Perhaps, as the eldest among these much younger faces, Choi Giseok felt a sting of embarrassment at the thought of taking cover from mere glass. Yet the sight of an S+ Class awakener willingly seeking shelter gave him pause. If even Cheon Areum wasn't underestimating the danger, then pride had no place here.
He finally moved to follow them.
But just as he reached the entrance—half his body still above, half already descending—the glass walls detonated. A deafening, thunder-like crack split the air. The walls shattered violently, exploding outward in a storm of razor-sharp fragments, the sound echoing like a cannon blast through the enclosed space.
The moment the walls vanished, a violent gust surged inward, as if the dungeon itself had taken a breath. The shattered glass was swept up instantly, thick shards screaming through the air like blades. One slashed past Choi Giseok, slicing his ear open in a sharp burst of pain, warm blood trailing down his skin. He didn't stop to assess the damage—before the flying debris could claim something far worse, he lunged forward and dropped fully underground.
Above them, the storm of glass raged on for several long seconds before the wind finally weakened, scattering the fragments and letting them clatter uselessly across the ruined floor.
During that brief lull, Cheon Areum remained unnervingly composed. With his energy stretched outward, he mapped the terrain and traced the presence of monsters beyond their shelter, information flooding into his mind piece by piece. As the shapes of the creatures became clearer—distorted, warped silhouettes molded by his energy—his expression twisted, disgust creased his face, lips curling as if he'd seen something profoundly wrong.
"What's wrong?"
Yoon Seoyul asked him, caressing the frown on his face.
"There are four different sides out there, each with different kinds of mobs. Everything is fine, but..."
One side of the underground space was saturated with water, the air thick with dampness and rot. Moisture clung to every surface, pooling in unseen crevices—an ideal breeding ground. As Cheon Areum's energy brushed across that area, it grazed writhing forms hiding within the wet darkness. Countless bugs. Revulsion hit him instantly. His whole body shuddered as he recoiled, yanking his energy back as if burned. He sealed that entire side off from his senses without refusing to acknowledge it any further.
"Bugs."
Meanwhile, the other S-Class hunters moved efficiently, testing the remaining areas and confirming it was safe to surface. One by one, they climbed out from their shelter. Cheon Areum and Yoon Seoyul emerged last. The first thing he noticed was Choi Giseok. Yoo Jihyeon was treating the cut on his ear, pale healing light brushing over the wound while Choi Giseok carried himself with an arrogant air—as if the injury had been nothing more than an inconvenience, but he just had to get it healed. And then, the new view from the wall-less center. Before them, the dungeon split into four distinct paths.
Each side presented a completely different scene, atmospheres clashing so sharply it felt like stepping into separate worlds entirely—no two alike, each promising danger in its own way.
The path ahead stretched like the interior of a living organism. Walls of pulsating flesh contracted, veins snaking across the red-tinged surfaces. The flesh glistened wetly, as if freshly exposed, and the air smelled faintly metallic, carrying the unmistakable hint of raw blood. Every step on that soft organic tunnel must be like walking through the hollowed-out remains of a body still very much alive. Bones, hidden beneath the shifting flesh, gave a subtle outline, as if the structure of a skeleton had been recently stripped and the soft tissue left to pulse on its own.
The left tunnel loomed like a forsaken sewer, a wide, dripping corridor slick with dark, stagnant water. A thick, clinging fog hovered above the surface, carrying the acrid scent of decay and rot, like a dark swamp forgotten by the world. The walls seemed to sweat, beads of water sliding down into puddles that whispered underfoot.
The right tunnel, in stark contrast, was a macabre cathedral of bones. Endless arches of ribs stretched overhead like jagged cathedral vaults, and the floor was littered with cracked skulls, their hollow eyes staring emptily upward.
The side Cheon Areum favored was the back—a vast, open expanse of endless sand stretching into the horizon. The sky above was a muted gray, sunless yet bathed in the soft light of daytime. The emptiness was both calming and unsettling, a barren expanse promising freedom yet hiding unknown perils.
"We will be dividing into teams of two from here on."
Cheon Areum declared early.
"If the situation gets out of your hands, come back here and wait for me. If it comes down to me having to clear each side, I will do it, but don't depend on me. I might not help if I don't feel it."
"Yoo Jihyeon, you cannot use your skill to bring even almost-dead people back alive without my approval. If someone needs to be healed immediately, signal from here to me and wait for a few minutes, and if I fail to respond to the signal, proceed with emergency healing."
Everyone listened attentively, not going against an S+ Class by any means. While being in an S+ Class dungeon, they could only agree to his every condition with a serious expression.
"Retreat as soon as you sense you cannot fight against whatever is in there, and if you encounter the boss, if it's possible, do not attack until I am there."
"And lastly, I want to go play in the sand."
Cheon Areum casually pointed to the back, toward the sand dune in the open sky, without looking. Claiming it before anyone else.