Chapter 32 – Heroes Abandon Reality

The space before my eyes was unmistakably my room in reality, though it looked dreary as if a gray filter had been applied due to the fine dust that had settled everywhere.

A 3-million-won mattress I had bought after seeing good reviews, clothes carelessly thrown on the floor despite costing quite a bit, and a small plate with sauce still on it from a meal I hadn’t cleaned up.

The realization that I had truly returned hit me when I saw my room, eerily identical to how it was before I was dragged into the dungeon.

“Today’s date is…”

I tried to turn on my phone lying on the bed, but it seemed to be discharged, so I plugged it into the charger and held down the power button. The familiar boot-up melody played, and the lock pattern screen with a background photo taken during a trip lit up, welcoming me.

July 31, 2025.

I saw the DunGal Pack download link on a featured post on the 18th, so one… two…

Not having looked at a calendar for so long made my sense of dates awkward. I wonder if my day-night cycle is also distorted, which would be troublesome.

“Exactly two weeks… This crazy… inflexible bastard..!”

Isn’t it common sense that if you forcibly conscript someone, you shouldn’t let real-world time flow?

No, there are places in reality too where they forcibly conscript you and don’t pause your life for 18 months, so I decided to just accept it.

“Wow…”

More terrifying than that was the amount of missed calls, texts, and KakaoTalk messages piled up, which made me habitually scratch the back of my head.

To be precise, one particular call among the horrifically accumulated ones was more frightening than the others.

July 25, 2025

Professor (3) 12:00 PM

Missed Call

“…I’m taking a leave of absence.”

I’m fucked.

***

I decided to throw away the rags that could no longer be used, wash my extremely grimy body, and start a major cleaning session.

I wanted to collapse on the bed and pass out, but I didn’t want to inhale old dust and develop asthma.

I’m fairly certain that those underground sewers would be better for my bronchial tubes than here. Or maybe not.

SHHHH—

As the warm water pouring from the shower hose hit me, the tension in my muscles throughout my body eased, making me feel languid, and the hardships of the past two weeks felt like a dream.

I roughly wiped the steam-covered mirror with my hand.

With a squeaking sound, the surface cleared up, only for water droplets to form again, and my image was reflected hazily like an afterimage.

The large scabbed wound on my shoulder, the scar on my thigh, and other various cuts and tear-like scars.

Each of those scars pulled my mood from fantasy back to reality, confirming that everything I experienced was real.

The continuous bloody battles where flesh trembled.

I never had a moment of peace while facing beasts with large, yellowed front teeth aiming for my neck.

An ordinary person would have been traumatized beyond recovery.

‘But why am I not affected at all?’

What one might call emotions, feelings, or heart is as calm as a sea without a breath of wind.

The strongest thought that comes to mind is at most, “What should I do about these scars if I can’t find a healing spring? Should I cover them with tattoos?”

“Was I always this iron-hearted?”

Is this another cute little trick that guy 112.311 has done to my body?

Despite saying he would tell me, he didn’t properly teach me anything. I thought about just going AWOL, but in the end, I would be the one getting hurt and dying.

It was an unfair contract, to say the least.

Though it wasn’t even a contract to begin with.

I came out of the bathroom, dried my fluffy body, and opened the window wide for ventilation. The refreshing city air—a mix of fine dust and exhaust fumes—was quite welcome.

And so the major cleaning began.

If there was something I overlooked, it was that even just standing still made me sweat on this scorching summer day.

In the end, only after finishing the cleaning and taking another shower could I finally address the backlog of tasks one by one.

“Yeah. Minwoo, I’m returning your call. Yeah. Yeah.”

“Yes, senior. It’s Yuhyun. Ah, yes. There were circumstances…”

“Ah! Professor! Have you eaten?”

…

…

…

A relay of calls lasting a full three hours. Every single one started with “Where the hell have you been that you couldn’t be contacted?” which drained me so much I felt like a mummified corpse.

Somehow I glossed over the reason for my disappearance, saying I was on an outback expedition for self-reflection and might be out of contact for a while, which led to an excruciating silence filled with pity, like when seeing someone who’s mentally disturbed.

You anonymous bastard. I’ll make you pay for this dearly.

“Sigh…”

With the chair’s backrest squeaking as I leaned back forcefully, my vision spun around.

If what he said was true, I had one week.

Looking at the calendar to check the date, it would mean I’d be dragged back into the world of Dive Dungeon on August 7th.

‘He wouldn’t have given me a week just to relax.’

Resting comfortably and maintaining peak condition is important.

However, spending a week purely on entertainment and wasting it seemed like a bad idea, even after about 0.3 seconds of consideration.

My gaze slowly turned toward the pile of broken armor stashed away in the corner and the backpack containing the onaholes I had been carrying around.

Come to think of it, since I brought what I had there to reality, if I have something in reality, wouldn’t I be able to have it there when I’m summoned back?

While it seemed like a very plausible thought, it was good news for me. As I had lost most of my equipment and consumables in defeating the King of the Sewers, supplies were all the more desperate for me.

However, there’s no way fantasy items like healing potions or Flame Storm scrolls would exist in reality, so what I could bring was limited.

Nevertheless, since I know the characteristics of the area starting from Floor 6 and what would be useful for survival, proper preparation might significantly lower the difficulty!

‘First, the essentials for a dungeon.’

Storage space. More storage space. Fucking large storage space.

When descending a dungeon, one is always pressured by capacity constraints, forcing choices.

If you only pick up what you immediately need, you might suddenly drop dead because you don’t have an item you absolutely need later. That’s what dungeons are like.

“A large backpack and…”

Additionally, antibiotics or a first aid kit would be a great help, even for me who has such good regeneration that even big wounds heal after a night’s sleep.

Blood clots quickly and wounds heal rapidly, but that doesn’t mean I’m free from the risks of disease or parasites.

Click- Click-

I grabbed a black pen rolling on the desk and started writing down what I would need in a notebook.

However, after just five minutes, it became densely packed with necessary items, so I had to fall into contemplation again.

“I need to bring the onaholes too… Weapons can go in holsters, but if equipment keeps breaking like this, I need to carry spares, which is problematic…”

Even the items I wrote down in just five minutes wouldn’t all fit into the largest backpack I had at home.

I thought I had written down only what was truly necessary…

I crossed out some of the items with lower priority.

Whiskey, vodka, and brandy for mental health that would deteriorate in the dungeon.

A rubber duck for baths, a portable game console for lonely nights, and a glow-in-the-dark dinosaur that I hadn’t thought of a use for but felt I should have.

Looking at the crossed-out items, I closed my mouth momentarily.

“Hmm… Am I very tired?”

I should sleep first.

***

The first thing I did after waking up was to organize and narrow down the items I had been listing yesterday.

Insect repellent, antibiotics, antiparasitics, stab-proof vests, lighters, oil, flashlights, knives, etc…

At least a much more practical supply list was completed compared to yesterday.

When I saw the Pororo computer written at the very end, I wondered if it wasn’t that I was fine yesterday, but that my brain was paralyzed from being on the verge of dying from fatigue.

“Now I just need to order what I don’t have.”

How much money do I have left in my account?

Thinking that if it’s not enough, I could sell my watch to a friend, I unconsciously muttered out of habit.

“Status.”

After saying it out loud, I laughed at myself, realizing I wasn’t fully awake yet.

Now that I’m back in reality, this isn’t a labyrinth, so there’s no way a status window would appear before my eyes.

Life in the dungeon had become too familiar—

WHOOSH—

===========================================

Name: aaaa

Level: 09

Health: 96/96 ■■■■■■■■■■

Magic: 48/48 ■■■■■■■■■■

Thirst: 105/110 ■■■■■■■■■■|■​

Temperature: ◁■■■■■□□□□□▶

Strength 11(+1) | Dexterity 15(+0) | Constitution 08(+1)

Mental 08(+0) | Perception 09(+1) | Charm 15(+2)

《Skills》

『Thief’s Luck』『Demon Nature』

『Battle Command』『』

『Hero I』

《Magic》

『Onahole Creation』Magic -25

===========================================​​​

“…Why is this appearing?”

I couldn’t hide my astonishment at the familiar array of text appearing before my eyes.

If something like a status window, which shouldn’t exist in reality, applies in reality, doesn’t that mean I could use magic or magical items too?

I quickly slid on my knees in a ceremonial manner to reach the backpack, opened it immediately, and took out the onaholes.

The mushy Slime.

Severa, flowing down like dry ice evaporating into the air.

The Wanderer, the most human-like among them.

I summoned the onaholes.

“This is your hometown…? Buildings and objects of a style I’ve never seen before… What am I looking at exactly?”

Severa, seemingly shocked by the sight of my house and the city outside the window, was muttering frantically.

And beside her, the Wanderer, who stayed motionless as if waiting for commands to be issued, and the Slime bouncing on the floor, who knocked over the cola I had put in a cup, stealing the drink its owner was about to consume.

“This actually works…”

I had serious doubts, but I could really summon the onaholes in reality too.

‘Do the stats apply as well?’

Despite having stats not far from the initial values, I wasn’t significantly outperformed by Albert, who was an experienced knight, so in the later stages, I might truly be worthy of being called superhuman.

I fell into thought for a moment, looking at the Slime gradually dyeing itself with the color of cola, and the Wanderer.

“I need to wash them first.”

This will be a tough battle.

Since Severa is a ghost and doesn’t need washing, I left her to continue exploring and pushed the Wanderer and the Slime into the bathroom.