The Dimensional Swordmaster C8

Chapter 8 How I Ended Up in Another World (8)

“Strange?”

He frowned. He had clearly killed the boss monster and seen the dungeon clear notification pop up. Whatever this “cooldown” period was supposed to be, surely half a day wasn’t long enough to cause concern.

— Beats me. I don’t know the details either. You’ll have to check it out yourself. We’ve already sent out the notice, so once the team’s assembled, you’ll probably head out tomorrow.

Siyoung rubbed his forehead, his gaze sliding toward the room where Yurian was staying.

“…Alright.”

Yes, this was purely an assignment. Something he was doing because the guild master ordered it.

It wasn’t as if he was bothered by the fact that he’d left a certain sword broken in that dungeon.

He was just going to investigate an unusual dungeon—that was all. It had absolutely nothing to do with Yurian’s sword weighing on his mind.

If he happened to see it in there, he’d pick it up. That didn’t mean he was going there for it, right?

— What are you muttering about?

Startled by his brother’s voice, Siyoung flinched. “Nothing,” he said quickly, eager to change the subject.

“Anyway, I’ll be there on time tomorrow. Hanging up now.”

He ended the call before his brother could reply.

Everything was proceeding exactly as planned. Sinking back into the couch, Siyoung exhaled, letting the tension drain from his shoulders.

“Ah, so basically, you want to know my rank?”

Morning came far too soon. A rough hand shook him awake, and before Yurian even managed to pry his eyes open, he found himself face-to-face with a very irritated Gong Siyoung.

He hadn’t even brushed the sleep from his eyes before being dragged off somewhere. Yawning made his eyes water slightly.

Siyoung pushed him forward impatiently. “Move it. Faster.”

“Is someone chasing us or something? What’s the rush?”

Yurian stumbled into the car, clicking his seatbelt into place with practiced awkwardness. He’d begun to realize something—Siyoung really seemed to dislike him.

Not that they’d even spoken long enough to justify such mutual dislike.

Yurian, for his part, didn’t hate him at all. Quite the opposite.

Because really—how could he? Siyoung was handsome. That sharp, feline face that reminded him of Ggambi was adorable, and that little mole on his cheek? Even cuter. By all accounts, Siyoung was exactly Yurian’s type.

His constant complaining and quick temper weren’t a problem either. Yurian had worked with men far more insufferable than this one and survived. Compared to those bastards, Siyoung was practically charming.

If anything, his crankiness was comforting. No one was kind without a reason. Siyoung’s open irritation made him feel more human—more honest.

“Not everyone’s as leisurely as you are,” Siyoung shot back.

He could’ve ignored him, but no—he had to reply. Maybe it was just his personality.

Yurian looked at him with curious eyes. No matter how annoyed Siyoung got, he always answered when questioned.

“‘Wow, what’s this,’ and ‘amazing’ are still banned,” Siyoung muttered, as if sensing what was coming next.

Still, if Yurian kept his tone light enough, the man would usually respond. And thanks to that, he’d learned a few things—like the name of this soft, fast, and suspiciously cozy contraption they were riding in.

“Car.”

Cute name.

And more importantly, he’d started to grasp what these people wanted from him.

They thought his world—the one he’d come from—was literally beyond the dungeon.

They wanted to know how he’d crossed over, where he’d come from, what it was like there. Through their endless questions, Yurian had realized the information he possessed was valuable—perhaps even vital.

So, in a way, they were in the same position he was: trying to verify truths neither side fully understood.

He didn’t mind. They’d asked him to accompany them back to the dungeon he’d first appeared in. That was fine by him—he’d planned to go back anyway, to retrieve his sword.

But apparently, it wasn’t as simple as just going.

To enter a dungeon, he’d need something called a Hunter’s License. And to get that, he had to undergo something called a rank assessment at the Hunter Bureau.

It all sounded unnecessarily complicated. In his world, all you needed to become a mercenary was a sword and a name.

In that sense, hunters were definitely closer to knights than mercenaries.

“Hey, I’ve got a question.”

Siyoung sighed through his nose, clearly bracing himself. But he didn’t say shut up, so Yurian took it as permission.

“How long does this rank assessment take?”

He needed to get it done quickly so he could enter the dungeon—and reclaim his sword.

“Depends on the person. Mine took about five hours. Lower ranks finish faster. The higher your rank, the longer it takes.”

“I see… So five hours is considered quick?”

“…Are you implying my rank is low?”

“I didn’t say that.”

How was he supposed to know what was fast or slow? He didn’t even have a reference point.

Siyoung’s face remained tense, his voice clipped.

“Five hours is long, alright? I’m S-rank, in case you didn’t know.”

He didn’t.

He’d guessed Siyoung was strong, but S-rank? What did that even mean?

“What’s an S-rank?”

“…You really don’t know what ranks are, do you?”

“Hey, I know what ranks are. Like circles of magic—first, second, third. The higher the number, the better, right?”

So maybe S-rank was like a Fifth Circle equivalent?

Before Siyoung could answer, Yurian casually reached toward the red triangle button again.

This time, Siyoung smacked his hand away like swatting a fly. The sting left a faint red mark across his knuckles.

Before Yurian could even complain, that icy glare froze him in place. Straightening up immediately, he folded his hands in his lap like an obedient child.

“…There are seven Hunter ranks,” Siyoung began curtly. “F, E, D, C, B, A, and S. I’ll explain this once, so listen carefully. And if you so much as touch another button, I’m leaving you on the side of the road.”

Yurian nodded solemnly.

Satisfied with the silence, Siyoung continued.

“F-rank hunters aren’t that different from normal people. They can use basic skills or items, but some are physically weaker than civilians.”

“What are skills and items?”

“…What I used in the dungeon. Things that let us attack or defend against monsters.”

Ah, so “skills” were basically like spells—and “items” must’ve been magical tools. He wanted to ask for confirmation but caught Siyoung’s sharp glare and thought better of it.

Only when he was sure Yurian would stay quiet did Siyoung continue, his voice tinged with irritation.

“From E-rank upward, the difference isn’t in strength but in effectiveness. Think of it this way: a D-rank healer can fix a cut, while an S-rank healer can reattach a severed limb.”

Yurian tried to make sense of it. F, E, D, C, B, A, S—rising in power, permanent once assigned.

Lower ranks could use high-rank items, but not to full effect; a B-rank using an S-rank weapon would still be weaker than an S-rank using a B-rank one.

In this world, a hunter’s rank was absolute.

“So if you’re graded F, you stay F forever? You can’t move up, no matter how hard you try?”

“In theory, yes.”

The more he learned, the more confusing it became.

He’d assumed hunters were like mages, but apparently not.

Mages started at the First Circle and climbed higher through effort and talent. It was difficult, yes—but not impossible.

He himself had clawed his way from First to Fifth Circle through sheer persistence.

“So how do they do this assessment? Is it like an exam?”

“Hardly. You’ll see when we get there. Nothing complicated.”

His explanation grew increasingly flat, as though he were already tired of talking.

Yurian took the hint and kept quiet.

It seemed the only thing improving during their conversations was his ability to read the room.

Speaking of rooms… food sounds nice right now.

When had he last eaten?

He’d been too distracted yesterday to notice, but now that he thought about it—he hadn’t eaten in two days.

He considered asking for food but glanced at Siyoung first. The man’s face was unreadable, eyes fixed straight ahead as the car sped smoothly down the open road.

“Um…”

“See that building up ahead?” Siyoung interrupted before he could continue. “That’s the Hunter Bureau. I’ll drop you off at the entrance, so pay attention.”

Yurian followed his pointing hand.

The massive structure loomed in the distance, gleaming in the sunlight.

“Wow,” he breathed softly. “That’s huge.”