The air near the Rift shimmered like a mirage, distorting the space around it with invisible tension. Jaemin could feel the static biting at his skin, like a warning. Tier 3. That alone should've sent every rookie here running for their life.
Not one of them flinched.
They were desperate.
The abandoned lot was now a gathering zone. Cracked cement, rusted fencing, tufts of grass poking through fissures in the ground. It looked like the world had given up on this place, and now it was welcoming more to be discarded.
Taeha stopped beside Jaemin, hands in his pockets.
"That's the rift?"
He asked, voice low, brows furrowed.
Jaemin nodded.
"Tier 3. Strong enough to kill everyone here if they were dumb enough to go in."
Taeha didn't laugh.
"Lucky for them, they don't have to."
They didn't. The rule was clear: for establishing a new Covenant, you needed five or more recruits to register under your name for a raid, just enough to prove you could convince people to follow you. The Association cared more about recruiting skills than raw strength when it came to establishing legitimacy.
Still... Jaemin scanned the recruits and felt a knot tighten in his gut.
There were eight people in total. Six had already been waiting when they arrived. But their faces weren't what he expected. One was an elderly man with a frail posture. Two others looked just barely older than high schoolers. And one... was just a kid. Couldn't be older than sixteen. Still, the Rift registered them—they'd passed the awakening threshold. That was enough.
Jaemin narrowed his eyes, arms folded.
"Why are there old people and kids here?"
Taeha didn't even glance at him.
"Old folks awaken, too, sometimes. Late bloomers. As for the kid... It's legal."
Jaemin's brows lifted.
"Barely legal."
Taeha clarified.
"Kids can join raids after awakening, but if anything happens to them, the damage compensation is through the roof. Most avoid it... unless they're starving."
Jaemin clicked his tongue.
It wasn't strength that brought these people here. It was hunger. Debt. Desperation.
"Guess everyone's got their reasons."
He muttered.
A voice spoke up. Croaky. Hesitant.
"Uh... Mister..."
Jaemin turned to see the old man shuffle forward. His skin was worn, his eyes tired, but there was a weird steadiness in his voice. Like he'd already lived through worse.
"Not to be rude, but are you sure we'll get the promised compensation? Six million per registration? That's... a lot."
Jaemin nodded slowly.
"You will. Full amount. No deductions."
The man lowered his gaze.
"Thank you. I'm only asking because... I need the money for my daughter."
Jaemin blinked.
"She has spinal discoordination," the old man said, voice going quiet. "Been... twelve years since I last heard her voice. Since I've seen her eyes open. Treatment costs are constant. Never ends. But if I can survive this—just sign up—I can afford another month."
That hit deeper than Jaemin expected.
The way the man said it—so plainly, no drama, no begging. Just facts. Just a father trying to buy one more month for a comatose daughter.
Jaemin felt the air leave his lungs.
He turned away for a second to collect himself. He didn't want the man to see his expression shift.
"I understand," Jaemin said, voice steady now.
"Don't worry. You'll get your share."
The man bowed gently.
"Then I'm grateful. Truly."
As he stepped back into line, Jaemin's eyes lingered on him.
Spinal discoordination. Same condition. Same pain. Different family.
But Jaemin wasn't just here to survive anymore.
He was going to build something.
And make sure no one else has to gamble their life just to buy another treatment.
Taeha stepped forward, clapping his hands loudly. The sound echoed through the empty lot like a crack.
"Good morning, everyone!"
He called out, voice way too cheerful for how sleep-deprived everyone looked.
"Welcome to the Rift raid!"
A few of them blinked blearily at him. One girl in the back didn't even lift her head fully. The old man just scratched his neck.
Taeha grinned anyway, arms spread wide like he was hosting a game show.
"Now, let's make one thing super clear—you're not going into the Rift. You're just registering for it."
Murmurs bubbled instantly.
"Wait, for real?"
"We're getting paid just to sign up?"
"How do we know this ain't a scam?"
"Yeah—what if you guys die in there? What about us?"
Jaemin didn't say anything. He watched, eyes tracking each speaker carefully. Measuring the energy. Measuring the risk.
Taeha just smiled wider.
"Wow. Love the enthusiasm. Truly."
He held up both hands.
"So let me walk you through this one more time: yes, you are getting paid for every raid registration you sign under us. Six million won. Ten raids. That's sixty million total."
That made some of them go quiet.
Sixty million.
The number landed heavier than the Rift's pressure.
Taeha continued, this time his tone sharpening just a touch.
"But listen closely now—because this next part matters."
He raised a finger.
"You probably skimmed the contract when you signed up. Y'know, the part that said don't talk about this raid to anyone. Not your mom. Not your boss. Not your best friend."
He paused for effect.
"Violation of that contract?"
Taeha raised an eyebrow.
"That'll be five times your pay. Thirty million per breach. If you even mention this Rift to someone and it gets back to us, you'll lose everything."
Silence.
Even the tired girl looked up now.
Jaemin stepped in beside him, finally. His presence, quiet but sharp, seemed to anchor the space.
Taeha tilted his head.
"Any questions?"
A kid in the back raised a hand. Couldn't have been more than eighteen. "Uh... what are you guys doing in the Rift, though?"
Taeha didn't miss a beat.
"Drugs."
A few people stiffened.
Then he smirked.
"Kidding. Relax. We're not that stupid."
He gave the group a once-over.
"Anyone wanna back off?"
No one moved.
Not even the old man.
The silence stretched, filled only by the distant hum of the Rift and a bird somewhere in the distance.
Jaemin exhaled softly.
"Too sweet to walk away from."
"Alright then."
Taeha said, suddenly clapping again.
"Welcome to the team."
"Let's get a move on, Taeha."
Jaemin said, already walking toward the Rift gate.
"YESS HYUNG-NIM!!"
Taeha shouted like they were in some shounen anime, pumping his fist before suiting up.
The armour he slid into was loud—too polished, too expensive-looking, like something a spoiled prince would wear in a cosplay competition. Gleaming silver plates clicked and clacked as he moved like a walking saucepan.
"Alright! I'm ready."
Taeha announced proudly, striking a heroic pose.
Jaemin turned to look at him, blinking once.
"...What the hell are you doing?"
"Going into the Rift?"
Taeha said, trying to sound casual—but there was that slight tremble in his voice, like he was already mentally preparing for Jaemin to scold him.
Jaemin narrowed his eyes.
"I thought I made it clear—I'm going in alone."
"But, hyung-nim—"
"No."
Jaemin cut him off instantly, voice like a blade.
"Why not?"
Taeha shot back, his tone rising into a whine.
Jaemin didn't hesitate.
"You have an unstable Core, Taeha. You know that. It's not safe. You overdo it even a little, and you could spiral or fracture."
Taeha froze. That hit a little too real. His jaw clenched—and behind that helmet, he was definitely crying a bit on the inside.
"Hyung-nim…" he mumbled.
"Stay out...."
Jaemin said firmly, not even looking back.
"NO!"
Taeha snapped suddenly, fists clenched.
"I want to learn! I'm not gonna fight anything—I'll just mine monster parts and maybe find a few Rift crystals! I'll be careful, please…"
His voice cracked on that last word. Jaemin turned, silent.
"…Taeha."
Jaemin said calmly.
"Look up."
"Huh?"
"Just look up."
Confused, Taeha tilted his head—and his eyes caught a plane flying overhead, a smooth white streak across the morning sky.
He smiled a little. Peaceful.Inspiring.Cool.
And then—
"AAHH—!"
The armour's weight shifted with his neck's movement, throwing him completely off-balance.
CRASH!
He hit the ground like a sack of bricks. Everything shattered except the helmet, which somehow stayed perfectly in place.
Jaemin walked over, crouched, and flicked the helmet once with his finger.
Clink.
"You can't even keep your balance in that good-for-nothing heavy-ass armour."
Jaemin muttered, not hiding the annoyance in his voice.
Taeha groaned, rolling over and sitting up with only the helmet still on.
"…It's okay."
He said with a grin, brushing dirt off.
"I only need a helmet and a sword anyway."
Jaemin just sighed, already turning toward the Rift. The blue energy shimmered and pulsed like it was alive.
"I swear if you die in there, I'm not carrying your corpse out."
Jaemin muttered.
"Then I'll crawl out myself, hyung-nim!"
Taeha beamed, grabbing his sword and jogging after him.
They crossed the Rift threshold together.
One dead serious.
The other... hopelessly eager.
****
Time crawled.
The sun had moved an inch across the sky, but for those outside the Rift, it felt like days.
Most of them were sitting or pacing now. The anxious air was thick, like fog.
"…Are they alive?"
"I don't know, genius. Am I inside the goddamn Rift?"
"Funny."
"I'm just saying, shouldn't we—like—peep in? Just a little?"
"Shut the hell up and wait."
The group murmured, restless. Some crossed their arms, others tapped their feet or bit their nails. A few already looked like they were regretting everything.
"This is a suicide mission at this point… going into a Tier 3 alone? Are you kidding me?"
"Yeah," another muttered, shaking his head.
"We got scammed. Wasted time, fake contracts, no money…"
The words weren't loud, but they cut deep. Hope drained from the group like blood from a wound.
Then—HUMMMMMMMMM.
A low, bone-deep hum rumbled from the Rift. It vibrated the air, the ground… even the gut.
The Rift pulsed.
A wave of pressure rolled out, light but unmistakable, kicking up dirt and sending a few loose papers fluttering off. It was like the Rift exhaled.
And then—
Taeha stumbled out. He was panting, absolutely covered in gunk and Rift residue, arms filled with monster limbs, crystals, and a half-broken sword.
"Huff—huff—holy shiiit—"
Everyone tensed.
"…Wait. He made it back? Alone?"
But right behind him—
Jaemin stepped through.
Calm. Unbothered. Not a scratch on him. His coat flared slightly in the leftover Rift breeze, eyes unreadable.
Silence fell.
No one said anything. The tension snapped like a broken string.
And then—
"Ah—ha! So y'all came back for our help, huh?"
One of the older men laughed, standing with fake pride.
"Knew it! Rift was too much, wasn't it?"
Jaemin blinked.
"What are you talking about?"
Behind him, the Rift collapsed.
With a sharp, ringing CRACK, the portal twisted inward like it was being sucked into itself, bursting in a bright flicker and vanishing completely.
All that remained was a shimmering trail of Rift Dust—an absolute goldmine of it.
Taeha dropped to his knees and immediately started scooping it into his bag, grinning like a maniac.
"…EHHHHHHHH?!?!?"
"THEY CLEARED A TIER 3 RIFT IN A DUO?!?"
"THE HELL?!?!!?!?"
Faces dropped. Mouths hung open. Eyes widened like dinner plates. The people who were ready to walk away… just stood there like they'd seen a ghost crawl out of a grave with a winning lottery ticket.
Even the old guy with the spinal discoordination daughter sat down hard.
"…W-what the fuck are these two…"
Someone whispered.
Taeha looked up from his pile of loot, beaming through his cracked helmet.
"Hey, did we take long? I tripped like five times inside."
Jaemin just dusted his shoulder, turned to the crowd, and said calmly—
"Nine more to go."
The next Rift wasn't far—just over a dried ridge, glowing faintly in the afternoon haze. The air was still heavy from the last one, but there was no delay. Jaemin and Taeha were already walking ahead. The others followed quietly, still digesting what they'd just witnessed.
Once again, only two entered. Once again, the rest waited.
Inside the Rift
It was wilder this time. Thicker air, lower light. Fangs flashed in the dark—Vulpus, lean and twitchy, darted in from the sides. Rifthounds, larger and drooling, lunged low and fast.
But Jaemin?
He stood still. Calm.
SHUNK.
One swipe. A clean vertical slice—two Vulpus split in half before hitting the ground.
SLASH.
Another came for his shoulder. Gone before it landed. He held only one blade: a single Binary Star, the other still away.
He didn't need both.
He didn't even move—he just cut. Like everything was already dead.
"Hyung-nim..."
Taeha called from behind, casually scrolling through his phone while hugging a wall.
"Should I book us a meal after this?"
Jaemin didn't turn.
"Sure."
SLLLING.
SLASH!
Another blur of fur and teeth. Gone. Blood vaporised before it even sprayed.
Further ahead, the Overseer, tall and thin, its face veiled in obsidian cloth, stood waiting with a jagged sickle in hand.
Didn't matter.
Jaemin walked forward, clean steps echoing across the stone. One blink. The Overseer was already collapsing into two halves.
****
Outside the Rift
They waited.
But this time, it was different chatter. No complaints.
Just eyes on the Rift. Silent tension.
One guy couldn't take it. He scoffed and started walking off.
"This is bullshit. There's no way they survive this one, too."
But just as he turned—
"Leaving so soon?"
The voice struck him mid-step.
He whipped around. Jaemin stood there, walking calmly out of the Rift.
Behind him, Taeha emerged, half-bent over with an overloaded duffle bag spilling monster parts, rift crystals, and dust. He gave a tired smile and waved.
And behind them, the Rift collapsed, folding into itself, with one final hum that shimmered across the dirt.
Jaemin looked at the group and spoke simply:
"That's all for today."
He bowed slightly.
"Thank you, everyone. We'll meet again tomorrow for the rest of the Rifts."
He walked off toward the black van without another word.
Taeha followed, still waving.
"See ya guys! Eat something, okay?"
They got in. The van started. Drove off.
The group just stood there.
No one said anything for a while excitement. No cheering. Just a quiet, settled awe.
Because now it was real. They were getting paid millions… for standing one had to die. No one had to fight. No scams.
They just had to show up.
One of them exhaled slowly.
"...Damn."
Another nodded.
"...This guy's the real deal."
Later that evening.
A small restaurant tucked into a corner street—quiet, warm lights, the faint clatter of dishes, and the smell of hot broth hanging in the air.
Jaemin and Taeha sat by the window, still a little dusty, Taeha's hair sticking up like he got electrocuted, and Jaemin somehow looking like he never even broke a sweat.
Taeha was slurping his noodles like he hadn't eaten in days.
"Hyung-nim."
He said mid-chew.
"Where did you learn how to fight like that?"
Jaemin stirred his soup, calm as ever.
"I was a blackbelt when I was young."
Taeha's eyes widened, glowing like he just met Goku.
"WOAH—THAT'S SO LIT AND IMPRESSIVE, HYUNG-NIM!!"
Jaemin paused. Blinked once. He couldn't help the faint smirk tugging at his lips.
More like got beaten up by black belts.
But Taeha didn't need to know that.
"He's so easily convinced."
Jaemin thought, sipping his soup quietly as Taeha went on raving.
Outside, the city lights flickered. Inside, it was just them, tired and full, sharing quiet laughter between bites.