Hoarding In Hell [EN]: Chapter 1

Difficulty: Hell

Someone had drawn a line in the sand.

Declaring, ‘You can only go this far, and no further.’

Even with the advent of dungeons, the awakening of ability users, and the rise of transcendent beings, this was the limit presented to me.

That my potential stopped here. That I couldn’t advance any further.

[0-Star Incompetent Commoner.]

That I had no hope of ever becoming an ability user.

That was the final judgment.

Why was I barred from progressing when so many others were ahead? Why was I stuck in this mire? Complaining was futile.

While others basked in the warmth and wealth of the world in the bright places, I was left to scavenge scraps from under their feet. Some crossed that line with money, others were elevated by connections.

I pleaded with wounded hands for a fair chance to compete, for any opportunity, but it was all in vain. This reality was rigidly defined, the boundary of my potential was set.

No matter how hard I struggled, nothing changed.

At twenty-nine, I was forced to confront reality. I had no choice but to accept it.

Until I fell into hell.

***

Hwaseong Mana Specialization Industrial Zone.

It was the largest industrial complex in Korea dedicated to mana-related activities.

It was no exaggeration to say that all the crystal moss harvested in Korea was processed here.

Since the emergence of dungeons, the mana-related industry, fueled by crystal moss, had become a leading force in the future. Naturally, everyone working there took pride in their work.

Kang Hyun-woo also worked in this industrial zone.

However, his workplace wasn’t above ground, but deep underground.

Inside the sewers where waste from the mana specialization industrial zone flowed.

Splash.

Hyun-woo’s hand plunged into the murky sewage. Something snagged on the end of his rubber-gloved fingers.

He crushed the black mass, releasing a subtle purplish powder. Hyun-woo sifted it through a filter.

Dozens of others were nearby, similarly rummaging through the sewage like Hyun-woo.

They were scavengers, collecting crystal moss residue from the industrial zone’s waste.

Industrial waste, especially crystal moss residue, posed a significant threat to ordinary people without abilities.

Contact with crystal moss residue could cause mana poisoning, leading to body paralysis. It was akin to mining gold in a toxic environment.

However, the immense value of crystal moss kept the scavengers coming. The company, in turn, tolerated the scavengers, as they could acquire crystal moss at a low cost without expending their own resources.

The darkest shadow cast by the current golden age.

A modern-day dystopia.

“Hyun-woo, let’s take a break.”

In the monochrome, drab drain, a refreshing voice that he couldn’t get used to broke the silence.

A woman with a pale complexion tugged at Hyun-woo’s sleeve. He hadn’t finished his work, but further effort seemed futile.

“Okay.”

He straightened his back, a creaking sound accompanying the movement. It was the first time in two hours. Yoo-min sat down beside the drain, her face pale.

Her sieve also contained very little crystal moss residue. While women weren’t entirely absent among the scavengers, Yoo-min, two years younger than Hyun-woo, seemed particularly unsuited for this work.

“Are you holding up okay?”

“I thought I’d be fine after a week… but it’s still tough.”

Yoo-min explained that she was a research assistant at a university. She needed crystal moss and its residue for her research, but lacking funding, she had come here directly.

“Still, I’m glad you’re here, Hyun-woo.”

Even words of kindness sounded muted through her gas filter, spoken with a weary expression.

Of course, it wasn’t just simple kindness. Hyun-woo had helped Yoo-min when she was disoriented near the drain, and she compensated him for his assistance.

Yoo-min glanced at the crystal moss residue in her sieve, her expression dejected.

“But it’s not much.”

“I heard it’s been like this lately.”

The 1- and 2-star dungeons, once safe to mine, had been depleted, while higher-level dungeons were too dangerous.

Crystal moss needed time to mature, but it was being harvested prematurely, leading to a decline in both quality and quantity.

As the supply dwindled, prices soared, attracting more scavengers.

“There’s even talk that top-tier clans are manipulating the price of crystal moss to drive it up.”

Yoo-min’s face contorted in frustration.

“There are too many unscrupulous hunters. Ultimately, it’s all about upgrading their equipment, but they lack foresight. Short-sighted bastards.”

It seemed that those with academic backgrounds had their own grievances. The problem was more complex than simply the decreasing amount of crystal moss, at least for scavengers like them.

“They say that 30 years ago, everyone worked together in a spirit of cooperation.”

Well, back then… it was natural, as dungeons had only just appeared.

To be precise, 29 years ago, ‘dungeons’ suddenly manifested worldwide, and mana poured out from within.

As mana permeated the world, some individuals with constitutions sensitive to mana spontaneously awakened abilities. These individuals, capable of using mana to enhance their bodies or wield skills, were called ‘ability users’.

Furthermore, the numerous items discovered within dungeons granted people abilities that transcended human limitations. This alone was shocking, but the true societal shift came not from ability users, but from the crystal moss found in the dungeons.

Crystal moss, a medium that allowed mana to be harnessed in everyday life.

As crystal moss fueled numerous new businesses and growth engines, humanity entered a new golden age.

The monsters that emerged from dungeons posed no threat to society unless one ventured inside. Those that occasionally appeared outside were generally weak and unintelligent.

Instead, the ability users who risked their lives to enter the dungeons were hailed as hunters and reaped the greatest rewards.

Even those without abilities found employment in dungeon-related fields.

Management roles that handled trivial tasks for hunters, explorers who focused on mapping dungeons rather than hunting, porters who accompanied hunters into dungeons, and miners who extracted crystal moss that only grew within dungeons.

Among these, scavenging, the job Hyun-woo performed, was arguably the lowest rung on the ladder.

“In fact, most of the groundbreaking achievements were made back then. Now, we’re just living off that legacy.”

Yoo-min gazed at the crystal moss residue in her sieve with a wistful expression.

“30 years ago, hunters who weren’t even level 10 explored dungeons while trembling. It seems incredible that they now regularly conquer 4-star dungeons and even attempt 5-star dungeons, but ultimately, it’s just interest groups controlling everything…”

“You’re quite interested in all this.”

“I really wanted to be involved with dungeons. I couldn’t become a hunter because I’m not an ability user, but I thought I could contribute somehow, but I’m still just a student.”

Her criticism of hunters seemed rooted in the regret of an unfulfilled dream. Hyun-woo couldn’t dismiss it as childish. He felt a similar yearning.

‘If only my ability user rating had been 1-star…’ [Ability users are ranked by stars, with higher stars indicating greater power.]

The income disparity between scavengers and hunters was immense.

Hunters could mine large crystal moss deposits that others couldn’t access, and they could sell monster corpses or items for hundreds of thousands, even millions, of won [Korean currency].

However, Kang Hyun-woo’s ability user rating was 0-star.

Designating him as an incompetent commoner. But 6.93 billion out of 7 billion people worldwide were commoners.

He was physically healthy and young, so there was nothing inherently wrong with it. After all, commoners drove much of the world’s progress. But Hyun-woo wasn’t content with his lot.

‘I want to rise up too.’

Hyun-woo yearned for more.

He had only known the bottom, the mire. He was more familiar with the thick scent of soil than the fresh air of the sky, the pungent odor of sewage than the refreshing breeze.

However, even with his feet mired in the muck, he wanted to reach for the stars.

***

Hyun-woo sold the crystal moss residue he had collected all day to a factory worker. Despite toiling in toxic waste, he earned 97,000 won. Less than usual.

It was better than a part-time job, but an absurdly small amount considering the risk to his life. But there weren’t many jobs available to Hyun-woo, an orphan, in an era where even part-time employers looked at TOEIC [Test of English for International Communication] scores.

‘If I’m lucky, I might hit the jackpot.’

If he was fortunate enough to find a large chunk, he could easily earn 300,000 won. And that wasn’t all. Rumors whispered of a scavenger who had amassed a fortune by collecting residue over years.

Going further, there was even a tale of a scavenger who, exposed to high-density mana, had awakened his abilities.

‘It’s not impossible, but…’

Spending extended periods in rooms saturated with mana from crystal moss could potentially awaken a 0-star individual to 1-star.

The key was one’s sensitivity to mana.

Even those with low sensitivity could become ability users if immersed in high-concentration mana.

‘Of course, it’s ridiculous to try that with crystal moss residue.’

That was something wealthy tycoons did to indulge their sense of privilege or maintain their health. As a result, it was rare for wealthy individuals not to be ability users.

Or, high-ranking officials from hunter clans would leverage their connections to take ordinary people to 4-star dungeons and awaken them.

‘Damn it.’

The world’s boundaries were clear, yet many crossed them with money and connections. If the rules were fair for everyone, there would be no complaints. But to Hyun-woo, the bar seemed impossibly high.

Just then, among the passing scavengers, a man watched them intently.

A middle-aged man in a neat suit, utterly out of place in the mire of the drain. Hyun-woo grew uneasy, wondering if he was a factory executive. The man’s gaze settled on Hyun-woo.

“Kang Hyun-woo?”

“Yes?”

Hyun-woo felt immediately wary. There was no reason for someone in such a suit to speak to him.

But the man reached into his pocket and produced a business card. The word ‘lawyer’ caught his eye before the name.

“I’m here to see you regarding your father, Kang [family name] Hyun-woo.”

“Father?”

Hyun-woo’s expression hardened. He had heard that his mother died shortly after giving birth to him, and he had grown up without ever knowing his father’s name.

His mind raced. Suddenly, his father was sending a lawyer to find him? Could this be a hidden-child-of-a-chaebol [Korean conglomerate] drama?

“I understand this is unsettling, but…”

The lawyer gently clasped Hyun-woo’s hand. Then, with a solemn expression, he continued.

“First, may the deceased rest in peace.”

The first news about his father, whom he was meeting for the first time in 29 years, was news of his death.

***

Back in his cramped studio apartment, Hyun-woo struggled to process his thoughts.

The news about his father, whom he was hearing about for the first time, was news of his death. To be honest, Hyun-woo harbored resentment towards his unknown father, but felt no affection.

Affection for giving birth? His mother had borne all the hardship, his father had simply enjoyed a moment, hadn’t he?

His father had planted the seed and then vanished. Even if there were extenuating circumstances, he didn’t want to know.

That was Hyun-woo’s cynical view. Moreover, his mother had died giving birth to him.

‘This is what the deceased left behind.’

The lawyer had given Hyun-woo a strange stone fragment with bizarre patterns etched into it. A small hole at the top suggested it could be worn as a necklace, but he couldn’t identify the material. The lawyer had answered Hyun-woo’s question.

‘It’s called a return stone.’

He said it was retrieved from a dungeon, but he didn’t know its purpose. Hyun-woo couldn’t understand why his father would leave him such a thing.

“Damn it, this just gives me a headache.”

Hyun-woo grumbled and turned on the TV to distract himself. But he couldn’t shake his thoughts.

Even on TV, the news revolved around hunters and dungeons. No matter how many channels he flipped through, even celebrity gossip was absent. All the channels broadcasted similar stories.

[Today, the Taesung Clan successfully conquered Taebaek, a 5-star dungeon! Lee Ji-tae, the leader of the expedition, discussed the significance of their success…]

[Is this only the third time a 5-star dungeon has been conquered worldwide? With Lee Ji-tae’s conquest of Taebaek Dungeon, Korea’s power and the status of its hunters have been firmly established globally…]

[The economic value derived from the conquest of Taebaek Dungeon is estimated at approximately 400 billion won…]

[Beyond mere economic value, this demonstrates Korea’s potential…]

Hyun-woo turned off the TV.

Conquering a 5-star dungeon. It was unprecedented in Korea, making it newsworthy, but Hyun-woo didn’t want to see any more dungeon-related news.

The face of the expedition leader flashed in his mind.

‘Lee Ji-tae.’

A third-generation chaebol [family-owned conglomerate] heir of the Taesung Group, a 4-star ability user from the moment he awakened, a hunter blessed with popularity, looks, and talent. The epitome of a golden spoon.

‘And all I inherited was a stone fragment.’

He was Hyun-woo’s opposite in every way. The disparity was so vast that he didn’t even feel inferior. He simply blamed the world’s absurd standards.

‘If life has difficulty levels, is his set to tutorial?’

What was his? Hyun-woo smiled wryly.

Difficulty or very difficult? No, nightmare or hell.

“Damn it, what nonsense are you thinking with all your limbs intact.”

But Hyun-woo wasn’t one to feel superior simply because someone else was worse off.

He always harbored ambition and a sense of failure. Hyun-woo turned the TV back on. News of Lee Ji-tae’s successful 5-star dungeon conquest was still being broadcast, sparking discussions. Hyun-woo fell asleep to the sound of the TV.

‘If my life is hell, I hope there’s a reward to match it.’

I want to rise. I want to rise even if I have to trample others.

I want to see how far my hands can reach. I want to touch the sky and grasp the stars.

Hyun-woo clenched the stone as if to crush it.

And at that moment, Hyun-woo’s wish was partially granted.

【Difficulty: Hell

Entering the Star of the End.】

“…What?”

But hell arrived before the reward.