Sung Woo-Ji barely had ti to register what was happening before Volk's twisted form erged from the ground, his facial features distorted in unnatural ways.
The Orc leader's eyes glead with a sinister light, and his lips twisted into a grotesque smile. "Interesting... a system," Volk muttered, his voice dripping with malice.
Before Sung Woo-Ji could even react, the grip around his ankle tightened, the massive green hand holding him in place. But then it grew.
The hand expanded, grotesquely swelling in size until it was no longer just gripping his leg.
Half of Sung Woo-Ji's body was now encased in the Orc's oversized hand, the pressure mounting with each passing second.
Volk's grin widened. His voice thundered with malevolent glee. "I'LL CRUSH YOU!"
Sung Woo-Ji gasped, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on him as Volk's hand tightened, the air squeezed from his lungs.
It was as though the very life was being wrung from his body.
His bones creaked under the strain, and a sharp pain shot through his ribs. But before the hand could crush him entirely, sothing shifted.
CRACK!
Bone ribs—sharp, jagged, and eerily familiar—suddenly encased Sung Woo-Ji, springing from his own body like a second skin.
They wrapped around him in a protective cocoon, halting Volk's crushing grip for a mont.
The Orc leader paused, his eyes narrowing at the unexpected resistance. Then, his twisted grin returned.
"BONY MAIN CHARACTER, I'LL CRUSH!" Volk roared, his voice shaking the earth beneath them.
With a deafening crack, Volk's fingers tightened once more, his imnse strength overwhelming the protective bones.
The ribs began to crumble, shattering piece by piece under the imnse pressure. Sung Woo-Ji could feel them breaking, the defensive layer splintering like brittle wood. And then, with a final crunch, the bone barrier disintegrated entirely, leaving him exposed.
Volk's hand gripped tighter.
The pain was unbearable now, searing through Sung Woo-Ji's body like fire.
His chest heaved, trying desperately to pull in air, but the crushing force made it impossible.
His vision blurred at the edges, the world around him seed to darken.
The sensation of hopelessness gnawed at his mind.
It was happening too fast—everything was happening too fast.
His thoughts raced, yet they couldn't catch up with the terror unfolding around him.
He felt the fear crawling up his spine, spreading like ice through his veins.
Was this terror?
He had faced death before, but this... this was different.
This was overwhelming, a force too great to resist.
Should he give up now?
Was there any point in fighting anymore?
For a brief mont, his mind wandered back to who he once was.
He rembered the days when he was nothing more than an E-rank hunter, the weakest of them all.
Back then, he wasn't even considered a hunter by most standards. He was just a boy trying to survive, trying to provide for his sick mother.
Those days were filled with endless struggle—days spent scavenging, barely scraping by in the underbelly of the hunting world.
He had been so weak. So helpless.
He had signed up for low-level dungeons, not because he believed he could contribute, but because he needed the money to pay for his mother's dicine.
Every ti he faced a monster, his hands would tremble.
His heart would pound so loudly in his chest that it drowned out every other sound.
He wasn't like the other hunters—those confident warriors who seed born to fight. He was just a scared kid, fumbling with a rusty sword.
And then, there was that day. The day he almost died.
It was supposed to be a low-risk dungeon, but instead, he found himself in the heart of a dragon's tomb.
The air had been thick with ancient magic, and he had stumbled upon sothing he shouldn't have—a trap left by the dragon that nearly killed him. But instead of death, sothing else happened.
Sothing impossible.
He had survived, barely, and when he awoke, the System was there.
It spoke to him, offering him power, offering him a way to escape his fate.
From that mont, everything changed.
He completed quests, defeated monsters, and grew stronger.
He learned how to use the System, mastering the art of necromancy, turning his fallen enemies into undead servants. His rise was swift, but not without hardship.
The struggle never ended.
He fought through dungeons, through endless waves of monsters, each one more powerful than the last.
He rembered the raid on Jedunzo Island—a turning point in his life.
There, he had faced an entire horde of creatures, leading a team of hunters and showcasing his newfound abilities.
His command over death had made him a force to be reckoned with.
That raid had earned him respect.
It had lifted him from the bottom of the ranks, propelling him to the status of an elite C-ranker.
He had clawed his way up, fighting tooth and nail for every bit of power he now possessed. But now, as the Orc horde Leader's hand squeezed tighter, he wondered:
Was it all for nothing?
Is this terror?
Is this the end?
Should he give up now?
The crushing pressure intensified, and Sung Woo-Ji's thoughts beca hazy.
He could barely think.
The pain was too much. But deep inside, sothing stirred.
A flicker of anger.
Of defiance.
"No..." Sung Woo-Ji's voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed in his mind, louder than the roar of Volk's rage. "No, I won't give up now."
Yes, why would he give up!
He understood now.
Even with a system in his hands, he must do everything to win.
Son Woo-Ji accepted to himself that he beca arrogant!
He is not the strongest of them all yet, so why should be arrogant!
"Noooo!" He said with anger.
The words repeated in his head, growing stronger, more forceful.
He had co too far, fought too hard, survived too many impossible battles to die here.
He wasn't the weak E-rank hunter anymore.
He wasn't the scared boy who cowered in the face of danger.
He was Sung Woo-Ji, a necromancer, a warrior who had faced death and co back stronger every ti.
He clenched his fists, his body trembling with both pain and newfound determination. But as the anger and resolve surged within him, Volk's grip only tightened further, squeezing him with inhuman strength.
The pain was unbearable, his bones creaking under the pressure, threatening to snap.
Yet, he swore.
Song Woo-Ji swore in his head that he will make this Orc horde Leader one his undead army!
YEEES!!
However, as he thought of this.
Crack!
Sung Woo-Ji gasped, feeling his ribs shift unnaturally.
The air was squeezed from his lungs, and his vision began to blur again. His resolve faltered for just a mont as the reality of the situation set in.
He was powerless.
He had no more tricks, no more magic.
His mana reserves were depleted.
The Death Knight form had already drained him of everything.
And now, Volk was crushing him.
It was over.
The grip tightened one last ti, and Sung Woo-Ji's body buckled under the pressure. His mind went blank.
No thoughts, no emotions—just the cold, crushing sensation of death wrapping around him like a suffocating shroud.
In the final mont, everything faded to black.
Kabam!
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