Chapter 1
At first, I honestly thought I had been transported to another dimension—the kind I had only ever read about in novels.
I mean, I was just getting ready for school, already in my uniform, when I suddenly fell into a completely unfamiliar world. It felt exactly like the opening of a typical fantasy story.
The problem was, in none of the dimension-transfer stories I’d read did anyone get dragged along with their parents.
In fact, it wasn’t just my family. The neighbors next door, the people next to them, the old lady who ran the local grocery store, the hair salon staff, even the delivery driver who had come by… When we gathered and counted, there were thirty-eight of us.
About half the neighborhood had been swept up in that bizarre phenomenon overnight, without a single warning sign.
A crimson sky stretched endlessly above us, a ghastly full moon hung low and bright, and a towering structure twisted unnaturally as it rose into the heavens. It was a scene that didn’t feel real in the slightest.
Naturally, everyone panicked.
What is this? Is this a dream? A hallucination? It looks like a sci-fi movie set. Is this some kind of prank? Ghosts? Aliens? But what about school? Work? We can go back, right…?
As confusion slowly gave way to unease, that unease soon turned into fear.
Because survival became more urgent than returning home.
The place we had been dropped into was a massive, circular stone chamber. There were no doors leading out—only a spiral staircase standing in the center. When we leaned out the window, we saw a dizzying cliff below and, above us, a tower stretching endlessly into the sky.
The tower defied the laws of physics, bending at impossible angles, looking as though it might collapse at any moment.
Despite its ominous appearance, we didn’t even have time to seriously consider climbing the stairs.
Our choice was taken away from us.
At some point, monsters began pouring down from above, attacking people.
The thirty-eight of us dwindled quickly.
Like waves at high tide, the monsters would surge into the first floor at regular intervals, attacking us. After a while, they would retreat just as suddenly, even spitting out the people they had been chewing on before disappearing back up the staircase.
We would barely manage to regroup and steady ourselves when they would return again.
Each time, the number of survivors decreased.
And decreased.
And decreased.
Until, in the end, thirty-eight became just one.
Me.
By that point, survival didn’t matter anymore.
I wanted revenge.
Alone, I had no need for survival or return. Acting half-mad, I threw myself up the tower—the very nest of those monsters. It was no different from a suicide attempt.
To be honest, I can’t say I didn’t intend it that way at all.
And yet, I didn’t die.
How long did it take me to climb the tower, killing monsters one by one, floor by floor? Months? Decades?
I couldn’t tell.
In that strange world, time seemed frozen. The sky remained eternally crimson, the moon forever full and unmoving. My nails and hair didn’t grow either.
But one thing was certain—
A very long time had passed.
Long enough for the despair and hatred that once consumed me to wear down and erode completely.
When my thirst for revenge faded, what remained next… was it a sense of duty?
A pitiful sense of obligation, born from the guilt of being the only one who survived while the other thirty-seven—including my parents—died. A feeling that I had to kill even one more of those monsters.
And finally, when I reached the very top of the tower—
“Kiiiaaaagh—!”
The monster screamed as its own severed horn pierced through its neck, its cry leaking out in a gurgling wail.
Then—
Thud.
Its massive head fell to the ground and lay still.
“Huff… huff….”
Standing atop the corpse of the leader monster, I struggled to catch my breath.
It was over.
Finally.
Not a single one remained.
…But what was the point?
With my anger, sorrow, and purpose all gone, there was nothing left inside me.
I was tired.
Ah… right.
Now, I just wanted rest.
But life has never once given me what I wanted in the way I wanted it.
The moment I killed the leader, the precariously assembled tower began to collapse with a thunderous crash.
Even so, I felt no sense of danger, no survival instinct. I didn’t even try to dodge. I simply stood there, grinding the last monster’s head beneath my foot.
Crack.
Something split apart.
The air itself tore open and swallowed me whole.
I didn’t resist.
And yet, even then, rest did not come.
It felt as though a giant monster had chewed me up and spat me out.
When the crushing pressure on my body finally disappeared, I slowly opened my eyes.
And what I saw was—
Ah.
The sky…
was blue.
My hearing returned a moment after my sight.
“—Hey, a rift just opened! Something came out—start casting immediately! Tank, what are you doing?!”
“Wait… isn’t that… a person?”
“What? How would a person come out of a gate?!”
“No, seriously—hey, then… is that a Returnee?”
Unfamiliar Korean voices poured in from all directions. The hostility I had grown used to had faded, and I could sense people cautiously approaching.
Only then did I lower my gaze from the bright blue sky and look around.
No stone walls. No monsters.
Asphalt. Concrete. Skyscrapers. People.
People.
Humans.
Earth.
I couldn’t even laugh.
Whether it had been months… or decades—
I had returned.
The people who had been murmuring around me made a few calls, whispering among themselves. Soon, a black sedan arrived at the scene. A man in a suit stepped out and approached me.
He introduced himself as a member of the Hunter Association—a department head of some sort. The only “department head” I knew was the leader of a school club, so I had no idea whether that was an important position or what it entailed.
Not that I had the energy to care.
“Director Choi,” as he asked to be called, asked me a few questions before suggesting we go to the Hunter Association together. I had no reason to refuse, so I agreed without much thought and got into the car with him.
On the way, Director Choi cheerfully explained how the world had changed.
It hadn’t been months or decades.
It had been exactly four years.
The time I had been trapped in the tower.
In those four years, the world had named the phenomenon I experienced and the monsters I fought. They had organized systems to deal with them.
Words like “Gate,” “Hunter,” and “Magic Beast” had become part of everyday language.
Even knowing it had only been four years, it felt like far longer.
I was talking to people again after what felt like decades, but instead of feeling moved, everything just felt… dull.
Numb.
Unreal.
It was all over now.
I just wanted to rest.
In contrast, Director Choi looked barely able to contain his excitement.
“Four years ago—that was right at the beginning of the Gate phenomenon. Incredible… A first-generation Hunter Returnee, and we didn’t even know for four years… Ah, do you have any family you’d like to contact? Once we reach headquarters, you’ll be busy with tests and procedures, so it’s best to do it now.”
I stared blankly at the phone he offered with both hands.
…Even with my social skills completely reset, I could tell that a middle-aged man treating a high school girl with such extreme politeness wasn’t normal.
Whether it was professionalism or because this “Returnee” status was something extraordinary—I didn’t know.
“….”
Honestly, I didn’t care.
When I remained still like a doll, Director Choi hesitated awkwardly before giving a strained smile.
Only then did I realize I was supposed to respond.
See? My social skills really were gone.
I took the phone belatedly, and his smile became more relaxed.
I stared at the smartphone in my hand.
Even back in 2021, smartphones were already widespread. Now it was 2025.
The design and interface had changed a bit, but not enough to make it difficult to use.
Still, I held it silently for a moment.
My parents had been with me when we were dragged into the tower—into what these people called a “Gate.”
They had died there long ago.
I was an only child. I might have relatives somewhere, but I didn’t remember their numbers.
I had no one to contact.
And strangely, that didn’t make me sad.
I was about to return the phone when I noticed Director Choi focused on something on his tablet, so I simply stayed quiet.
Instead, I began fiddling with the phone and opened the internet.
Even after years cut off from modern civilization, some instincts don’t fade.
The moment I entered a portal site, the front page was flooded with headlines:
“Appearance of a Returnee,” “Korea’s Returnee,” “The Seventh Returnee—Who Are They?”
…So Returnees weren’t that rare?
I tapped one article absentmindedly. A news clip began playing.
Skipping ahead, I watched as the anchor pointed to a video clip.
[Let’s watch the moment again. Just as the “Mariaz” strike team prepared for battle after responding to a sudden rift report—what emerged was not a dungeon break, but a person! Yes, a person came out of the Gate! A Returnee! The first Returnee in Korea! At last, Korea has joined the ranks of nations with Returnees!]
The serious tone turned increasingly heated, like a World Cup broadcast.
In the live footage playing in the corner of the screen, a girl in a school uniform fell out of a tear in midair and stood there blankly, staring at the sky.
…That was me.
So Returnees weren’t common.
It was the opposite.
They were celebrating just one?
The “seventh” must mean worldwide.
I blinked slowly and turned my head at the faint sound of laughter.
Director Choi was smiling at me.
Ah… the sound must have carried over when I played the video.
After being alone for so long, I’d even forgotten basic public manners.
Fortunately, he didn’t seem to mind, so I continued browsing.
I wasn’t looking for anything in particular—just following old habits. It seemed that even years inside a Gate couldn’t erase a civilized person’s instinct to kill time with a smartphone.
Scroll.
Scroll.
As I flicked through the screen, my finger suddenly stopped on a familiar face in a thumbnail.
A live broadcast titled:
<Sea God Guild Team 1 Live Raid Broadcast>.
I didn’t care about guilds or raids.
But that person—
I recognized them instantly.
They looked much more mature than the last time I saw them, but still—
There was no mistaking that face.
“…Namhae?”
