Angola, Southern Africa.

A child was born the seventh in an ordinary family. Despite their modest means, the couple never lost their smiles while raising their many children. Though days were filled with hunger, the siblings, following their parents' example, laughed without a single complaint. The child lived happily, cared for by its parents and siblings.

'Then one day, the neighboring village was engulfed in civil war. The villagers trembled in fear but hesitated to leave their homes. This couple, however, possessed an extraordinary will to act. Soon, the order came for the child to pack.'

'That night, amidst a hail of bullets, screams, and soaring flames, they escaped their hometown.'

'Had they left a moment later, it would have been a disaster. Held in their mother's arms, the youngest child watched endlessly as their home burned. Now wanderers, they moved from village to village.'

'But in such a harsh world, the villagers hardly looked kindly upon new refugees who appeared with seven children. They built a shack a short distance away, but while the couple was out begging for food, the villagers came and tore it down. Eventually, they were forced to search for another village.'

'They wandered through six different towns. In some, the people showed open hostility, just as before; from others, they had to flee monster attacks. The first child, who had walked silently even under the scorching sun, collapsed and died. Weeping with sorrow, the parents dug into the earth and buried their firstborn with their own hands. It was the first time the seventh child had ever seen them cry.'

'The second child died of disease. Strange red spots had appeared all over its body, and after whimpering through the night, it finally stopped moving. The parents buried the second child in the dirt patch where they slept.'

'They crossed the border, where soldiers were everywhere. The seventh child heard the word "refugee" until it was branded onto his soul. Armed soldiers tormented them. In front of their children, the couple was forced to the ground for a humiliating body search. The third child starved to death. By then, the couple no longer cried.'

' Lizardmen attacked. The father threw his dying fourth child to them. While the Lizardmen devoured their fourth, the rest of the family fled.'

' They arrived in a sprawling city. Men in turbans approached and chained the fifth child's arm. In return, the couple received a few bills and a piece of bread. They never saw their fifth child again. The couple then pointed at the child, haggling over a price, but the men in turbans merely glanced at his frail body and shook their heads.'

' The seventh child and his sixth sibling were put to work on the streets, forced to lie on the ground and beg for coins all day. Then a strange homeless man approached. He started a fight with the sixth child, and in the chaos, he was stabbed. The man stuffed the money from their basket into his pocket and left. The seventh child dug a grave for his last surviving sibling.'

' A great fire engulfed the city. A rebel attack, they said. Tanks rolled in, and soldiers shot people indiscriminately. His mother told him to run, to keep walking until he reached a safe village. The last thing the seventh child saw as he fled was his parents collapsing, vomiting blood.'

' He left the city and walked. He was alone now. He walked and walked, endlessly, searching for a safe village. But there was no safe place in this world. The seventh child knew that.'

' He was hungry. His stomach felt fused to his spine. His cheeks were hollow, his ribs jutting out like a grotesque cage. On the road, he met merchants on camels. Seeing the starving child, they picked a mushroom from beneath a tree, washed it, and gave it to him. The child ate it as the merchants snickered.'

' His body began to swell. Pustules erupted from his skin like tumors. He no longer looked like a person, but more like a cluster of frog's eggs.'

' He had to get to a safe village. He was hungry. So hungry he thought he would die. He wanted meat. Meat.'

' The child finally collapsed under the blazing sun, his strength gone. Slowly, his eyelids closed.'

"Are you hungry?"

He heard a voice. The child lifted his head. The sun had vanished, replaced by pitch-black darkness. Wailing spirits soared across the sky.

"Do you not resent it all?" the voice asked. "If you want meat, then eat. If you need a safe home, then take it."

In the hallucination, he saw a hand reaching out.

"Here. Take my hand."

* * *

I opened my eyes, a torrent of memories flooding my mind. I was in a pure white, empty space. There was a floor, at least, solid beneath my feet. 'What was that memory…'

I shook my head, trying to dispel the throbbing pain. Along with the memories, the child's emotions had been transmitted to me, raw and unfiltered. My mind reeled with torment and despair. I forced myself to regain my composure. First, I needed to figure out where I was. I took a step forward.

'Splish.'

…Huh?

In a space that had been nothing but white, my boots were now splattered with blood. The moment I registered what was at my feet, the world transformed.

"Urp!"

A wave of nausea hit me. My surroundings warped into a crimson hellscape of muscle tissue. And everywhere, there were faces—the child's faces. A face with eyes sealed shut, a face with a torn mouth, a melting face, a face with grotesquely large ears. Countless versions of the child were embedded in the walls of muscle, writhing. 'Ea! Are you seeing this? This is…'

-This is a dungeon not registered in the Magic Tower's database. There are no similar cases. In other words…

'An Earth-originated dungeon.'

This place was born from the suffering of this world, entirely separate from the Overlay phenomenon. Just then, the surrounding faces snapped their eyes open.

"Meat. Meat. Meat. Meat. Meat. Meat."

Their voices were a chorus of desperate craving, a thirst so profound it was palpable. It felt as though they would attack at any moment, but strangely, they remained still.

"You called me here."

I see. I hadn't invaded this dungeon. The child had invited me, willingly showing me its memories. I looked at the source of it all—a colossal Disaster born from the famines of Africa, and a living hell was created when a Disaster made contact with the child dying of hunger.

'…I get it now.'

This child, now a Disaster, had created the monsters. The legion commanders, the centurion commanders, the company captains, all of them. The child was connected to every monster, and they all shared his extreme hunger, his insatiable craving for flesh.

They attacked humans, devoured them, and before they could even feel sated, vomited everything out to create living fields. Then, gripped by an infinite hunger once more, they would repeat the cycle. The monsters' ravenous appetites were a reflection of the child's own nature.

The living field was a manifestation of what the child had obsessed over in life: a "safe home." The monsters couldn't leave their territory. It wasn't a rule imposed by a restricted area, but an instinct inherited from the child. For him, all misfortune began the moment he was forced from his home. The monsters, too, instinctively feared leaving their own territory.

This was the true nature of the taves that had plunged Africa into a quagmire.

"Haaah." I let out a long sigh and looked straight at the faces.

"Meat. Meat. Meat. Meat. Meat. Meat."

They wailed in hunger, shedding tears of blood as their mouths gaped open. The sight was so horrific I could barely bear to look. The child was feeling the collective hunger of tens of millions of monsters. Its very existence was a monument to sorrow.

What the hell is this? By what right was this living hell unleashed upon our world?

Just then, the blood and flesh I'd stepped in began to dry rapidly. When I lifted my foot to a clear patch of ground, the face I had crushed instantly regenerated. Among the enormous, grotesque faces, this one looked particularly small and pitiful. While all the others cried out for meat, this one was different.

"Zni Na (I'm hungry)."

They were the last words Selegma had spoken. The same words I'd heard upon entering the dungeon. It was the language from the Labyrinth Dungeon, one whose phonetics I understood.

"GuozI Nail (Kill me)."

My eyes turned bloodshot. I couldn't take it anymore.

'Let's go, Ea.'

-Yes, Tower Master.

I laid a magic circle in the center of the dungeon's core and deployed four sub-circles to process the formulas. The calculations flowed smoothly. My focus was absolute. It was time to use the first fifth-order spell I had ever mastered.

<Death Rose>

As the magic took hold, a single rose, as red as blood, sprouted from the grotesque flesh. It was a flower that fed on biological energy. The moment it appeared, the rose began to grow at an incredible rate. Simultaneously, the children's wails for meat began to fade. The rose grew larger and larger. As if one wasn't enough, the magic circle expanded on its own, and a field of roses spread in all directions.

One by one, the child's multiple faces closed their eyes. The red roses bloomed, drinking in the unspeakable sorrow and despair. Soon, the entire hideous dungeon was covered in a blanket of crimson. Just how much life energy was contained in this place? The roses, having grown to their absolute limit, could no longer contain their overflowing power and burst, scattering their petals in every direction.

'Wow.'

The sight was simply breathtaking. Red petals exploded like fireworks, fluttering through the air, washing the world in a crimson tide. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the blooming roses, nourished by a disaster of such gruesome origins.

The cries for meat had ceased. All the faces had closed their eyes and vanished without a trace. Only the small, pitiful face below me remained.

"Joail La (Thank you)."

He was smiling.

[You have cleared the Disaster.]

[Analysis has reached Lv.7.]

[Magic has increased by 10.]

[Intelligence has increased by 10.]

[Focus has increased by 5.]

Player messages scrolled by, but for once, I paid them no mind. The child's smiling face was seared into my memory.

-Tower Master. Are you all right?

'Yeah.'

The Disaster was gone. The flesh, the faces—all of it. All that remained was this space, the dungeon's core. I had been somewhere like this once before, in the Labyrinth Dungeon. There, I had seized control and eliminated the demonkin who had become its master.

'Alright. Now to end this.'

* * *

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.