The portal back to his bedroom didn't feel like a transition, it felt like a violent reclamation.

Ha-Jin collapsed onto the floor of his room, the cool linoleum a shock against his overheated skin.

His breath came in ragged, wet hitches.

His left shoulder was a dull, throbbing ruin, and his ribs felt like they had been rearranged by a tectonic shift.

He barely had the strength to crawl toward the closet.

He fumbled in the dark for the small, cheap plastic bag he had kept for emergencies.

Inside, he found a vial of [Basic Healing Potion], bought from a back-alley pharmacy with his last bit of spare cash.

He snapped the cap off with his teeth and downed it in one go.

It tasted like copper and old swamp water, but the sharp, acidic sting began to numb the worst of his injuries.

He leaned his head back against the closet door, his chest rising and falling.

[Level: 4]

[Stats - Strength: 12, Agility: 10, Vitality: 8, Mana: 5.1, Insight: 13, Luck: 9]

[Unallocated Points: 6]

[Dungeon Points (DP): 1,500]

His status window flickered, the numbers looking sharper than before.

He was stronger. Much stronger.

But he was also bleeding out in his own bedroom, and he could hear the faint, distant hum of the apartment hallway.

He quickly peeled off the gore-stained canvas jacket and shoved it into the bottom of his laundry hamper.

He pulled on a clean, oversized hoodie to hide the bandage wrapped tight around his shoulder.

He had to look normal. He had to look like a tired, broke high school student who had spent the day at the library.

He was just finishing shoving his gear under the bed when the front door of the apartment clicked open.

"I'm home," a voice called out which was heavy, tired, and deeply familiar.

Ha-Jin took a deep breath, checked his reflection one last time to make sure no goblin blood was left on his face, and walked out.

✦ ✦ ✦

The living room was dim.

His father, Kang Dae-Jung, was standing in the small kitchenette, his tie loosened and his face looking like it had aged five years in the last ten hours.

He was a logistics coordinator, a man who dealt with the grueling reality of moving resources through a world broken by gates and monsters.

He saw Ha-Jin and gave him a weary, tight-lipped nod.

"How was the library?" he asked, his voice cracking as he reached for a glass of water.

"It was quiet," Ha-Jin said, pulling out a chair at the table.

His mother, Soo-Min, was already there, stirring a pot of rice, her expression strained.

The television mounted on the wall was playing the news at a low volume.

The anchor was a man with a perfectly rehearsed, terrified face.

"The Awakener Bureau has issued a Level 3 Warning for the Greater Seoul area," the anchor said, his voice grave.

"Tomorrow night is the full moon. The monthly Blood Moon Carnage will commence at exactly midnight."

Ha-Jin felt the air in the room turn cold.

"All Unawakened citizens are ordered to remain in reinforced underground shelters," the anchor continued.

"Awakeners rank D and below are advised to form defensive blockades for their respective districts."

The room went dead silent.

His mother’s hand, which was holding the ladle, froze.

He could see the tremor in her knuckles, a silent, rhythmic shaking that she couldn't hide.

The Blood Moon Carnage wasn't a game.

It was the system's way of culling the weak.

Once a month, the natural order of the world collapsed. Dungeons didn't just spawn, they overflowed.

The safety zones, those small patches of land protected by high-ranking Guilds, would essentially vanish.

"I’ve already booked our spots," his father said, his voice suddenly sharp, slicing through the tension.

He turned toward his wife and kids, his eyes hard and protective.

"In the district bunker. It’s reinforced steel and concrete. It’s got an air filtration system."

He looked at Ha-Jin, his expression stern but laced with a desperate, underlying softness.

"We leave tomorrow afternoon. Pack light. Only essentials."

Ha-Jin stared down at the half-empty bowl of rice in front of him.

He knew what the 'district bunkers' were.

They were glorified mass graves.

They were overcrowded, filthy, and when a high-level beast breached the outer shell, they became slaughterhouses where no one could run.

As a newly registered Awakener, the system would treat him differently tomorrow.

He wouldn't be allowed to hide.

The system would flag him. It would hunt him. It wanted to see if he was worth the power it had given him.

If he went to that bunker, he was sentencing his family to death by association.

"We can't go," Ha-Jin said, his voice flat.

His father blinked, his brow furrowing. "Excuse me?"

"The bunkers," Ha-Jin said, looking up, his gaze steady.

"They’re traps. You know they are. The Guilds use them to keep the population organized for them to harvest the Blood Points after the Carnage."

"Ha-Jin," his father warned, his voice rising.

"This isn't up for debate. I am not letting you stay here."

"I have a job now," Ha-Jin lied, his heart pounding in his chest.

"I’m a registered Gatherer. The Mercenary Branch gave me access to a defensive grid for this sector."

He had to sell it. He had to make it sound believable.

"I talked to the supervisor today. They’re providing reinforced security for my building. It’s safer than the bunker. The bunker is just a target."

His mother stepped forward, her hand reaching out to touch his arm, her eyes filled with fear.

"Ha-Jin, don't lie to us. Please. We just want you to be safe."

Ha-Jin looked at her, then at his father, who looked like he was about to burst with stress.

He felt a deep, agonizing ache in his chest.

He wasn't protecting them by telling them the truth; he was protecting them by lying.

"I’m not lying," he said, forcing his voice to remain calm, even as his shoulder throbbed with white-hot pain.

"I have the license. I have the clearance. We stay here, we live."

His father looked at him for a long time, the silence stretching, heavy and suffocating.

Finally, Dae-Jung sighed, his shoulders sagging, his authority clearly drained by the weight of the coming night.

"Fine," he muttered, turning back to his water.

"But if I hear one siren, we are running."

Ha-Jin nodded, but he knew they wouldn't be running anywhere.

✦ ✦ ✦

Midnight was still hours away.

Ha-Jin sat in the dark of his bedroom, the only light coming from the moon outside, which was beginning to swell, turning into a pale, sickly, waxing orb.

He opened his system interface.

[DP: 1,500]

He navigated through the menus, his fingers flying across the transparent blue screens.

He bypassed the weapon section. He bypassed the stat-boosters.

He searched until he found the 'Utility' tab.

There, glowing in a soft, ethereal light, was exactly what he needed.

[Item: Lesser Ward of Concealment]

[Cost: 1,200 DP]

[Description: Hides a 50-meter radius from low-level monster aggro for 12 hours. The area will appear as a normal, unremarkable piece of terrain to entities of E-Rank or below.]

1,200 DP.

It was almost all he had.

But it was the difference between a tomb and a fortress.

He clicked [Purchase].

[Purchase Confirmed.]

[Current DP: 300]

A small, heavy orb of pulsating silver energy materialized in his hand.

It felt warm, vibrating with a gentle, protective frequency.

Ha-Jin stood up, his legs feeling heavy, and walked toward the window.

He looked out at the street.

The neighborhood was already quiet. The streets were empty.

Every window was shuttered. Every car was tucked away.

The entire city felt like it was holding its breath.

He climbed the ladder to the roof access, the cold night air biting at his skin.

He walked to the center of the roof, the flat, tar-covered surface cold beneath his boots.

He placed the orb on the ground.

"Activate."

The orb shattered.

A ripple of silver light expanded outward, passing through the walls of the apartment building, casting a dome over the entire structure.

He felt the ward lock into place, an invisible veil settling over the building, masking its presence from the hungry eyes of the night.

It wasn't impenetrable. A high-rank monster could shatter it with a single strike.

But for the Shadow Hounds and the stray mutants of the Blood Moon?

To them, this building would simply cease to exist.

Ha-Jin looked back toward his apartment, knowing his parents and sister were safe inside.

He leaned against the roof parapet, watching the moon.

It was changing.

The silver light was bleeding out, replaced by a deep, dark, visceral red.

The Blood Moon was rising.

"Let those guild bastards fight for the spotlight," Ha-Jin whispered, his eyes hardening as he gripped the hilt of his machete.

"I'm protecting my own."

He didn't know how long the ward would last.

He didn't know what kind of horrors the system was going to throw at them tonight.

But he was Level 4. He had a machete. And he had a dungeon that was currently feeding him mana.

If anything came for his family, it would have to go through him first.

He stood on the roof as the sky began to turn a bruised, blood-drenched purple.

The world was ending, and for the first time in his life, Kang Ha-Jin was ready for it.

He could hear it now; the first distant, piercing wail of a siren.

The Carnage had begun.

He checked his inventory, confirming the machete was ready.

He turned toward the edge of the roof, his gaze fixed on the darkening city, waiting for the first wave of shadow to break across the horizon.

He wasn't going to hide inside.

He was going to be the wall.

He tightened his grip on his blade.

The wind picked up, carrying the metallic scent of ozone and something far, far worse.

The hunt was on.