Chapter 3: Immortal Through Death
Stepping out of the dungeon, Yoo Jihwan was greeted by an eerie stillness. The world outside felt... unreal.
Just moments ago, he had been immersed in the chaos of the Bloodmist Dungeon—the air thick with the stench of iron, the agonized screams of the dying, the whispers of unseen things lurking in the shadows.
Now, there was only silence. A suffocating, overwhelming quiet.
The chill of the night air bit at his skin, the distant flicker of city lights offering a cold, indifferent welcome. Each step felt foreign, as if the very ground beneath him no longer belonged to the same world.
His fingers curled into a fist, slow and deliberate.
He was still here. Alive.
They hadn't expected him to survive.
A bitter smirk tugged at his lips.
Yet, here he stood—the sole survivor.
But then, his vision wavered.
A weight, not physical but profound, descended upon him.
[ The Afterlife System has fully awakened. ]
An unfamiliar presence, cold and suffocating, clamped down on his soul. Invisible hands seemed to curl around him, pulling, whispering. His breath hitched, his body tensed, every nerve crying out.
Something was wrong.
A new message from the system flared before him.
[ A New Path has been revealed. ]
[ Initializing Status Update... ]
Reality flickered, bending at the edges of his perception. The world shifted, distorted, like a mirage that refused to settle.
Status Update
A translucent screen materialized before his eyes, displaying his status.
> [ Yoo Jihwan ]
Level: 3
Rank: E ~ ???
Class: Hunter ~ ???
Dark Energy: Low
Death Count: 1
Death Points (DP): 2
Jihwan's gaze lingered on the display, processing the changes. His level had increased, but his Rank and Class were undefined, as if something within him had yet to awaken. And then, there was Dark Energy—an unsettling presence, like smoldering embers waiting to ignite into something more. It felt like a power not entirely his own.
What the hell is this?
Before he could finish the thought, another message appeared.
[ Afterlife Exchange ]
[ New Items Are Available ]
[ Do you want to visit? ]
[ Yes / No ]
A glowing prompt hovered before him. He instinctively felt the need to check it out, but even as his curiosity flared, exhaustion slammed into him. The toll of his ordeal hit him like a wave. His muscles screamed in protest. His head throbbed with a dull, relentless ache. His vision swam, the edges of reality blurring.
Not now.
With a heavy exhale, he dismissed the message. There would be time for this later. Right now, there was only one thing he needed: rest.
He turned toward the city ahead. His apartment wasn't far. Tomorrow, he would figure out what the Afterlife System wanted from him.
The city, eerily silent at this hour, stretched out before him. The streets were nearly empty, save for the occasional flicker of headlights from passing cars. The neon streetlights cast long, ghostly shadows across the pavement.
He should've felt relieved. He had survived.
But survival didn't feel like victory.
The Bloodmist Dungeon had been a slaughterhouse, a place designed for execution—and he had walked out of it alone. His betrayers, the ones who'd tried to use him as fodder for the dungeon's monsters, had been reduced to corpses, torn apart by the very beasts they thought would claim him.
Yet, there was no satisfaction in the thought.
Only an empty, hollow numbness.
His boots scraped against the pavement, dried blood caked onto the soles. He hadn't even bothered to clean himself. The world outside felt... wrong. Like it hadn't fully accepted that he was back. As if, just an hour ago, he had been a lifeless body, nothing more than a casualty of the dungeon.
A car whizzed by, its headlights briefly illuminating his reflection in a shop window.
For a fleeting moment, his own face stared back at him—dark eyes, shadowed by exhaustion, blood splattered across his collar. His expression was unreadable, even to him.
Jihwan turned away.
The system had changed. He had changed.
And now, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.
He reached his apartment without incident.
The moment he shut the door behind him, exhaustion slammed into him like a tidal wave.
His apartment was small—barely furnished. A bed, a desk, and a single bookshelf lined with books he hadn't had time to read. The only light came from the streetlamp outside, casting faint shadows across the walls.
He shrugged off his bloodstained jacket and let it fall to the floor. His shirt, torn and stiff with dried blood, followed. Some of it was his. Some of it was from the others.
He should've felt disgusted. But all he felt was... tired.
[ The Afterlife System is now fully operational. ]
Jihwan inhaled deeply. He had been expecting this.
Without hesitation, he pulled up his Status Window.
Status Window
> [ Name ]: Yoo Jihwan
Rank: E ~ ???
Class: Hunter ~ ???
Death Count: 1
Death Points: 2
Dark Energy: Low
His eyes lingered on one particular line.
[ Death Count: 1 ]
Confirmation. Proof that the events inside the dungeon hadn't been some twisted hallucination.
He had died. And the system had recorded it.
More messages followed.
[ You can earn Death Points (DP) by dying and defeating opponents. ]
[ The amount of DP earned is based on: ]
— The brutality of your death.
— The strength of your opponents.
Jihwan's fingers twitched.
It wasn't just about survival.
This system wanted him to die.
And it rewarded him for it.
His breath came slow, deliberate. No panic. No fear.
He absorbed the information. Analyzed its implications.
Dying made him stronger.
If that was true—
Then he would make sure his deaths weren't in vain.
Another message popped up.
[ The Afterlife Exchange is now accessible. ]
[ New items are available. ]
[ Do you want to visit Afterlife Exchange? ]
[ Yes / No ]
Jihwan hesitated. Only for a moment.
Then, he answered.
"Yes."
The air in the room shifted. A new window appeared before him—not the usual system interface, but something darker.
The text was written in deep crimson, as if scrawled in dried blood. The edges of the window flickered, glitching in and out—like a signal from somewhere else.
[ Afterlife Exchange ]
☠ Cursed Dagger (5 DP)
— A dagger tainted by death itself. It inflicts wounds that do not heal easily.
☠ Cloak (10 DP)
— A cloak worn by those who have walked the path of death. It conceals the wearer's presence in dungeons.
☠ Soulbound Ring (15 DP)
— A ring that binds to the user upon wearing. It enhances the strength of death-related skills.
☠ ??? (Locked)
Jihwan's gaze lingered on the list.
None of these items were normal.
A weapon that caused wounds that never healed.
A cloak that erased the wearer's presence.
A ring that bound itself to the soul.
Everything here was meant for someone who had walked the path of death.
His eyes stopped on the Cursed Dagger.
5 DP. He could afford it.
But—
He leaned back against the bed, exhaling slowly.
This system... It wanted him to use it.
To spend DP. To keep dying. To feed into this cycle.
A quiet laugh escaped him.
It was tempting.
But not yet.
He closed the exchange window.
Tomorrow—he would decide what to do next.
For now, he needed rest.
Jihwan lay back, staring at the ceiling.
The events of the day replayed in his mind.
The betrayal.
The death.
The return.
What kind of existence had he stepped into?
His former self—the one who hesitated, who trusted the wrong people—was already gone.
Burned away in the Bloodmist Dungeon.
What remained was something new.
Something colder.
His fingers traced the faint scars on his palm.
If death had become a currency, then he would learn to use it.
He would master this system.
And one day—he would discover what lay beyond that final locked option.
Jihwan closed his eyes.
Tomorrow, the real game would begin.