The Guro-gu Sub-Station Dungeon breathed a metallic, ozone-heavy scent into the cold night air. The entrance was a shimmering blue rift tucked behind a decommissioned electrical grid.
Joo-won arrived thirty minutes late. He didn't care.
"There he is! The 'Plague Doctor' finally showed up!"
A man in bulky, cheap steel plate armor—the leader of Team 4—spat a glob of tobacco onto the gravel. His name was Park Sang-ho, a C-Rank Tank with a bloated ego and a debt to match. The other three members—two D-Rank Fighters and a frantic-looking E-Rank Healer—looked at Joo-won with blatant contempt.
"Listen, kid," Sang-ho growled, grabbing Joo-won by the shoulder. "This is a 5-floor dungeon. The government says we have to take a support. But you look like you'd trip over your own shadow. Stay in the back, cast whatever 'itchy' curse you have, and stay out of the way of the real men. Got it?"
Joo-won pulled his shoulder away, eyes cold behind his cheap black face mask. "Just get moving. Time is money."
"Tch. Arrogant brat."
Floor 1: The Rule of the Maw
As they stepped through the rift, the environment shifted. They weren't in a sub-station anymore; they were in a labyrinth of pulsing, organic pipes and rusted iron walkways.
Suddenly, a massive stone tablet rose from the floor near the entrance. This was the Dungeon Mandate—the unique laws that governed every dungeon in this world.
[Dungeon Rule: The Law of Equivalent Vitality]
Effect: Healing magic is reduced by 90%.
Condition: Every time a monster dies, the person who dealt the killing blow recovers 5% HP.
The E-Rank Healer turned pale. "90% reduction? I'm useless here!"
Sang-ho grinned, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "No, it just means we have to be aggressive. But we need a way to keep the monsters grouped up so I can cleave them."
He looked at Joo-won. "Kid. You're the sacrifice. Go lure that pack of Iron-Hide Rats over there. Use your curse to draw their aggro. Since you're 'Master of Disease,' they'll love the smell of you."
"You want me to act as bait without a shield?" Joo-won asked flatly.
"It's your job. If you don't, I'll report you for 'Battlefield Negligence,' and the government will revoke your license."
Joo-won stared at Sang-ho. He wasn't afraid. He was calculating. If he stayed with the party, they would take 80% of the loot. If they... "disappeared," he would have everything.
"Fine," Joo-won said. "I'll lure them."
The Absolute Experiment
Joo-won walked toward the swarm of dog-sized rats. Their fur was literal shards of metal. One bite would tear a normal D-Rank to pieces.
"Hey! Over here, you vermin," Joo-won whispered.
As the rats hissed and lunged, Joo-won didn't run. He activated his skill.
[Skill: Festering Touch activated.] [Target: Alpha Iron-Hide Rat] [Absolute Infliction: Applied.]
Normally, an Iron-Hide Rat has "Physical Armor" and "Poison Resistance (Low)." To the System, those stats now meant zero.
The Alpha Rat froze mid-leap. Its metallic fur began to rust and flake off in clumps of orange dust. Its skin bubbled. Within three seconds, the "D-Rank" monster was a convulsing mess of necrotic flesh.
[Absolute Infliction ignores resistance.] [The disease is spreading via contact.]
The other rats, touching their leader, immediately began to rot. It was like a wildfire of biological decay.
"What the hell is he doing?" Sang-ho shouted from the back. "He's supposed to bring them back, not... what is that? Is he using a chemical weapon?"
Joo-won looked back at the party. He saw the greed in Sang-ho's eyes. The Tank realized that Joo-won's power was far beyond a normal D-Rank. And in the dark of a dungeon, power that can't be explained is usually stolen or silenced.
"Kid! That's a high-level skill!" Sang-ho ran forward, his sword drawn—not at the rats, but toward Joo-won. "Where did you get that? That's not a D-Rank skill! Give me your skill book or I'll—"
Joo-won didn't blink. He felt the cold logic of his "Void of Empathy" trait settle in. These people were no longer teammates. They were obstacles to his profit margin.
"You're loud," Joo-won said.
He flicked his wrist, sending a tiny, invisible droplet of mana toward Sang-ho's exposed neck.
[Skill: Respiratory Paralysis (Level 1)] [Absolute Infliction: Applied.]
Sang-ho stopped dead. His sword clattered to the floor. His hands flew to his throat, his face turning a horrific shade of purple. Because it was an Absolute effect, his C-Rank Vitality didn't save him. His lungs simply stopped acknowledging the command to breathe.
"Wait... Sang-ho?!" the other fighters screamed.
Joo-won turned toward them, his eyes reflecting the sickly green glow of the rotting rats. "The dungeon rule says healing is reduced by 90%. It doesn't say anything about how fast a plague can kill."
He began to walk toward the rest of the party.
"Since I'm the 'Support,' I'll support your early retirement. All your gear... it should fetch a nice price on the black market."