Max's vision blurred. His body burned like it was on fire. Even when his sight returned, it wasn't complete.
"It's not lethal… yet…" he tried to say, but his throat felt thick and heavy.
The last thing he remembered was forcing the monster's blood out of his stomach. Max tried to stand — but his body refused.
For a second, he considered calling a hospital. But that risked exposing the Dark Dungeon.
No… I can't do that,… he thought, dragging himself across the soaked bathroom floor. This dungeon is the only shot I've got… the only good thing that's ever happened to me. I'm not letting go — even if it kills me.
He slumped against the wall, breathing hard. There was nothing more he could do. Nothing but pray his body would recover over time. But it wasn't. It was getting worse.
His vision faded again. It felt like limbo — drifting on the edge of death. Memories flashed. Regrets surfaced. Was there nothing he could do?
No — there was one thing left.
He saw a flicker of light in the dark. He could still cultivate. Even blind, even numb — he didn't need sight to channel mana.
His fingers twitched, searching for the container. He grabbed the mana crystal with shaky hands and stayed slouched against the wall. Then, he began to recall the 7SP technique.
His vision was gone. His ears rang. His sense of touch faded. Smell? Taste? Didn't matter. He had to focus on one thing — the thread of energy.
But… the thread was already there.
He could feel it. Not one — but many. The crystal radiated with power. He could sense the energy clearly, flowing from it and moving through his body.
Is it because my other senses are shut off? Did that… make it easier?
Maybe. But Max didn't have the luxury to think. He focused on the energy, circulating it slowly. Gradually. Until the crystal was drained and his body soaked in mana.
And then — everything went dark.
Where… am I?
His voice echoed in the void. He felt like he was drifting… like his body was breaking apart.
Weird images flashed before his eyes. Muffled sounds filled the air — slowly becoming clearer.
Am I dying…?
A soft hum vibrated in the space.
"Mom…"
Who's there? Who's talking?
"Mom… mom, wake up!!"
An image burst before him.
Why… does that look familiar?
This time, the image played like a scene — a home burning in flames.
"Mom, please wake up!!" A child's voice cried out.
That… that's me.
A thump hit Max's chest — then another. His heartbeat returned, pounding fast.
"Someone… PLEASE HELP US!!"
The child clutched a woman's bloodied body, flames all around, smoke thick in the air.
"Please… someone…" the child gasped, choking on the smoke.
I… I can't breathe… I need air.
Max struggled. Something was crushing his windpipe. But he fought for breath.
"Please… som—"
The child collapsed.
No! Don't give up. You need to breathe!
Max shouted from the void, his voice ringing with raw desperation.
Someone… someone needs to save him!
His heart thundered. The ringing grew — louder, sharper like a siren rushing closer.
YOU NEED TO BREATHE!
"GASPPPPP!"
Max's eyes snapped open, chest heaving. Something clogged his throat — and then he coughed out thick, tar-like black sludge from his nose and mouth.
He was disoriented, struggling to piece together the scene. It was the same bathroom — flooded with water. The faucet had been left running. His helmet, extractor, backpack — all scattered. The used mana stone lay nearby.
His breath gradually stabilized. The high-pitched ringing came from his phone, buzzing beside him in the water.
"Shit, shit, shit!" Max panicked, snatched the phone, and turned off the tap.
Too late. The display was already fried — warped green and black lines across the screen. Max tried slamming the phone to drain the water. No use. It had drowned for too long.
He dropped back to the floor, panting. He didn't know what had happened or how… but he was alive.
Unzipping the suit, Max recoiled — his entire body was drenched, not in sweat, but something thicker. Sticky. Like starch.
"Ugh…" he grimaced and peeled off the rest of the suit, stumbling to the shower.
Grrrrrrulll…
His stomach growled violently. No doubt about it—he'd been passed out for a long time.
Food came first… but not before a quick wash.
"If I don't die from hunger… the water bill definitely will."
He showered quickly, skipped dressing, and went straight to the kitchen. No time to boil water. He tore open ramen cups and started eating them raw.
Five in total.
'Ringg Ringg!'
His phone rang again. This time, Max didn't waste a second—he rubbed the screen, and the call connected. The touch still worked; the display was just gone. As soon as the call picked up, a familiar voice yelled through.
[ MAX YOU SON OF A DIRTY BITCH, WHERE WAS YOUR ASS SLEEPING ALL THIS TIME ]
[ Young Master Rayan, curse words don't suit your code. ]
"Hehey, Rayan… been a while. How are you?" Max laughed nervously.
[ Been my ass—I called you 55 times. Literally 55! And you didn't even bother leaving a text. ]
"55 times?" Max blinked. It was rare for Rayan to be this angry—let alone to call that many times. "I'm sorry... it's a... long story."
[I'm letting it slide for now. I'm heading to the exam center. You better have a damn good apology speech ready. ]
"Exam centre?"
[ …wait. You forgot? Today's the written exam for military students! ]
"Today is…" Max's eyes widened. Wasn't that supposed to be on the 18th? If today was the 18th, then… was I unconscious for three days?
"Wait, wait, wait… what time is it?" Max looked around for a clock—nothing.
[ Alright, you've completely lost it, haven't you? ]
"Just tell me the time, will you?"
[It's 9:15 AM. The exam starts at 10:30. Entry opens at 10:00. ]
"No fucking way…" Max slapped his forehead. He was in serious trouble now. "Ray, tell me fast, where are you?"
[ Halfway to the center? ]
"Alright, I'm shamelessly asking for a lift…" Max rushed to change, pulling on the only formal set of clothes he owned. He no longer cared about food. Grabbing his ID and other essentials and locking the door behind him, he bolted out on foot.
Max's home was closer to the exam centre than Rayan's, so he intercepted Rayan's car midway and hopped in. Naturally, the butler was already driving like his life depended on it.
To qualify for the military, candidates had to meet just two basic conditions: be over 18 years of age and score at least 60 out of 100 in the entrance test. Surprisingly, physical ability wasn't a requirement—at least not officially.
The IMTE—Intercontinental Military Trainee Exams—were known to be one of the toughest entrance tests in the world. That's why Max and Rayan had a plan.
"Make sure you keep the paper tilted, okay? Tilt it like, thirty degrees," Rayan whispered from the seat behind him.
"NO TALKING!"
The examiner's voice cut through the room like a knife as they walked around distributing papers.
The hall was packed with nearly three hundred students. Only twenty would make it through this round.
Max was both confident and nervous. Studying was the second thing he was good at.The first? Taking beatings.
He got the paper. Without glancing at it, he closed his eyes.
The bell rang.
He opened them and turned the sheet over. A second later, a small smile curved on his lips.