The Crimson Blades training facility was nothing like Ji-woo expected.
He'd imagined a warehouse gym with weights and punching bags. Instead, the address Tae-yang had given him led to an unremarkable office building in Gangnam. The third floor, however, opened into something impossible—a pocket dimension, similar to dungeons but stable and controlled.
"Welcome to the Red Hall," Tae-yang said, gesturing to the vast training arena. "Our private dungeon. Cost the guild 500 million won in DRV to create, but it lets us train without risking death."
The space was enormous—easily the size of a football field—with multiple training zones. One section had combat dummies that moved and fought back. Another contained obstacle courses with real dungeon hazards like laser grids and spike pits. A third area was dedicated to sparring, with Reapers fighting each other under controlled conditions.
"How does it work?" Ji-woo asked. "No death?"
"Injuries are real, pain is real, but damage caps at 10% HP. Once you hit that threshold, you're teleported to the recovery zone." Tae-yang pointed to a corner where several Reapers sat on benches, being healed by guild medics. "It's not perfect—you can still get hurt badly—but it eliminates the permanent death risk."
Twenty Crimson Blade members were training when Ji-woo arrived. They stopped and stared at the independent who'd somehow earned entrance to their sacred space.
Commander Baek Soo-yeon stood at the arena's center, arms crossed, evaluating him with sharp eyes. Up close, she was even more intimidating—scars on her hands, a presence that suggested she'd killed hundreds of dungeon monsters personally.
"Kim Ji-woo. Level 7, two weeks active, 7 dungeons cleared." Her voice was analytical, devoid of emotion. "Tae-yang says you have potential. I say you're a statistical anomaly. Let's see which is correct."
She snapped her fingers. "Min-ji. Show him what Crimson Blades level 9 looks like."
Min-ji stepped forward, twin daggers already in hand. The same woman who'd hunted Ji-woo through the electronics market dungeon now faced him in controlled combat.
"Rules are simple," Commander Baek said. "Fight until one of you hits 10% HP. Use everything you've got—skills, equipment, tactics. Begin."
Min-ji moved first, her speed even more terrifying in a confined space. Her daggers came at Ji-woo from multiple angles simultaneously, a whirling storm of steel.
Ji-woo dodged left, then right, his high Agility barely keeping him ahead. He countered with his Corrupted Surgeon's Scalpel, but Min-ji deflected it easily.
[HP: 198/220]
A shallow cut across his forearm. She was toying with him, testing his reflexes.
"You're fast," Min-ji said conversationally. "But speed without technique is just flailing."
She demonstrated by shifting her pattern. Instead of overwhelming attacks, she used precise strikes targeting vital points—throat, arteries, joints. Ji-woo blocked desperately, each parry jarring his arm.
[HP: 176/220]
[HP: 154/220]
He was losing badly. Min-ji's experience showed in every movement—she wasted no energy, made no unnecessary motions, and punished every mistake Ji-woo made.
"Desperate Strike!" Ji-woo activated his skill, his empowered scalpel aimed at Min-ji's center mass.
She dodged it. Not barely—comfortably, like she'd known it was coming.
"Predictable," she said. "You telegraphed that skill activation. Your breathing changed, your grip tightened. Against dungeon monsters, that's fine. Against experienced Reapers? Fatal."
Her counterattack was brutal. Both daggers struck simultaneously, one high and one low, forcing Ji-woo to choose which to block.
He chose wrong.
[HP: 98/220]
[HP: 44/220]
[HP CRITICAL: 22/220]
Ji-woo found himself teleported to the recovery zone, gasping. The fight had lasted less than three minutes.
Min-ji appeared beside him, not even breathing hard. "You're not bad for level 7. But you've been fighting monsters, not people. There's a difference."
A guild medic pressed healing hands to Ji-woo's wounds. The injuries closed, though the memory of pain lingered.
[HP: 220/220]
Commander Baek approached. "Analysis. What did you learn?"
Ji-woo swallowed his pride. "I telegraph my skills. I don't have techniques for fighting other Reapers. I rely too much on instinct instead of training."
"Correct on all counts." Baek nodded approvingly. "Most independents never realize this. They fight monsters for weeks, develop bad habits, then die when they face a guild Reaper. You're smarter—you recognized your weaknesses."
She gestured to the training zones. "You have thirty days. We'll fix those weaknesses. Min-ji will teach you anti-Reaper combat. Sung-ho will drill you on defensive positioning. Tae-yang will work on skill timing and feints. By the time the Convergence arrives, you'll be able to hold your own against international guild members."
"What's the catch?"
Baek smiled coldly. "The catch is you survive. We're investing training time in you because we think you'll make it through the Convergence. If you die there, we wasted resources. Don't waste our resources, Kim Ji-woo."
The training began immediately.
Min-ji took him to the sparring zone. "Lesson one: reading your opponent. Every Reaper has tells before they activate skills. Watch."
She demonstrated in slow motion—the subtle shift in posture before a dash, the micro-expression before a strike, the change in breathing before a defensive skill.
"Now you try. Attack me and I'll point out your tells."
For the next four hours, Ji-woo attacked Min-ji repeatedly. Each time, she stopped him and explained what he'd done wrong.
"You tense your shoulders before Desperate Strike."
"Your eyes track where you're going to dodge."
"You shift your weight onto your back foot before retreating."
It was humiliating. Every unconscious habit, every little tell that monsters never noticed but humans would exploit—Min-ji cataloged them all.
By hour five, Ji-woo was mentally exhausted even though his HP remained high.
"Enough," Min-ji said. "You're learning, but diminishing returns set in after five hours. Rest. Eat. Come back tomorrow."
Ji-woo stumbled out of the Red Hall into the real world. Late afternoon sunlight felt surreal after hours in the pocket dimension.
His phone buzzed—Ha-yoon from Silver Dawn.
Our training facility opens tomorrow. Information warfare class starts at 9 AM. Bring your tactical thinking.
Another text from the Iron King: Independent coordination drill on Wednesday. Bukhansan foothills. Learn to fight without formal command structure.
And finally, Yoon: Our group is meeting tonight. We need to plan how to use these guild resources without getting absorbed by them.
Ji-woo grabbed food from a convenience store—not his old workplace, he still couldn't face that—and ate mechanically while checking his status.
[KIM JI-WOO - LEVEL 7 DEBT REAPER]
[EXPERIENCE: 89/600]
His next level was still far away. At level 7, dungeons gave less experience—the system wanted him to challenge himself with harder content.
That evening, Ji-woo met with Yoon's group at a private room in a Gangnam restaurant. All eight independents were there, looking as exhausted as he felt.
"Show of hands," Yoon said. "Who trained with guilds today?"
Six hands went up, including Ji-woo's.
"They're good," Hye-jin admitted reluctantly. "Crimson Blades' facility is military-grade training. I learned more in six hours than I did in six weeks of solo dungeons."
"Silver Dawn's intelligence briefings are insane," Min-seok added. "They have dossiers on hundreds of international Reapers. Levels, skills, fighting styles, weaknesses. They've been preparing for something like the Convergence for months."
"Iron Chains showed me coordination tactics," Da-eun said quietly. "How to fight as a unit without formal leadership. It's... actually really effective."
Dr. Kang leaned forward. "Here's my concern. The training is excellent, but we're becoming dependent. Every day we spend in their facilities, we learn their methods, adopt their strategies. What happens after the Convergence when we're back to being independents?"
"We'll be stronger," Ji-woo said. "Strong enough to stay independent."
"Or we'll be so integrated into their systems that leaving becomes impossible," Sung-min countered. "I've been analyzing the social dynamics. The guilds aren't just training us—they're recruiting us. Slowly, methodically, making us realize how much better life is with guild backing."
Yoon nodded grimly. "I've noticed it too. The question is: do we care? If we survive the Convergence by using guild resources, does it matter if we end up joining afterward?"
"Yes," Ji-woo said firmly. "Because the moment you join a guild, they own your debt reduction. Twenty percent of everything you earn goes to them forever. That's slavery with extra steps."
"But staying independent means higher death risk," Hye-jin countered. "The guilds have a point—solo Reapers don't last past level 10."
"Then we change that," Ji-woo said. "We use the next thirty days to learn everything the guilds know. We take their training, their intelligence, their tactics. Then after the Convergence, we use that knowledge to create something new."
"Like what?" Min-seok asked.
"A true independent coalition. Not a guild with commanders and mandatory cuts. A network of equals who cooperate when it benefits everyone and operate solo when it doesn't." Ji-woo looked around the table. "The guilds control Seoul because they have resources and coordination. What if independents had the same?"
"That's basically Iron Chains' model," Dr. Kang pointed out.
"No. Iron Chains still has a leader—the Iron King. He makes final decisions. What I'm talking about is fully distributed. No leaders, no hierarchy, just mutual benefit."
Yoon studied him. "You've been thinking about this."
"Every day since the summit." Ji-woo pulled out his phone and showed them notes he'd been compiling. "The system rewards cooperation but doesn't require formal structures. What if we built something that captures the benefits of guilds without the control mechanisms?"
They spent the next two hours brainstorming. By the end, they had a rough framework:
THE INDEPENDENT NETWORK
No formal membership or dues Information sharing through encrypted channels Voluntary coordination on dungeon runs Resource pooling for major purchases Mutual defense pacts against guild aggression Exit anytime with no penalties
"It's ambitious," Sung-min said. "But theoretically viable. The main challenge is trust—without formal enforcement mechanisms, everything depends on reputation."
"That's a feature, not a bug," Ji-woo replied. "Guilds enforce loyalty through threats and contracts. We enforce it through demonstrated trustworthiness. People who betray the network get cut off. People who contribute gain reputation and access."
"We'd need a reputation system," Dr. Kang mused. "Some way to track who helps and who takes."
"Blockchain," Sung-min said immediately. "Decentralized ledger. Every favor, every resource share, every coordination effort gets recorded. Public but anonymous. Your reputation follows you."
The more they discussed it, the more excited they became. Not for now—now they needed the guilds to survive the Convergence—but for after. A post-Convergence world where independents weren't prey.
"We keep this quiet," Yoon said finally. "Use the next thirty days to build the technical infrastructure while training with guilds. After the Convergence, we launch publicly."
Everyone agreed.
Ji-woo left the meeting energized despite his exhaustion. He had a plan now. Short-term: survive through guild cooperation. Long-term: build something that made guilds optional.
His phone buzzed with a new dungeon notification.
[NEW DUNGEON AVAILABLE]
[LOCATION: NAMSAN TOWER INTERIOR - LEVEL 7]
[RECOMMENDED COMPLETION TIME: 48 HOURS]
[WARNING: AERIAL COMBAT - BRING RANGED OPTIONS]
A level 7 dungeon. His first equal-level challenge since reaching level 7. The system was giving him exactly what he needed to level up again.
But aerial combat? His scalpel was melee. He'd need to adapt.
Ji-woo opened the shop interface. He still had his items from previous dungeons, but nothing ranged. He'd have to rely on tactics and environment.
Or...
He checked his debt reduction balance. If he converted ₩10,000,000 to DRV, he could afford something useful.
[HUNTER'S THROWING KNIVES (SET OF 10)]
[DAMAGE: 20-30 EACH]
[SPECIAL: RETURN TO INVENTORY AFTER IMPACT]
[COST: 10 DRV]
Reusable throwing knives. Perfect for aerial targets.
Ji-woo made the purchase.
[CURRENT DEBT: ₩812,000,000]
His debt went up, but his survival odds went up more. Fair trade.
Tomorrow he'd tackle Namsan Tower. Tonight, he'd rest.
As Ji-woo walked home through Seoul's neon-lit streets, he felt different than he had two weeks ago. Stronger, obviously. More skilled, definitely. But also more connected—part of something larger than himself.
He had allies now. Plans. Purpose beyond simple survival.
And somewhere in the system's code, watching thousands of Debt Reapers prepare for the Convergence, something vast smiled again.
The game was progressing exactly as designed.
[END OF CHAPTER 13]