Chapter 107: The World with No Up or Down

The swallowed light vanished completely, leaving behind not even the faintest sensation. Seong Ji-woo opened and closed his empty hand in disbelief.

This was the first time it hadn’t faded naturally with time, but instead disappeared as if snatched away by something. The feeling was unfamiliar and deeply unpleasant—like having a part of his body forcibly stolen.

“V–Vice Guild Leader? Mr. Son Ji-hwan? Is everyone still there?”

Lee Won-jae’s trembling voice echoed through the darkness. Ji-woo lowered his clenched fist. This wasn’t the time to panic over something like this.

“Yes. I’m here. Don’t be scared.”

“I’m here too.”

Son Ji-hwan’s voice followed.

“It sounded like you fell earlier. Are you badly hurt?”

“Ah, no. I’m fine.”

There had been a heavy thud earlier, but fortunately, it didn’t seem like he’d suffered any serious injuries.

“Let’s try to gather together first.”

Ji-woo spoke to the empty darkness. This wasn’t like the night outside—it was an overwhelming blackness beyond comparison.

He couldn’t even tell whether his eyes were open or closed. His vision felt smothered, as if trapped inside a hallucination.

He carefully groped forward with his foot. At the same time, faint movements from the others could be heard.

“What about Chae Min-jeong?”

Though they were the ones trapped, the dungeon outside was vast and dangerous. It was only natural to worry about Chae Min-jeong being left alone. At Won-jae’s anxious question, Ji-woo let out a quiet sigh.

“We need to escape as quickly as possible and go find her.”

Though she could be hot-headed at times, Chae Min-jeong was sharp and highly capable of survival. She wouldn’t do anything reckless. If anything, it was fortunate that she had been separated rather than someone else.

More importantly, she was a supporter. Supporters never acted rashly. They didn’t overestimate themselves and always read the situation carefully.

Because they knew better than anyone that no one would protect them on the battlefield.

The very first thing supporters learned was how to survive in the middle of a blood-soaked war—how not to draw aggro, how to secure safe zones, how to evade, how to hide.

She’d said she’d run many gates with different hunters before joining the guild. That alone made her trustworthy.

The real problem was them.

Lee Won-jae lacked field experience, and Son Ji-hwan, a pure dealer, looked clearly troubled in a situation where there was nothing to attack.

When monsters were in front of him, he flew like the wind. But in a trial without enemies, he was helpless. That was only natural—dealers were trained to attack targets.

“Vice Guild Leader… could you maybe use your ability?”

Won-jae’s voice came from farther away, as if he’d gone in the wrong direction. Ji-woo gathered the energy within him and tried to summon light at his fingertips, but the faint glow vanished the instant it appeared.

That same unpleasant sensation surged again, like it was being devoured by the darkness.

“It won’t work. This darkness seems incompatible with my power. It keeps getting swallowed.”

“…Ah.”

“That’s bad.”

None of the three could properly use their abilities. Won-jae’s water, used carelessly, could turn into a disaster. Ji-hwan’s speed was useless without direction or a target. Ji-woo’s light was drained the moment it appeared.

“So… we’re supposed to brute-force this with our bodies?”

“Yes.”

At Ji-hwan’s awkward comment, Ji-woo answered stiffly. Having lived almost his entire life as an ability user, the idea of being unable to rely on his powers felt alien.

It was like losing arms and legs he’d always been able to move freely—deeply unsettling.

The only thing he could rely on now was a physical weapon. Feeling the cold metal in his hand brought him a small measure of relief.

The choice he’d once made—to protect himself rather than rely on others—was finally proving its worth.

“Doesn’t something feel… off here?”

The voice came from above. Ji-woo snapped his head up instinctively.

Nothing was visible. Yet he could clearly hear Won-jae’s footsteps over his head.

That made no sense.

Did I mishear that?

Ji-woo frowned. Then this time, Son Ji-hwan’s voice echoed from far below.

“What did you say? You’re too far—I can barely hear you!”

Just as he said, Ji-hwan’s voice sounded distant and hollow.

Until the darkness fell, all three of them had been standing on flat ground. There had been no slopes, no cliffs.

“Mr. Lee, are you climbing a cliff right now?”

“What? No, that’s impossible. I’m just standing still…”

That answer confirmed it. Won-jae really was above him.

“My voice sounds like it’s coming from below, right?”

“…Huh!”

Won-jae sucked in a sharp breath, finally realizing something was wrong.

“H–How… why did you sink into the ground…?”

“From my perspective, I didn’t sink. You suddenly shot up into the sky.”

Ji-woo had simply walked straight ahead—trying to find the others.

“This definitely isn’t the same space as before.”

Ji-hwan’s voice now came from the side. Ji-woo twisted around quickly, but his arm cut through nothing but air. Ji-hwan’s footsteps were moving upward again.

“To me, it sounds like you’re walking straight up a cliff.”

“I’m not powerful enough to ignore physics like that.”

Ji-hwan turned and walked the other way. His voice grew closer—then distant again.

Their sense of up, down, left, and right was completely tangled. Ji-woo couldn’t even tell how he was standing anymore. He just stood there blankly, dizzy from the footsteps echoing from all directions.

Won-jae, on the verge of panic, ran around wildly.

“Gravity’s acting strangely.”

“Yeah. Seems like it.”

Ji-hwan said it felt like gravity wasn’t pulling inward, but outward instead. It made no sense—but trying to understand a gate in the first place was always a contradiction.

Rubbing his throbbing temple, Ji-woo asked,

“Do you see a corner where three walls meet?”

“Let’s look.”

Ji-hwan’s presence faded as he moved away. Ji-woo also began walking straight ahead. As long as he hit a wall, that would be something.

But the space had no end. He kept moving forward—yet didn’t feel farther away. The others’ voices kept drifting closer and farther in cycles.

Eventually, Ji-woo crouched down and began feeling along the ground.

And finally, he found it—a corner.

“I found one!”

Leaning firmly into it, the world spun violently for a moment. He clenched his teeth and endured, and slowly, his sense of balance returned.

“Feel along the floor until you find where the wall bends.”

After a long period of fumbling, Ji-hwan exclaimed in amazement.

“I found it too. Wow—this is insane.”

“Ugh… I think I’m going to throw up…”

Won-jae retched, then a moment later said tearfully that he’d reached a corner as well.

After organizing his thoughts, Ji-woo said calmly,

“Only one person moves. The others stay still.”

“Okay.”

“Ugh… got it.”

With their agreement, Ji-woo volunteered to move first. Pressing himself tightly between wall and floor, he began to move carefully, trying not to lose direction.

After one full circuit, he found no one. So he crouched at a corner and lay down.

The moment he did, his balance flipped again—walls becoming floor, floor becoming wall.

He moved forward once more.

After encountering three corners, he finally found Lee Won-jae, curled up and sitting there.

“V–Vice Guild Leader…?”

“You’re Mr. Lee, right?”

“Vice Guild Leader…!”

Won-jae jumped up and hugged Ji-woo tightly. The tears he’d been holding back poured out all at once.

“Did you two meet?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a relief.”

Ji-woo gauged the direction of Ji-hwan’s voice and then lay on his side. The walls and floor swapped again.

“I think this way. Mr. Lee, try lying down too.”

Won-jae hesitated but followed. He complained of dizziness at first, but soon adapted.

Before long, they found Son Ji-hwan as well.

“Waaah—!”

Won-jae clung to Ji-hwan and burst into loud sobs.

Ji-woo began feeling along the walls and floor again. The first goal—regrouping—had been achieved. But what came next was completely unclear.

As he continued probing, determined to learn something, his hand closed around a round object.

It felt exactly like a handle, fitting snugly into his grip. Without thinking, Ji-woo pulled it.

Click.

BOOM!

Something exploded, and their bodies floated upward.

“Huh? Wh–what…?”

Won-jae’s panicked voice faded as he drifted away. Ji-woo instantly lunged and grabbed him.

“Ghk—! My collar—my collar’s being grabbed!”

Blindly grabbing anything, he’d ended up clutching Won-jae’s collar. Apologizing, Ji-woo adjusted his grip to Won-jae’s arm.

Beside them, Ji-hwan also grabbed onto Won-jae’s other arm.

The three of them floated through the darkness together.

How much time passed?

THUD.

A deep, heavy sound echoed—as if something enormous had slammed into the ground.

At the same time, the darkness imprisoning them vanished.

More precisely, the walls collapsed.

As walls toppled away in every direction, the three stared in stunned silence.

“…What does this even mean?”

Ji-woo murmured.

Ji-hwan replied hollowly,

“I think the world’s gone insane.”

They were standing on the sky.

An endless blue expanse surrounded them, while jagged mountain peaks loomed overhead, as if they might fall at any moment.

It was the very land they’d been standing on just moments ago.