SOLO LEVELING: THE DEVOURER A Fan-Made Solo Leveling Side Story

The first thing Darius Vex learned after becoming a Hunter was that money could purchase almost anything except respect.

It could buy enchanted armor forged from dungeon steel.

It could buy healing potions that low-rank Hunters saved for months to afford.

It could buy private combat instructors, Association-approved weapons, and enough political influence to make inconvenient questions disappear before they were ever asked.

It could not change the number printed beside his name.

E-Rank.

The weakest classification granted to a registered Hunter.

The rank of men and women who were barely stronger than ordinary civilians.

The rank guilds avoided unless they needed someone to carry equipment.

The rank most people associated with early retirement, crippling debt, or a short funeral.

Darius had received none of those things.

He had awakened at seventeen with a family fortune waiting behind him, his education secured, his future guaranteed, and a father who would have happily paid him never to step near another Gate.

Yet one year later, on a gray morning in Seoul, he stood beneath the glowing blue mouth of a dungeon with a secondhand sword strapped to his waist.

Rain tapped against the hood of his black jacket.

Association officials moved between portable barricades, confirming identities and checking equipment while a small crowd gathered beyond the safety line. A few civilians held their phones overhead, filming the Hunters as though the group were celebrities about to walk onto a red carpet instead of people preparing to enter another world.

Darius kept his hands inside his pockets.

He had learned that looking relaxed made people less likely to ask whether he was afraid.

He was.

He simply did not see the value in advertising it.

“Darius Vex?”

The woman behind the registration table looked at the name on her tablet, then looked up at him, then back down again.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Darius had seen the reaction often enough to recognize it.

Disbelief first.

Recognition second.

Confusion last.

“Yes,” he said.

She studied him more carefully. “The Darius Vex?”

“I’ve never met another one.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

“I know.”

The official lowered her voice. “Your father owns Vex Meridian.”

“He owns most of it.”

“And you’re registered as an E-Rank porter?”

“Temporary combat support.”

“That is a generous description.”

Darius smiled.

She did not.

The woman scrolled through his profile, her expression growing increasingly troubled.

“Three previous raids,” she said. “Two E-Rank Gates and one low D-Rank. Minor injuries each time. No offensive contribution recorded.”

“I carried supplies.”

“You carried three injured Hunters out of the second Gate.”

“They were lighter than the supplies.”

She finally looked amused, though only for a moment.

“Your insurance clearance is valid. Your equipment is approved.” Her attention shifted to the slim sword hanging at his hip. “That weapon is barely suitable for a goblin.”

“It was suitable for my budget.”

The woman stared at him.

Darius maintained a straight face for as long as he could.

She released a quiet breath. “Your budget.”

“I’m trying to remain humble.”

“You arrived in a car that costs more than this raid team will earn today.”

“That was the humble one.”

A laugh came from behind him.

It was deep, weathered, and entirely unapologetic.

“You’re either very brave,” the stranger said, “or rich enough that nobody has ever told you when a joke is terrible.”

Darius turned.

The man standing behind him was broad enough to make the registration tent appear smaller. He looked to be in his late thirties, with closely cropped hair, a scar cutting through one eyebrow, and a heavy steel shield resting against his back.

A C-Rank insignia was clipped near his shoulder.

The official straightened immediately.

“Captain Lee.”

“Relax, Min-Ji. I only came to see why you were interrogating my porter.”

“I’m not a porter,” Darius said.

Captain Lee Han-Seok glanced at the cheap sword on his waist.

“You’re holding a sword, which means you can be promoted to distraction if necessary.”

“Is that better?”

“For the rest of us.”

The captain extended a hand.

“Lee Han-Seok. Raid leader.”

Darius accepted it. The man’s grip was strong but controlled.

“Darius.”

“I gathered that. Hard name to miss lately.”

Darius’s expression remained calm, though something inside him tightened.

Captain Lee noticed.

“You don’t like the attention.”

“I don’t mind attention when I’ve earned it.”

“And you don’t think being born rich counts?”

“Do you?”

Captain Lee considered the answer instead of laughing.

“No.”

“Then we agree.”

The captain released his hand and looked him over from head to toe.

Darius stood just over six feet, lean rather than muscular, with dark hair that fell in loose, uneven strands over his forehead. His face still carried the softness of youth, but the tiredness around his eyes made him seem older whenever he stopped smiling.

“You really want to go inside?” Captain Lee asked.

“I signed the forms.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

Darius glanced past him.

The Gate hung twenty yards away, suspended between two abandoned warehouse buildings. Its surface moved like blue fire trapped beneath water, casting cold light over the wet pavement.

Every time Darius looked at one, he felt the same strange pull.

Not courage.

Not ambition.

Recognition.

It was as if some buried part of him understood the Gate more deeply than his conscious mind did.

“I want to go,” he said.

Captain Lee watched him for a long moment.

“Why?”

There were easier answers.

Experience.

Pride.

A desire to prove himself.

None of them felt entirely true.

“Because I hate not knowing whether I’m weak because of my rank or because I accepted what everyone told me.”

Captain Lee’s expression changed.

Only slightly.

Enough for Darius to see the humor leave his eyes.

“That kind of thinking gets people killed.”

“So does assuming I can never become anything else.”

“You can’t train your mana higher.”

“I know.”

“A Hunter’s power is fixed at Awakening.”

“I know.”

“Then what exactly are you expecting to find in there?”

Darius looked toward the Gate again.

“I don’t know.”

That was the truth.

It was also the reason he kept returning.

Captain Lee sighed.

“Stay behind my shield. You follow every order immediately. No heroic decisions, no trying to prove yourself, and no wandering away because the rocks look interesting.”

“I don’t find rocks interesting.”

“You’re a billionaire’s son who enters dungeons for free. I don’t know what you find interesting.”

Before Darius could answer, a young man near the equipment crates called out.

“Captain! Are we seriously bringing him?”

The speaker was tall and athletic, with reddish-brown hair tied behind his head and a polished longsword resting on one shoulder. The insignia on his jacket identified him as a D-Rank.

Two other Hunters stood beside him.

One was a slender woman in pale gray robes carrying a short healer’s staff. The other was an older man wearing leather armor and holding a compact crossbow.

Captain Lee turned.

“Something wrong, Seong-Min?”

The swordsman looked openly at Darius.

“Nothing personal, but the Gate was reevaluated this morning. Upper D-Rank. We don’t need someone slowing us down.”

“I can hear you,” Darius said.

“That saves me from repeating it.”

The healer grimaced. “Seong-Min.”

“What? Everyone’s thinking it.”

“I wasn’t,” the crossbowman said.

“You complain about everyone.”

“I complain silently. It’s more dignified.”

Captain Lee stepped between them.

“Darius has been on three raids. He knows how to follow formation, and we need another person carrying reserve equipment.”

The swordsman scoffed. “So he is a porter.”

“Temporary combat support,” Darius corrected.

The healer covered a smile with one hand.

Seong-Min shook his head. “This isn’t some private training room. His family can’t buy their way out if something happens in there.”

Darius met his stare.

“My family didn’t buy my place.”

“No? Then why are you here?”

“Because someone accepted my application.”

Seong-Min glanced toward Captain Lee.

The captain crossed his arms. “Because I needed one more body and he had the required experience.”

“That supposed to make me feel better?”

“No. It’s supposed to remind you that I decide who joins my raid.”

The challenge ended there.

Seong-Min looked away first.

Captain Lee clapped his hands once.

“Final check. We enter in five minutes.”

The raid party began gathering near the Gate.

Eleven Hunters in total.

Captain Lee served as the main tank.

Seong-Min and a quiet swordswoman named Yu Na-Ri formed the principal damage line. The older crossbowman, Park Dae-Hyun, provided ranged support. The healer, Han Mi-Ra, was the only person responsible for keeping the entire group alive.

The rest were low D-Rank fighters, two mages, and Darius.

The weakest member by a considerable margin.

Darius adjusted the straps on his supply pack while the Association official approached Captain Lee.

“Mana readings are stable,” she said. “The estimated dungeon type is subterranean ruins. Primary monsters are believed to be rock goblins and cave hounds. Boss classification is unknown, but projected to be no higher than D-Rank.”

“Extraction window?”

“Six hours before the first status check. Twelve before an emergency team is placed on standby.”

Captain Lee frowned. “Twelve?”

“Personnel shortage. Three Gates opened in the northern district overnight.”

The captain muttered something under his breath.

Darius did not catch the words, but he understood the look.

The Hunter Association did not possess enough high-ranking Hunters to guard every Gate or rescue every failed raid. Even in a wealthy city, survival often came down to which emergency was considered most important.

Captain Lee turned to the team.

“You heard her. Nobody gets careless because the classification is low. We clear the route, identify the boss chamber, recover what we can, and get out together.”

Seong-Min rested his hand on his sword.

“Simple.”

“Nothing inside a Gate is simple.”

Captain Lee stepped toward the portal.

One by one, the Hunters followed.

Darius remained at the back.

Just before crossing, he heard someone call his name.

“Darius!”

He turned.

A man in a charcoal suit stood beyond the barricade, breathing heavily as if he had run from the parking area. His hair was silver at the temples, his posture rigid, and his tailored clothing looked entirely out of place among the Association tents and armored Hunters.

Elias Ward.

His father’s chief of security.

He had been with the Vex family since before Darius was born.

Elias stopped at the barricade.

“You ignored four calls.”

“My phone is in the car.”

“Your father told you not to come.”

“My father tells senators what to do. It doesn’t always work on me.”

“This is not funny.”

Darius’s expression softened.

Elias had never been good at hiding fear. It appeared as anger in his voice and tension around his mouth.

“I’ll be back before dinner.”

“You cannot promise that.”

“No.”

Darius looked toward the Gate.

“But I intend to keep it.”

Elias gripped the barricade.

“You have nothing to prove.”

“That’s not true.”

“To whom?”

Darius paused.

“Myself.”

He turned before Elias could answer and stepped through the Gate.

Cold swallowed him.

For one disorienting second, there was no ground beneath his feet and no air in his lungs.

Then his boots struck stone.

The city vanished.

Rain, traffic, voices, and daylight disappeared behind him.

Darius stood inside a vast tunnel carved from black rock.

Blue crystals protruded from the walls in jagged clusters, their glow revealing broken pillars, ancient masonry, and a path descending into darkness.

The air smelled of wet stone and something metallic.

Blood, perhaps.

The other Hunters materialized around him.

Captain Lee counted them twice.

“Eleven. Everyone made it.”

The portal hovered behind them, a silent oval of blue light.

Mi-Ra rubbed her arms. “It’s colder than the reading suggested.”

Dae-Hyun raised his crossbow and peered down the tunnel.

“Smells wrong too.”

Seong-Min drew his sword. “You say that in every dungeon.”

“And I’ve survived every dungeon.”

“Through skill?”

“Through suspicion.”

Captain Lee moved to the front.

“Na-Ri, right side. Seong-Min, left. Dae-Hyun, watch the rear. Darius stays in the center beside Mi-Ra.”

“I don’t need protection,” Mi-Ra said.

“It isn’t for you.”

Darius lifted a hand. “I appreciate the honesty.”

They began moving.

Their boots echoed against the stone.

The first ten minutes passed without incident.

The tunnel widened into a ruined passage supported by cracked columns. Faded carvings covered the walls—figures with elongated limbs gathered around a circular mouth filled with sharp teeth.

Darius slowed.

Something about the image made his stomach tighten.

Not disgust.

Hunger.

He stared at the carving until Mi-Ra lightly tapped his arm with her staff.

“Captain said no interesting rocks.”

“I said rocks weren’t interesting.”

“Then why are you staring at one?”

“It looks familiar.”

She followed his gaze.

“To what?”

Darius opened his mouth.

Nothing came.

The image did not resemble any symbol he knew.

Yet he could not shake the impression that he had seen it before, perhaps in a dream forgotten the moment he woke.

“I’m not sure.”

Mi-Ra studied his face.

“Are you feeling sick?”

“No.”

“You went pale.”

“I’m naturally expensive-looking.”

She stared at him.

“That joke was terrible.”

“Captain Lee said the same thing.”

“Then it’s officially confirmed.”

The exchange helped.

For several minutes, the unease faded.

Then Captain Lee stopped.

Everyone behind him froze.

He lowered himself beside the ground.

Claw marks crossed the stone.

Fresh ones.

Dae-Hyun moved forward and crouched beside him.

“Cave hounds.”

“How many?” Seong-Min asked.

“Hard to tell.”

“Guess.”

Dae-Hyun touched the edge of one track.

“More than eight.”

A low scraping sound came from the darkness ahead.

Weapons rose.

Mi-Ra whispered a short incantation, and pale light gathered around the tip of her staff.

Darius drew his sword.

The weapon felt thin and inadequate in his hand.

He had practiced hundreds of strikes in private training halls. None of them had ever involved an enemy capable of biting through bone.

A pair of crimson eyes appeared in the tunnel.

Then another.

Then six more.

The first cave hound emerged into the crystal light.

It was larger than a wolf, with gray skin stretched tightly over a narrow frame. Black spines protruded from its shoulders, and strings of saliva hung from teeth shaped like broken glass.

A second creature stepped beside it.

Then a third.

Ten in total.

Captain Lee raised his shield.

“Standard formation. Let them hit the front.”

The hounds growled.

Their bodies lowered.

Darius felt his pulse quicken.

He had seen dungeon creatures before.

These were different.

They were not looking at the group.

They were looking at him.

All ten.

Their red eyes fixed on Darius with an intensity that made the tunnel feel narrower.

Seong-Min noticed.

“Looks like they found the weakest one.”

Captain Lee shifted his stance.

“Darius, behind me.”

Darius stepped back.

The hounds did not advance.

One released a sharp, uncertain whine.

Another bared its teeth, but its ears folded against its head.

Dae-Hyun’s voice dropped.

“That’s strange.”

“What?” Mi-Ra asked.

“They’re afraid.”

Seong-Min laughed once. “Of us?”

“No.”

Dae-Hyun looked at Darius.

“Of him.”

The largest hound took one slow step forward.

Darius tightened his grip on the sword.

The creature moved closer.

Ten feet.

Eight.

Five.

Captain Lee prepared to strike.

The hound suddenly stopped.

Its nose twitched.

Its eyes widened.

Then its entire body began trembling.

Not with aggression.

With terror.

A thin sound escaped its throat.

It lowered itself to the ground, almost flattening its body against the stone, while staring up at Darius as if it had encountered something impossible.

Darius felt every person in the raid watching him.

“I’m not doing anything,” he said.

The hound abruptly turned.

It fled into the darkness.

The other nine followed without hesitation.

Within seconds, the tunnel was empty again.

No attack.

No battle.

Only retreating claws and stunned silence.

Seong-Min slowly lowered his sword.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“You expect us to believe that?”

“I’m as confused as you are.”

Dae-Hyun remained focused on the darkness.

“Monsters don’t run from prey.”

Mi-Ra looked at Darius.

“Maybe they didn’t think he was prey.”

The words settled over the group.

Darius’s skin prickled.

Captain Lee broke the silence.

“We move.”

Seong-Min turned toward him. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“You’re not going to ask why ten dungeon beasts just bowed to an E-Rank?”

“I’m going to remember that we’re still standing in a dungeon.”

The captain looked directly at Darius.

“We discuss it after we survive.”

The group continued.

But the formation had changed in a way no spoken order could hide.

Hunters who had previously ignored Darius now watched him.

Some with curiosity.

Some with suspicion.

One with fear.

Darius felt none of those things.

He felt the carving in the wall lingering inside his mind.

A circle.

A mouth.

Rows of teeth.

And beneath everything else, something he had not felt when the cave hounds appeared.

Disappointment.

The emotion was not his.

It came from somewhere deeper.

Somewhere beneath thought.

Somewhere that seemed to have been sleeping inside him his entire life.

Hours passed.

The dungeon grew increasingly unnatural.

They found clawed footprints around abandoned monster nests, yet no creatures attacked them.

A group of rock goblins spotted the raid from an upper ledge, raised their weapons, and immediately scattered after seeing Darius in the center.

Later, a heavily armored beast nearly twice Captain Lee’s size emerged from behind a collapsed wall. It roared at the frontline, charged three steps, then stopped so violently its claws carved trenches into the floor.

Its eyes landed on Darius.

The roar died in its throat.

The creature retreated without turning its back.

By the third encounter, nobody made jokes.

By the fourth, Seong-Min refused to stand near him.

“This isn’t natural,” the swordsman muttered.

Darius adjusted the weight of his supply pack.

“Nothing in here is natural.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No. I don’t.”

“You’re hiding something.”

“If I had a power capable of frightening every monster in a dungeon, do you think I would have spent the last year being called the wealthiest pack mule in Korea?”

Seong-Min’s jaw tightened.

“Maybe you enjoy attention.”

“Then I chose an extremely humiliating method of getting it.”

Na-Ri, who rarely spoke, glanced back from the front.

“He’s telling the truth.”

Seong-Min frowned. “You know that how?”

“Because frightened people lie differently.”

Darius looked at her.

“You think I’m frightened?”

“I think you’re trying not to be.”

She faced forward again.

He could not argue.

Near the fourth hour, they reached a massive underground chamber.

Broken statues lined the walls.

Each depicted a kneeling creature with its hands pressed against its stomach.

At the far end stood two stone doors covered in the same circular-mouth symbol Darius had seen earlier.

Captain Lee studied the room.

“Boss chamber.”

Dae-Hyun examined the dust near the entrance.

“Tracks everywhere.”

“Recent?”

“Very.”

Mi-Ra raised her staff.

“Then where are they?”

Nobody answered.

Darius looked toward the statues.

Every carved face had been deliberately destroyed.

Not by age.

By claws.

The monsters had attacked these images.

Repeatedly.

Desperately.

Captain Lee ordered the team to rest before opening the doors.

Hunters drank water, checked weapons, and shared the last few jokes people used when they were afraid of what came next.

Darius sat apart from them.

He stared at his hands.

The rank assessment had identified almost no usable mana inside his body. His physical strength was only marginally above that of an ordinary eighteen-year-old. He possessed no enhanced senses, no elemental affinity, no summoning talent, and no healing ability.

Yet monsters were running from him.

Not avoiding.

Running.

A shadow fell over him.

Captain Lee lowered himself onto a broken piece of stone.

“You’re thinking too loudly.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly.”

Darius looked toward the boss doors.

“Do you think I’m dangerous?”

Captain Lee took his time answering.

“I think danger is usually easier to recognize.”

“That isn’t comforting.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

The captain removed one glove and rubbed the scar above his eyebrow.

“My first raid leader was a B-Rank. Strongest man I’d ever met. He walked into every dungeon like he owned it.”

“What happened?”

“An E-Rank goblin drove a rusted blade through his throat because he stopped looking at weak things.”

Darius glanced at him.

“That story has a point?”

“Several.”

“Which one are you using?”

Captain Lee smiled faintly.

“Rank is useful. It isn’t truth.”

Darius looked down at the E-Rank badge attached to his jacket.

“The Association would disagree.”

“The Association needs categories. Categories make people feel like the world is understandable.”

“And you don’t?”

“I’ve spent twelve years walking through doors into places that shouldn’t exist. I stopped expecting the world to explain itself.”

The chamber remained quiet around them.

After a moment, Darius asked, “Why did you accept me?”

“I told you. We needed another body.”

“That was the practical answer.”

Captain Lee leaned back.

“You want the honest one?”

“Yes.”

“I saw the report from your second raid.”

Darius said nothing.

“You carried three wounded Hunters nearly two kilometers while the rest of the team held off a goblin pack.”

“They would have died.”

“You had a fractured wrist.”

“I had another one.”

Captain Lee gave him a sideways look.

“Most E-Ranks would have run.”

“I considered it.”

“But you didn’t.”

Darius stared at the dark line between the stone doors.

“Maybe I was too afraid to decide.”

“Courage usually feels like that.”

A horn sounded somewhere beyond the boss chamber.

Low.

Distant.

Ancient.

Every Hunter rose.

The blue crystals flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Then went dark.

Mi-Ra’s light spell became the only illumination in the chamber.

“What was that?” she whispered.

Darius stood slowly.

His heartbeat had stopped racing.

For one impossible second, all fear vanished.

A voice brushed against the inside of his mind.

Faint enough to mistake for imagination.

Old enough to make his bones feel young.

Hungry.

Darius turned sharply.

“Did anyone hear that?”

Captain Lee drew his sword.

“The horn?”

“No.”

Darius searched the darkness.

There was nothing there.

Yet the presence inside him remained.

Waiting.

The stone doors groaned.

Dust fell from the ceiling.

A thin line of crimson light appeared between them.

The dungeon trembled.

And somewhere far beyond the Gate, beneath layers of Association servers and sealed archives, a forgotten monitoring system activated for the first time in decades.

A black screen illuminated inside a locked room.

Ancient symbols appeared across it.

Then one line of translated text.

THE VESSEL HAS ENTERED.

Back inside the dungeon, Darius stared at the opening doors.

He did not understand why the monsters feared him.

He did not understand the voice.

He did not understand why the symbol carved across the doors made his empty stomach twist with longing.

But as crimson light spilled across his face, he understood one thing with absolute certainty.

This dungeon had not been waiting for the raid team.

It had been waiting for him.

And whatever lay beyond those doors already knew his name.

END OF CHAPTER 1