The moment he stepped through the dim violet veil of light, Long's entire world was overturned.
His stomach clenched violently, as if an invisible hand were wringing it dry.
"Urgh!"
He vomited uncontrollably, bitter gastric fluid splattering across the rough, gray stone floor. But the nausea was only the beginning. A horrifying itch erupted deep within his bones, spreading through every pore of his skin like millions of fire ants gnawing at him simultaneously.
Long collapsed, his thin hands clawing desperately at his pale flesh. He twisted, writhed, and rolled helplessly in the mess he had made.
"Aaagh… it burns… it's so damn itchy!!"
His scream broke into ragged, gasping breaths. After five agonizing minutes, the sensation finally subsided, leaving his body utterly drained.
Long lay sprawled on the ground, and only then did his senses begin to absorb the new reality.
The stench of damp decay, reminiscent of tombs forgotten for centuries, forced its way into his nostrils. The air reeked of sulfur, dried blood, and stagnant moss. Every breath felt heavy, as though he were inhaling fistfuls of ancient dust.
"What the hell… what kind of godforsaken place is this?" Long muttered, his voice trembling.
Reason tried to deny it, but his instincts whispered a mad truth. This was no hidden room. This was another world—a world his grandfather had kept veiled for fifteen years.
"Grandpa… how could you hide something like this?"
Fear suddenly crushed his heart. Long turned his head, staring at the massive stone gate behind him, where ancient runes flickered faintly within the narrow passage.
A horrifying thought flashed through his mind. What if I'm trapped here?
Like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline, Long lunged back toward the violet light, his hands scrambling desperately against the cold stone surface.
Shrrk!
The world twisted once more.
Long crashed onto the wooden floor of his basement. The nausea and itching surged back like a cursed refrain, but his stomach was empty, leaving only dry, painful retching.
He lay there, staring at the dark ceiling, his breathing slowly steadying. He wasn't dreaming. The gate was real. And it had accepted him.
"God damn it… I feel like absolute shit."
Long sprawled on the floor, his hollow gaze fixed on the old wooden beams above. His mind was a battlefield. Beneath his house lay a gate leading to some monstrous place. And more importantly, it had belonged to his grandfather.
"I can't ignore this anymore…"
He let out a long sigh, shedding his last hesitation. Long sat up, eyes drawn to the mesmerizing violet glow. Without a second thought, he stripped off his vomit-soaked jacket and tossed it aside.
Gripping the flashlight tightly, he plunged into the light once more. The writhing, worm-like sensation returned, though it felt slightly more tolerable this time.
"There's no way anyone could get used to this," he muttered.
Click.
The flashlight flicked on, its beam piercing the darkness to reveal a narrow corridor of stone walls. The passage was barely wide enough for a man to stretch his arms.
His small figure advanced deeper. With every step, the cold clung tighter to his body, a stark contrast to the summer heat of the world he had left behind.
"I already regret throwing that jacket away," he grumbled.
Thump… thump…
The rhythmic strike of his own heart was the only sound in the suffocating silence.
"How long have I been walking? Where does this even lead?"
Scenery repeated endlessly—gray stone, icy air, no sign of life. Monotony dulled his vigilance. His flashlight drooped toward the ground as his arm grew weary.
And at the exact moment his focus slipped, a warm, damp breath brushed across his face.
A rancid, putrid stench flooded his nose. Right beside his ear, a sound emerged.
"Khh… khh…"
Long jolted violently. The beam of light jerked upward, trembling. Under the dim yellow glow, a greenish face materialised.
A long, beak-like nose. Jagged, uneven teeth. Beast-like golden eyes locked onto him.
Long's entire body froze. It had appeared from a side passage he hadn't even noticed. They stood so close that Long could feel the heat of its rotting breath.
His mind went blank. The creature twisted its body and swung.
By instinct, Long raised his arm to block.
Slash!
Blood sprayed. The flashlight flew from his hand as several muscle fibers in his right forearm were severed. Fortunately, the blade was old and dull, unable to bite deep into the bone.
Sensing mortal danger, Long stumbled backward, but the green-skinned humanoid gave him no respite. It lunged again and again, slashing wildly in the darkness. Driven by pure survival instinct, Long retreated frantically until he lost his footing and fell.
The monster brought its blade down. Long kicked wildly, and by sheer luck, his foot struck the weapon's handle, knocking the knife into the shadows.
The creature was cunning. Its eyes immediately searched for the weapon. Long saw the intent. Summoning every ounce of strength, he kicked straight at its ankles, sending the creature crashing down onto him.
…
"Long? Where are you?"
The crimson glow of sunset bathed the towering figure of an old man with silver hair. Though well past seventy, Mr. Nam aged with a grace that even young men might envy. Time meant nothing to him. Only his beloved grandson mattered.
"I bought the cake already, my little bird. Come out and eat so you can grow strong."
Mr. Nam looked around, his ears twitching slightly.
"Huh? Crying… from the chicken coop?"
He rushed toward the sound. "LONG!! ARE YOU OKAY?!"
The sight left the old man shaken. His ten-year-old grandson, small and frail, was kneeling on the ground, sobbing beside the twisted corpse of a large dog.
"Hic… hic… I killed Lulu… I didn't mean to…" Long wailed. "It kept chasing the chickens… I grabbed it, and then… then it was just like that, Grandpa…"
…
Back in the present, the monster collapsed on top of Long.
He felt its warmth, its rough, rubbery skin. The stench was unbearable, but he no longer cared. Long wrapped his limbs tightly around it, desperate to keep it away from the knife.
But the result exceeded his intent.
His grip was so strong that the creature's bones began to shatter. The monster screamed in agony, thrashing wildly. In a final burst of instinct, it bit into Long's shoulder.
Long tightened his hold even further.
Crack!
The spine snapped. The neck gave way. Countless smaller bones shattered under a pressure no human boy should possess. Another existence left this world.
Long gasped for breath, his heart pounding against his ribs. Only now did the pain fully strike, surging through his wounded arm. He shoved the corpse aside and quickly bandaged his arm with strips torn from his clothing.
Then he picked up the flashlight and shone it on the creature.
"It really does look exactly like a goblin from those stories."
Killing a humanoid filled him with guilt, but he had grown up on a farm. Slaughtering livestock was nothing new to him.
"Huh?!"
A golden glint reflected from the goblin's loincloth. Long rummaged through it and pulled out a metallic golden orb.
"My grandson…"