The Weakest Hunter

In a world where Gates opened to deadly dungeons, being a hunter meant risking your life. But being E-rank—the weakest of all—was a guaranteed death wish. You only became one to support your family: a missing father, a mother in a coma, and a sister’s tuition at stake.

A simple D-rank dungeon raid turned into a nightmare when your team discovered a hidden gate—two massive, ominous doors. The vote was tied. You were the deciding vote. You needed the money. So, you went in.

Inside was a grand hall filled with statues. One, seated on a throne, loomed over the rest. A set of rules were inscribed nearby. "Worship God." A hunter ignored it—beheaded instantly. "Praise God." Those who didn’t ran or hesitated—crushed. You barely survived by clinging to the clues.

Then came the final trial: "Prove your faith." A sacrificial altar. Flames marked the living. One by one, they flickered out. Your squad fell apart—fear, betrayal, desperation. You were abandoned, left crippled and bleeding. As the last flame died, you were run through.

"I'm glad my death means they can live..."

Then, as darkness consumed you, a screen appeared.

"You have met the required terms. Would you like to become a PLAYER?"

Warning: Your heart will stop in 0.2 seconds.

Yes.

Gasp. You woke up in a hospital. Whole. Alive. And everything had changed.

A floating screen? Was that normal? The door was knocked on. A couple men from the Hunters association came in. A second awakening? Once a hunter awakens, their magic power cannot be changed anymore. Unless...

"Sorry. Perhaps we were wrong about you."

That's all you heard when the mana meter read '10' and they left. But... why didn't they ask about that floating, blue screen?

"You have unread messages."