Rain poured heavily over Seoul that night. Not a gentle drizzle, but a relentless downpour that soaked the streets and made them gleam under neon lights. Inside a small bar in Gangnam, the low hum of voices nearly drowned out the roar of rain outside.
Kang Ji-hoon, a 28-year-old editor, sat at a table with several colleagues. They were fellow editors and writers who often worked together. That night, they were discussing the plot of a popular web novel.
"But if the main character gets the strongest power right at the beginning, doesn't that make the story boring?" said Park Min-soo, a senior editor whose face was already flushed from drinking.
"Readers want instant gratification these days," replied Choi Yuna, a young writer. "They don't want to wait too long."
Ji-hoon simply listened, slowly rotating an empty glass in his hand. He had spent the entire day editing three different chapters, fixing messy pacing and stiff dialogue. His mind was still crowded with unfinished sentences. He felt exhausted.
After a few hours, they decided to call it a night. The rain had eased. Ji-hoon declined their offer for a ride and chose to walk to the subway station instead. The cool night air made him feel slightly refreshed.
He walked along the quiet sidewalk, his thoughts still stuck on a manuscript that had to be finished tomorrow. He was thinking about how to improve a fight scene that felt lacking in tension.
As he stepped onto the crosswalk, the pedestrian light was still green. Ji-hoon walked calmly, unaware of the danger approaching.
From the right, the sound of an engine revving violently cut through the air. Tires screeched against the wet asphalt.
Ji-hoon turned his head. The glare of headlights blinded him. He had no time to react.
His body was flung into the air as the car struck him. He crashed hard onto the pavement. The impact rang deafeningly, and then the world around him fell into an eerie silence.
He lay there, powerless. Rain splattered against his face. The sounds around him felt distant, muffled, as if heard through water—shouts, hurried footsteps, someone speaking urgently on the phone.
Pain spread through his entire body. His breathing grew ragged. His eyes stared up at the dark sky, endlessly washed by rain.
His consciousness began to fade. Darkness slowly swallowed his vision.
But just before he lost consciousness completely, a strange voice echoed inside his head. It was clear, flat, and utterly inhuman.
[Host condition: critical. Soul detected undergoing dimensional displacement. Suitable for experimentation.]
[Initiating forced transmigration.]
[Searching for compatible vessel in Adjacent Dimension-7… Found.]
[Beginning transfer.]
Ji-hoon had no chance to protest. He only felt a bizarre sensation, as if his body were being violently pulled through a narrow tunnel. Blinding white light filled his perception—then total darkness.
In a luxurious hospital room, a young man lay on a bed. The room was silent, broken only by the steady beeping of a monitor beside him.
The young man's fingers twitched. His eyelids fluttered.
Then Kang Ji-hoon opened his eyes.
The first thing he felt was confusion. He stared at the high, pristine ceiling. His head felt unbearably heavy. Slowly, he tried to turn his head.
The room around him was nothing like an ordinary hospital ward. There was a leather sofa, a mahogany table, and a vase filled with fresh flowers. Large windows were covered by thick curtains.
This isn't a public hospital, he thought. It's too luxurious.
He tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced him back onto the pillow. That was when a flood of chaotic memories crashed into his mind.
Two sets of memories collided.
One was his own: Kang Ji-hoon, editor, Seoul, rain, a car accident.
The other belonged to someone else: Kang Min-jae, eighteen years old, son of a missing scientist, a prospective Hunter Academy student whose enrollment had been delayed due to an accident.
Who am I?
The thought sent panic surging through him.
With great effort, he tried to sit up again—and succeeded. Across the room stood a large mirror. Ji-hoon stared at his reflection.
The face looking back at him was not his own.
It was younger, with a sharp jawline and large eyes. Handsome—but completely unfamiliar.
"This… isn't me," he murmured. His voice was hoarse, strange to his own ears.
Yet Min-jae's memories gradually grew clearer. He "remembered" the accident—a black car clipping him. He "remembered" being treated in this family hospital. He "remembered" his uncle, Dae-hyun, who had looked after him since his father disappeared.
And he "remembered" the most important thing of all:
This world was not the one he knew.
Twenty years ago, phenomena called "Gates" had appeared—portals to other dimensions filled with monsters and mysterious resources. Humans with special abilities, known as Hunters, entered these Gates to confront the dangers inside. Society itself had been reshaped by their existence.
Ji-hoon felt nauseous. Transmigration?
It was a trope he had read and edited countless times. But now, it was happening to him—for real.
The door opened.
A well-dressed middle-aged man entered. His expression was stern, but his eyes showed exhaustion and worry. This was Dae-hyun—Min-jae's uncle, and a high-ranking official in the Hunter guild known as Chrono Vanguard.
"Min-jae? You're awake?" His voice was deep and steady.
Ji-hoon hesitated. The two identities inside him pulled at each other. In the end, Min-jae's memories took the lead.
"Uncle…" he said, his voice still rough.
Dae-hyun approached and sat beside the bed. "The doctor says you'll make a full recovery. Your head injury has healed, but you were in a coma for three days. We were very worried."
"Where… am I?" Ji-hoon asked, choosing a safe question.
"At the family hospital, as usual. Everything's been taken care of." Dae-hyun exhaled slowly. "Min-jae, about the academy…"
The Hunter Academy. Ji-hoon remembered. Min-jae was supposed to enroll six months ago, but the accident had delayed everything. His family had placed great hopes on him—especially after his father's mysterious disappearance.
But Ji-hoon, now inhabiting this body, wasn't a prospective Hunter. He was just an editor. He had no combat ability.
"I… need some time," he said quietly. The conflict inside him felt like a raging storm.
Dae-hyun nodded, though his gaze remained sharp. "I understand. But remember, the re-enrollment deadline is next week. If you miss it, you'll have to wait another year. And given your father's situation, it's better for you to secure a strong position among Hunters."
His father's situation. Memories of Dr. Kang Min-soo surfaced—a passionate scientist obsessed with researching dimensional resonance. One year ago, he had vanished after an incident at the Ouroboros Research Division. Official reports called it a laboratory accident, but his body was never found. Rumors of conspiracy abounded.
Ji-hoon's head throbbed again. Too much information. Too much pressure.
"I understand, Uncle," he said, forcing himself to mimic Min-jae's obedient tone. "I'll think about it."
Dae-hyun seemed satisfied, or at least unwilling to push further. He stood. "Get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow." As he reached the door, he paused. "And Min-jae… welcome back."
After the door closed, Ji-hoon stared at the mirror once more. The unfamiliar face stared back.
So this is real, he thought. I died. Then I was brought here. Into someone else's body. In a world with monsters and Hunters.
Panic threatened to rise again. He wanted to scream, to deny everything. But he knew it was pointless.
Then, his old instincts as an editor kicked in.
If this were a story, he thought, this would be Chapter One. The protagonist arrives in a new world—confused and afraid. The conflicts are already waiting: family pressure, a missing father, a dangerous Hunter Academy.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Ji-hoon might be an editor, but he was also someone who had survived a car accident and a forced transmigration. Now, he had to survive here.
His gaze drifted to the window. The curtains were tightly closed, but he could imagine the world outside—a strange world filled with Gates and Hunters. A world where Kang Ji-hoon, in the body of Kang Min-jae, had to find his place.
First, I need to learn, he thought. Understand this world. Understand the role I'm expected to play. Then decide my own path.
Yet behind his growing resolve, one question continued to haunt him:
That voice he heard before the transmigration… what was it?
And why had it chosen him?