Cheon Geonyoung stared silently at the door they were about to enter.
“If you’re being urged, go ahead. Follow Teacher Choi and move.”
One of the teachers led the four students to the central door.
In front of the door lay bags containing their weapons and emergency supplies.
Espers picked up the Esper-specific bags, while Guides took the Guide-specific ones.
Each bag was large and heavy enough for a child to crawl into.
As the students gathered their gear, Teacher Choi recited safety instructions with a tense expression.
“This door connects to a space designed to closely mimic the dungeon. The monsters that appear are all puppets, so even if they bite you, you won’t die—but bruises will last a long time. However, the water is real, so be careful.”
“Yes.”
Yoon Taeha answered firmly, and Teacher Choi gave her a faint smile.
“You already know this is a dungeon where each team must clear their assigned sections, right?”
She glanced around at the students as she asked.
“Guides enter from the east and west, Espers from the north and south. East and south form one team, while north and west form another.”
Upon hearing this, the students exchanged glances with their partners.
“Who wants to take the west entrance?”
“I’ll do it.”
Yeo Pil-joon raised his hand.
“Alright. There’s no difference in difficulty anyway,” the teacher said, turning to Yoon Taeha and Cheon Geonyoung for confirmation. They both nodded.
“It doesn’t matter to us.”
With Cheon Geonyoung’s straightforward response, the teacher sighed in relief, as if crossing one hurdle. Teams wasting 30 minutes on power struggles in situations like these were not uncommon.
Teacher Choi warned them with visible concern.
“Communications will remain connected to headquarters. Call immediately if there’s an issue…”
“This is such a waste of time, Teacher. At this rate, the whale’s heart might explode, and we’ll all die,” Yeo Pil-joon cut her off bluntly. The teacher bit her lip, authenticated her identity, and opened the door.
Strangely, salty sea air wafted through the doorway. Students waiting behind craned their necks curiously.
The now-stiffened teacher’s voice pushed them forward.
“Move out.”
The four stepped into the dark space.
________________________________________
The Heart of the White Whale has four rooms.
Each room contains a mechanism essential for clearing the dungeon.
Of course, the method of clearance had already been disclosed. All the students needed to do was faithfully follow it with their partners.
“If it were that easy, everyone would get perfect scores.”
• The Heart of the White Whale is a dungeon Master cleared before, right?
Yoon Taeha entered the southern room and adjusted her communication device in her ear. She then secretly connected Jet.
The southern room she entered felt like stepping inside a giant beast—damp, with a foul stench.
Recognizing even the smell had been meticulously replicated, she grimaced upon entering.
The enormous heartbeat of the beast echoed like drumbeats. The walls pulsed continuously, as if alive.
• The dungeon’s difficulty has been adjusted for two players.
“It had to be. Physical limitations make it impossible to clear alone. Even I might’ve struggled without my advance team.”
• You’re not saying you couldn’t clear it?
“I’ve done it before.”
Taeha inspected the contents of the bag provided by the shelter. It contained survival gear and weapons for emergencies.
• Master and Cheon Geonyoung need to clear the east and south rooms, then escape through the lower node.
• Kang Jin-ho and Yeo Pil-joon will escape through the upper node.
• The game ends when someone destroys the core inside the node and escapes first.
“Thanks for reminding me.”
• Based on my scans, surveillance cameras are only placed around the two nodes.
From the weapons crate came a replica of “Shadow of the Abyss,” which she had preselected.
She slipped the crude golden ring onto the index finger of her left hand. Secretly brought along, the real Shadow of the Abyss rested on the same hand’s ring finger.
Two mismatched rings sparkled faintly on her hand, awaiting her command.
• Now all you have to do is wait.
“Right. This waiting period was always the hardest part in actual combat too.”
• Cheon Geonyoung must be busy right now.
“The guides’ rooms, east and west, will flood with monsters as soon as they enter.”
She imagined the scene in the opposite room—not entirely beautiful. Marine monsters that endlessly resurrect unless their core is destroyed perfectly.
Her brow furrowed involuntarily.
• Aren’t you worried?
“Our weapons can handle it.”
Yoon Taeha added in a slightly eerie tone:
“For a while, I won’t want to eat seafood. Especially shrimp.”
• Once Cheon Geonyoung clears the east room, you’ll have your task.
“This type of dungeon is what I hate most.”
• Dungeons requiring cooperation, correct?
She spoke in a somewhat embarrassed voice:
“It hurts when you put it so bluntly.”
• Students who showed rising performance during mock evaluations sustained major injuries here.
“Just look at this creepy room… Few places are better for harming people than simulated dungeons. Blind spots everywhere, communications frequently cut off.”
• Do you think Kang Jin-ho really intends to kill you?
“He sounded like he did during the wiretap.”
• It’s unfortunate that Master needs to face danger to secure solid evidence.
“That’s how undercover operations work.”
No sooner had she finished speaking than the wall beside her bulged outward. Frowning, Taeha slung her bag over her shoulder and positioned herself in the center of the room.
This dungeon connected rooms like chambers of a heart.
The first step was for the guide to eliminate the monsters and destroy the protrusion called the “Whale’s Thorn” in their respective rooms.
• After the thorn is destroyed, water will begin flooding the eastern room where Cheon Geonyoung is.
“The water is real.”
• If you don’t break through the wall to create a passage, he’ll drown—or worse.
“He won’t die here, but in real combat, that happened. That’s why it was more dangerous.”
She tried to focus less on the stench, which grew increasingly unbearable, while the walls surged violently.
“This is exhausting.”
• Are you referring to yourself?
“Firing a gun for an hour straight without backup isn’t simple.”
• You mean Cheon Geonyoung?
Mm. She didn’t answer. Sensing hesitation, Jet responded:
• Unnecessary worry.
“Is it?”
• Communication from Cheon Geonyoung incoming.
• From this point on, the conversation will be exposed to Shelter HQ.
“Switch.”
As soon as the channel switched, the sound of boots splashing through water reached her ears.
Uniform steps. Clicking sounds. Steady breathing.
She could picture Cheon Geonyoung moving. Calmly, she waited for him to speak.
• Prepare to create a passage.
• Cover your ears briefly.
She slightly removed the communicator from her ear. An earsplitting gunshot followed. On the other side, something hard exploded with a loud thud .
She quickly scanned her surroundings.
When the thorn bursts, part of the wall changes color.
Scanning the crimson walls, she noticed a section on her right turn bright purple.
That’s the spot she needed to break through for Cheon Geonyoung to cross.
“I’ve located the passage. Starting to create it.”
Using her replica weapon, blue feathers she’d prepared beforehand surged toward the purple wall. As they pierced painfully into the wall, it vibrated violently.
Suddenly, tentacles shot out from the wall, warning her not to continue.
BANG!
She swiftly dealt with them using a preloaded pistol, taking extra care to avoid direct contact with her skin.
Maintaining summoned entities mid-battle wasn’t easy.
After dealing with several tentacles, a hole finally appeared in the wall—the exact outcome she wanted. She sent one blue feather flying into it.
The feather passed through without resistance.
This confirmed the correct passage location.
She informed Cheon Geonyoung:
“I’ve made a hole. Wait just a moment.”
While fending off intruders trying to block her progress, Taeha widened the opening until it was large enough for someone to pass through.
However, as the hole expanded, an enormous tentacle emerged—larger than anything she’d encountered so far—and lunged at her waist.
“Even this much…”
An instinct told her it would hurt if struck.
Dodging quickly, she focused her floating feathers in midair.
“Stack. Stack. Stack.”
Others found even a single stacking exhausting, but she poured multiple layers into it.
As soon as her command ended, thin feathers began merging into one massive spear-like shape. The glowing blue projectile drilled directly into the tentacle-ridden wall.
SCREEEECH.
A metallic scraping sound came from the replicated ring, but she ignored it.
“Stack again.”
Additional feathers materialized in the air, joining the spearhead to increase its size.
BAM!
Finally unable to withstand the pressure, the tentacle burst apart, instantly fragmenting into small, fluffy pieces.
Knowing exactly when it would explode, she managed to evade the debris.
“Passage secured from east to south.”
• Confirmed.
The communication was brief and curt. Unlike regular phone calls, this felt far more formal and sharp.
Perhaps this is how soldiers sound.
Lost in thought, she kicked the spot where the massive tentacle had emerged.
It sounded like an old pumpkin bursting open. Simultaneously, a hidden compartment revealed itself.
“I’ve opened the door to the lower node. Enter the southern room and follow the central pathway.”
After double-checking the passage, Taeha moved quickly.
________________________________________
“Make sure to create the passage first. I absolutely hate drinking water.”
Yeo Pil-joon threatened as he headed to the western room. Before he even finished speaking, Kang Jin-ho had already moved toward the northern room.
Entering the pulsating, heart-like chamber, he grimaced. It wasn’t a place he wanted to stay in for long.
As expected, his partner was useless. Not long after, nerve-grating screams leaked through the communication device.
Sitting cross-legged atop the supplied bag, Kang Jin-ho muttered:
“…Completely useless trash.”
On the storage device gifted by Ko Myung-sung was a hidden method to clear this dungeon.
<Not publicly disclosed yet.>
<For the Whale’s Heart dungeon, three identical versions exist.>
<Thus, there are three solutions. The publicly revealed one is the least risky.>
He doubted he could defeat the transfer students using the standard method. Moreover, success in this dungeon heavily depended on the partner’s capabilities.
He loaded his pistol.
Ignoring his partner’s pleas, he unleashed indiscriminate gunfire at the wall.
Amplifiers coursed through his system, leaving him brimming with energy even when fatigue should’ve set in.
As he continued firing, various-sized tentacles erupted from the wall. Ignoring the smaller ones brushing against his skin, he focused solely on the larger ones.
BANG!
Once the merciless barrage ended, a massive tentacle fell to the ground. He kicked the wall, revealing the path to the node.
• Kang Jin-ho! Kang Jin-ho! Don’t go ahead under any circumstances—it’s hell over here! I’ll handle it somehow, just wait…
He cut off communications after his partner’s frantic voice faded.
Entering the central pathway, he walked forward without looking back.
After walking for a while, he spotted what looked like a massive fin-like valve attached to the wall—large enough for only one person to squeeze through.
“…Here.”
Attacking this spot would cause water to flood the lower node where the transfer students were heading.
Swiftly, stealthily, before the teachers could intervene.