Chapter 69: Those Left Behind in the Gate

After the sudden storm, Sung Jiwoo—now separated from the other two—let out a deep sigh. He slowly began to explore the dungeon, which reeked of murky, brackish water. Once he stepped out of the massive arched structure that had mostly collapsed, his field of vision grew noticeably brighter.

The ground, made entirely of stone with no soil in sight, was filled with pools of stagnant water in every crack. The rotten stench seemed to be coming from there.

“Yoo Heero! Heero! …Koo Minah!”

He shouted at the top of his lungs, but only the echo of his own voice reverberated back at him. There was no reply.

Drip.

The sound of water falling echoed eerily from somewhere unknown. Fluorescent minerals were embedded throughout the walls, glowing faintly. That was the reason this place—despite never seeing sunlight—was so bright.

—Human who has slipped into the crack between worlds.

“What?”

Jiwoo flinched as a voice rang out of nowhere. The owner of the mysterious voice continued speaking.

—You have drifted here in search of your fate.

“What kind of bullshit is that? Give me my friends back!”

—Move forward. You will face the truth.

The voice paid no attention to his words, stubbornly continuing its own monologue. Jiwoo cursed inwardly. Time was critical—yet this thing was wasting it by talking nonsense.

The buffs he had cast on the two of them were nearing their limit. Just as Jiwoo was about to hurry forward, a thought crossed his mind.

“…Wait. I don’t need to worry about that, do I?”

He muttered under his breath. His buffs were only supplementary; they weren’t decisive. Those two weren’t high school students.

They were professional hunters.

If anything, they might be worrying about him instead. He was the one who had ended up with a hunter license almost by accident.

“…So all I need to do is handle myself?”

This feeling was new. Disorienting. Jiwoo stood there for a while, wearing a dazed expression, before suddenly breaking into a run as if he had made up his mind. The altered flow of time, the changed future—no, the changed present—still felt unfamiliar.

He was the only one trapped in the past. Like a stranger staring blankly out a car window at scenery flashing by, Jiwoo felt an inexplicable sense of isolation. The future he had struggled so desperately to change had finally arrived—yet he himself wasn’t ready to accept it.

After running for a long time, what came into view was a single old door and an altar. It didn’t just feel like ruins—it genuinely was one. Something resembling dried, withered branches lay atop the altar.

What was truly strange was that he hadn’t encountered a single living creature on the way here. Not even an ant. Seeing a wall meant he’d reached the end of the dungeon—but there was still no sign of the other two.

“Did they leave first?”

It was entirely possible. Keeping calm, Jiwoo reached out and felt along the tightly shut door. His fingertips brushed against the rough surface of stone. The split slab clearly formed the shape of a door, yet there was no handle anywhere.

On a whim, Jiwoo poured his ability into the door.

Wooooong.

The door vibrated in response to the light.

“Holy—!”

Startled, Jiwoo stumbled backward. The moment his ability faded, the door went quiet again, as if nothing had happened. Calming his racing heart, he steeled himself and drew out his power to its fullest, then poured everything into the door.

A bright flash burst outward, then was absorbed into the stone.

WOOOOOONG.

A far stronger vibration followed. As Jiwoo stepped back, the door began to open with a heavy, grinding sound.

As though untouched for decades, it took an agonizingly long time to open wide enough for a single person to pass. Unable to wait, Jiwoo squeezed himself through the narrow gap.

The humid interior smelled strongly of mold, but he didn’t care. He had no luxury to be picky right now.

“…What?”

He had expected to see a gate exit—at the very least, another dungeon.

Instead, there was a cramped room, no more than thirty square meters in size. And standing at its center was a strange stone tower, rising to about shoulder height. As if entranced, Jiwoo stepped closer. No carvings or inscriptions were visible, but it clearly wasn’t a natural formation. The three-tiered stone tower emanated an indescribable aura.

“It feels like something should’ve been here…”

Around the middle of the tower was a circular indentation. Jiwoo bent down and examined it carefully.

“…A gate core.”

Having cleared countless gates, Jiwoo had seen marks like this innumerable times. He’d even personally removed functioning gate cores before.

“Did someone already clear it…?”

A missing gate core meant the gate had already been subdued—and that whoever did it had taken the core with them.

“Then why won’t the door open?”

At that moment, the voice echoed once more.

—Distorted time will return to its rightful place.

The door, which had only just finished opening, began to close again.

BANG!

“Are you f*cking kidding me?!”

It had taken forever to open, yet it shut in an instant. If Jiwoo had run toward it even a moment sooner, he would’ve been crushed to death between the doors. He clutched his chest, shaken.

“Huh?”

There was a reason the door had closed so suddenly.

The gate exit he’d been searching for was right behind it.

“So they really cleared it first!”

Convinced that the two of them had destroyed the gate core, Jiwoo hurried through the exit—only to be greeted not by his teammates, but by Lee Hyerin.

✦✦✦

“There was nothing inside. Nothing to fight, nothing to do. And since the gate core was already gone, I assumed they’d obviously cleared it first…!”

Jiwoo spoke passionately, but the hunters gathered to hear his account all wore uneasy expressions.

A berserk gate—one estimated to be large-scale—and Jiwoo claiming he had done nothing inside before escaping safely was hard to believe.

“…No gate core,” Hyerin murmured, replaying Jiwoo’s explanation in her head.

At that moment, one hunter finally couldn’t hold back.

“That makes no sense. The gate’s still in berserk mode. How could there be no core?”

The answer came from Park Soojin, guild master of Knocker.

“He’s right. What Sung Jiwoo saw probably wasn’t this gate’s core. It was likely another gate altogether.”

“What are you talking about? We all clearly saw him come out of that gate!”

Jiwoo spoke up as well, clearly confused.

“There was no core where it should’ve been. I don’t have much gate experience, but I can tell that much.”

“I’m not saying you were mistaken.”

Park Soojin continued calmly.

“Some of you may know that I briefly worked as a gate researcher. When a gate goes berserk, the connection between worlds becomes unstable. There’s a high probability that Hunter Sung Jiwoo was swept into a different gate and came back out.”

“…So you’re saying he entered a gate that had already been cleared?”

Skeptical voices rose immediately. Park Soojin merely shrugged, and Im Changwon nodded in agreement.

“It’s plausible. And credible.”

With the Helios guild master backing him, the others had nothing more to say.

“Then the other two could’ve been swept into some other gate as well. And we have no way of knowing which one. Even if we enter now, whether we’ll find them is—”

“No one knows. If we’re unlucky…”

Park Soojin trailed off, biting his lip. Then he spoke quietly—yet clearly enough for everyone to hear.

“They’ll be classified as missing inside the gate.”

Someone swallowed audibly.

Missing inside the gate.

It was no different from a death sentence. Fewer than twenty such cases had ever been recorded in South Korea.

Rare—but when they did occur, they often resulted in disasters where several people vanished at once.

There had been no reports in the last thirty years. Though news of gate instability had surfaced occasionally in recent years, it had never been discussed deeply enough for people to truly grasp the danger. And with the massive issue of the “X-Gate Subjugation,” other gate-related problems had been buried entirely.

Only Park Soojin, who had investigated the matter on his own, wore a bitter expression.

“The fact that Jiwoo made it out at all was pure luck.”

“….”

Jiwoo couldn’t bring himself to speak after the barrage of shocking revelations. Being told he survived by luck offered no comfort at all.

Especially since he had been the one to suggest entering the gate in the first place.

The image of Koo Minah’s father—desperately trying to stop them—flashed through his mind. Then Yoo Heero’s naïve face, someone who trusted Jiwoo without question.

“Once someone is officially declared missing inside a gate, the search is abandoned, right?”

“…Yes.”

Park Soojin hesitated, then nodded. The weight and guilt he carried were evident in that slow motion.

“That’s insane!” Hyerin shouted sharply. Jiwoo and Shin Yoonjae were staring at the gate, their eyes already red.

“They haven’t been declared missing yet.”

Im Changwon spoke up. Park Soojin looked at him.

“Don’t tell me…”

“Until that happens, shouldn’t we try something?”

“We’re going in.”

Hyerin and Shin Yoonjae hadn’t changed their minds. They were determined to enter the gate, no matter what.

That was why they’d rushed here in the first place.

“Me too.”

Jiwoo raised his hand. The others reacted in shock.

“What? No way!”

“Absolutely not! Are you out of your mind?!”

“I was the one who suggested going in.”

“….”

“I told them to go. How can I leave them in there?”

Hyerin and Shin Yoonjae, who had been desperately trying to stop him, fell silent. If they lost them there forever, life wouldn’t feel like living anyway. Dying together would be better.

The three exchanged wordless looks. In the end, they had no choice but to admit they were thinking the same thing.

“The gate’s stabilized!”

A shout rang out from afar—the news everyone had been waiting for.

“The Association just contacted us! Entry is authorized!”

Cheers thundered from all directions. It was a rallying cry, lifting morale that had sunk to rock bottom.

“Wait!”

Hyerin interrupted.

“You said earlier that the two of them might’ve been swept into another gate. If that happened because of the berserk state, then…”

“…That means we’re already too late.”

For those gathered to subjugate the gate, it was good news. For those trying to rescue two missing people, it was a bolt from the blue. As Jiwoo buried his face in his hands, Park Soojin spoke to him.

“We don’t know that yet. Cases of being dropped into another gate during a berserk event aren’t that common. There’s still a good chance they’re inside this gate. We do what we can.”

Watching the other hunters prepare to enter, Jiwoo steeled himself.

“Let’s go. There’s no other choice.”

The entry team was decided.

Park Soojin of Knocker, Im Changwon of Helios, Shin Yoonjae, Lee Hyerin, and Sung Jiwoo formed a single unit.

It was a combination rarely—if ever—seen.

“I’ll handle orders and briefing,” Im Changwon said, stepping forward. With the most subjugation experience among them, he took the lead. Park Soojin nodded without objection.