They called him a myth. A ghost in the system. A worker with impossible strength and no past.
He called himself Gongjeon. And he was the only one who knew he wasn’t supposed to be here.”
In a reality where Hunters with systems, magic, and levels have only just begun to emerge, the world teeters on the edge of a new age—one of power, danger, and classified anomalies. South Korea stands at the forefront of this shift, producing the strongest Hunters the world has ever known. But beneath the surface of steel and concrete, hidden in the dust and sweat of a construction site, lies a secret no one could ever comprehend.
He arrived by accident.
Not fallen from the heavens. Not summoned by ritual.
But lost—through the collapse of probability itself, cast out of the void between worlds and into the body of a man with no memories, no purpose, and no patience for small talk.
He is the God of the Unknown.
A primordial, incomprehensible entity older than gods, stronger than concepts, and so far beyond mortal understanding that even his own powers defy logic, categorization, or balance. He was never meant to be found. Never meant to interact. And definitely not meant to... work a nine-to-five job pouring foundation for apartment buildings while listening to his foreman yell about deadlines.
But here he is.
With no way home. No one who knows what he truly is. And a mysterious, ever-evolving System that only he can see—an infinite interface of skills, spells, divine abilities, and broken game mechanics that shouldn’t function… but somehow do.
As the world around him begins to shift—Dungeons appear, monsters emerge, and Hunters rise in power—the god who has nothing better to do starts to get... curious.
He watches.
He tinkers.
He lifts trucks for fun.
He flips off reality when no one’s looking.
And he absolutely refuses to get involved.
That is… until someone starts poking around where they shouldn’t.
Until the System throws him a quest he didn’t ask for.
Until the line between “hiding” and “accidentally becoming a legend” begins to blur.
Because even a god can get bored.
And when he does… well, let’s just say the world won’t know what hit it.

"In the beginning, before the first light bent and fractured into dimensions, before even the concept of gods had coalesced into worship or fear, there was the Unknown."


— Excerpt from the Sealed Codex of the First Circle, Page 0 (which was never allowed to be read aloud).


Not a god of war. Not a god of death. Not even a god of mischief—those were all known quantities. Those could be bargained with, bound, or at the very least, understood on some level.


The one whose name had never been spoken because no mortal tongue could form the syllables without their mind unraveling.


The one whose form could not be seen because perception itself rejected the idea of looking directly at him.


The one whose power had no classification, no limit, no opposite—and therefore, no equal.


Mostly… he was ignored. Because to acknowledge him was to invite chaos—not the kind with fire and brimstone, but the kind that made reality itself ask questions it wasn't equipped to understand.


And so, for eons uncounted, he drifted in the spaces between thoughts, between worlds, between the lines of causality.


Dead inside in the way only an immortal entity who has seen all possible outcomes of all possible universes could be.


Not lost in the traditional sense. He didn't misread a map or take a wrong turn through a portal. No, this was more profound. More existential. Somehow, due to a convergence of cosmic interference, a collapsing probability matrix, and what he could only describe as "a really bad day for the laws of physics," he slipped.


And landed—kerplunk—in the middle of a construction site in South Korea.


Humanity was young again. Still recovering from wars unrecorded in his time. Still clawing its way up from the dirt. And yet… something was different.


Magic—real, quantifiable, ranked, and regulated.


A world where power had levels, where people could be classified by letters (S, A, B…), and where some humans had begun to pierce the veil of the supernatural once more.


And none of them had any idea that the man mixing cement and muttering curses under his breath while lifting steel beams like they were toothpicks…


Chapter 1 - PROLOGUE: The One They Couldn’t Name