In the third year since the era of national-fortune dungeons began, the combat styles of eligible participants around the world are steadily converging: more overbearing supernatural abilities, more precise tactics, and more complete annihilation. Taking this as their standard, the nations send wave after wave into haunted sites, while ever-rising death tolls redefine the meaning of “the price.”
Chen Mo, however, is someone this standard has forgotten.
The profession he received was [War Correspondent]. It came with just one skill: while he is recording, monsters cannot treat him as their primary target. His equipment consists of an expired press pass and a recorder that cannot be broken, no matter how many times it is dropped.
In everyone else's eyes, it's junk.
But Chen Mo doesn't see it that way. He was once a real war correspondent, chasing stories through artillery fire and hearing people cry amid the ruins. More than anyone, he knows that this profession's most terrifying ability has never been attack. It's asking questions.
While eligible participants from other nations fight Wraiths with supernatural abilities and sheer obsession, he enters the dungeon, sits across from a ghost, and presses record. He doesn't ask how to destroy it. He asks: What happened to you before you died? Do you want someone to hear you? Is there anything you want to leave behind for this world?
And so, one obsession after another fades away before him. Not because it was slain, but because it was understood.
Chen Mo has no intention of becoming a hero. He's simply going back to being a reporter. But the times no longer allow him to quietly report the news, and powers across the globe are beginning to watch the man who changes the rules by asking questions.
“They use weapons to deal with dungeons. I make sure the truth is seen.”
