The disturbance was faint, yet undeniable. Only a few paces ahead, no more than eight or nine steps away, Lee Si-woo had felt it—an electric jolt that prickled through his senses like a sudden static shock. It was sharp enough that he could pinpoint its origin. But now, standing there with narrowed eyes, the sensation had completely vanished.
He scanned the quiet grove, but no monsters lurked in sight. That alone meant nothing. Hunters learned early on that the eyes could not be trusted; danger often crept unseen.
Calling upon his Hunter's art, Si-woo spread his awareness like rippling water. Mana detection swept through the surrounding woods, tracing for even the faintest spark of life. Nothing. Not a single monster stirred within range.
If not a beast… then what?
Cautiously, he pressed his back to a tree and held his breath. Minutes trickled by in silence, nothing breaking the stillness. Perhaps his heightened senses after recently ascending to C-rank had tricked him? He almost relaxed—until the prickle returned. Another subtle surge of static ran up his arm.
It was no illusion.
His instincts screamed. If a monster appeared now, he was unarmed. This was a collection-type gate; bringing weapons would only raise suspicions. Meeting a beast empty-handed here would mean certain death.
He cloaked himself instantly. A D-rank assassin's technique, Stealth, folded over his body, veiling his scent and even the faint aura of his mana. Hunters usually used it to stalk prey. Tonight, it was his shield.
The grove shimmered. A ripple in space split open, and a hulking bald man stepped through. Si-woo's eyes widened. It wasn't a monster—it was a man, walking calmly out of nothingness.
And he wasn't alone. Two more figures followed, as though stepping off the stage of reality itself. For an instant, it felt like watching people emerge from a torn movie screen.
Recognition struck him. The two trailing figures were familiar: Hunters from the Outsider Café. His heartbeat raced. Could their constant shadowing of him have been nothing but misdirection, a trick to cover their real activities?
He steadied himself. Losing control would break his stealth, and being discovered spying here would mean death.
The bald man spoke briefly, his words sharp and cold, before vanishing back into the rift. With him went the static pulse. Si-woo's mind sharpened—the electric jolt had been a spatial gate opening inside another gate. A gate within a gate. And such a thing could mean only one thing.
The Black Market.
He had found its entrance.
Confirmation came swiftly, as one of the Outsider Café's managers muttered in awe about the hidden market. Si-woo recognized the man—Son Woo-joo, the sub-manager of the group. And beside him stood Hong Sang-sik, the leader himself.
Pieces slid into place. The leadership of Outsider Café was using their members as cover to slip in and out of the Black Market. Whatever dealings they had there were laced with profit and secrecy.
Their conversation confirmed his suspicions. Fear of discovery, the thrill of bribery, the greed for hidden wealth—they were risking everything for access to this shadow world.
When the two finally departed, Si-woo remained hidden, watching. Only after long minutes did he release his stealth and exhale. It was no business of his why they sought the market, but now he knew its location. That knowledge alone was priceless.
Yet barging in recklessly would be suicide. The gatekeepers guarding the Black Market would not hesitate to cut down intruders. He would need another way in.
He retreated swiftly, running until the stench of the market's veil was far behind him. His steps carried him to a barren cliffside, winds howling, the opposite of the lush forests behind. This desolate place would serve as his temporary shelter.
Checking his interface, he confirmed it—his mana reserves and defenses had surged. The numbers left no doubt: he had truly advanced to C-rank. From E-rank to C-rank in just twelve days. His heart thundered at the achievement.
But cultivation was no game. There were no glowing lights or triumphant system chimes. Advancement was measured in mana density, body resilience, and one's ability to endure. The Hunter Association had long since established classifications for these, and his results were undeniable.
He cycled through his available skills. At higher ranks, the list grew shorter—basic arts had already been mastered. What remained were powerful techniques, costly to obtain, requiring expensive digital skill-books. Still, he tested one new art. A faint surge of energy danced across his arm as the knowledge imprinted itself directly into his body.
Leaving the gate behind, he returned to reality after four long hours. He had gathered little in resources, but what he gained was infinitely more valuable: the hidden entrance to the Black Market.
With it, the possibility of selling monster parts at extravagant prices became real. That wealth would fuel his vengeance against Kang Myung-jun, bringing the day of reckoning closer.
At the KHA office, friendly staff greeted him warmly, sharing a simple lunch. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to relax. But as he left, ready to head home, his steps froze.
Waiting for him outside was one of the Outsider Café's members, calling his name.
The web of secrets he had stepped into was tightening around him.