The sky over London split open on a Tuesday.
It wasn't lightning.
It wasn't magic, at least not the kind people expected.
It was a door.
A massive, translucent rift tore through the clouds above Canary Wharf, stretching like cracked glass across the horizon. Red warning text burned itself into the air, visible to every human eye.
[Dungeon Breach Detected]
[Access Level: F–S]
[Multidimensional Synchronization Complete]
People screamed. Cars crashed. Phones stopped working.
And just like that, the age of Hunters began.
Three years later.
Elliot Crane tightened his grip on the rusted dagger in his hand and tried not to shake.
This is stupid, he thought for the hundredth time.
The dungeon entrance pulsed faintly in front of him—a moss-covered stone archway wedged between two abandoned council flats in East London. Green mist leaked from its edges, smelling like rot and damp earth.
This was a Low-Risk Dungeon.
Rank F.
That's what the Guild had said.
Elliot had believed them because he needed to.
He was an F-rank Hunter himself—barely awakened, with stats so low they were a joke in the forums.
Name: Elliot Crane
Level: 2
Rank: F
Strength: 6
Agility: 7
Endurance: 5
Mana: 0
Perception: 6
Special Skills: None
A walking corpse, by dungeon standards.
Other Hunters entered dungeons to grow stronger.
Elliot entered them to survive rent.
"Just one goblin," he muttered. "One kill. Get paid. Leave."
The dungeon swallowed him whole.
The air inside was cold and wet. Roots hung from the ceiling, and faint bioluminescent fungi cast sickly green light across the stone corridors.
Crunch.
Elliot froze.
A sound came from ahead—bare feet scraping stone.
Then it stepped into view.
A goblin.
It was shorter than Elliot, hunched and wiry, with sickly green skin and yellow eyes filled with malice. Rusty cleaver in hand. Sharp teeth bared in a grin that promised pain.
[Goblin – Level 3]
Elliot's heart dropped.
Level three?
This dungeon was supposed to cap at level one.
He raised his dagger anyway.
"Stay back—!"
The goblin screamed.
It lunged.
Pain exploded through Elliot's side as the cleaver tore into him. He crashed against the dungeon wall, breath knocked out of his lungs. Warm blood soaked his jacket.
The dagger clattered uselessly to the floor.
The goblin approached slowly now, savoring it.
Elliot tried to crawl. His hands slipped in his own blood.
I'm going to die, he realized.
No heroic awakening.
No hidden talent.
Just another weak Hunter swallowed by the dungeon.
The goblin raised its cleaver.
[Fatal Damage Detected]
[Emergency Condition Met]
Elliot's vision blurred.
Then—
A sound echoed in his mind.
Not mechanical.
Cheerful.
Warm.
HO. HO. HO.
The dungeon froze.
Snow fell.
Inside the dungeon.
Red and green light exploded before Elliot's eyes, forming a glowing interface unlike any System he had ever seen.
[Santa System Has Been Activated]
[Candidate Selected: Elliot Crane]
[Reason: Naughty World. Nice Soul.]
"What…?" Elliot whispered.
The goblin shrieked as a massive red-gloved hand grabbed it by the skull and slammed it into the ground.
[Gift Delivered: Lump of Coal]
[Target Status: Deceased]
The goblin dissolved into black smoke.
Elliot lay there, bleeding, staring at the floating text as bells jingled softly in the distance.
[Welcome, New Santa.]
[Your Job: Reward the Good. Punish the Naughty.]
[Dungeon Access Expanded: Multidimensional Chimney Routes Unlocked]
A final message appeared, glowing brighter than the rest.
[Ho Ho Ho.]
[Let's Save Christmas.]
Elliot passed out smiling.