Jaemin whispered with a low smirk.
"Recover."
An emerald glow rippled outward from his chest, subtle at first—then surging like liquid light over every inch of his broken body. The bite wounds, the crushed ribs, the bleeding shoulder—all of it stitched itself shut in seconds.
Muscles reknit, bones snapped into place with muffled cracks, and the pain that had clawed at every nerve dulled to nothing. He exhaled slow, flexing his fingers, rolling his shoulder.
Back to square one.
His eyes flicked to Fenrarik—still standing, still steaming. That hulking bastard wasn't going to get a second chance.
He wasted zero time.
Jaemin lunged with speed that cut the air like blades. A whisper of wind trailed him as he soared forward. His daggers, Binary Stars, gleamed with cyan and violet, and in one clean motion—
SLASH!!
The blade pierced through the Abyssal's eye. Fenrarik howled—no, screamed, its throat bursting with rage and agony. But Jaemin didn't stop. Not this time.
STAB. SLASH. STAB.
The second dagger buried into its other eye, carving deep, followed by a series of relentless slashes. Left, right, over and over—stripping away its vision, making sure this beast saw nothing but darkness before death.
Then, with a brutal pull, Jaemin dragged both daggers from the sockets up to its skull, slicing through hide and bone.
The movement was fluid, controlled, and merciless. He leapt to its back, slicing a crimson line down its spine and into its lower torso, carving through thick fur and pale-gray flesh.
He leapt off—only to summon a bolt of thunder straight from the clouds above.
The sky rumbled in response, and a streak of divine lightning came screaming down.
BOOM!
The bolt cracked against the beast's back, its body convulsing violently from the voltage. The sheer force flattened the earth beneath it.
Silence followed. The beast collapsed—finally, completely.
Jaemin crouched, breathing heavy. Steam rose from the creature's corpse. His clothes clung to his frame, soaked in blood and sweat. But his eyes were still sharp. His aura still alive.
He stood, walking toward the beast's steaming body with practiced calm.
Now came the real reward.
First, he noticed the shards—jagged bits of core crystal embedded around the chest. Then, thick patches of warm fur and scales, still radiating Abyssal heat. He reached out, pulling a large piece off with effort. Its texture was rugged, but the strength it held was unreal.
The teeth—long and curved, almost like small daggers themselves—would be perfect to forge into core-dagger enhancements.
He plucked three from the mouth, careful not to cut himself.
And then the horns. Curved like a ram, but larger than any weapon he'd ever seen. The same horns that bulldozed him through that tower earlier.
"…Could make a sick shield out of this."
Jaemin muttered, inspecting the surface.
"Not like I need it though."
He smirked. His body was stronger than half the tanks deployed in Rift raids these days. Might as well sell it.
He pulled his bag off his shoulder and started packing everything—horns, scales, core shards, and teeth. Some were too big, so he tossed those out directly through the rift gate, aiming straight for his living room.
With a flick of his fingers, small piles of glowing Rift crystals followed—tossed one after another through the invisible tear in space.
"Damn."
He muttered, looking around at the mess Fenrarik left behind.
"So much stuff."
Then he paused, eyes glancing upward into the still sky of his personal rift.
A fake moon. Fake stars. And yet it felt real.
"There are more tiers."
He said to himself quietly.
"And I know it ends somewhere."
He glanced deeper into the dark expanse of the rift that stretched beyond the remains of Gangnam. He knew the structure of this place now—this rift, born from his Core, forged from his will, was endless.
He could shape it. Tier it. Manipulate every floor, every enemy, every reward.
But the higher the tier… the stronger the threats.
It wasn't fear that made him stop.
Just calculation.
"It's a long shot if I go for it today…"
He murmured, dusting his clothes off, and grabbing one last piece of loot.
"I'll reach it soon. Someday."
Not today.
With a low breath, Jaemin turned, and the rift behind him shimmered closed like glass cracking in reverse. Light folded in. And then—
He was home.
His small apartment was littered with the goods he tossed in: cores, beast parts, shards, even some fur lying casually across his table.
The storm still raged outside—the clouds heavy with static, the kind that didn't let up. A side effect of his Core of Tempest, still blanketing Seoul in that eerie twilight.
But inside…
It was warm. Still. And finally, quiet.
Jaemin quickly changed into something comfortable—black joggers, a plain tee, a breathable jacket. No fluff, just freedom to move. His body still hummed faintly with residual heat from the storm, but it didn't matter.
He stared at the ten massive bags—five in each hand—stuffed with Rift crystals and materials. Each one was overflowing. He took a breath, then headed toward the nearest local Crystal Exchange.
It was a modest, government-affiliated outlet downtown. A quiet building with low foot traffic, but enough security to handle risky individuals. Jaemin walked in, dropped the bags near the front desk, and let the staff scan through the contents one by one.
Ten minutes passed.
Then came the amount.
₩5,221,836,000.
Five billion won. His heart skipped. His face froze. Even the staff looked at him like he'd just walked in from another planet.
"...No way."
He muttered under his breath, blinking at the amount on the screen.
"I just made more than Korea's top idol groups... in one day."
He didn't cry, but his fingers curled slightly, trembling with a strange mix of disbelief and relief. For the first time in years, the constant weight on his back felt... manageable.
He accepted the transfer with a quiet nod, thanked the clerks, and stepped out.
The sunlight was still dull—gloomy skies holding over Seoul like a curtain, but to Jaemin, it was the brightest the world had looked in months.
He headed to a nearby convenience store. The automatic doors slid open with a quiet ding, and he grabbed a cart.
Milk. Real fruit juice. Imported ramyeon. Chicken. Eggs. Cheddar slices. Tteokbokki packs. He threw in bags of frozen dumplings, premium rice, energy drinks, some sweets for Nari. Shit he'd never have even glanced at before without checking price tags first.
He even bought two tubs of strawberry yogurt.
"...She likes that brand, right?"
He muttered to himself, smiling softly.
By the time he left the store, his cart was overflowing and his heart was full. Not with pride. Just peace.
He reached his apartment, took his shoes off with a practiced kick, and started organizing everything neatly. Fridge. Pantry. Countertops. Cleaning the kitchen. Wiping surfaces.
It was muscle memory now.
Ever since his mom fell into that coma and Nari had started college, he'd picked up every single chore in the house like clockwork. Cook. Clean. Pay the bills. Work. Sleep. Survive.
Now?
He was finally living.
He slumped onto the couch, half-buried in the jacket he threw aside earlier, and reached over to his phone. Tapped the screen lazily.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed.
A familiar name lit up the screen.
"Yoon Taeha."
Jaemin sighed as he picked up.
"What now?"
"HYUUNG-NIIIIM!!!"
Taeha's voice exploded through the speaker, full of his usual chaotic energy.
"It's been like, what—two whole days since we last spoke!"
"...We spoke yesterday."
"Exactly! Two days ago."
Jaemin rubbed his temple, leaning back on the couch.
"Spare the small talk. What do you want?"
"Right, right."
Taeha coughed dramatically.
"A lot of paperwork's almost done. Like, a mountain. I've been recruiting a few freelancers here and there to meet the mandatory ten Rift raids quota. It's going okay-ish, I guess? Don't worry, Hyung-nim."
It was not going okay.
To get approval for their Covenant to officially exist, they needed to complete ten Rift Raids—split between Tier 5, 4, and 3. Normally doable.
But the twist?
Everyone on the team had to be newly awakened. That was Jaemin's request. A special condition he'd messaged Taeha about a few days ago.
He never explained why. Taeha didn't ask. He just agreed—because it was Jaemin.
Still, it made things a nightmare. Most potential recruits were immediately suspicious.
Who would join a raid group full of rookies?
But Taeha pushed through. Calls. DMs. Recruitment boards. He was burning through every connection he had, all to prove himself. And to prove that Jaemin wasn't wrong in choosing him.
Jaemin could tell the guy was trying harder than anyone.
"Keep doing your work, Taeha,"
Jaemin finally said, his voice calm.
"Don't worry too much. You'll find your way around."
There was a short silence on the other side. Then a quiet, surprised.
"…Yeah. Got it."
Jaemin ended the call.
He stood up, stretching his arms with a quiet groan. The calm evening had only lasted a few minutes before—
BZZZ.
His phone buzzed again.
This time, it wasn't a name. It was a system notification.
[Rift Raid Available: Tier 4][No Covenant Jurisdiction Detected]
That was all Jaemin needed to see.
He didn't hesitate. In a flash, he grabbed his gear bag, locked the front door behind him, and vanished down the stairs.
The sun had already begun to dip beneath the horizon when Jaemin reached the designated Rift location.
An abandoned parking complex near the outskirts of Seoul. Cracked concrete, weeds curling through the edges of pillars, and old rebar poking out from what looked like earthquake damage. And right at the center—hovering like a pulse of violet fire—was the Tier 4 Rift Gate. It swirled ominously, casting long shadows against the faded asphalt.
He spotted the others immediately.
There were only four gathered.
Two stood close to one another, whispering in low voices—one tall, broad-shouldered, with a buzz cut and a large scar running down his jaw. The other had dyed blue hair, a cocky grin, and leaned against a broken pillar like he owned the place.
The remaining two were standing apart, closer to the gate.
A girl with long silver hair, neatly braided, was adjusting the straps of her light armor. Her posture was precise. Disciplined.
Beside her stood a boy with big round glasses and a jittery look in his eyes. He clutched a staff tightly and kept shifting his weight from foot to foot like he wanted to turn around and bolt at any moment.
They all looked up when Jaemin approached.
"That's the last one."
The girl with the braid said, nodding to him.
"You're Han Jaemin?"
"Yeah."
He said.
"You four the team?"
The scar-jawed man grunted.
"So you're the one that rushed in last-minute. We were told we'd be waiting on one more. Not a bad looker, I'll give you that."
Jaemin ignored the comment and glanced over the group again.
Five people.
One Tier 4 Rift.
He could solo this if he wanted to. But part of him was curious about how the others would hold up.
"I'm Kwon Mina."
The girl with the braid said, holding out a hand.
"Velocity Core. Scout and pathfinder. Let's work well together."
"Jaemin," he said simply, shaking her hand.
"I'm Eun Doyoon!"
The kid with glasses blurted, giving a nervous bow.
"Auxiliary Core. I specialize in shielding and basic healing… I-I've never done a Tier 4 though, so, um, please don't die or anything…"
Jaemin blinked.
"Noted."
"Name's Jin Haseok."
The blue-haired one drawled, finally pushing off the pillar.
"Auxiliary Core. Buffs, tracking, and disruption. But honestly, you won't need me if muscle-man over here just swings fast enough."
"Lee Hyuksu. Bastion Core."
the scarred man said flatly, arms crossed.
"You can call me Lee, or don't. Just don't get in my way."
Haseok clapped him on the back with a laugh.
"Don't mind Hyuksu. He acts tough but the only thing he's in love with is his reflection."
"I tolerate fools, not flattery."
Hyuksu muttered, brushing the hand off.
Jaemin quietly took in the dynamic.
Mina was not a pro but clean, respectful.
Doyoon was nervous but sincere.
Hyuksu and Haseok, though… their vibe was a little off. Not in terms of danger, but more like they were used to calling the shots in their own way. And then there was Jaemin, who had no intention of leading them—at least not officially.
But he wasn't about to follow, either.
Jaemin stood still as the introductions and planning unfolded.
He said nothing.
He didn't need to.
"Okay."
Mina clapped her hands once.
"Here's the plan. I'll go ahead and mark a clean route. Doyoon stays in the backline—stick to defensive spells and keep the support radius tight."
"Sounds easy enough."
Doyoon nodded nervously.
Haseok cracked his knuckles.
"I'll run center. Disrupt whatever mobs come from the left or right. Got a few new tricks I've been wanting to try."
"And I'll cover you from the front."
Hyuksu grunted.
"Tank duty's mine. Don't get in my way."
Mina raised an eyebrow at that but didn't argue.
Jaemin, arms crossed, listened quietly. Not a word. No complaints. No suggestions. Just… there.
They all turned to him for a moment.
"You good with that?"
Mina asked, politely.
Jaemin gave a small shrug.
"Sure."
"Any Core specialization?"
"Precision."
"Got it."
That was all he said.
He didn't step up. He didn't lead. He didn't even act like he cared who did what.
He was just there to move forward. To pass time. To clear another Rift.
The group shuffled into position. Mina unsheathed a pair of lightweight daggers. Hyuksu secured his buckler onto his arm.
Doyoon adjusted the straps on his staff's harness, already sweating. Haseok tightened his gloves, a smirk playing on his lips.
The Rift Gate began pulsing.
A deep hum rippled across the parking lot, followed by a heavy wave of heat—like the world itself was inhaling.
Jaemin stared into the swirling violet.
No fear. No thrill.
Just calm.
Like a man stepping into rain without an umbrella.
"Let's move."
Mina called, and leapt into the gate.
One by one, the others followed.
Jaemin was the last to walk in—hands in his pockets, gaze flat, steps silent.