DPGR 75

The search of the Taean dungeon began in earnest.

Combat-type espers who specialized in water manipulation—and the support-types related to them—were deployed under the command of the Dungeon Forecasting Center.

“What exactly are we supposed to be looking for?”

“They said there’s a dungeon.”

“Right, but they should at least tell us where it is if they want us to find it.”

“Ha… Didn’t they say it came from an anonymous report? Feels like a prank call to me.”

Naturally, complaints piled up among the espers forced to continue searching without any proper explanation.

“Director, do we have even a rough location of where the informant said it might be?”

“Well… they only said it’s somewhere in the waters off Taean…”

The director of the Dungeon Search HQ, who was in charge of the operation, looked just as frustrated.

He was following orders directly from the Esper Director himself—but that didn’t make things any easier.

Why on earth are we combing the sea like this? At least give us a proper reason.

Even the claim about an anonymous report felt dubious. Why would anyone bypass the Dungeon Forecasting Center and report directly to the Esper Director?

And asking us to keep checking previously searched areas over and over? That’s weird too.

For Changwook, who had to consider the possibility that the Taean dungeon hadn’t fully manifested yet, giving vague instructions was the best he could do.

But the HQ director, unaware of these circumstances, was stuck juggling his own team’s growing frustration.

“Come on now, let’s hang in there just a bit longer. If there really is a dungeon and we miss it, we’re in big trouble.”

“Sigh…”

“This is about saving innocent lives. Let’s keep pushing.”

Fortunately, the director had always maintained good relationships with the espers, and that goodwill showed now.

When he brought up the lives of civilians with his usual friendly smile, even the weary espers reluctantly started moving again.

Among them, the director’s gaze landed on one especially driven esper.

That was So Yulchan, who recently got promoted to S-rank, wasn’t it?

One of the younger espers, Yulchan was fervently committed to the search, tirelessly scanning the area without rest.

Maybe it was because he’d just become S-rank, or maybe it was just youthful enthusiasm.

He’s really giving it his all. Like he truly believes there’s a dungeon here.

The way he reshaped space underwater to aid the search looked almost surreal.

The director smiled to himself, thinking he’d report Yulchan’s dedication to the Esper Director.

That’s when it happened.

“I—I found it!”

“…?”

“A dungeon! I’ve located the dungeon entrance!”

A voice shouted from afar, and the director, along with all nearby espers, turned toward it.

The esper who’d claimed to find it held something high over his head.

Beep—beep—beep—

The device in his hand, used to detect dungeon pulses, blared loudly.

“……!”

In that instant, the sluggish mood flipped on its head.

***

—We interrupt with breaking news. An S-rank dungeon has just manifested in the skies above Yokohama, Japan. According to the Japanese government…

A grim emergency report spilled out from every TV and radio.

“…So it’s finally happened.”

Watching the news in the office, Dojin let out a heavy sigh.

The one thing he’d hoped wouldn’t come had finally arrived.

“The location is Taean waters. It’s an A-rank, large-scale dungeon. Due to the terrain, geographical prediction tools are unusable.”

“Hm… How long until dungeon break?”

“Four days…”

“A large A-rank, and only four days?”

“…Damn.”

The Dungeon Forecasting Center fell into chaos. The dungeon they’d just barely managed to find turned out to be a massive ticking time bomb.

It was fortunate that they found it before the break, but now the pressure of clearing a large-scale A-rank dungeon in just four days bore down on everyone.

And Taean wasn’t the only concern.

“…What about Japan? Are we sending any support for their dungeon?”

Just yesterday, a medium S-rank dungeon had opened in Japan.

Citing civilian safety, the Japanese government had dispatched an esper strike force to attack it—a seasoned military esper unit with a long track record of conquering dangerous dungeons.

They had even cleared S-rank dungeons before, so the news of their deployment had reassured the Japanese public.

But just half a day later—that confidence shattered completely.

“The entire unit wiped out… just like that?”

The Japanese government announced that contact had been completely lost with the special operations team that entered the dungeon just half a day into the raid.

People had anxiously waited through the night for any updates, but not a single word came—no messages sent, none received.

Public opinion quickly leaned toward the belief that the entire team had perished inside.

Then, in the early hours of the morning, the Japanese government officially requested aid from Korea.

Now, Changwook found himself at a crossroads he never wanted to face.

“The broadcast?”

“Sorry?”

“The raid broadcast from Japan’s dungeon yesterday. We need at least a general idea of what it’s like inside to come up with a plan.”

Unlike Korea, Japan allowed camera crews to enter dungeons and livestream raid footage in real time.

The raid had only lasted half a day, but that still meant there should be several hours of footage available.

“Ah—yes. Right here.”

Originally broadcast live on YouTube, the stream had been taken down near the end, likely due to its graphic nature.

Still, someone had recorded it, and the video was now spreading like wildfire online. It wasn’t hard to find.

“Let’s take a look.”

With dark circles under his eyes, Changwook nodded toward his secretary.

Click.

The secretary moved quickly and began playback.

On the laptop screen, the special ops espers bustled around, preparing for the raid.

Not knowing they were heading to their deaths, they looked into the camera with confident smiles, saluting proudly.

Meanwhile, inside Alpha Team’s office.

The Alpha team members, huddled around, were also watching the footage.

“Ooh, they’re going in.”

“Shut it, idiot.”

“Sorry…”

Since this was an S-rank dungeon raid, the video crew had recorded everything—from preparations to detailed explanations.

The footage transitioned, and the screen showed the dungeon’s interior.

“It’s so dark.”

“Brightness is maxed out.”

“Is that a forest? Those are trees, right?”

“Yeah. Looks like it.”

Looking at the scene, Dojin narrowed his brow slightly.

A pitch-black night. A dense forest where you couldn’t see an inch ahead.

And deep within it, a gloomy old castle surrounded by overgrown trees.

Exactly like the one from his dream.

As he swallowed hard, the Japanese espers began to move inside the castle.

Creeeaaak—

The rusted hinges squealed as the door opened.

—We’ve been expecting you, guests. Welcome to our ■■■■ Castle.

At the same time, a man with a grotesquely wide grin appeared, bowing with eerie elegance.

“Ugh, what the—! Dammit, that scared me!”

“Hey! You yelling scared me more!”

The team room erupted with shrieks from Kijoon and Jihye, both notoriously jumpy.

It was no surprise things got loud.

Even in the livestream chat box at the bottom corner of the screen—filled with Korean viewers—similar reactions exploded.

[#!^%$&^#!^$]

[Holy crap… What the hell is that thing???]

[s**t, it looked straight at me…]

[tlqkf turn on the blinkers plsㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ ]

Most people couldn’t hide their shock at the man’s appearance on screen.

Dojin felt the same, though for a different reason.

Did someone like that appear in my dream?

For the first time, something in the vision didn’t match what he’d seen before.

Pale like he was caked in white powder, his pupils pitch black, showing no whites at all.

Faded blonde hair. Lips torn wide open almost to his ears.

Sharp teeth visible through his gaping grin, and an old black formal suit.

His appearance was so distinct that there was no way Dojin wouldn’t have remembered if he’d seen him in the dream.

—I am the butler of ■■■■ Castle. A pleasure to meet you.

The man extended his hand to the Japanese espers.

His pale hand flickered faintly with static, looking dirty and corrupted.

One esper, who seemed to be the oldest among them, reached out to shake it—

But his hand passed straight through.

“What the…?”

“Did he just phase through?”

“Is he a ghost…?”

The esper’s hand went right through the man’s.

Now that they looked more closely, his entire body had a faint translucence to it.

—<Damn it! What is this?! Is he a ghost?!>

—<Hiiik! What the hell is going on?>

Panic broke out among the espers in the video.

And that’s when Dojin—and the Alpha team—noticed something odd.

“Wait a sec… All the espers are speaking Japanese…”

“But that ghost guy is speaking Korean?”

Yes. The man in the video was clearly speaking Korean.

“Maybe it’s being automatically translated.”

“Translated?”

“Well, the Japanese espers seem to understand him just fine.”

“Ohh, maybe it’s one of those artifacts.”

“Wait, does that mean… that ghost guy is actually a person?”

“I… don’t think so.”

Amid the confusion, the man—who had introduced himself as a butler—continued speaking.