This F-Rank Bubble Mage Is Too OP!

As River stared at the scorched patch where Kayl had been standing moments ago, a sharp whistling sound cut through the dead forest air. It was fast, sharp—like the sound of something plummeting from an impossible height.

Instinctively, River tilted his head upward. His gaze caught the sight of a massive figure tumbling through the moonlit sky—Kayl.

The leader of the Limo Group slammed into the ground with a sickening boom, the impact shaking the brittle earth. A plume of dust erupted on impact, blanketing the scene in a thick, choking cloud.

River stopped a few steps away, eyes narrowing. "Hmm… was that cracking sounds I heard?"

With a flick of his hand, he channeled a light burst of mana. A controlled gust surged outward, scattering the dust like it was nothing. The view that emerged was enough to confirm his suspicion.

At the center of a shallow crater lay Kayl, sprawled like a broken doll. The black battlesuit that once hugged his massive frame was charred and torn in multiple places, the aftermath of being caught in the detonation of dozens of Bubble Bombs. His skin beneath was scorched, blistered, and in some places burned clean through to muscle.

His limbs were twisted at angles that nature never intended. Jagged shards of bone jutted from his arms and legs, white against the red pooling beneath him. The blood seeped into the lifeless soil, staining the ash-grey ground in a grotesque halo.

River didn't flinch. He had seen worse—much worse. There was no horror left to be found here, only the familiar stillness of a battlefield after the violence. His mask hid his face, but even without it, his expression would have been the same—cold, calculating, detached.

"Do you want to live?" River's voice was steady, almost conversational. Around Kayl's head, a ring of softly glowing Bubble Bombs floated into existence, each one glistening faintly in the moonlight.

Kayl's eyes widened in terror. The arrogant defiance he had carried earlier was gone, replaced by raw, animal fear. He swallowed hard, throat audibly clicking, and gave a weak nod.

"The treasures," River said, tone brooking no argument. "Take them out of your Inventory."

There wasn't even a moment of hesitation. With trembling fingers—what little movement he could still muster—Kayl complied. Two pulses of white light formed in front of him, coalescing into solid shape.

One was a strange yellow vial, its glass molded to resemble a sharpened bone. The other was a black crystal, its surface shifting as if something dark and alive pulsed within it.

River's gaze lingered on them briefly. Both were medium grade. The crystal could serve as the core material for crafting low to mid-grade weapons or enchantments, while the bone vial's contents would be worth a small fortune to the markey—especially those dealing in enhancement potions.

Kayl's voice was hoarse, trembling with desperation. "I… these are yours… just—spare me." Every syllable sent fresh waves of pain through his battered body.

River remained silent for a long moment, the Bubble Bombs above Kayl's head drifting lazily, their rainbow sheen reflecting in the dying light of the forest.

River withdrew the mana surrounding the Bubble Bombs, letting them dissolve into faint sparks of rainbow mist. The tension in the air eased, though only slightly. Without another glance at Kayl's broken form, he stepped forward, boots crunching against the cracked, bloodstained earth, and picked up the treasures lying beside the crater.

He rolled each item in his hand, inspecting them with practiced eyes. A faint glimmer of satisfaction passed behind his mask. With a swipe of his hand, both vanished into his Inventory with a flash of soft light.

"Thanks for doing business with you," River said casually, his tone almost cheerful.

Kayl's eyes bulged. If his body weren't so mangled, he might have leapt up to strangle the masked man on the spot.

Doing business? Mother*fcker! This wasn't business!

Inside his head, curses raged like a storm. The EXP, the loot, every damn thing here should've been mine! You just waltz in, steal the kill, and rob me blind! And you have the nerve to sound polite about it?!

His jaw tightened until his teeth ground painfully together, but outwardly he stayed silent. Not because he wanted to—no, if his body still obeyed him, the forest would be echoing with his fury. But his limbs lay useless, bones jutting like splintered spears, pain flaring with even the smallest breath.

Defeat was a taste he hadn't known in a long time. As an E-Rank Hunter teetering on the edge of D-Rank, Kayl had ruled over this dungeon tier like a predator among prey. Few could match him here… and yet this strange, masked man had not only matched him—he had humiliated him.

In Kayl's mind, there was no justice in this. If you're that strong, you should be clearing higher-ranked dungeons, not stealing from those below you!

But even as anger burned through him, a colder ember formed beneath it—an ember that would one day grow into something far more dangerous. Kayl etched every detail of this moment into memory: the mask, the voice, the unbearable arrogance. He would remember. And one day, he would make River pay.

…

River, however, had already moved on.

After knocking out the remaining conscious members of the Limo Group with precise, non-lethal strikes, he slipped away from the scene without a backward glance. His footsteps were light, deliberate—almost buoyant. Anyone watching would know instantly: he was in a good mood.

And why wouldn't he be?

As he moved between the skeletal trunks of the dying forest, he repeatedly opened his Inventory window, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth beneath the mask.

The first item he had claimed was the Yellow Syrup, a viscous liquid sealed in a glass vial shaped like sharpened bone. To an ordinary eye, it might seem strange or even grotesque, but to Hunters, it was a precious prize. Its most common use was as the core ingredient for brewing an Enhancer—a potion that could force a Hunter's body to undergo a form of evolution. The transformation wouldn't grant Status Points like leveling up, but it would refine the Hunter's physique and mana, making them stronger overall.

The second treasure was the Rotling's Heart. A pulsing, black crystal that almost seemed alive, as if something inside it were slowly breathing. When forged into a weapon, the crystal imbued it with two devastating effects: increased true damage and a natural Fear Debuff that gnawed at the target's mind. Fear slowed the body, dulled the senses, and crippled mana regeneration—a perfect weapon against both physical and magical opponents.

Then there was the third treasure—one far more mysterious. The Heart of Myra, a prize he had claimed from a quest within the Awakening Dungeon. River still didn't fully understand its properties, but the System had confirmed it could be fashioned into a weapon. That alone meant it was worth holding onto until he learned more.

Finally, tucked away deeper in his Inventory, was something else entirely: a plain, white book that radiated an unsettling sense of potential. He hadn't yet dared to tamper with it. For now, it sat alongside his other valuables, a silent promise of knowledge—or danger—waiting to be unlocked.

In total, excluding his nearly worn-down D+ Grade Steel Dagger, River now carried four rare treasures. The dagger itself had only a few more dungeons left in it before it would be too dull to use, but with the materials he had gathered, crafting a replacement was no longer a distant concern.

River's pace slowed for a moment as he looked at the shimmering interface of his Inventory one last time before closing it. The loot wasn't just valuable—it was a step forward. A step toward the preparation he needed for that someone.

The forest around him groaned with the wind, branches of the withered trees rattling like bones. Somewhere in the darkness, faint growls echoed, the sound of lesser dungeon creatures prowling.

River adjusted his mask, his mind already shifting from the battle behind him to the journey ahead. The dungeon wasn't cleared yet, and there were still threats lurking in its depths. But now, with these new prizes, he had more than enough reason to press forward.

What if there's another Alpha Rotling?

The thought slithered into River's mind like a spark, quick to ignite his anticipation. What if it drops another treasure? Even in an E-Rank dungeon, the odds of encountering more than one Alpha were laughably small—but not impossible. And River knew better than most that "impossible" had a way of showing up when you least expected it.

He had seen plenty of treasures in his time—seen, held, and wielded ones so potent that lesser artifacts seemed like toys beside them. As one of the Last Hunters, River had commanded resources that, in this era, would be enough to plunge entire cities into chaos. Some of those relics could change the course of history if the wrong hands ever touched them.

But now… he was back in the past. Here, he had no vaults brimming with ancient weapons, no armies at his back. Even so, the treasures he had just taken—while not heaven-defying—were enough to make him feel the old thrill again.

"Hmm," he murmured to himself, voice low beneath the mask. "With this, my chances of standing in front of the 'ocean' should be high."

The word lingered like a secret. The ocean is not just any water—it was the turning point. His plans were many, and his steps precise, meet that Someone, find his best friend—alive, this time, uncover the mysteries that would eventually give birth to the Red Sky and many more.

But before any of that, he needed the cooperation of the White Knight Freya. And to secure that, the ocean would have to surround Voulton.

The forest around him creaked and whispered in the cold wind, the dying trees stretching their brittle limbs toward a sky dimmed by the dungeon's false light. The ground beneath his shoes was soft with decay, a carpet of dead leaves and tangled roots.

Movement flickered at the edge of his vision. A chorus of wet, chittering sounds followed—a pack of Rotlings, their hunched forms spilling out from behind the twisted trunks.

River's lips curled into a smile.

With a casual sweep of his hand, spheres of shimmering blue light bloomed into existence around him—dozens of Bubble Bombs, each pulsing with restrained power.

The next heartbeat was filled with sound.

A staccato chain of explosions tore through the forest, shaking the skeletal trees and scattering Rotling limbs into the shadows.