Casualty Notification
After dealing with the merchants in the garrison zone, we spent the next few days slowly shaping Stray Dog Guild into something that actually felt like a guild.
“Yeonghak hyung. I need you to take charge of training the new guys. You’ve always been good at teaching. You know how to handle wyverns, right?”
“How could I not? Ever since you were a rookie, you’ve been riding those things until I got sick of watching.”
Yeonghak hyung headed inside the gate to handle the guild members’ training. I, on the other hand, only summoned the wyverns into the gate and spent most of my time operating outside the guild itself.
“The cement company just moved in!”
“Thank you, President Volkov. What about the restaurants that wanted to set up shop?”
“They say they’ll be here by next week!”
“Appreciate it. Ah—and I’ve been looking at a residential area for the permanent U.S. garrison personnel. How about around here?”
“Tanbang-dong, huh. Looks solid. I’ll tell them to relocate this way.”
There was never a quiet moment. I spent every waking hour racing around Daejeon with President Volkov, trying to get the city into some kind of working order. Meanwhile Yeonghak hyung trained the new guild members and dispatched wyverns to rifts in the United States, Japan, Russia, India, and Europe—hauling supplies and providing fire support for rift clearances.
After about a week, Daejeon still wasn’t perfect, but it had become a place where people could actually live.
With the wyverns, the overwhelming physical power of the awakened, and support from American hunters, the forward base inside the gate was going up at breakneck speed. Outside, U.S. forces and various corporations were pouring in, turning Daejeon into a city where at least food and shelter were no longer in question.
And the moment that foundation was in place, the first thing we did was this:
“Mom. How are you feeling?”
“Dad. I’m in Daejeon right now. It’s hard to explain over the phone. Can you come here?”
“Yes, Father. I’m fine. Please come down. There’s a lot I need to tell you.”
We called our families. Buses were arranged to pick up the relatives of the two hundred hunters who had been detained by the Hunter Association and then released. The next day those buses rolled into Daejeon carrying every last one of them. The moment the families stepped off, the parking lot turned into a sea of tears.
“Mom!”
“Oh, Donghyeon, you little brat!! Are you okay? Huh? You’re not hurt anywhere?”
Mothers choking back sobs, fretting over their sons.
“You little bastard!! When something happens, you’re supposed to call!! People show up out of nowhere, drag our whole family to the Hunter Association and lock us up! …What the hell is going on?!”
“We were inside the gate—there was no signal. I’ll explain everything properly.”
Fathers scolding and raging out of pure worry. The reunions were that raw, that overwhelming. Yeonghak hyung and I stayed back at a distance, simply watching the families find each other.
“Yeonghak hyung. You didn’t call your father?”
“No. My mother spent her whole life struggling to raise me. That son of a bitch walked out when I was five and never once came looking. He’s not family anymore. What about you?”
“I don’t have a family.”
“You don’t?”
I still hadn’t told Yeonghak hyung about my family. It wasn’t the kind of story you just drop, and until now we’d been too busy raiding to breathe.
“I’m an orphan.”
“……I didn’t know. Sorry.”
“I never told you, so of course you didn’t.”
“But if you’re an orphan, shouldn’t you have been exempt from conscription? Why’d they drag you here?”
I gave a bitter little smile.
“If you become an orphan after age thirteen, you’re still fair game for the draft.”
“That’s fucked.”
“Yeah. It is.”
Watching the hunters cling to their parents and cry made something strange twist in my chest.
What does it feel like to have parents?
What does it feel like to be protected, to have someone’s absolute support?
I don’t know.
But I do know what it feels like to have people who will watch your back when life and death are on the line.
These hunters are my responsibility now.
“Everyone! May I have your attention for a moment!”
I switched on the megaphone and addressed the families still pouring out their emotions across the parking lot.
“Please head over to the parade ground. We’ve prepared light refreshments and seating. I’d like to speak with you there about how things will work going forward!”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
How things will work going forward?
“What do you mean, ‘how things will work’?”
One of the hunters’ relatives called out to me.
I answered.
“This isn’t an order. But it is a strong recommendation.”
Thinking of the revenge still ahead of me, this was something I had to say.
“Everyone. Would you consider moving into Daejeon and living here with us?”
The wide field that had once served as a parade ground was packed solid with people. The hunters’ families listened, and their reactions split in every direction.
“Look, I know South Korea’s a mess, but we’ve lived our whole lives in our hometowns…… Asking us to just up and move to Daejeon is a bit much.”
People recoiling at the idea of relocating.
“I’ll come. My retirement’s not far off anyway. Staying close to the hunters looks like the smarter long-term play.”
People ready to move without hesitation.
“I run a company. I can’t just shut everything down and come south overnight.”
People firmly declining, and everything in between.
The responses were all over the map.
But I didn’t stop trying to persuade them.
“You’ve all heard about the development of Elixir. The gate industry is only going to grow from here—it will never shrink. Daejeon is going to become the new center of South Korea. Elixir still needs a great deal of research and development. That means its value will only climb with time.”
Even those who had refused began to waver under the force of my pitch.
“Daejeon needs hands. More companies, more people have to come live here if anything is going to get done. I want you to be the first residents. Help us drive the gate industry forward.”
Whispers. Hesitation. Husbands and wives debating in low voices. I let the silence sit for a beat, then continued.
“I’m not asking you to decide right this second. Think it over carefully. If you change your minds later, you’re still welcome. Daejeon will always be open to you.”
“That’s all well and good, but what the hell actually happened?”
“Yeah! Why did our sons suddenly become American citizens, and what’s all this about magic stones and Elixir and rifts…… What is going on?!”
At their parents’ words, every hunter clamped their mouth shut.
Yeonghak hyung had drilled them thoroughly: say nothing beyond the script we agreed on. No freelancing that could spark controversy.
Only he and I would speak.
I took a sip of water to steady my throat for the long story ahead. This was the scenario President Volkov and I had carefully aligned—half truth, half carefully constructed fiction, but every word tilted hard in our favor.
What were they going to do about it?
If we simply kept our mouths shut, no one would ever know what happened inside that gate. I opened my mouth and told them why we had become what we were. Why we had no choice but to mutiny.
And every thread of that story began with one thing.
“Some of you may find this hard to hear. But it has to be said, and you have every right to hear it. First things first: the death of Hunter Lee Sangmin.”
I started with Sangmin’s death.
From there the story poured out—how we discovered Elixir’s true use, how Base Leader Cho Geunseong and the Republic of Korea had treated the hunters. Even with a few lies mixed in, the truth made up ninety-nine percent of it, so the words came easily.
As they listened, the faces of the hunters’ families twisted tighter and tighter.
And when I reached the part about Hunter Seo Yeongcheol’s death—how the hunters, their trust in Korea completely shattered, had simply stood aside when the mutant wyverns attacked the base and the Daejeon garrison, then flown to America on the wyverns Yeonghak hyung had so conveniently brought—
“These bastards! What do they think a human life is worth?!”
“They announced he collapsed from heatstroke? Where the hell do they get off with that bullshit?!”
“You did the right thing, son. You did good! With treatment like that, did they really expect the hunters to die defending the base?!”
Every parent in the crowd was seething. It was only natural.
“That’s how we became American citizens. And America doesn’t want South Korea to collapse. So, in exchange for rift-clearance fees, we had no choice but to come back. And we called you here.”
I raised my hands, quieting the furious families.
“I’ll be honest with you. The Korean government is not going to like us. They used to work us cheap; now we’ve raised the flag and started charging real money. And the public won’t like us either. Suddenly a huge chunk of their taxes is going to rift-clearance fees—why would they be happy?”
I let the bitterness show.
“Plenty of people are going to call us selfish. Traitors who sold out the country.”
The heavy truth drained the anger from the air. I had no choice but to lay the cold reality in front of them.
“That’s exactly why I’m asking you even more strongly to come into Daejeon. Outside this city, we can’t protect you. Move here. Live with us. We’ll take care of your food, clothing, and shelter.”
My earnest plea swayed several families who had been on the fence; they agreed to come. But some still refused to the end.
“I’ve lived my whole life in Seongnam. Just abandoning it and leaving is hard. My house, my network—everything’s there……”
“Like I said, I run a company. Hunter Kim Seongho, I can’t just dump all my employees overnight. That would be irresponsible.”
Those who couldn’t come had their reasons. I didn’t want to force them.
“Do as you wish. But Daejeon will always be open to you. If the Republic of Korea ever turns on you, come here anytime.”
It was getting late. Time to close the gathering.
“Anyone who wants to leave can take the buses back. Those who’d like to stay one night with the hunters are welcome to. And if you want to settle here for good, speak with President Volkov over there—he’ll arrange housing. Thank you for making the trip. We’ll be right here from now on. So please, rest easy.”
With that, people began to drift apart one by one.
“Donghyeon. Son. I’ll come visit often. Mom just can’t quit her job right now……”
“It’s okay. I understand. Come whenever you can, Mom.”
“Yeah. My boy. Please don’t get hurt.”
Families saying goodbye.
“Good lord! How much money is this?”
“Settlement from clearing rifts, Dad. Use it to pay off the loans.”
“I can’t just take your blood money. Keep it. Your old man can handle his own problems.”
Parents stubbornly refusing the cash their sons pressed on them, and every other kind of parting in between.
If that had been the end of it, it would have been an ordinary day.
Yeonghak hyung would have taken a group of hunters back inside the gate to hunt what needed hunting and train who needed training. I would have gone back to racing around Daejeon with President Volkov, fixing the city.
But one person’s arrival made sure that ordinary day never came.
“Guildmaster Kim.”
“Major Hagan? What’s going on?”
Major Hagan had been stationed in Korea long enough that his Korean was fluent. We could talk without an interpreter.
“My men just brought in an elderly woman in a hurry. She was working at a restaurant and missed the calls. She says she’s a hunter’s family member.”
“A hunter’s family. Whose?”
The next words out of Major Hagan’s mouth made my breath catch hard in my throat.
“Hunter Seo Yeongcheol’s mother.”
He hesitated a moment, then delivered the crueler part.
“She still doesn’t know that Hunter Seo Yeongcheol is dead.”
“Bring her here. I’ll tell her myself.”
Major Hagan nodded with a heavy face. Yeonghak hyung and I told him to bring Seo Yeongcheol’s mother to the cleanest building nearby.
And when she finally appeared—
“Are you Hunter Kim Seongho? Where’s my Yeongcheol? Where is Yeongcheol?”
She was the most ordinary middle-aged woman imaginable, wearing an apron with the logo of Yeongcheol’s Gukbap printed on it. Anxiety, expectation, and hope all lived together in her eyes as she looked at me.
Should I lie?
Say he went missing.
Missing inside the gate.
That we don’t know where he is.
So she could at least live holding on to hope.
Was that what I was supposed to give her?
But no matter how long I turned it over, the answer was the same.
She had the right to know the truth.
“Ma’am, please sit down first.”
I guided her carefully onto the sofa.
Then sat across from her.
My mouth wouldn’t open.
But I still had to speak.
With difficulty—
real difficulty—
harder than hunting any Level 1200 boss monster, I forced my lips apart and told her the truth.
And when every last word had been said,
a wail tore out of her throat.
Not a human cry—something closer to a beast howling, raw and terrible.
A sound so full of grief it was almost frightening.