Chapter 3 – The First Step into Darkness
Ronan stood in the rain, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his skin. The cold wind howled through the empty graveyard as he stared at the simple, unmarked grave where his grandfather had been buried. His chest ached, his body trembling—not from the cold, but from the sheer weight of helplessness.
No one cared. The neighbors who had shown pity returned to their lives, leaving him alone.
His grandfather had worked himself to death just to pay off an unfair tax, and for what? A shallow grave in a forgotten corner of the city? No honor. No respect. No justice.
Ronan exhaled sharply and turned away.
By the time he reached his home, his clothes were soaked through. He barely had the strength to dry off before collapsing onto the worn-out mattress. The exhaustion of the past few days pulled him into an uneasy sleep, but it wasn't peaceful.
Darkness. A suffocating void.
He saw his grandfather's tired face, his voice barely a whisper. "Ronan… find your path."
Ronan woke with a sharp breath. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he gasped, trying to make sense of the dream.
"Grandpa…" He muttered, rubbing his face.
He got up and reached for the small wooden box where his grandfather had kept a few belongings. As he shuffled through it, a folded piece of paper slipped out and landed at his feet. Frowning, he picked it up.
A single line of text was scribbled on it:
"Come to the Black Market."
Ronan's hands shook. His grandfather had always told him to stay away from that place. It was where the desperate and the damned gathered—criminals, mercenaries, and those willing to do anything for money.
But then again… wasn't he desperate?
His fists tightened around the note. I don't care if I die. I have nothing left.
He changed into fresh clothes, put on a hood to conceal his face, and slipped out into the city.
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The Black Market
The Black Market was hidden beneath the slums, its entrance tucked away behind an abandoned warehouse. As Ronan stepped inside, the stench of sweat, alcohol, and blood filled his nostrils. The underground bazaar was packed with people—merchants selling forbidden artifacts, bounty hunters sharpening their weapons, and thieves haggling over stolen goods.
He walked cautiously, following the address on the paper until he reached a rundown building. Inside, a single dim lantern flickered, casting shadows across the wooden walls.
A man sat at a desk, his face hidden beneath a metallic mask.
Ronan hesitated, but before he could speak, the man looked up. "So, you're Altair's grandson." His voice was calm, but there was a sharpness to it. "I was expecting you."
"You knew my grandfather?" Ronan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The man nodded. "Altair was one of the few honest men in this city. A fool, but a good man." He slid a piece of paper across the desk. "Sign this agreement."
Ronan picked it up. "What is this?"
"A contract. If you accept, you cannot speak about what happens here. If you're caught, we will deny knowing you."
Ronan swallowed hard. He knew this was dangerous. He knew he should turn back.
But what other choice did he have?
He took the pen and signed.
The man leaned back. "Good. My name is Federico. I'll be sending you on your first mission."
"Mission?"
Federico smirked. "You want to be a treasure hunter, don't you? The system won't accept commoners through interviews, but if you can prove yourself—if you kill ten monsters in a dungeon—you'll earn a spot in any guild."
Ronan's breath hitched. This was his chance.
A real chance.
He gritted his teeth and nodded. "I'll do it."
Federico chuckled. "That's the spirit." He stood and gestured toward the door. "You won't be going alone. I've gathered a team."
As Ronan stepped outside, he saw six others waiting for him.
A girl with silver hair and piercing blue eyes leaned against the wall, inspecting a dagger. "Tch. Another rookie?"
A broad-shouldered man grinned. "Welcome to the team, kid. Name's Wood."
The others introduced themselves—Luna, Olivia, Hikaru, Minjun, and Piggy. Each of them carried weapons, their eyes sharp with experience. Ronan felt a lump form in his throat.
He was the weakest here.
"Alright, everyone." Federico clapped his hands. "Your destination is a Rank F dungeon outside the city. Complete it, and you'll be one step closer to becoming true treasure hunters."
Hikaru smirked. "Time to make some money."
Wood laughed. "Sixty gold each, baby!"
Ronan took a deep breath.
This was it. His only shot at escaping the life of a worthless commoner.
He gripped the handle of his sword.
I will survive. I will surpass my limits.
And with that, they stepped into the unknown.