The Sacrificed Porter
Today was rent day for the filthy apartment in the eastern district, and Michael had to make sure he came home with money.
That was the only reason the skinny young man with messy black hair was willing to step into this damp, Rank C Dungeon.
He was nothing more than an E-Rank Porter. His job was simple and miserable. He had to carry a large pack filled with supplies, spare mana stones, and monster loot belonging to the elite Hunters striding proudly ahead of him.
Not a single member of the A-Rank Party in front bothered to look back to see whether Michael was still breathing.
To them, Michael was nothing more than a talking pack mule.
Ellian walked at the very front, his silver armor gleaming under the glow of the cave’s bioluminescent moss. He was the team leader of the renowned White Tiger Guild. Every step he took radiated excessive confidence and the kind of arrogance possessed only by those born with high-level fire magic talent.
Beside him was Michel. The woman was a Healer, clad in a pristine white robe that somehow bore not a single stain of mud. From time to time, she glanced at Michael with a look that was hard to decipher. Perhaps it was pity, or perhaps it was nothing more than disgust at seeing someone so weak struggling to survive in this brutal world.
Water dripped from the cave walls, carrying the stench of sulfur and stale blood.
Michael tightened his grip on the straps of his backpack, which were beginning to cut into the skin of his shoulders. His legs trembled with every step on the slick stone floor. He had been walking for four hours without rest because Ellian wanted to break the record for clearing this Dungeon.
If Michael stopped, he wouldn’t be paid. If he wasn’t paid, he would be thrown out of the only place he could call home.
Life for those without combat talent in this post-Convergence era really was that cruel.
People were judged by how quickly they could kill monsters or how much mana their bodies could hold. Someone like Michael, whose mana capacity was no more than a shot glass, was only fit to become cheap labor on the front lines.
“Hey, Porter. Pick up the pace. We’re almost at the Boss room.”
Ellian’s voice echoed through the narrow corridor. His tone was commanding, leaving no room for objection.
Michael took a deep breath to calm his burning lungs. He forced his legs to move faster, even as his calf muscles screamed in protest.
“Yes, Sir Ellian. I’m right behind you.”
His voice came out hoarse from dehydration. He didn’t dare drink his own ration of water, afraid Ellian would get angry if he wasted even a single second.
At last, they arrived before a massive gate made of pitch-black stone. Carvings of skulls and serpents adorned its surface. A dense aura of death seeped through the cracks in the door, making the hairs on the back of Michael’s neck stand on end.
This was the Boss room.
Normally, Porters were told to wait outside or hide in a safe corner while the Hunters fought. That was the standard safety procedure set by the Hunter Association.
But Ellian gave no order to stop.
Instead, the man broke into a wide grin as he pushed the enormous stone door open with one hand. The heavy grinding of stone filled the space as the door slowly opened.
The darkness inside seemed alive, staring back at them.
“Go in. We’ll finish this in ten minutes.”
Ellian walked in casually. The other party members followed behind him with weapons drawn. Michael hesitated for a moment. His instincts screamed danger. A primal fear clenched his heart.
But he needed the money.
So Michael swallowed hard and forced his legs to step into the vast Boss room.
The chamber was shaped like a gigantic dome, its ceiling so high it vanished from sight. The floor was littered with dried bones of monsters and humans alike. A putrid stench assaulted Michael’s nose and made him want to vomit.
Suddenly, the torches along the walls ignited all at once with ghostly blue flames.
The light revealed a horrifying figure sleeping at the center of the room.
It was a Chimera.
The creature had the body of a lion as large as a cargo truck, with a goat’s head growing from its back and a massive rattlesnake for a tail. Scales and fur covered its body in an unnatural pattern.
The lion’s eyes slowly opened. Those yellow, vertical pupils locked onto them instantly.
The pressure in the room changed drastically. Michael felt as though a massive stone was crushing his chest. His legs gave out.
“This… this isn’t a Rank C Boss.”
Michel the Healer spoke in a trembling voice. Her face had gone deathly pale as she clutched her staff with violently shaking hands.
Ellian stopped smiling. He stared at the monster with widened eyes.
“Rank B. No. Maybe Rank A. This is a Dungeon anomaly.”
The Chimera rose to its feet and roared. The shockwave from its roar sent Michael flying backward. The heavy pack on his back slammed hard against the floor.
They all knew what this meant.
They wouldn’t win. The difference in power between Rank C and Rank A was like the difference between a rabbit and a tiger.
“Retreat! We have to run, now!”
One of the party members screamed in panic as he turned toward the exit.
But the massive stone door suddenly slammed shut on its own with a deafening boom, crushing their hope.
They were trapped.
The Chimera lowered its body, preparing to pounce. Its serpent tail hissed loudly, dripping green venom that sizzled as it hit the stone floor.
Ellian’s eyes darted wildly in search of an escape. He looked at the sealed door, then at the Chimera, and finally his gaze fell on Michael, who was struggling to get up from the floor.
A thin, cruel smile formed on Ellian’s lips.
“All of you. Listen to my command.”
Ellian spoke calmly amid the panic.
“That door will take about thirty seconds to force open with my explosive magic. But that monster will kill us in five seconds if we turn our backs on it.”
“Then what are we supposed to do?!” Michel screamed hysterically. Tears of fear streamed down her cheeks.
“We need bait.”
The words slipped out of Ellian’s mouth effortlessly.
Michael’s blood ran cold. He followed Ellian’s line of sight. The man wasn’t looking at the monster.
He was looking straight at Michael.
“Wait. Sir Ellian. What do you mean?”
Michael tried to crawl backward, dragging his body across the floor. The heavy pack made it hard to move.
Ellian didn’t answer with words.
He moved like lightning. Before Michael could even blink, Ellian was already in front of him. His armored boot swung hard and smashed into Michael’s right knee.
The sound of bone breaking echoed horribly through the silent chamber.
Agonizing pain exploded through Michael’s leg. He screamed, but his voice was drowned out by Ellian’s cold laughter.
“Sorry, Porter. But among all of us, your life is the cheapest. Think of this as your contribution to the progress of humanity.”
Ellian then kicked Michael square in the chest, sending the young man flying several meters into the center of the room. Right in front of the Chimera’s hungry face.
The stench of the monster’s breath washed over Michael. It smelled of rotting flesh and death.
“Run! Now!”
Ellian shouted to his companions. He began chanting an explosive spell at the stone door while Michael lay helpless on the floor with a shattered leg.
Michel the Healer glanced back for a split second. She saw Michael reaching out, begging for help.
“Help me… Michel…”
The woman turned her face away and ran after Ellian. She chose her own life over saving trash like Michael.
That betrayal hurt more than the shattered bone in his leg.
Michael was alone.
He stared up at the towering cave ceiling. He could hear the explosion at the entrance and the sound of their footsteps fading away. They made it out. They survived by sacrificing him.
This world really was rotten.
The weak were always food for the strong. It was an unwritten law of nature, yet absolute.
A massive shadow fell over Michael’s body.
The Chimera stood above him. Thick saliva dripped from the lion’s mouth, packed with razor-sharp teeth. The goat’s head on its back bleated with a sound that resembled mocking laughter.
Michael knew this was the end.
He had no weapon. He had no mana. He had no one who would mourn him.
With trembling hands, Michael reached into the torn pocket of his pants. He pulled out a small object he carried with him wherever he went.
An old pocket watch that no longer worked.
It was a keepsake from his father, who had disappeared inside a Dungeon ten years ago. The glass was cracked, and its hands were frozen at twelve.
“Father…”
Michael clutched the watch tightly against his chest. Tears of frustration and hatred flowed from the corners of his eyes.
He didn’t want to die like this.
He wanted to live. He wanted revenge. He wanted to see Ellian’s arrogant face crumble in fear.
“I swear…!”
