Chapter 66: The Gate That Had Been Waiting

“I’m just a supporter? There’s no supporter as incredible as you, hyung.”

Yu Hiro shot back immediately. Koo Min-ah, as if she were hearing the strangest nonsense, hooked a pinky into her ear and gave it a scratch.

“If you’d become a Hunter earlier, hyung, you would’ve easily made it to rank three.”

At the exact number, Sung Ji-woo’s body twitched. He turned to look at Yu Hiro.

Does this kid know something?

But Yu Hiro’s gaze was far too innocent for that. Sung Ji-woo’s tension drained away. Right—there was no way.

Yu Hiro—no, no one here—could possibly know that Sung Ji-woo had once reached rank three.

He knew it sounded unbelievable. Sung Ji-woo himself hadn’t expected it either. Historically and globally, it was rare for a supporter to even break into the top ten.

Normally, Sung Ji-woo hovered around the top thirty. Reaching rank three had happened exactly once.

Hunter rankings were calculated based on past achievements combined with results from the most recent six months—and for Sung Ji-woo, those six months had been nothing short of hell.

So-called manual labor hell.

It was after he’d finished his X-Gate deployment and had spent a long time suffering from aftereffects, barely stepping back into the world of Hunters just to survive. At the time, Sung Ji-woo was obsessed with proving his worth—how capable he was, how reliable, both to others and to himself.

Looking back, even Sung Ji-woo thought he’d been out of his mind back then. That wasn’t how you worked—you should’ve gone to a hospital instead.

Those six months felt like they shaved ten years off his lifespan. Not that it mattered, since Yu Hiro went on to wipe out the world anyway, leaving him no chance to live out that expectancy. After all that suffering, he finally put his name at rank three—only to skip the awards ceremony, refuse to join a guild, and make no effort to cling to his ranking.

Because it all felt pointless.

He’d wondered how much influence a ranking—just a number—could really have.

But people changed their attitudes in an instant. Even former teammates who had abandoned him inside the X-Gate somehow tracked him down, apologizing and trying to contact him again. Most of those apologies quickly turned into offers to recruit him into their guilds.

It wasn’t satisfying at all. There was no sense of accomplishment. Their sugar-coated words were, for the most part, nothing more than schemes to use him. The ones who weren’t like that were so few he could count them on one hand.

Two of them were Lee Hye-rin and Shin Yoon-jae. He’d run into them by chance—right when he’d fallen from rank three back down into the thirties. As public interest faded, there were even people trying to lowball and pressure him into joining.

But those two were different. They had no intention of recruiting him. They invited him to eat, even welcomed him to their guild headquarters, yet never brought up the main point—until Sung Ji-woo himself finally asked.

“Why aren’t you asking me to join your guild?”

Lee Hye-rin looked genuinely puzzled.

“Do you want to join our guild?”

“No?”

She smiled softly, as if that was exactly what she’d expected.

“Exactly. I like you, Sung Ji-woo. Meeting up as party members from time to time and running Gates together—it’s not bad. I didn’t bring it up because I didn’t want to burden you, but honestly, I’ve thought well of you for a long time.”

Sung Ji-woo snapped out of his reverie. Wearing a faintly dazed expression, he let out a small laugh. Even in his previous life, Lee Hye-rin and Shin Yoon-jae had remembered who he was back when he was still a high schooler. At the same time, he felt a bit embarrassed that he hadn’t remembered them at all.

It felt like he’d lived a life without ever really looking around him. The problem was, it wasn’t as though he’d taken particularly good care of himself either. Just a life lived because he happened to be born.

For someone like Sung Ji-woo, having a goal was almost poisonous. The moment he had one, it disguised itself as the reason for living. And the moment that goal was achieved, everything turned hollow. Nothing remained.

He’d thought that this time, he’d finally found a reason to live—no, a mission.

Turns out, that was an illusion too.

He should’ve wrapped it up like a predictable movie, with some moral like “And thus, the villain reformed and became a hero.”

But the world was far too peaceful, and tomorrow kept coming, again and again.

“At this rate, by the time we finish the Gate, it’ll be tomorrow.”

Koo Min-ah muttered. The three of them were already standing at the Gate’s entrance.

“It’s a Gate without a danger rating yet,” Sung Ji-woo said, keeping his voice as calm as possible. Aside from training Gates back in high school, this was his first real Gate. Even so, his mind was growing clearer by the second. He knew exactly what needed to be done.

“And there are only three of us. You know one slip in coordination and it’s over.”

Koo Min-ah looked at him quietly.

“We don’t even fully know each other’s combat styles, so we need to stay sharp.”

“As for combat styles, I kind of know. I saw you two during mentoring review sessions, and I’ve fought alongside Yu Hiro in the X-Gate.”

Yu Hiro nodded along with her words. But Sung Ji-woo replied in a heavy voice,

“…I don’t know.”

He had taught Yu Hiro once, yes—but he had no idea how Yu Hiro’s fighting style had evolved since then, or how he’d grown strong enough to conquer the X-Gate.

The same went for Koo Min-ah. She’d shown her divine beast before, but Sung Ji-woo didn’t know the mechanics behind it or how she actually used it.

“It’s fine. Even if you don’t know that stuff, hyung will still do great. It was like that the first time we entered a Gate together too, remember?”

“That was…!”

That had only worked because they’d been with Lee Hye-rin and Shin Yoon-jae. He’d known exactly how they used their abilities—and had detailed knowledge of their fully developed skill sets. That was why he’d been able to draw out their maximum potential. More than anything, that had only been training.

But he couldn’t say that.

“I never thought I’d be the one saying this, but….”

After hesitating, Sung Ji-woo continued,

“…If you need any buffs, just ask. Don’t hold back.”

In other words, he was offering to be their buff shuttle.

Koo Min-ah let out a small, impressed sound and teased him,

“Never thought I’d get buffs from the Sung Ji-woo. What an honor. When you said you weren’t becoming a Hunter, I figured I’d never get buffed by you again.”

“….”

“Guess our survival odds just went up.”

Yu Hiro added cheerfully,

“It’s been so long since I got hyung’s buffs—I’m excited. I’ll take anything you give me.”

Because it’s from you.

At that shyly concluded sentence, Sung Ji-woo scrubbed his face with dry hands.

Seriously… what do they even see in me to trust me this much?

Objectively speaking, the trio wasn’t a bad lineup. Koo Min-ah could function as both tank and ranged dealer, Yu Hiro was an overwhelmingly powerful melee dealer, and Sung Ji-woo could support them effectively.

As long as they managed the variables well, things shouldn’t get too dangerous.

That’s what Sung Ji-woo told himself. It would be fine. He just needed to remember the countless Gates he’d been through before.

“…Let’s go.”

The three of them stepped into the Gate. The pitch-black interior was lit by Sung Ji-woo’s light. Standing before the first dungeon, they steadied their breathing. There was no way to predict what awaited them inside.

“It’ll be okay… right?”

The thought of calling for help—from the Knocker guild members, or from Lee Hye-rin and Shin Yoon-jae—kept surfacing, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask them to come all the way out to the countryside at such a late hour.

“As if it could be worse than the X-Gate,” Koo Min-ah said with a shrug. Her casual attitude was oddly reassuring.

“This place was a safety zone for a long time. Since this is the first time, it’s probably a small Gate. The real issue is that it’s no longer a safety zone—but by then, the government or the association will dispatch Hunters. That won’t be our problem.”

“…Right. That makes sense.”

Having made up his mind, Sung Ji-woo immediately buffed the two of them. There was always a chance something unexpected could happen before he got the chance.

The moment the three of them opened the door to the first dungeon—

Beep. Beeeep!

“What’s that sound…?”

An alarm began to blare. At first, Sung Ji-woo wondered if it was coming from the Gate itself and glanced around. That was when he noticed Koo Min-ah’s grim expression.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

The device strapped to her wrist was flashing a violent red.

[DANGER]

“…Gate runaway.”

“What?”

Gate runaway. Just like ability users could go berserk, Gates could also enter a runaway state when their energy waves became unstable. That instability originated from the Gate’s core—in cases like this, it meant that a previously dormant Gate had opened, causing its energy to amplify abnormally.

In other words, this Gate hadn’t appeared today out of nowhere. It had existed in a latent state for decades—perhaps even centuries—and had only now emerged into the world.

Sung Ji-woo’s face drained of color. If this area had been a safety zone for so long, then the scale of this Gate might be far larger than he’d imagined.

It was even possible that this Gate had been monopolizing the surrounding area all this time, preventing smaller Gates from appearing.

Which meant that, in simple terms—

“We’re fucked.”