Chapter 86

Chapter 86

Kieeeek!

Garam, which had been crying out mournfully, trembled and went limp.

It struggled to hold itself up on its four battered legs, then collapsed to the ground.

Thud!

Watching the whole scene, I clicked my tongue lightly.

“This is a bit unexpected.”

Hunting Garam, which hadn’t even entered Plus-tier, wasn’t difficult. But it was far more tenacious than I’d expected. Was it because it had seen the hatchling die? If I’d kept the hatchling alive and used it, the hunt might have gone easier.

After incapacitating Garam, I tried Brainwashing on it, just as I had with Nuri.

I figured I’d experiment with whether a Harmful-class Level 8 monster could be tamed.

At first, Garam resisted fiercely, but under repeated Brainwashing, it grew weaker and weaker.

Its resistance faded, and it began responding obediently to my messages. Just when I thought the taming was working, Garam’s eyes suddenly flashed and it lunged at me, exploding with killing intent.

Kyaaak!

But it was different from the Harmful-class Level 8 monsters I’d seen so far.

Its power was less refined, but the sheer magnitude of its wildly rampaging force was comparable to Nuri’s.

That phenomenon pointed to one thing.

“A monster undergoing an awakening.”

It was astonishing. For a brief moment, Garam had wielded power rivaling Plus-tier. With what I assumed was a gift—gravity manipulation—it had managed to throw me off, if only for an instant.

But in the end, it collapsed again. And when I tried to resume Brainwashing, what Garam did next was startling.

It glared at me with eyes full of killing intent, then they grew hazy and lost their light.

It had taken its own life.

Was it really choosing death over submitting to Brainwashing?

I hadn’t known monsters had this level of intelligence.

I stood there blankly for a long while, staring at the adult Earth Dragon and the hatchling lying side by side.

“……”

My honest thought was that it would be nice if there were one more here.

If there are parents, isn’t it usually two individuals?

Its mate and child had both met their end, so it would be good if the rest showed up and got caught alongside them.

But even after a long wait, nothing appeared.

Should I give off the smell of blood? Even so, nothing caught my senses.

“Was it hermaphroditic?”

I waited about ten more minutes, and when nothing showed, I contacted the Blue House.

* * *

Choi Junho’s departure for reconnaissance was part of the Blue House’s preemptive response.

Until now, humanity had maintained a defensive posture when hunting Harmful-class Level 8 monsters. The reason was that to search an area where a monster’s presence was detected, they inevitably had to bear the burden of dealing with other monsters.

If a Harmful-class Level 8 monster appeared while they were already engaged with a monster?

Since the hunting team could be wiped out entirely, it was better to establish a defensive line and wait for the Harmful-class Level 8 monster to show itself.

The Blue House could move this way entirely because of Choi Junho’s existence.

He was, unofficially, an existence approaching the Ten Great Transcendents—perhaps even beyond.

“An anomalous reaction, sir!”

An urgent report came up to the Blue House, which had been closely monitoring the Andong area.

The appearance of a Harmful-class Level 8 monster was directly tied to the nation’s survival.

No—Awakened great powers no longer felt much threat from Level 8 monsters. They had hunted them steadily, accumulated data, and built up hunting know-how.

But the Plus-tier that appeared afterward were individuals capable of driving even great powers to ruin.

Monsters kept appearing, but replacing a fallen transcendent took a long time.

Cheon Myeongguk, setting aside all dignity, ran as he issued response orders, then went straight to the President.

“A Level 8 monster has appeared. It’s in the Andong area of North Gyeongsang Province.”

“That’s where Transcendent Choi Junho is.”

“Yes.”

Despite the emergency, the President’s expression was calm.

Was it trust in Choi Junho, or trust in South Korea’s Awakened forces?

Cheon Myeongguk thought it was both. Since Choi Junho was there, he figured measures would be taken preemptively.

The President’s gaze turned to Cheon Myeongguk.

“Is it Plus-tier?”

“Unclear.”

“I hope it isn’t Plus. Those are still hard to deal with. Transcendent Choi Junho will handle it well, but accidents strike at the moments you least expect.”

In the meantime, a report came up, and Cheon Myeongguk reported with a bright expression.

“It’s not Plus-tier.”

“Then hunting it will be much easier. Good, have him move immediately.”

“I’ll contact the Shinseong Guild, which won the bid previously, and prepare countermeasures for Garam right away.”

The name of the newly appeared Harmful-class Level 8 monster was Garam.

Even if it wasn’t Plus-tier, staying put right now was absolutely out of the question.

The President judged that his intended objective had been achieved.

“First, contact Transcendent Choi Junho and order a retreat.”

“Yes! Then right away—”

Just as Cheon Myeongguk was about to move, a secretary came running with a frantic expression.

“Director!”

The President’s and Cheon Myeongguk’s gazes fixed on the secretary at the same time.

“What is it?”

“The reaction from the Harmful-class Level 8 monster has disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“Yes! Completely gone.”

What in the world had happened? The President and Cheon Myeongguk exchanged glances. Both wore dumbfounded expressions.

That lasted only a moment. The President spoke in a voice full of conviction.

“Something happened. The odds are high it’s related to Choi Junho.”

“I think the same.”

“A reaction disappearing means, without a doubt—”

It was more likely good news than bad.

Because Choi Junho was on the scene.

Whether a person or a monster, once caught in his hands, who could come out unscathed?

As various thoughts crossed, Cheon Myeongguk’s smartphone rang loudly.

“It’s Transcendent Choi Junho.”

“Take it.”

“This is Cheon Myeongguk.”

The moment the President gave his permission, he answered at once. A short while later, his expression stiffened slightly, and he kept nodding as he responded.

“What did he say?”

Cheon Myeongguk answered in a deflated voice.

“He says he hunted the Level 8 monster, and to send a team for cleanup.”

“Just as expected.”

“Yes.”

Were Harmful-class Level 8 monsters really this easy to hunt?

The nation had been preparing with all its might to face a monster capable of bringing down a country. And one individual had taken it down as easily as twisting a child’s wrist.

An individual can never surpass a nation.

And absolutely must not.

This was a conviction Cheon Myeongguk had held unchangingly.

Yet today, watching Choi Junho, he felt it shattering to pieces.

An individual the nation had to prepare against while feeling the threat of annihilation—he was disposing of it as simply as twisting a child’s wrist.

“Heh heh heh! Excellent, excellent!”

Unaware of Cheon Myeongguk’s feelings, the President’s laughter wouldn’t stop.

* * *

I’d gone out on reconnaissance and ended up catching a Level 8 monster.

This situation had actually happened.

I’d discovered an immature Earth Dragon individual, told it half-jokingly to bring its parents, and ended up catching the real parents too.

A happening built from one coincidence piling on another, just as the saying goes.

I’d hoped one more would get caught, but that failed—it seemed to be hermaphroditic or had caught on and fled.

The hunt had generated income approaching a trillion won, but the story of my hunting the monster named “Garam” had been adapted entirely differently.

It was Jin Sejeong’s work.

“It’s been packaged as a feat achieved when Transcendent Choi Junho made a decisive move to Andong to calm the citizens trembling in fear over the emergence of a Plus-tier monster.”

“……”

Should I call this ability to package even this impressive, or terrifying?

I’d just gone to earn my paycheck, and caught it because I saw it while I was there.

Her skill at assigning meaning surpassed imagination.

That made me think Jin Sejeong was impressive, but it seemed she had no intention of stopping there.

“Transcendent, this isn’t something to end here. You said Garam’s corpse will be displayed again tomorrow, right? This time, you absolutely must attend.”

“I didn’t attend last time.”

Was there any reason I had to attend?

If I went, unidentified fans older than me would gather calling me “oppa,” and I’d just end up getting my picture taken.

I hinted at refusal, but Jin Sejeong cut me off firmly.

“That’s exactly why you must attend this time.”

“I’d like to know the reason I absolutely have to participate.”

“Yes. First, because the spotlight needs to pour onto you, Transcendent. If we leave it as is, the government will take the greatest credit for hunting Garam. But the one who hunted Garam is you, Transcendent. You need to make sure the citizens know that accurately.”

Does it matter that people know who hunted it?

“Yes, it matters! It’s the most important part.”

She says it as if she’s read my mind.

Jin Sejeong looked me in the eyes and emphasized once more.

“In Nuri’s case, you generously yielded the credit to the government. The current President is a reasonable person, so he expressed his gratitude to you. But will he keep feeling grateful? Human psychology is such that people feel grateful once or twice, but after that they take it for granted. At some point, the perception will settle that the government takes the hunting results and Transcendent Choi Junho simply does the hunting. Why should the government take the results when you did the hunting?”

“……”

“There’s a saying: give standing up, receive kneeling down. I don’t want the government to show off and hand out scraps as if doing you a favor from the results you achieved, Transcendent.”

“I agree.”

She had a point.

The only thing Jin Sejeong had gotten wrong was the part about me staying still.

If someone crossed me, I had no intention of staying still at all.

Had she seen me as a good person? Well, since I’m a normal person, it’s not strange for her to see me that way.

At my agreement, Jin Sejeong’s expression relaxed considerably.

“Even if you yield later, you should make sure to secure what’s yours. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“No, you didn’t overstep at all.”

“That’s a relief. Honestly, I was trembling when I said it, having steeled myself.”

…For that, she sure seemed to talk freely.

But nothing Jin Sejeong said was wrong.

It wasn’t as if I hadn’t known.

I just found it bothersome and uncomfortable, so I hadn’t paid attention. Thanks to Jin Sejeong’s words, I learned what order things should go through, even if I’d give up when I chose to give up.

Simply put, wasn’t it telling me to take credit?

Advice like this was actually what I needed.

“If there’s anything you think I need going forward, I’ll ask for your advice.”

“Is that all right?”

“Yes.”

“Then, yes. I will. Honestly, I had so, so much I wanted to say.”

Seeing Jin Sejeong grin, I realized my mistake.

…That was a slip.

I ended up buried in Jin Sejeong’s endless chatter.

Still, it was a productive time.

Even more so if she hadn’t experimented with new styling.

* * *

The square was packed with people. Countless crowds gasped at the 30-meter Earth Dragon Garam. Some couldn’t approach out of fear, even though it was a corpse.

That was what monsters were to the citizens.

Objects of terror that destroyed their homes and threatened their lives.

To dilute the fear of monsters, the government held displays like this whenever one was hunted. It was a kind of demonstration and advertisement—proof that once dead, they were nothing special.

Lee Sehee and Jung Dahyun were out at Gwanghwamun Square, where Garam was displayed.

The two conversed some distance from Garam’s corpse.

“It’s new, seeing it like this.”

“Yeah.”

“Congratulations on reaching Level 7.”

“Thanks.”

“……”

A brief silence settled between them. Lee Sehee noticed Jung Dahyun felt awkward.

Such a good kid.

She’s worrying about whether I felt humiliated.

It was true my pride was hurt, but not to the point of showing it outwardly. If I didn’t express this feeling negatively and used it as nourishment for my own growth, that was enough.

At times like this, she was the one who comforted me instead.

“I’m going to work hard too. Falling behind doesn’t suit my temper. And I could become a transcendent first, you know? So don’t get complacent just because you’re ahead.”

“Yeah.”

A slightly awkward mood settled again.

Lee Sehee didn’t say much this time either.

The citizens were in a festive mood. It wasn’t as if hunting Garam would free South Korea from the threat of monsters, yet they were enjoying themselves. Maybe moments like this, when they could cheer even briefly, were necessary.

A short while later, the President’s official vehicle appeared a little ways from the square. Choi Junho got out first, and after being escorted, the President stepped out.

There was no security personnel around other than Choi Junho. The President’s trust and confidence in him was palpable.

And Choi Junho.

Dressed sharply in a black suit with full makeup, he looked like a Hallyu star playing the role of a bodyguard.

Sure enough, cheers erupted from all sides.

But why were people who looked well past their forties also calling him “oppa”?

‘Well, it’s because he has a trustworthy image, like he could do anything.’

Thinking anew that Jin Sejeong was impressive, she watched.

“He’s cool.”

“…Yeah. But whose idea was it to dress him up like that?”

“There’s someone famous in the industry named Jin Sejeong. Why? Aha.”

Lee Sehee curled the corners of her lips up.

At the look in her eyes, as if she’d found a toy, Jung Dahyun flinched.

“W-why are you looking at me like that?”

“Does it feel like he’s being taken away?”

“It doesn’t.”

Jung Dahyun denied it, but Lee Sehee’s smile only deepened.

Sensing she was completely cornered, resignation settled on Jung Dahyun’s face. Once Lee Sehee caught a scent, she clung on until her opponent raised the white flag and surrendered.

“I know everything. When a star only you knew gains popularity with the public, the sense of loss is huge. Our cute Dahyun, were you very anxious?”

“I said it’s not.”

“I know everything.”

When she patted her shoulder with a playful smile, Jung Dahyun smacked the hand away.

How annoying!

Lee Sehee grabbed her own hand and wailed like she was reading from a textbook.

“Ah, agh, Level, 7, Jung, Dahyun, is, mur, der, ing, me.”

“Sehee, don’t do acting.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

At the playful retort, Jung Dahyun burst out laughing.

* * *

Time passed smoothly.

Occasionally, a reaction similar to when I’d hunted Garam occurred, so I went out on reconnaissance, but no monster showed itself.

Had they coordinated with each other?

This was by no means a good phenomenon—reactions occurred but couldn’t be found, which pointed to the possibility that the Harmful-class Level 8 monster would appear as a Plus-tier.

Two months had passed since I hunted Garam, and now every Level 8 monster that appeared had turned into a Plus-tier.

Scholars dubbed this the leveling up across the board of monsters as a whole. Like the Awakened, monsters were locked in a fierce competition for survival, and their power was climbing fast.

The government named the next Plus-tier to appear “Soye,” and the Shinseong Guild won the bid for the hunt rights.

Lee Sehee was raring to go, declaring that this was the chance to show off what the Shinseong Guild could do.

But then something unexpected happened.

—Oppa! It’s chaos over here right now! Sehee-unnie and the Director got into a clash!

Yunhee called me in a frantic voice.

The Team Leader was Lee Sehee, and the Director was Baek Gunseo.

What did the two of them clashing have to do with me? Baek Gunseo would obviously end up opposing Lee Sehee when she became chairman of the Shinseong Group, so it wasn’t all that surprising.

—It involves you, oppa.

“Me?”

Yunhee warned me that it was an internal guild matter, but it would probably spread everywhere by tomorrow, so I shouldn’t tell anyone else and should keep it to myself—then she started explaining the details.

To sum it up simply, Baek Gunseo’s pride had been wounded because Lee Sehee had brought me in as an observer.

From Lee Sehee’s standpoint, it was insurance to minimize sacrifices, but from Baek Gunseo’s, it looked like she didn’t trust him.

His pride got hurt over something so trivial?

But she said that wasn’t the only way to see it. The Shinseong Guild strictly managed things like its hunting know-how, so some people were calling it a mistake on Lee Sehee’s part.

Why on earth? Was the Shinseong Guild’s hunting method really that special?

I wasn’t planning to form a hunting team anyway, so I’d just let it slide.

“Got it. I’ll handle the rest myself.”

—You’re not thinking of flipping the whole thing over, are you?

“Do I look like I would?”

—Yeah, I figure there’s a 99% chance you would.

…She’s a ghost. How did she know I was thinking about that?

“I won’t.”

—Don’t go making things awkward for the people around you for no reason. This is my workplace, you know.

“All right.”

After hanging up, I sorted through the situation in my head.

It wasn’t strange for opinions to clash inside a guild.

Baek Gunseo pretended to care for Lee Sehee, but turning on her at the decisive moment was something that actually happened in the future.

Unable to contain the commotion, the next day the press started chewing over, picking apart, savoring, and enjoying <Shinseong Guild Discord>.

Two days after that, the Shinseong Guild’s core executives, along with Lee Sehee and Baek Gunseo, attended the Soye hunt conference.

Even at a glance, a chilly atmosphere hung between the two of them. Amid all that, Lee Sehee kept stealing glances at me.

So it was connected to me. My name had been in the news, after all.

Or had she also figured, like Yunhee, that I was going to cause trouble?

This really drove home that getting people to trust you isn’t easy.

So I abandoned my plan to flip the whole thing over, walked up to Baek Gunseo, and asked him kindly.

“What exactly is it that you’re dissatisfied with?”