Don't Leave
The man who told me to just call him Francis looked, for lack of a better description, like a scientist who had stepped straight out of a video game.
"Pleasure to meet you, Guildmaster Kim!"
"Likewise, Francis."
As we exchanged greetings, Association President Volkov wasted no time launching into an explanation.
"This is the man who first developed Elixir at DARPA. He's since left the agency with a few of his team members and founded his own company."
"Haha! We're looking to establish a company specializing in Elixir manufacturing. We want to further develop and refine the technology we already have, open it up to all kinds of applications. That's why I asked President Volkov to arrange this meeting."
A slightly pudgy build. A beard. Glasses. The textbook nerd-scientist look.
"I'd like to hear what you're asking for."
"Magic Stones of level nine hundred and above. Would it be possible for you to supply our company with those stones in bulk, on a stable, ongoing basis? Ideally free of charge, without going through the auction houses."
Hand over level-nine-hundred-plus Magic Stones for free. There was obviously going to be something in return.
"It's not impossible. But what's the compensation?"
"We'll cut you in for a fixed percentage of the profits from every product we manufacture and sell going forward."
"What kind of product are you planning to make that would justify that…?"
Francis smiled. His face was brimming with absolute confidence.
"A room-temperature, ambient-pressure superconductor."
"Hasn't that already been developed?"
"Developed, yes. But mass production is still out of reach. Take a look at this. This is the room-temperature, ambient-pressure superconductor we first developed at DARPA. We called it Floty."
Francis pulled out a magnet and a rectangular metal tile and set them on the table. The metal tile floated above the magnet, hovering in midair. It was the kind of sight you only ever saw in science fiction.
"We have the fabrication technology. What we don't have yet is the technology for mass production."
"Why is that?"
"The mana concentration in Elixir is too low. Production is possible, but mass production isn't. You have to inject a large volume of Elixir into each piece of metal, so manufacturing even one of these tiny Floty units took nearly three months."
Francis pulled out a tablet and flipped through prepared materials, laying out the data for easy viewing as he continued.
"But Elixir refined from high-level Magic Stones — stones harvested from level-nine-hundred-class monsters — has an extremely high mana concentration. Not just high. Extremely high. With Elixir made from high-level monster Magic Stones, we can slash the production time for room-temperature, ambient-pressure superconductors by an enormous margin."
"Is that so?"
"It's not just the time that shrinks. Output goes up too. Let's use Elixir refined from low-level monster stones — say, a level-five-hundred monster — as a baseline. To produce one kilogram of superconductor, you need nearly five kilograms of Elixir. The mana concentration is so low that the injection process itself takes forever, which drags out the fabrication time even further."
"And with Elixir from level-nine-hundred monster stones?"
Francis grinned.
"Lab results say about a hundred grams is enough to produce one kilogram of superconductor. And you don't need a long injection window either. A day is plenty. In short, if you can keep us steadily supplied with high-level Magic Stones from monsters level nine hundred and above…"
"Mass production of superconductors becomes viable?"
"Exactly! This is going to be a game-changer. Demand will explode, no question. And the range of applications is endless. Batteries, electronic circuits, power transmission — all of it becomes dramatically more efficient. And above all, nuclear fusion technology will leap forward overnight."
Francis spread his arms wide, grinning like a child.
"Humanity will finally be free of the energy problem! Guildmaster Kim! Free! This product will sell itself. Just keep the Magic Stones coming, and we'll pay you thirty percent of the company's net profits every month."
It was an extremely sweet offer. I extended my hand to Francis.
"I'll detach part of our force specifically for high-level monster hunting. We'll supply the stones on a monthly basis. How much volume do you need?"
"The more, the better. But for now, at least three tons a month would be ideal. And it doesn't have to be strictly level-nine-hundred stones. The higher a monster's level, the greater its mana reserves — so if you hunt anything above nine hundred and bring us those stones, we'll be more than satisfied."
Demand for high-level monster Magic Stones was going to explode. That much was certain.
"Looks like we'll need to expand our hunter roster. We'll probably need help from American hunters as well."
"Haha! The more, the better! Stray Dog will need to recruit more hunters too. Magic Stone demand is only going to grow from here — it will never shrink."
"There are still plenty of discharged Korean hunters who never joined us. We can bring them in."
"Haha! Then there's no problem at all!"
I looked at Francis's bright, carefree smile and let out a small sigh, tinged with mild regret.
"So demand for high-level Magic Stones is about to go through the roof. Low-level hunters need to hunt monsters near their own level to grow, but those stones are about to become worthless. That's a bit of a shame."
"What are you talking about, Guildmaster Kim? Honestly, low-level Magic Stones are going to be far more useful than the high-level ones."
What?
Hadn't he just said high-level stones were required to produce room-temperature, ambient-pressure superconductors?
"Didn't you just say high-level Magic Stones were necessary for producing room-temperature, ambient-pressure superconductors?"
"For the superconductors, yes. But that doesn't mean low-level Magic Stones become useless. Low mana concentration also means the product can be applied to ordinary civilians outside the Gates. It means you can ingest it or inject it into the human body without triggering mana contamination."
Francis chuckled.
"Guildmaster Kim. The hair-loss treatment currently on the market is made from Magic Stones of level one hundred and below. It's still in the research phase, but once development is complete, low-level stones will sell in far greater volume than high-level ones."
"A hair-loss treatment… Is that also something DARPA is working on?"
"Same story — one of our researchers' projects. They're trying to exploit the property of Magic Stone mana that activates cellular activity. The guy's in his fifties with half his head already bare, so he's researching it with a personal sense of mission."
Francis laughed heartily. I couldn't laugh with him.
Exploiting the cellular activation property?
This wasn't just about hair-loss treatments.
This was a technology that could be applied across every branch of medicine.
We needed to ramp up Magic Stone production.
And we needed to buy these researchers at the bottom — right now.
"Between the rift-clearing fees from Korea, the EU, Japan, India, and Russia, our guild is swimming in cash right now. I want to invest. Whatever funding your research needs, we'll cover it."
At those words, Francis pulled out a contract as if he'd been waiting for exactly this moment.
"I figured as much. I think we're going to make excellent partners going forward, Guildmaster Kim."
Francis smiled.
"Welcome aboard with Floty — the company specializing in room-temperature, ambient-pressure superconductor production."
The moment Francis left, I gathered Yeonghak and the party leaders and delivered the news.
"Room-temperature, ambient-pressure superconductors? Mass production?"
"Yeah. So from now on, high-level monster Magic Stones get priority delivery to Floty. And demand for low-level stones is only going to grow too — it's not going to shrink."
Some people broke into laughter or cheers at that. Others wore expressions clouded with worry.
"Magic Stone demand is about to explode, but our numbers are fixed. Can we even handle that kind of volume?"
"If we don't want to work ourselves to death, we're going to need a lot more hunters."
Fair points.
"I'm planning to call in the discharged hunters. Most of them have at least three years of experience, so they'll adapt in no time."
Yeonghak raised his hand.
"I'll handle talking those guys into it. If I make the pitch, most of them will come."
"Yeah, they will. I'll leave that to you. But even if we round up every last discharged hunter, it still won't be enough. We need to start recruiting people with mana affinity from scratch."
A range of opinions surfaced on the issue.
"We should focus recruitment on Americans and Koreans, don't you think?"
"We're going to need a new training facility too."
"We can run that out of the new base. Yeonghak can handle the training."
"We'll need proper textbooks and training equipment built from the ground up."
"How do we filter out the dead weight? Step into a Gate unprepared and you can die in a heartbeat."
"We've got mages. Use psychometry to read their memories and make the call. Anyone who refuses the scan doesn't get in, period."
"Psychometry, huh. The mages are going to have a rough time — reading every single applicant's memories."
Opinions kept flying back and forth. Then —
"Seongho. Are we taking women too?"
One of the party leaders raised the question.
The room froze solid.
Women.
Discriminating against people based on gender was a genuinely ugly thing to do — but our experience was screaming at us.
In all our time dealing with hunters, we had never once met a woman who was solid. Every last one of them tried to duck dangerous assignments. On raid days, they came down with mysterious illnesses left and right. No sense of responsibility, loved giving orders, and still insisted on collecting every right they could claim.
I hadn't wanted to develop a prejudice. But wanting and being able to avoid it were two different things.
"Let's not take them. It's a headache waiting to happen."
"Have you ever seen a woman actually pull her weight at a base? They dump every hard raid on us and then sit in the back doing 'base management.'"
"And half of them didn't even want to do the base management. They tried to duck that too."
Some party leaders made no effort to hide their open hostility.
"It was a few years back, but the nursing officer at the base was excellent. I still remember how cleanly she treated my arm when it was shredded to ribbons."
"Let's take the ones worth taking. We're short on people."
"I think we should accept them. There are good ones out there."
Other party leaders argued for inclusion. Opinions split sharply, and the exchange grew heated — until I raised a hand and quieted the room.
"Yeonghak. What do you think?"
On any other issue I might have decided myself. On this one, Yeonghak was the expert. He was a living witness who had watched the full ten-year history of Korea's rift-clearing operations with his own eyes.
He said nothing at first. Just lit a cigarette.
After a moment of thought, he spoke.
"We take them."
"Hyung!"
"You remember how useless the female soldiers were!"
Some pushed back. Others nodded in silence. But Yeonghak's position didn't budge.
"Don't you remember what Seongho said? We're the stray dogs they threw away. You think there aren't discarded people among the women too? You think there are no heroes among them? Shutting the door completely isn't right."
There was weight behind his words.
If I was the one who started things and drew up the plans, Yeonghak was charisma itself.
But he wasn't finished.
"That said, I have zero interest in taking on incompetent women. We set clear standards for hunter recruitment. Physical fitness, judgment, weapons proficiency — we evaluate all of it coldly and only take the ones who make the cut. We don't need people who freeze up and start whining the second things get hard."
Once he put it that way, even the ones who'd been arguing against accepting women fell quiet.
"If we're evaluating coldly and only taking people with real skill, then… fine."
"Let's do it Yeonghak's way. No complaints from me."
And that settled it.
I stood up.
"I'll post Stray Dog's new hunter recruitment notice in both the US and Korea. I'll design the evaluation standards and test items myself. Yeonghak, you handle the judging."
"Got it. I'll do it."
From that day on, Yeonghak and I put our heads together and started mapping out the structure of the exam.
With Yeonghak's help, the test items came together in no time.
And a few days later —
"Stray Dog is recruiting new hunters. Interested parties are invited to apply."
The recruitment notice went public.
After Stray Dog Guild's hunter recruitment notice was published, a peculiar resentment began to simmer across the female-dominated online communities.
At first the women railed against the test standards as a transparent attempt to wash women out. Gradually, though, the conversation shifted.
Bit by bit, a public opinion that never once considered the will of the people involved began to boil over among the women.