DMG Chapter 3 (Part 2)

LONG CHAPTER AHEAD

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“…So, that’s why the deployment mission came all the way here.”

After hearing Han Kang-jin’s explanation, Choi Soo-bin nodded and asked,

“Team Leader, so where is the location?”

“Jeju Island.”

“Any information about the gate?”

“A dungeon type. Estimated to be between B+ and A- grade.”

“So we can treat it as A- grade… Then, what are the penalties for not participating?”

“There’s none. However, the remaining personnel at the center will have to handle the gates that appear in designated areas without extra support.”

“So, what’s your point?”

“They’re accepting volunteers. Since it’s a deployment mission, there will be plenty of bonuses. Given the grade, it seems it’ll be a team-based effort, not individual. So we’re going to decide by majority vote. Alright, anyone who wants to volunteer, raise your hand.”

Han Kang-jin was the first to raise his hand. Then, the other three, except for Kim Young-ho, raised their hands as well. Kim Young-ho, the only one who didn’t raise his hand, looked around at the others and asked,

“Huh? Why are you all raising your hands?”

“You haven’t experienced it yet, so you wouldn’t know, but deployment missions come with all kinds of allowances, so the pay is pretty hefty.”

“How much?”

At Choi Soo-bin’s gesture, Kang I-won whispered into Kim Young-ho’s ear. Kim Young-ho’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Seriously?!”

“Yeah. It depends on the dungeon type, but dealing with an A- grade dungeon-type gate with dozens of teams attacking it is going to be harder than staying behind here and handling a gate. The area coverage you have to manage will be wider than usual.”

Kim Young-ho, clearly excited, answered quickly.

“Then, of course, we should go!”

“Yeah, we’ll go then. We’re leaving tomorrow, so make sure to prepare ahead of time.”

“Yes!”

Having quickly made the decision, Han Kang-jin stood up to report to the higher-ups, but Choi Soo-bin called out to him.

“Team Leader, Team Leader. Wait a minute. Is Heo Do-gyeong, I mean, Guide Heo Do-gyeong, going with us? Even though it’s temporary, they’re still part of our team.”

Guides, who are essentially like civilians, usually stay at the center. Of course, there are guides who go out into the field, but these are typically field guides who have completed relevant training.

Most field guides are the regulars, but there are rare occasions when a team’s dedicated guide joins them for an extended mission. Given the typically low matching rates with field guides, and the fact that a guide can stay at an adjacent center while the team goes out, it’s unusual for a guide to accompany the team on a deployment mission.

So, why would Heo Do-gyeong, a temporary guide with no attachment to the team, need to go all the way to Jeju?

“Would he even go with us?”

Kang I-won muttered, but Choi Soo-bin grinned and responded.

“Why not? You never know. So, are you asking if he’s coming?”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on asking, since he’s temporary.”

“Ask him. My gut feeling is he’ll definitely say yes.”

“Hmm….”

Seeing Han Kang-jin’s reluctance, Choi Soo-bin continued.

“And besides, having Heo Do-gyeong with us would make things easier for the team. Field guides tend to have terrible matching rates, you know? I remember there wasn’t a single guide with a good matching rate when we were using that terrible drug!”

Choi Soo-bin was particularly resistant to using the guiding drug. She’d once used it and suffered from depression for a week. Han Kang-jin, who seemed unsure, spoke up after a moment of thought.

“Okay, Soo-bin, since you’re saying all that, I’ll ask him. But don’t get your hopes up.”

However, the next day, Heo Do-gyeong was included in the group heading to Jeju.

Heo Do-gyeong, arriving at the center with his coat tails fluttering, looked as immaculate as ever, as usual. Choi Soo-bin grinned proudly at the sight.

“Told you I was right, didn’t I?”

Kang I-won, looking bewildered, turned to Heo Do-gyeong and asked, “Why are you here, Guide Heo Do-gyeong?”

“Someone advised me to find out for myself what’s going on.”

“What could possibly be so interesting?”

Kang I-won wondered what had piqued Heo Do-gyeong’s curiosity to come all this way. Staring at the bewildered Kang I-won, Heo Do-gyeong simply replied, “There’s something.”

Heo Do-gyeong, visibly uncomfortable at the sight of the gathered Espers, stood off at a slight distance. If he was already that displeased, why had he even bothered to come? Kang I-won sighed quietly to himself.

After a while, all the Espers and guides had gathered, and they all climbed into two buses.

Once most of the Espers were on board, Heo Do-gyeong, still displeased, boarded the bus silently. Kang I-won followed him, and when he glanced around the bus, he exhaled quietly.

Han Kang-jin sat with Kim Young-ho, and Choi Soo-bin sat with another Esper from a different team. There weren’t many empty seats left, and the only one available for Kang I-won was next to Heo Do-gyeong.

He glanced briefly at Choi Soo-bin, who was already chatting loudly with someone, then sighed again and took the seat next to Heo Do-gyeong. It was the only option.

There was not a single word spoken between the two as the bus made its way to the airport. Both Heo Do-gyeong and Kang I-won were not the type to initiate conversation.

In the awkward silence, they arrived at the airport, and shortly after, boarded the cramped private plane. The situation was the same on the plane. With no extra seats, Kang I-won once again found himself sitting next to Heo Do-gyeong.

The seats on the plane were small and narrow, squeezed to fit as many Espers and guides as possible. It felt like the cheap seats of a budget airline had been ripped out and stuck together.

The seats were uncomfortable even for Kang I-won, and it was no doubt far worse for Heo Do-gyeong, who was taller and larger. Watching him awkwardly squeeze into the seat almost felt pitiful.

Kang I-won glanced over at Heo Do-gyeong sitting beside him.

Though Heo Do-gyeong furrowed his brow in discomfort, he didn’t voice any complaints. That was surprising to Kang I-won. He hesitated for a moment before speaking in a low voice.

“Are you okay?”

“…I knew it was going to be like this, so I’ll have to deal with it.”

Heo Do-gyeong, as if trying to ignore what bothered him, adjusted his eye mask and settled into a position, as though he was preparing to take a light nap. He seemed determined to shut out whatever was bothering him.

“Should I wake you up when we arrive?”

Kang I-won’s heart pounded as he was swallowed by the gate, his surroundings instantly shifting to a darker, more chaotic environment. The usual buzz of activity outside was replaced by a deafening silence, save for the eerie hum of the energy that held the gate together.

The atmosphere inside the gate was thick with tension. The towering structure that had loomed before them was now a maze of dark corridors and crumbling walls. Echoes of footsteps reverberated off the walls, amplifying the uncertainty that hung in the air.

Kang I-won stood still for a moment, adjusting to the change, trying to steady his breath. He felt a subtle pulse of energy, familiar and unsettling, running through the ground beneath him. The creatures within, hidden in the shadows, would be lying in wait, ready to strike the moment they sensed any movement.

The teams, split into their designated groups, moved quickly into position. As the D-Group moved forward, Kang I-won couldn’t help but glance back, his eyes narrowing as he saw Heo Do-gyeong’s distant form outside the gate. The familiar feeling of discomfort gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the task ahead.

He had been through similar situations before—confrontations with dangerous entities, dealing with the ever-looming threat of chaos. But something felt different this time. The gate felt heavier, more oppressive. The air was thick with the sense of imminent danger.

The team leader’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Stay alert. We move in pairs. I’ll take point. You, follow me. Stay close.”

Kang I-won nodded, falling in line behind the team leader, his senses sharp. He could feel the pulse of the gate, a constant hum that vibrated through his very being. Every step they took was measured, deliberate. The walls around them seemed to close in with each move.

Suddenly, a sound echoed in the distance—a low growl. The hairs on the back of Kang I-won’s neck stood up. He motioned for the team to stop.

“Something’s coming,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

The tension was palpable. He could feel it in his bones. The creatures were near, waiting, watching. They had no choice but to move forward. The only question was how soon the danger would strike.

As the group cautiously advanced, the shadows seemed to grow darker, the very air more oppressive. Kang I-won’s hand tightened around the grip of his weapon, ready for whatever might emerge from the depths of the dungeon-like gate.

* * *

It only took a single step to be severed from the world they knew.

As if switching channels, the scenery around them transformed in an instant. The place resembled a cavern, with five tunnels yawning wide open ahead.

“Ah, damn it.”

A groan echoed from somewhere ahead. It was hard to tell who it belonged to, as the sound seemed to come from several voices at once. Kang I-won silently agreed with their lament. Of all times, it had to be now.

“…Hah.”

Kang I-won exhaled heavily. Noticing his unusual state while scanning their surroundings, Choi Soo-bin asked, “Hey, what’s up with you all of a sudden? Are you hurt?”

“…It’s nothing.”

Wiping the cold sweat forming on his forehead with the back of his hand, Kang I-won gave a terse reply. It was clear from his demeanor that he had no intention of elaborating. Recognizing this, Choi Soo-bin quickly changed the subject.

“Hey, doesn’t this look exactly like an ant nest?”

“Yeah.”

Kang I-won nodded at Choi Soo-bin’s question, his face noticeably paler than usual.

“Never thought I’d live to see an actual ant nest,” Choi Soo-bin muttered, clicking her tongue.

The defining feature of an ant nest was its narrow, winding paths arranged in a maze-like structure. Along these paths, it wasn’t uncommon to encounter dens filled with clustered monsters.

“Ugh, what a headache,” Han Kang-jin grumbled, furrowing his brow.

Lacking experience, Kim Young-ho, who was still learning, asked hesitantly, “Why? Is there a problem?”

It was Kang I-won, still pale, who answered, “Ant nests are mazes—narrow, complicated, and long.”

“Why is that… Oh!”

Kim Young-ho glanced around at the crowded group of people surrounding him and let out a groan as realization struck.

Ant nests were notoriously tricky dungeons.

The most troublesome aspect was, without question, the narrowness of the paths. They were so tight that two or three people walking side by side would fill the space completely.

The issue with that was Esper abilities couldn’t distinguish between friend and foe. In the event of a sudden monster ambush, using abilities in such a confined space risked harming their own teammates, making combat even more difficult.

Moreover, the paths were not only labyrinthine but often led to larger chambers packed with monsters. The uneven and bumpy terrain added another layer of danger, increasing the likelihood of missteps during battles.

These challenges had caused many incidents—teams taking a wrong turn and being trapped in a collapsing dungeon, Espers accidentally killing their comrades in chaotic skirmishes, or fighters losing their footing on uneven ground during critical moments.

However, all this knowledge was secondhand, gathered from reports and accounts.

The team leaders gathered, discussing strategies. The most pressing problem was that none of the Espers present had firsthand experience with an ant nest.

Of the seven team leaders, not one had dealt with such a dungeon before. Their only reference was reports and documentation.

Ant nests were already rare, and the last recorded occurrence was nine years ago, making it nearly impossible to find someone with direct experience.

The leaders exchanged details about ant nests as best they could recall, continuing their discussion.

“So, what do we do?” one asked.

“If we want to play it safe, we should eliminate the clusters of monsters in the larger chambers as we go. But the gate has already been open for a week. We need to take out the boss before the wave begins.”

In dungeon-type gates, if the boss wasn’t killed within a certain time frame, the dungeon would enter a “wave state.” This meant the gate’s entrance would open, releasing all the monsters inside.

Once the gate opened, every monster within the dungeon would instinctively head for the exit, ignoring any Espers or Guides still inside. Their sole focus would be escaping.

Once outside, the monsters would naturally begin attacking humans.

This scenario was far more dangerous than a wave-type gate, as the number of monsters in a dungeon ranged from hundreds to thousands, depending on its size.

Imagine hundreds or thousands of monsters rushing out all at once—an utter nightmare.

“I agree,” one leader said.

“We should prioritize locating the boss. If possible, we can split the team to clear out the larger chambers near the exit and regroup afterward.”

“Agreed. But who will take the lead?”

A brief silence fell over the team leaders.

The position of the vanguard—a role burdened with encountering monsters without prior knowledge—was a difficult one. Especially in ant-nest dungeons, ambushes often came without warning.

Of course, no position was truly safe. Monsters could appear from paths they had already cleared or launch attacks from behind.

However, monsters within a dungeon rarely strayed far from their designated areas unless a significant disturbance occurred nearby. As a result, the vanguard typically faced the most frequent encounters with monsters.

Unless their efforts yielded noteworthy results, like taking down the boss, the vanguard position often felt thankless—a role that demanded effort without the reward. For that reason, most teams avoided it.

The team leaders quietly exchanged glances, gauging one another’s reactions. None were eager to speak first, prolonging the uncomfortable silence. But in a situation where time was critical, hesitation only wasted precious moments.

Breaking the silence, the leader of Team E spoke up to push the discussion forward.

“I recommend Team C. They have a detection-type Esper, don’t they? We need to find the boss as quickly as possible, so putting a detection-type at the front seems logical.”

The leader of Team C immediately scowled and glared at the speaker.

“I oppose. Are you trying to get the detection-type killed? Who in their right mind would put a detection-type Esper at the vanguard in a dungeon like this? You’re obviously new to being a team leader. If you don’t know better, keep your mouth shut. I recommend Team B, the one with the strongest combat power.”

“Shouldn’t the strongest combat team conserve their strength for the boss fight?” argued another leader. “I suggest Team D instead. Besides, Team D has that Esper, don’t they?”

“What Esper are you talking about?” asked the leader of Team G, from the Jeju branch.

The leader who proposed Team D clarified, “The A-rank Esper with regeneration abilities.”

At this, the leader of Team C nodded in agreement.

“Oh, that Esper? They’d do fine as the vanguard. I’m in favor.”

A few Espers from the Jeju branch raised an eyebrow. An A-rank with regeneration? So what? Still, as long as their own team wasn’t chosen, they voiced no objections and nodded in agreement.

“I’m in favor too.”

“I second that.”

“I oppose!”

Amid the rising consensus, the leader of Team D abruptly shouted their objection.

“That Esper isn’t suited for raw combat. Their abilities specialize in precision and surprise attacks! Sending them to the front is no different from using them as a meat shield. I recommend Team B again! And this talk about conserving strength before the boss fight? Isn’t that just a ploy for Team B to hog all the credit?”

The leader of Team B frowned, retorting, “What a misunderstanding. Aren’t we in a hurry to take down the boss? There’s no time to argue about credit. And as for using a meat shield—what’s the harm? It’s not like they’d actually die. I’ve heard rumors that they don’t even die if their head gets blown off. With that in mind, I’ll reaffirm my vote for Team D.”

“I agree.”

“Me too.”

“By majority vote, Team D will take the lead. Everyone, return to your positions. We depart in five minutes.”

With that declaration from Team A’s leader, further objections were dismissed. The leader of Team D let out a string of curses under their breath, unable to contain their frustration.

Returning to their team, the leader of Team D addressed their group in a voice heavy with guilt.

#3.2

“It’s been decided that we’ll prioritize eliminating the boss as quickly as possible. And… we’ve been assigned to lead the vanguard. Kang I-won, it seems you’ll need to take point. Can you handle it?”

The question was merely a formality; the decision had already been made. Even if Kang I-won refused, someone else in Team D would take his place as the vanguard—and inevitably end up acting as a shield for the team.

There was really only one answer he could give. With a pale face, Kang I-won nodded without resistance.

“Yes.”

As expected, Team 5, Kang I-won’s team, was placed at the front. Once they were ready, they moved toward the central entrance among the five openings leading into the ant nest. While the other teams adjusted their positions, Team 5 whispered among themselves in low voices.

“Ugh, leading the vanguard, what a pain.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Soo-bin’s right. I-won, you don’t need to apologize for this.”

“Is it really that bad being the vanguard?”

The inexperienced Kim Young-ho, who had never been in such a position, asked curiously. Choi Soo-bin, already looking exhausted, answered with an irritated expression.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

A little over five minutes passed, and Team 5 began advancing into the narrow passageway of the ant nest.

The interior resembled a cave.

From the narrow ceiling hung stalactites formed by dissolved limestone. A cold breeze blew from deep within, despite there being no visible connection to the outside world. It was unclear where the wind came from.

The winding pathway stretched out ahead, uneven and rough. Walking on the bumpy floor unnecessarily drained their stamina.

Before long, Team 5’s steps halted.

They had reached the first fork in the path.

A voice came through Kang I-won’s communication device, connected via radio.

“Take the right path. The left leads to a chamber with significant activity nearby—it’s close enough that it’ll need to be cleared.”

The speaker was a detection-type Esper from Team C. Since detection-types lacked the ability to protect themselves, they stayed in safe positions while guiding others through communication devices.

“Two teams should be enough to—”

“So, which teams—”

Voices continued over the radio, but they weren’t relevant to Team 5’s task. Ignoring the chatter, Kang I-won led his team down the right path.

As they proceeded, they frequently passed smaller passages branching off on either side. Most were dead ends or led to chambers filled with monsters.

Right, straight, second right, straight again—guided by the detection-type Esper, Team 5 kept moving forward. Occasionally, other teams split off to clear out monsters in nearby chambers.

“This is Team 8 from Team C,” came a sudden report. “We’ve encountered plant-type monsters. There are thirty of them. They’re vines… no, mushrooms. They’re vine mushrooms.”

Choi Soo-bin grumbled in annoyance.

“Ugh, plant-types are a pain.”

“Well, to be fair, isn’t every type troublesome in its own way?”

“Why is it so quiet? This is making me even more uneasy. No matter how much they’re plant-type monsters, it’s strange to be this silent,” Choi Soo-bin muttered.

They had ventured quite far in, yet not a single monster had appeared. Kang I-won silently agreed. The stillness was unnerving.

Typically, in areas inhabited by plant-type monsters, the dominant predators weren’t the plants themselves but creatures that preyed on them.

‘What kind of monsters eat vine mushrooms in ant nests?’ Kang I-won kept his thoughts active, staying tense as he cautiously advanced step by step.

Meanwhile, the team continued to split up due to the frequent discovery of chambers nearby.

“This is Team 13 from Team E,” came another report. “We’ve also encountered plant-type monsters—ten vine mushrooms. No notable activity from other monsters. We’ll handle them quickly and return.”

“This is supposed to be tough? There’s nothing here,” Kim Young-ho said with a mix of disappointment and curiosity.

Kang I-won and Choi Soo-bin murmured almost simultaneously:

“Something feels off…”

“Exactly. There’s no way it should be this empty.”

Despite the unease, they had no choice but to continue forward. The team leaders gave no new orders, leaving the vanguard team to proceed deeper into the ant nest under the guidance of the detection-type Esper.

Eventually, they reached another fork—this time, with three paths.

“Hold on,” the detection-type Esper said through the device. “The area’s too wide for a quick scan. Give me a moment.”

The team took this brief pause as an opportunity to rest.

Kim Young-ho, who had been tense earlier, scoffed dismissively. “What’s the big deal? This isn’t hard at all.”

“You keep letting your guard down, and you’ll regret it,” Choi Soo-bin warned.

“Fine, fine. I’m not letting my guard down,” Kim Young-ho grumbled.

‘This is exactly how ambushes—’

Before Choi Soo-bin could finish her thought, her words seemed to come true.

Kang I-won suddenly felt a strong presence beneath his feet. There wasn’t even time to shout a warning. Trusting his instincts, he leaped aside and grabbed onto a protrusion on the wall, clinging to it.

At that exact moment, something shot up from the ground where he had just stood.

“Ahh!” Kim Young-ho screamed in shock.

Someone, upon seeing the creature, shouted in alarm, “What the hell? A ground wasp?!”

“Why are wasps here?!”

Creatures mixed with wasps typically appeared in open, grassland-like environments, not cramped spaces like these.

But the unexpected was routine in dungeons, and this was yet another anomaly in a long list of them.

Confusion and frustration erupted around them as the team scrambled to comprehend the situation.

The creature that ambushed Kang I-won was a grotesque hybrid. Its upper body resembled that of a wasp, while its lower half, abruptly severed at the middle, was that of a centipede.

Dozens of legs on the centipede’s torso wriggled in a horrifying display.

Still clinging to the wall, Kang I-won calmly relayed the situation through his device.

“This is the vanguard. A monster has appeared. Codename: Ground Wasp.”

Codename: Ground Wasp.

The name wasn’t derived from its resemblance to an actual wasp, but rather from its behavior of burrowing into the ground combined with its wasp-like features.

“Ahh! Gross! So damn gross!”

Kim Young-ho screamed as he unleashed a burst of electricity at the creature. His actions caused the surrounding Espers to flinch and quickly step back.

The electrified creature convulsed violently, its body twitching with spasms. Even Kim Young-ho, disgusted by the grotesque sight, shuddered as weak sparks crackled from his hand.

“Ugh!”

“Do you have to electrocute everyone?!”

“Argh!”

Before he could discharge another attack, Choi Soo-bin delivered a swift kick to Kim Young-ho, sending him stumbling with a short yelp. With a gust of wind, she slashed at the creature.

The convulsing monster, weakened by the electricity, was sliced apart by her blade-like wind. Its gooey green fluid sprayed as its body was reduced to chunks, collapsing over the hole it had emerged from.

Despite its body being in pieces, the leftover nerves and residual electricity kept some of its many legs twitching incessantly.

Then, as if writhing to life, the mass of green ichor and severed parts shifted. Emerging from the remains was another Ground Wasp, identical to the one Choi Soo-bin had just killed.

Ground Wasps are known as the scourge of underground environments.

Individually, they weren’t particularly strong. But the title “scourge” wasn’t without reason.

Ground Wasps travel in swarms.

Thud-thud-thud-thud-

The ground trembled violently, the vibrations like the surface of a turbulent sea. The tightly grouped team scattered instantly, preparing for combat.

Because of the narrow space, Espers with wide-area abilities, who could cause significant collateral damage, moved into branching pathways to find more open areas.

Those at the forefront sprinted forward. The group was split by the forked paths ahead, and then divided further as more branching paths followed.

The quaking ground grew increasingly chaotic, the undulations resembling wild, crashing waves. Each step had to be taken with the utmost care.

Kang I-won grabbed Kim Young-ho’s arm just as he was about to stumble. Kim Young-ho muttered a brief thanks and refocused on the unstable ground beneath him as they continued forward.

The Ground Wasps’ offensive power and durability were weak. No matter how many there were, dealing with them individually wasn’t particularly challenging.

But the ant nest changed the equation.

To defeat these monsters, abilities had to be used. In such a confined space, however, using abilities risked harming one’s allies, especially with so many unfamiliar Espers from other teams around. The chances of being caught in friendly fire were dangerously high.

That’s why, before the swarm fully descended, the Espers spread out into the branching paths, trying to secure spaces where they could safely use their abilities.

“What a headache,” Choi Soo-bin muttered, irritation lacing her voice.

Kang I-won frowned deeply and muttered under his breath.

The best way to deal with Ground Wasps—fragile in their exoskeletons but overwhelming in numbers—was to burn them all at once. However, in the narrow, winding passages of an ant nest, setting anything alight would likely result in suffocation from the smoke.

That left them with only one option: to eliminate them one by one.

Gripping the hilt of the dagger at his waist tightly, Kang I-won drove it forcefully into the ground. As if triggered by the impact, a Ground Wasp’s head burst out of the earth, only for his dagger to pierce through it, slicing the creature in half.

That was just the beginning.

Dudududududu—!
The sound was deafening, like the rapid fire of a machine gun, as monsters began erupting from the ground en masse.

“Argh! Damn it! Why are there so many bugs?!”

“Kim Young-ho! Stay calm!”

“Y-Yes! Yes, sir!”

Han Kang-jin, standing nearby, tried to soothe the panicked Kim Young-ho. Though his voice trembled, Kim Young-ho fought to regain his composure, while Choi Soo-bin swung her blade-like winds, decapitating the Ground Wasps creeping toward them.

Kang I-won, gripping a dagger in each hand, exhaled briefly and charged straight into the writhing swarm of Ground Wasps.

One dagger cleaved the head of a Ground Wasp clutching at someone’s clothing, while the other stabbed into the ground to stop a creature trying to emerge. As he yanked his blade free, a string of viscous fluid dripped from the monster’s body.

Ahead, Kang I-won saw someone unable to properly defend themselves, being overrun by a Ground Wasp. Without hesitation, he hurled his dagger.

Shwack!

The thrown blade struck the back of the wasp’s head, killing it instantly as its body crumpled to the ground. Kang I-won quickly retrieved his weapon, reversing the grip on the handle, and slashed through the torso of another wasp charging at him. Sticky green fluid burst from its split body, coating him in the process.

He wiped the fluid off his cheek roughly with his forearm and swung his dagger at the next approaching Ground Wasp.

The monsters surged like an unrelenting tidal wave.

* * *

Time passed—how much, they weren’t sure. By the time the number of Ground Wasps they had slain reached triple digits, the attack finally eased into a lull.

“Ugh… there were so many of them.”

Choi Soo-bin muttered with a weary expression as she shredded the last remaining Ground Wasp with her blade-like wind. The sticky monster fluids that clung to her everywhere made her grimace.

Kim Young-ho, a short distance away, lay on the ground gagging.

“Ugh, blegh, I feel like I’ve seen every bug in the world today…”

“First dungeon-type gate and it’s an ant nest full of wasp monsters? You really are unlucky,” Han Kang-jin remarked, clicking his tongue as he patted Kim Young-ho’s back to help soothe him.

Behind them, the path they had carved was littered with Ground Wasp corpses and smeared with their viscous green fluids. The team members themselves were no better off—coated head to toe in the same sticky substance.

“Any injured or missing members?”

The leader of Team D, visibly exhausted, glanced around as he asked. No one responded. Though the grueling battle had left them worn out, thankfully there were no injuries or missing personnel.

“Good. Take a brief rest, and then we’ll regroup with the nearest team and—”

“This is Team F. We’ve found a monster we believe to be the boss. Please respond. Team F, over. We’ve found the boss,” a hushed voice came through the device.

The Team D leader steadied his voice and asked, “What type of creature is it?”

“This is Team F. The boss appears to be a brood queen wasp.”

A brood queen wasp—an endlessly spawning queen capable of continually producing soldiers. A troublesome opponent. The Team D leader let out a low sigh.

It was the boss they had anticipated since the first Ground Wasps appeared. Yet he had hoped, against all odds, for something different this time. Unfortunately, such hopes were never rewarded in situations like this.

“This is Team D. We can join immediately. Please share your location.”

“This is Team B. We’ll join soon. Do not engage the boss until we arrive.”

“This is Team A. We cannot join immediately. We’ll resolve our current situation and head over as soon as possible.”

“This is Team G. We’ve received the shared map. We’re nearby and will head over immediately.”

“This is—oh, I’ll take it! This is Team C. We’ll take some time to join—ah, crap! Hey, hey, HEY! What the hell is—!”

“This is Team E. Due to missing personnel, we’ll take some time to regroup before joining.”

The teams quickly relayed their statuses. Half were delayed, while the other half could join immediately.

The Team D leader took a moment to assess the situation before speaking decisively.

“The boss has been located. Quickly prepare for departure,” the Team D leader commanded.

The Espers, who had been taking a brief rest while seated on the ground, immediately sprang into action, methodically preparing themselves. They brushed off the sticky fluids coating their bodies, wiped down their weapon blades, and those requiring guidance either quickly received it or injected guiding medication.

Once ready, the Team D leader glanced at the display on his device and took the lead. Since speed was essential, Team 3, which included the leader of Team D, moved to the vanguard.

The devices worn by the Espers were equipped with various functions, but in dungeons like this, the map-sharing and GPS features proved the most invaluable.

Attached to their wrists, the devices tracked the paths the Espers had taken, creating a record that could be shared with others. These combined records formed an intricate and highly detailed map.

Additionally, as long as the GPS function remained active, the locations of all device users were displayed on the map.

The shared map now depicted a labyrinth-like network of paths, with nearly a hundred blinking points marking the current positions of Espers and Guides.

The sheer number of blinking dots made it clear how widely and intricately the teams had spread out.

The Team D leader quickly identified Team F’s position on the map. While the distance wasn’t far, the winding pathways meant they would have to take a circuitous route, causing some delay.

“Let’s move out,” the leader announced.

With preparations complete, Team D set off at a brisk pace toward the boss’s location.

* * *

A massive hollow chamber stretched endlessly above, with an impossibly high ceiling. At its center hung a colossal hive.

Within the hexagonal cells, larvae squirmed and devoured the food brought by worker wasps, growing rapidly with each bite.

Fully developed larvae, maturing into worker or Ground Wasps, spilled from their hexagonal cells along with viscous fluid, splattering onto the floor with wet, squelching sounds. The newly emerged wasps trembled their wings to shake off the fluid clinging to their bodies before scurrying into the ant nest’s labyrinthine passages.

The once-empty hive quickly filled with pale, wriggling shapes—larvae.

Beyond the endlessly spawning worker and Ground Wasps lay the enormous queen, curled against the wall, her immense body pressed into the jagged stone.

The queen’s head, resembling a grotesque hybrid of insect and wasp, was adorned with four long, sharp antennae. These antennae, capable of moving with frightening precision according to the queen’s will, ended in needle-like tips coated in lethal venom. Though slender, the antennae were the most durable part of the queen’s body and her primary defense.

Her back sprouted eight legs resembling those of a spider, replacing the now-useless wings of her species. Her body, instead of being covered in soft fur, was densely packed with quills resembling those of a porcupine.

Around the queen were scattered the corpses of various wasps, their forms twisted and fused with other insects. These were drones, their lives expended in filling the queen’s storage sacs before succumbing to death.

Nearby, a towering pile of rancid meat served as the queen’s food source. The foul stench of decay filled the air.

Driven by gnawing hunger, the queen stretched out two long legs, grasped a chunk of rotting flesh, and began chewing it with audible smacks before spitting it out in disgust.

A sweet, tantalizing aroma wafted from beyond the chamber. It had been so long since she had smelled fresh prey. To have such a feast so close, yet be forced to eat this putrid flesh—it was maddening.

Yet the queen exercised restraint. She remained still, fearful that the delectable prey just beyond her sight might flee. Besides, leaving it untouched seemed to draw more prey toward her lair.

The queen was greedy. She couldn’t allow even a single morsel to escape.

Her glossy, black, compound eyes—capable of perceiving thousands of individual images—fixated on the figures hiding beyond the chamber, awaiting reinforcements.

* * *

As they advanced toward the boss, Kim Young-ho asked, “What kind of monster is the Brood Queen Wasp?”

“Hmm, I’ve only read about it in reports. Kang I-won, you’ve faced one before, right?” Choi Soo-bin turned to him.

Kang I-won nodded and began to explain. “The Brood Queen Wasp itself isn’t particularly strong for its rank. The real issue is the soldiers it spawns.”

Codename: Brood Queen Wasp. Its most notable feature was its ability to continuously lay eggs in response to threats, producing soldiers to defend itself endlessly.

The soldiers emerged fully formed, encased in soft eggs. From the moment they tore through their shells, they were complete beings—skilled fighters dedicated to protecting their queen.

“The first priority is destroying the storage sac. Without the sperm stored in it, the queen can’t produce soldiers,” Kang I-won continued.

However, destroying the storage sac was easier said than done. The queen was surrounded by swarms of worker and Ground Wasps, and the soldiers she spawned were formidable foes in their own right.

“Ugh, I really hate bugs…” Kim Young-ho muttered, his voice filled with dread and frustration.

Despite their complaints, Team D pressed forward at a quick pace. As they neared their destination, a voice came through the device.

“This is Team B. It seems the queen has noticed us. Four teams are currently present, so we’re engaging now. Please join as soon as you arrive.”

At this, Team D quickened their steps.

By the time they reached the chamber, the battle was already well underway. Someone who caught sight of the queen let out a groan.

The queen was massive, so large they had to crane their necks to take in her entire form. Her size rivaled that of the entire gate they had entered.

Kang I-won quickly assessed the situation. The teams had split into three groups:

Team E was fighting the workers and Ground Wasps.
Teams F and G were handling the soldiers spawned by the queen.
Team B was directly engaging the queen herself.
All teams had arrived except for the delayed Teams A and C.

Under the command of the Team D leader, Team D split into two groups to support the ongoing battle. Two teams assisted with the workers and Ground Wasps, while the other two joined those fighting the soldiers.

Kang I-won’s Team 5 joined the group fighting the soldiers. They worked to efficiently eliminate the soldiers, taking down two or three at a time.

But for every soldier they killed, another emerged. The queen, agitated by the Espers, laid eggs at an alarming rate. No matter how many soldiers they dispatched, the numbers didn’t seem to dwindle.

The stalemate dragged on, the tide of battle stagnating. Eventually, Teams A and C arrived to join the fight. Team A focused on the queen, while Team C joined the effort against the soldiers.

Even with the additional manpower, the situation barely improved.

It wasn’t just the queen’s spawning that posed a problem. The hive hanging from the ceiling continuously produced workers and Ground Wasps. The creatures would fall to the ground, fully formed, and no matter how many were killed, more would take their place.

Frustration and shouts erupted from all corners of the chamber.

“Can’t you finish this already?! Why is everything so sloppy?”

“If you’re so frustrated, at least deal with the small fry properly! We can’t even get close to the queen because of them!”

“Damn it, I knew this would happen the moment Seoul said they couldn’t send reinforcements!”

“Did you just say that?!”

Someone yelled, pointing at the viscous liquid dripping from above.

“Watch out over there!”

“Ugh! That almost hit me! Can’t we just do something about that hive? Burn it down!”

“Do you think that liquid is honey just because it’s coming from the hive? It’s not! It’s flammable! If you burn it, we’ll all go up in flames! Stop showing off how ignorant you are and maybe try studying next time!”

“Did you just say that?!”

“Yeah, I said it! What are you gonna do about it?!”

“You crazy idiots! Is this the time to be arguing?! Focus!”

Frustration boiled over, and complaints and arguments erupted all around the chaotic battlefield.

Meanwhile, the Espers facing the queen had their own mounting challenges. Over five Espers had already succumbed to her venom.

“Be careful of those antennae! If they so much as brush against you, you’re done for!”

“Wasn’t there someone who could detoxify? Where are they?!”

“They dropped out before the fight because of stomach problems!”

“What the hell?! Whose team were they on? They’ve lost their damn mind! I swear, I’ll get to the bottom of this when we’re out of here!”

The queen’s venom had made the Espers overly cautious, and their hesitance frustrated the teams tasked with handling her soldiers.

“If you can’t deal with the core, at least destroy the storage sac first, you useless bastards!”

“We’re trying to get to the core because we can’t destroy the sac, you dumbass!”

It was absolute chaos—a complete disaster.

For those fighting the queen, her four antennae were the most dangerous aspect. Moving with terrifying precision, the venom-coated tips of the antennae posed a life-threatening danger to any who let their guard down.

And that wasn’t all.

Whenever someone managed to approach the queen, her soldiers would swarm in to block the way. Even if they somehow reached her again, she would fiercely resist with her eight spider-like legs and four antennae, while dozens of worker wasps flapped their wings to assist her.

As the workers obstructed the Espers, the queen rapidly laid eggs, and newly hatched soldiers quickly joined the fray, creating an endless cycle that prevented any progress.