The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low

As they neared the Erosion Dungeon, the falling ash thickened.

The once-busy alleyways, roads, sidewalks, and trees were already covered in a layer of white.

The way the ash swirled through the air resembled snowfall—almost beautiful, in a way.

Uijae halted.

A towering wall, higher than a utility pole, blocked the path. Likely a barrier constructed by a Hunter’s ability.

There were no signs of people. It seemed the residents had already been evacuated.

Uijae turned to Little Mackerel, who had followed closely behind.

"The residents?"

"We moved them to the seafood market a few days ago. Didn’t feel right, so we played it safe. Planned to send them back once the Rift Management Bureau handled it, but…"

"You made the right call."

Little Mackerel's expression grew serious.

"Is it really bad?"

"Yeah."

Beyond the wall, something twisted and pulsed ominously—like an active volcano on the verge of eruption.

"It could go off at any moment."

For a brief second, the sight of the dead sea flashed through Uijae’s mind, consuming his vision.

That eerie, lifeless landscape.

He shook his head, forcing the image away.

He had suffered through the Memorial Dungeon for a reason—to learn from a future that wasn’t set in stone.

"I can’t just stand by and watch."

"I have to deal with it now."

Turning, Uijae called out.

"Minggijeok, contact all departments. Tell them to issue a no-entry order for this entire area. Make it wide—up to the seafood market."

"Understood."

"Little Mackerel, you—"

Little Mackerel blinked, waiting for the rest of the sentence.

Uijae hesitated, trying to find the right words.

In the end, he couldn’t.

So instead, he patted Little Mackerel’s shoulder a couple of times.

"Go stay with your brother. Keep an eye on the residents."

"What, are you kicking me out?"

"Quick on the uptake."