Chapter 2: A New Life

It was a kind of inertia.

Students were expected to study, and hunters were expected to hunt monsters—it was society’s common perception. So, Sang-woong had merely followed that flow, silently fulfilling his role.

Finally, a faint emotion, like a dim spark, flickered in his empty chest.

“Maybe… there was also a tiny bit of competitive spirit.”

Sang-woong muttered to himself with a bitter smile.

At that moment, a sudden, sharp question flashed through his mind.

“Can a dream really be this vivid? Every sensation in my body feels so familiar. Could it be…”

With a trembling voice, as if reciting a long-forgotten incantation, Sang-woong desperately called up his status window.

Name: Park Sang-woong
Rank: 8
Strength: 156
Agility: 161
Stamina: 153
Mana: 160
Corruption: 67%
Skill: Body Enhancement (45)

“This… this can’t be! A Rank 8 Hunter? Then, could it be… could I have actually… regressed?”

It wasn’t just a nightmare.

The trembling in his fingertips, the fierce pounding of his heart, the familiar energy enveloping his body—everything was too vivid, too real.

He couldn’t comprehend how such a miraculous event could have occurred, but one thing was certain: he had traveled back in time to the past.

When he cautiously checked the date, Sang-woong nearly stopped breathing.

The calendar confirmed he had gone back 25 years.

For a moment, he stood frozen, as if all his thoughts had shut down like a malfunctioning robot.

“No, this isn’t the time to be standing around like this!”

Snapping himself out of it, Sang-woong grabbed his phone with trembling hands.

Staring blankly at the chaotic schedule, he began piecing together the faint fragments of his past memories.

“This was the time before I officially joined the guild, when I was frantically running through low-rank dungeons to make money.”

The densely packed schedule was filled with dungeon names and a grueling timetable.

Fortunately, there were no plans for today, but the relentless schedule starting tomorrow made his chest tighten once again.

Most hunters needed sufficient rest for mental and physical recovery, as well as time to enjoy their personal lives, so it was extremely rare for someone to willingly take on such a reckless schedule.

As Sang-woong stared blankly at the grueling timetable, he couldn’t fathom why he had lived such a suffocating, exhausting life.

It had seemed so natural until just yesterday.

Without hesitation, Sang-woong picked up his phone and began canceling every scheduled dungeon appointment one by one.

Right now, the most urgent and important thing was to get accustomed to his younger self.

And honestly, with the vivid memories of that horrific past still fresh, he desperately didn’t want to step back into those wretched dungeons.

“Father… Mother… they must be younger too.”

The first thing that came to his mind was the faces of his beloved family.

In his previous life, he had been so consumed by his hunter career that his most precious family was always pushed to the background.

The tragic end he faced too late left a lingering guilt toward his parents, deeply embedded in his heart.

Sang-woong vowed that in this miraculous second life, he would never repeat the regretful life of before.

This time, he resolved to prioritize his own happiness, determined to live an ordinary, cherished daily life with his beloved family.

Adapting to his younger body wasn’t as difficult as he expected.

It was a familiar sensation he had already experienced once before.

Moreover, having moved out from his parents’ home a year ago to live independently meant he didn’t have to worry too much about others’ scrutiny, which greatly helped his quick adjustment.

Time passed.

Only about ten days had passed since the miraculous regression, but the horrific memories of his past life already felt like a faint dream, as he seamlessly blended into his new daily routine.

The relaxed phone conversation he had with his parents and younger sibling the previous evening felt as natural and enjoyable as catching up with old friends.

Sang-woong’s first and most important decision was to cleanly abandon his hunter life without any lingering attachment.

He had no desire to relive that horrific past.

Now, he would pursue an ordinary, simple happiness.

Having quit being a hunter, he needed to find a new job.

The first thing that came to mind was, inevitably, the hunter guild, the place he was most familiar with.

Guilds weren’t just for hunters who fought monsters.

There were also many ordinary staff members handling administrative tasks or supporting roles.

But the moment he thought of them, his anticipation of becoming a respectable office worker quickly cooled.

Low pay, endless overtime, mountains of work, and, most critically, the unfair treatment from all sorts of powerful hunters—he knew these hardships all too well.

“No way. If I have to get a job, I absolutely won’t go anywhere related to hunters.”

But when he resolved to become a proper office worker, an inexplicable lack of confidence held him back.

Having lived for decades solely hunting monsters, he was gripped by strong doubts about whether he could manage an ordinary office worker’s life.

“Then… what am I supposed to do with my life?”

At that moment, what flashed through his empty mind was the rural village where his parents, with warm smiles, would be waiting for him.

A serene, peaceful rural village.

But recently, with the establishment of Korea’s largest dungeon disease specialty hospital, it had begun to buzz with vitality.

Sang-woong owned a sizable plot of forest land just a kilometer from that dungeon disease hospital.

In his past life, consumed by his hectic hunter career, he had no place to spend his accumulated wealth. When his father mentioned a good piece of land at a low price, he had bought it without much thought.

That seemingly insignificant land suddenly gained excellent accessibility when a new road to the dungeon disease hospital was opened, and its value soared beyond imagination.

“That’s right! I still have that valuable land!”

Sang-woong finally discovered a new goal that made his heart race again.

Without hesitation, he packed up his stifling city life and returned to the warm embrace of his parents, who welcomed him as if they had been waiting all along.

His parents, who had always worried about his dangerous hunter life, offered unwavering support and encouragement for his new plan.

Sang-woong boldly invested in his vast land, constructing a modest five-story building.

The process of building it was unexpectedly enjoyable.

He went to the construction site every day, working tirelessly from morning to late at night, more diligently than anyone else.

Unlike the violent act of killing horrific monsters, pouring effort into creating something valuable with his own hands brought him an astonishing sense of joy and satisfaction.

And in the completed building’s first floor, he cautiously opened a small restaurant, a long-held dream.

In his previous life, amidst the grueling and dangerous hunter career, the only joy and small comfort had been delicious food.

He enjoyed seeking out new eateries and loved cooking himself whenever he had the time.

Sang-woong put particular effort into designing the restaurant’s kitchen.

Following recent dining trends, he created an open kitchen where customers could watch the cooking process.

He equipped it with top-of-the-line ovens, high-performance fryers, powerful Chinese-style burners, and spotless dishwashers—everything needed to make any kind of dish he wanted.

From a business perspective, it might have been considered an inefficient investment, but for Sang-woong, this small restaurant wasn’t just a means to make money. It was a special space where he could fully indulge in his cherished hobby.

He prioritized his genuine enjoyment and satisfaction over business efficiency, resulting in nearly half the restaurant’s space being dedicated to a grand, spacious kitchen.

Another area Sang-woong paid special attention to was a wide bar table where he could face customers and have relaxed conversations.

Valuing communication with customers above all, he installed an ample bar table in addition to regular seating.

The remaining space was filled with a few tables and comfortable chairs to create a cozy atmosphere, with large windows allowing customers to enjoy delicious meals while taking in the beautiful natural scenery outside.

The menu he planned to offer wasn’t extravagant or special but consisted of warm, heartfelt soul food that any Korean would love.

Savory doenjang jjigae, spicy and refreshing kimchi jjigae, fiery stir-fried pork, and crispy, juicy katsu.

The drinking menu would be decided spontaneously based on the day’s mood.

Once he became more accustomed to kitchen work, he planned to add a wider variety of dishes to satisfy diverse tastes.

He wasn’t too worried about the food’s taste. He had a natural knack for cooking, and with a little effort, delicious recipes were readily available online.

As always, Sang-woong rose at dawn, carefully preparing fresh ingredients to start the busy morning.

Tap tap tap tap

The cheerful, rhythmic sound of chopping filled the spacious kitchen.

His astonishing knife skills, honed through life-or-death battles with horrific monsters, rivaled those of a seasoned veteran chef.

Under his deft hands, fresh vegetables and meats were quickly sliced into uniform, bite-sized pieces.

As lunchtime approached, customers began trickling into his restaurant.

Most were staff from the nearby large dungeon disease hospital, and within a few days, many had already become familiar faces.

“Welcome!”

Sang-woong greeted his customers with a bright, warm smile.

“Hello, boss!”

A regular customer returned the greeting warmly and took a familiar seat at the bar.

“Boss, I’m craving doenjang jjigae today. One doenjang jjigae and one spicy stir-fried pork, please.”

“Sure, I’ll prepare it with care.”

Sang-woong began cooking with skillful, swift movements.

Thanks to the open kitchen, customers could watch his dazzling cooking process with interest.

“Wow, the boss’s movements are pure art. Look at those arm muscles! Just watching him cook makes it worth coming here.”

“Seriously. It’s a bit far from the hospital, but the parking is spacious, and the surrounding scenery is amazing. The food is clean and tasty too. We should have our department’s next gathering here.”

“Yeah, let’s make it official—our next department dinner is here.”

The customers enjoyed their lunchtime, watching Sang-woong’s skillful and lively cooking process while anticipating delicious food.

As time passed, his food grew even more flavorful, and thanks to his warm personality and kindness, regular customers kept coming back. His small restaurant was finally finding stable footing.

Recently, aside from running the restaurant, Sang-woong had been deeply invested in gradually clearing the vast forest land he had bought thoughtlessly in the past.

The land, long neglected and overgrown with dense trees and weeds, now seemed like such a waste.

He promptly obtained the necessary permits from the local authorities and cautiously began the reclamation work.

Using heavy machinery would have made the task quicker and easier, but he decided not to rush and to cultivate the land with his own hands.

He silently cleared unnecessary trees and leveled the rough, uneven ground.

On the carefully reclaimed land, he planted various fruit tree saplings and created a small garden for fresh vegetable seedlings.

He planned to grow fresh vegetables for the restaurant.

Each day felt endlessly peaceful and fulfilling.

The fierce life of desperately fighting horrific monsters now felt like a distant, dreamlike tale from long ago.

But the peaceful daily life he so desperately wanted was shattered by the sudden, ominous appearance of an unexpected presence.

That day, as always, Sang-woong carefully opened the storage room door next to the kitchen to stock up on fresh ingredients for the next day. What he saw made him doubt his own eyes.

In a corner of the storage room, a ghastly dungeon gate, its eerie blue cracks writhing like a living creature, gaped open before him.

“Ha, this…”

Sang-woong’s gaze, fixed on the dungeon gate’s chilling blue cracks, instantly turned cold.

In his previous life, he had entered such wretched dungeon gates daily, but now, just the sight of one sent shivers down his spine and sparked intense irritation.

Dungeon gates could appear anywhere, but the fact that one had formed in his precious building—specifically, in his small restaurant’s storage room—was utterly unacceptable.

“Why, of all places, my restaurant’s storage?”

The only silver lining was that, judging by the unstable mana flow, it didn’t seem to be a high-rank dungeon gate.

While an official measurement by the Hunter Association was needed for accuracy, his decades of experience as a hunter suggested it was likely a low-rank dungeon.

But a low rank didn’t mean it was safe.

“What… what should I do?”

When a dungeon gate is discovered, the protocol is to immediately report it to the Hunter Association.

The association evaluates the dungeon’s economic value and danger level to decide whether to maintain or close it.

If the dungeon’s monster hunting or rare byproducts are deemed economically valuable and the dungeon’s scale is manageable, the association designates the building and surrounding area as a “Dungeon Management Zone,” compensating the property owner with a certain amount.

But Sang-woong didn’t want money.

He had no intention of trading the humble, peaceful life he had worked so hard to build for anything.

He couldn’t lose the precious happiness he had only just reclaimed for a few coins.

That left him with only one choice.

Sang-woong made a swift decision without a moment’s hesitation.

Before the Hunter Association could discover it, he would quietly and completely close this troublesome dungeon himself.

He retrieved his hunter gear, stashed away in a corner of the storage room.

It had been so long since he last entered a dungeon that he couldn’t even recall when it was. The dust-covered gear felt strangely unfamiliar and awkward.

Brushing off the thick dust, Sang-woong headed to the restaurant’s closed door.

He hung a sign reading “Closed 2/056” on the door to inform customers of the sudden closure and carefully donned his gear.

He felt sorry for the inconvenience this would cause his customers, but the dungeon issue had to be resolved as quickly and quietly as possible.

To prepare for any dangerous situations, he meticulously packed a generous amount of water and emergency rations.

Swish

With the old, familiar, unpleasant sensation of being sucked into water, Sang-woong stepped into the blue crack without hesitation.

Before him unfolded an unbelievably vast and beautiful natural landscape.

The lush forest stretching endlessly under a clear blue sky seemed to gently soothe his hardened heart just by looking at it.

“Well… at least the dungeon environment is much better than I expected.”

But the dungeon’s unexpectedly vast and massive scale sparked a momentary sense of unease in Sang-woong.

With such a large area, he couldn’t even guess how long it would take to find the dungeon’s core.