain Kang-dae?"
The creature that used to be Kang-dae tilted its head, a slow, unnatural movement that sent a series of cracks through its neck. It didn't speak. It didn't growl. It merely stared at them with those void-black eyes, the blood on its face shimmering in the dim light.
Then, it let out a soft, rasping breath that sounded like wind through a graveyard. It dropped the remains of Tae-soo's throat and reached for the broken, jagged hilt of an elite-grade mana-sword hanging at its waist.
"The Captain..." Ji-hoon sobbed, his voice rising in hysterics. "The Captain is...."
"Back away!" Ki-nam commanded, his voice shaking. "Slowly! We need to get to the Rankers! Han! MOVE!"
But Han couldn't move. He stood there, paralyzed, the hot blood of his friend cooling on his cheek, staring into the black eyes of a hero who had become a monster. The Star Ticket in his pocket felt like a piece of lead, a useless scrap of paper in the face of the Abyss's ultimate cruelty.
Captain Kang-dae took a step forward, his movements jerky and disjointed, like a puppet being operated by a novice. He raised the broken blade, the black veins in his arm glowing with a faint, malevolent light.