Chapter 55

The moment Hyuk-min stepped into the [Hidden Room], a vast desert of nothing but sand spread out before his eyes.

Not a single tree offered shade. The scorching sun and blistering heat pressed down on him so heavily that even standing still felt like a burden.

A land of death.

That description fit perfectly.

“They don’t call it special for nothing.”

No [Hidden Room] had ever broadcast a System message to everyone nearby the instant it opened.

And the spaces Hyuk-min had seen in Dungeons and the Tower so far— even the last [Hidden Room] he’d cleared—none of them came close to something this vast.

The horizon stretched so far its end couldn’t be seen, making it impossible to guess where the edge of this enormous [Hidden Room] might be.

There wasn’t a single hint of where to go or what to do.

A dead land where only irregularly placed cacti served as vague markers.

In his past life, countless challengers had died here, turning into skeletons buried beneath the sand.

Naturally, it should’ve filled any first-timer with a dull, creeping dread.

Unfortunately for this place, Hyuk-min wasn’t a first-timer.

Because he’d been here before.

‘I was lucky back then. Otherwise, surviving wouldn’t have made sense.’

When the 70th-floor [Hidden Room] first revealed itself in his past life, Hyuk-min had joined in as a challenger.

For an adventurer climbing the Tower and clearing Dungeons, how could anyone refuse the sweet prize of a [Hidden Room]?

And for Hyuk-min—who had risked his life to grow stronger for revenge—it was temptation he couldn’t possibly turn down.

But a dream was just a dream.

In the end, it had been far beyond his reach.

He’d endured every hardship, faced death countless times, and still failed to obtain it.

It was one of the worst memories he carried from his past life—one he never wanted to dig up again.

Yet now, that memory was going to save him.

‘Plod. Plod. Plod.’

He crossed the desert without a compass.

In his past life, having never set foot in a desert, he’d thought the sinking sand was simply how deserts were.

But once he learned the truth, he realized that wasn’t it at all.

The sand that seemed to swallow his feet was itself part of the test.

One of the insane mechanisms of this special [Hidden Room]—a gate that couldn’t even be challenged unless you had the [Stats] to endure it.

“I wonder if they’re doing okay.”

Hyuk-min glanced back.

The entrance and exit—glowing white—had shrunk to a tiny dot.

Even so, his body was holding up. A smile crept onto his face.

“It’s not as hard to walk as it was back then. I guess I meet the qualifications now.”

He kept walking across the endless desert.

But he wasn’t wandering aimlessly.

Why did they call it the land of death?

Because ninety-nine percent of challengers died and vanished without ever even seeing the boss.

Back then, Hyuk-min could only call it luck.

The group he’d ended up with had been among the one percent—the ones who happened to walk the correct path.

‘It was a simple gimmick.’

He hadn’t known it at the time, but looking back, it was almost absurdly simple.

From the moment you entered, all you had to do was face straight ahead and keep walking without deviation.

And yet that simple gimmick was also the hardest.

The moment your focus wavered and you drifted—

You would never reach the place where the boss and the reward waited.

How long had he walked?

Using the scattered cacti to keep his bearings, it felt like about thirty minutes.

“Finally…”

The place allowed only to the one percent—the place he’d been waiting for—

An oasis came into view.

“Phew. This is rough.”

Only then did he sit on a sand dune for a moment to catch his breath.

Now that he’d found it, all that remained was the challenge.

With a brief, unfamiliar sense of ease, Hyuk-min looked back toward the entrance—now long since swallowed by distance—and spoke under his breath.

“They’ll be okay, right?”

===

“Are you okay?”

‘CRASH!’

No Death’s sword smashed into someone’s shield.

With a deafening impact, the man flew back screaming and slammed into a distant wall.

No Death shrieked and shot a glare at Hyun-jung, who stood on a rock behind him.

“Do I look okay? Why are you even asking? I’m about to die from exhaustion!”

“I was going to switch with you.”

“Oh, really? A little kid like you?”

No Death acknowledged Hyun-jung when it came to clearing Dungeons or climbing the Tower.

But this was different.

This was PvP—fighting humans, not monsters.

The nature of the battle changed everything, and No Death couldn’t bring himself to trust Hyun-jung with the front line.

Even after all they’d survived together, it seemed he still didn’t fully understand what kind of monster Hyun-jung had become.

“You don’t know me very well,” Hyun-jung said coolly. “I recently fought and won against more than five adventurers.”

No Death didn’t know.

He didn’t know Hyun-jung had become a rising powerhouse even in PvP—someone who had taken down seven White Mountain Guild members after being ambushed.

Hyun-jung sprang off the rock as if she were flying, pulled a pistol from her [Inventory], and stepped in front of No Death.

She looked sixteen.

But she was thirteen.

No Death—and even the adventurers who’d been trading blows with him—smirked at the sight of her.

“Move it, kid. You’ll get hurt.”

One adventurer strode up fearlessly and reached out to pat her head.

But the only person allowed to touch Hyun-jung’s head was Hyuk-min.

The flash of annoyance on her face turned into action.

‘Crack!’

Hyun-jung caught the burly man’s wrist, twisted hard, and snapped it. He dropped to his knees.

“Guh—Gyaaaaaaah!!”

“Filthy.”

She looked down at him coldly as he writhed—

‘WHACK!’

—and sent him flying sideways with a roundhouse kick.

Then she glared at the challengers.

“Only come at me if you want a taste of my bullets—or if you want to be crippled. I won’t refuse.”

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

Somewhere, someone swallowed hard.

‘Gulp.’

“…Damn. That kid’s something else.”

===

The moment Hyuk-min stepped into the oasis, the water erupted like a waterfall—and a giant centipede revealed itself.

In a desert, an oasis was survival.

But not in a Dungeon.

And especially not in a [Hidden Room].

“[Regression Mode].”

The centipede was so massive that the Ogre Knight—boss of the 70th floor—couldn’t even compare.

The pressure, the sheer amount of mana… it was so overwhelming that every monster Hyuk-min had faced until now felt trivial.

And its goosebump-inducing size made even Hyuk-min in [Regression Mode] look like a cockroach.

“It’s just as incredible seeing it again.”

Even for a 70th-floor [Hidden Room], the difficulty was absurd.

The gap in power was so vast that even attempting to fight it felt meaningless.

Yet Hyuk-min didn’t draw the Immortal Demon Sword.

He simply stood there, looking up.

“A lot of people lost their lives trying to kill that thing.”

‘Drip. Drip. Drip.’

Its mouth—teeth or tentacles, it was hard to tell—writhed freely, dripping purplish liquid into the oasis.

Whenever the poison hit sand, it melted it black.

Just watching it drained away fighting spirit.

“I didn’t know back then.”

Hyuk-min walked straight toward the oasis.

He scooped sand from the edge and tossed it into the water—water that had been beneath that poison-spewing centipede for who knew how long—and watched carefully as white smoke rose.

Even with the centipede looming, a shadow hanging over everything, Hyuk-min’s eyes stayed fixed on the water as if the monster didn’t exist.

‘Smirk.’

That confirmed it.

That terrifying centipede was—

“An illusion meant to threaten you.”

In his past life, dozens had died before they realized the real cause wasn’t the centipede’s poison.

It was the poison in the oasis itself.

But once they learned that, something even worse awaited them.

The reward for the 70th-floor [Hidden Room] was at the bottom of that oasis.

At the bottom of the very poison that killed people.

A rose you had to pluck even knowing it was poisonous.

A sweet honey you had to swallow even knowing it meant death.

No matter how unstoppable human desire was, it couldn’t override the survival instinct’s fear of death.

A few foolish people had jumped in anyway.

But once everyone saw their bodies float up as skeletons, no one else dared.

Desire was crushed by the abyss.

“Hoo.”

Hyuk-min took a long breath.

“Hup!”

He inhaled deeply—

Then, without hesitation, he leaped high and threw himself into the oasis of death.

There was no other way.

It was something he had to consume, even knowing it would kill him.

‘Because this is the only way to clear the [Hidden Room].’

‘SPLASH!’

‘Chiiiiik.’

The moment Hyuk-min disappeared beneath the surface, a sizzling sound rose.

White smoke began to billow endlessly from the oasis.

===

Human desire was more dangerous than people liked to admit.

“Hah… Hah… Dammit…”

The crowd had swollen to the point where even No Death—who had already sent several flying—couldn’t keep up anymore.

“Where did that bitch go!? We have to find her first!”

“Right! We have to find her before she catches her breath!”

“Someone block that boss monster!!”

“You block it! We’ll go find her!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You block it. We’ll take care of these monsters.”

“What are you talking about!? We were here first!”

“Bullshit! While we’re dealing with the boss, you’ll break through and go in first if the path opens. I don’t care! We’re not fighting the boss either. Let’s all die together!”

It was pure chaos.

The demon of distrust had infected everything.

They didn’t just suspect No Death and Hyun-jung, the obvious enemies—they suspected the boss monster, and even the person standing beside them.

Their shouting and brawling, like a market turned into a riot, ironically gave No Death and Hyun-jung a moment to breathe.

But even chaos produces its own kind of hero.

And the thin chance that distrust had granted them began to die the moment a certain woman appeared.

“Everyone, listen to me!”

“What—who are you now!?”

A woman with long, near-platinum blonde hair—probably bleached—pushed forward and shouted.

“If this keeps up, we’ll all end up like the dog that chased a chicken only to lose it!”

Her sharp voice, loud enough for everyone to hear, seized the crowd’s attention for a moment.

“Why do you think those people are blocking this place? It means the [Hidden Room] is already being cleared inside! Even while we fight like this, it’s progressing!”

Hyun-jung slipped back to No Death’s side.

“This isn’t good.”

“I think so too. Who the hell is that woman?”

“You can’t die, old man. Hold the line as long as you can. I’ll support you from behind.”

“Aish. Looks like I’m stuck with the dirty work. More importantly… how long has it been? Why isn’t that bastard Hyuk-min coming out?”

At No Death’s words, Hyun-jung’s gaze turned to the [Hidden Room], still shining with quiet light.

It remained silent.

Only that calm, bright glow.

Hyun-jung didn’t show it, but she was starting to worry too.

‘No. For Uncle, I have to do my part.’

She bit her lip, vanished with her stealth [Skill], and whispered.

‘Uncle, you’re okay, right? Please hurry… I don’t think we can hold much longer.’

Hyun-jung wasn’t the only one reaching her limit.

After she disappeared, the two chipped daggers in No Death’s hands clattered to the floor.

He tossed them aside, pulled two fresh daggers from his [Inventory], and started preparing like it was the final round.

Without a word, he tore his leather long coat and began strapping the daggers to his wrists.

‘Dammit. If they all rush me, I’m screwed…’

It hadn’t even been five minutes since the woman appeared.

Yet already, the crowd’s mood was changing—becoming one.

Their eyes, their will, their hunger—aligning.

To not end up like the dog that chased a chicken only to lose it.

“We need to enter now instead of worrying about casualties! We’ll take the lead! Everyone—charge!!”

“Fuck it! Let’s go!!!”

“Uwaaaaaaah!!”

The final battle began.

No Death clenched the last leather strap between his teeth and yanked it tight.

Black smoke started to seep out of him.

Normally, people would scatter at the mere sight of that ghastly Spirit Materialization.

But not now.

“Don’t blame me if you get through,” he muttered, voice low. “You’re the one who made the ridiculous request not to kill them…”

People charged with their eyes squeezed shut, pushing forward even as the black smoke swallowed the air.

A will hardened enough to trample fear.

And as it surged toward him, it slowly began to grind down even No Death’s confidence.

“I’ve done all I can!!”

His feet—once planted like roots—lifted.

For the first time, No Death charged forward.

To honor Hyuk-min’s final request as best he could.

“Uryaaaaaaah!!”