The dungeon trembled.
Dust rained from the ceiling as a guttural growl reverberated through the stone walls, shaking the air itself. Aiden's head lifted, his gaze narrowing toward the deeper passage. The torches flickered violently, shadows stretching unnaturally long.
Then it appeared.
A hulking figure lumbered out of the darkness, its body twice the size of a man's, muscles corded with grotesque bulk. Its skin was mottled green, patches of bone-like armor jutting from its shoulders and chest. Two crimson eyes glowed with malice above a jagged maw. In its hands, it dragged a massive rusted cleaver that screeched against the floor.
Dungeon Boss – Hobgoblin Chief.
Aiden's lips curved into a faint smile."So the dungeon escalates."
The boss roared, the sound rattling the very air, and charged forward with earth-shaking steps.
To any unarmed man, this would have been death. But Aiden wasn't just any man.
The world slowed. Threads burst into his vision, luminous lines weaving every motion, every inevitability. The boss's cleaver swing stretched into a strand, inevitable in its path to his torso. The vibrations of the ground tied to his balance. The air around its roar hummed with threads of intimidation.
Aiden's eyes gleamed."Let's test you, monster."
The cleaver descended.
He plucked a thread.
The hobgoblin's ankle twisted mid-stride, its footing breaking. The massive blade slammed into the ground instead of his body, stone cracking from the force.
Aiden sidestepped lightly, almost casual, as shards of rock sprayed past. His grin sharpened."Predictable."
The monster snarled, wrenching its weapon free with a violent jerk. It swung again, faster this time, the cleaver howling through the air.
Threads danced.
Aiden's hand flicked. The swing veered as if struck by unseen force, the blade embedding itself in the wall. Before the hobgoblin could react, he tugged another thread—the ceiling above its head.
CRASH!
Stones rained down, smashing into the beast's skull. It staggered, roaring in pain, but it wasn't finished. The hobgoblin ripped its cleaver free and bellowed, fury blazing in its crimson eyes.
Aiden clicked his tongue."Tough bastard."
The threads quivered around him. He could keep pulling them, making accidents, turning inevitabilities against the creature. But the larger the foe, the more resistance the threads gave. It was like forcing destiny itself to break—and destiny didn't like being broken.
Already, a dull ache throbbed behind his eyes.
So there's a price… stamina, maybe even lifespan, for every major twist.
The hobgoblin charged again. This time it didn't swing blindly. It feinted, then twisted its massive body, slamming its shoulder forward like a battering ram.
The threads screamed.
Aiden's lips curled. "Not bad."
He seized two threads at once. The ground beneath the beast fractured, its momentum shifting a fraction. And then—he tugged the cleaver's grip.
The weapon slipped from its hand mid-charge. The hobgoblin's own body weight carried it forward—straight into the blade it had dropped.
The rusted edge punched through its gut, blood spraying across the stones.
The boss let out a strangled roar, staggering in disbelief as its own weapon impaled it.
Aiden stepped closer, eyes gleaming cold. Threads flickered around the beast's throat, faint but visible. The thread of survival.
He reached out, plucked it—
—and severed it.
The hobgoblin stiffened. Its crimson eyes widened, then dimmed as life fled. With a thunderous crash, the monster collapsed, shaking the dungeon floor one final time.
Silence followed.
Aiden exhaled slowly, sweat dripping down his brow. His legs trembled faintly, not from fear, but from the toll of manipulating so many heavy threads. His body felt drained, but his heart… his heart was racing with exhilaration.
He stepped onto the corpse, gazing down at the fallen beast. The cleaver jutted from its chest, a grotesque monument to inevitability undone.
A slow grin spread across his face.
This world runs on cause and effect. Monsters kill hunters, bosses rule dungeons, the weak die while the strong feast. That's the chain.
And I'm the one cutting and tying the chains as I please.
He crouched, reaching into the monster's chest. His fingers closed around something warm, pulsing faintly with energy.
When he pulled it free, a crystal the size of his palm gleamed in his hand—a C-rank magic core, glowing with dull green light.
The first trophy of many.
He clenched it tightly, the faint hum resonating with his heartbeat.
"Not bad for a prologue."
His eyes lifted, the threads of causality still shimmering faintly around him. Beyond the dungeon, he knew guilds would be watching for new Hunters. The Association would take notice. And fate itself—the Monarchs, the Rulers—they would all eventually turn their gaze.
But it wouldn't matter.
Because this was his board now. And he would pull every string until the world danced exactly as he wished.
Aiden Ryu, the transmigrator who bent inevitability, stepped off the corpse of his first boss with a grin that promised only one thing.
From this point on, destiny itself would be his prey.