Chapter 91: Their Intentions
The real problem was the hunters attempting to breach what I considered the boundary line.
Spotting them as hunters wasn't hard. In this day and age, only hunters still wielded cold weapons like that. Armored figures carrying swords, spears, and bows, trying to push in. Their affiliation was obvious at a glance from the emblems on their armor.
They were hunters under the pro-Japanese conglomerate faction—the very group fingered as the culprits behind this gate incident.
Right before entering, they were giving interviews.
"I want to make this clear: it was an accident. We're deeply regrettable that this happened because of it, but we'll do everything in our power to hold back the monsters."
The guy spouting that plausible bullshit. He had to be the mastermind behind this mess. He looked about my age, with a clean-cut appearance and an air of smug confidence.
"What the hell are they banking on to act like that?"
Seon-woo chimed in at my words. "Everyone's got some half-baked plan. Right up until they get their asses handed to them."
"Heh, spot on. You think those clowns can actually calm that down?"
"From where I'm standing, they look like a suicide squad."
I nodded in agreement with Seon-woo. What could they even do charging in like that? They wouldn't stand a chance against orcs.
In games, orcs often showed up as low-level trash mobs, but the ones I'd faced were no pushovers. The gray orcs in our territory had been weakened by starvation back then. Now, well-fed and grown strong, they could toy with something like a minotaur.
What's the point of this? Their growth potential is on another level. Orcs might be like humans—no hard cap on how far they can go.
Minotaurs, trolls, ogres—they're born strong, but their growth ceiling is low. That's why they're manageable. If those bastards had explosive growth like ours, they'd be nightmares.
I've said it before: our territory is blessed. We can't compare growth speed or quality to anywhere else.
Put another way, hunters from other territories probably haven't scaled up much. So those guys facing high-growth orcs with their current firepower? Suicide squad fits perfectly, just like Seon-woo said.
"By the way, don't those idiots look familiar?"
I nodded at Seon-woo's comment. "The banzai charge crew from back then?"
The Fukushima banzai rushers. They were under hypnosis at the time, really. But these guys didn't have that glazed look in their eyes.
"You know what's scarier than hypnosis?"
I stared at Seon-woo, the veteran hunter. "What?"
"Hope. 'Do this for me, and I'll hook you up.' Plenty of people will charge to their deaths hearing that crap, even knowing it's a one-way trip."
Even if they were volunteering on the surface, it didn't feel fully genuine. Like there was more to it.
"So, you think I should step in?"
"Hell no. No reason to wade into that shitshow. And didn't you talk to the gate itself?"
"Yeah."
"Feels like it won't cross that boundary line."
"Probably. But that boundary's massive. Looks like city hall's gotta be rebuilt somewhere new, and all the companies around it's toast."
"Right? And the government's not taking the easy way out."
I nodded. "Every time some disaster hits, there's always a simple fix. But nations—governments—never go for it. They let the screw-up take the blame, promise prevention next time. Everyone knows that playbook. But I've never seen a government actually pick the easy path."
"Fair enough... they might have their reasons."
"Sure. And look at those mouthpiece hacks blabbing away. 'We're right. Follow us.' Same script everywhere."
I'd flipped through channels, and every TV talking head spouted the same line: humanity can't bow to the gate. Even though humans caused this mess in the first place.
"Entering now."
Nyaang.
Hoya eyed the TV with utter disdain.
"They're all gonna die. But what do those bastards gain from this? That's what I can't figure out."
Did they really think that lineup could make a dent? No way they were that clueless. And yet they kept feeding people in. The kicker? The gate's boundary let external cameras film freely. So every moment of the hunters' desperate struggle got broadcast live.
- Kraaak!
- Die!
- Help! Somebody!
It was pandemonium. Hell on earth. Goblins, kobolds, and orcs teaming up against the human hunters.
As expected, armor or not, holding off monsters wasn't easy. Suicide squad, like Seon-woo said.
- Aaaagh! Save me!
- Fall back! Nooo!
The broadcast showed them dying in real time—no mosaics, no cuts. Unbelievable.
Normally, they'd kill the feed for gore like that.
"What the...? Why air this raw?"
Seon-woo looked as baffled as me.
"They're gunning for something."
The broadcast kept rolling as we talked. The anchor looked flustered; panels were freaking out. Meant the station didn't expect this either. Anchor mumbling helplessly, experts turning away.
Then, back to the scene—and the culprit's interview.
"The hunters appear to have fallen heroically. Did you anticipate this?"
"We knew it'd be tough, but not this lopsided. If I'd known, I never would've sent them."
"What's your plan now?"
"You might not know, but there's an incredible hunter among Koreans—maybe not even in Korea proper. When the Fukushima crisis hit Japan, just three people resolved it. We need their help."
"Ah, the ones in the steel man suits?"
"Exactly. We need their power. We'll even charter a plane to Japan if they want. Please, help us."
"But no guarantee they'll come, right?"
"Slim chance, honestly. But Korea has amazing hunters too—no, a grand lord. With their aid, we can end this."
"What's a grand lord?"
"The system calls gate owners who control other gates 'grand lords.' Jeong Gi-hoon of Jeongsan Group, Choi Si-woo of Siho Territory. I hold the title too, but I've heard they're leagues beyond me."
That's when someone interrupted the interview. Kim Mi-young, the gate manager.
"Hold on. Jo Mun-seong caused this mess—why should they help?"
Jo Mun-seong scowled briefly before plastering on a smile.
"I said it was an accident. We're all Korean, aren't we? This is happening in the heart of Korea—helping is the natural thing."
"Would you sacrifice for their gates if trouble hit?"
"Team Leader Kim Mi-young, I don't get why you're asking that. So what do we do about this crisis?"
"I heard if you enter the gate's domain, it's resolved. Why chase hard paths when easy ones exist?"
"Whoa, Kim Mi-young's going full throttle," Seon-woo said.
She was echoing my own words—the fastest fix for this disaster.
"So you're saying I should sacrifice? What about Rown Group's employees I answer to?"
"You won't sacrifice yourself but throw your hunters away? And talk like other grand lords should?"
"Who the hell is this? Get her out!"
Jo Mun-seong snapped in fury. That's when I called Kim Mi-young.
"It's me, Choi Si-woo. Switch to speaker."
"Yes, Mr. Choi Si-woo."
On TV, she held her smartphone to the mic. I spoke up.
"Listen here, Jo Mun-seong. I don't know what gives you the right to demand my sacrifice, but clean up your own shit. You enter the gate alone, and it's done. Straight from the mutated gate itself. Gates aren't idiots. Accident? Bullshit. You killed that gate's owner. You're a grand lord—you know the system doesn't lie. So go wipe your own ass. If worse comes after, then I'll bring my territory's hunters."
I hung up.
"Jo Mun-seong, what was that? I know the system doesn't lie... but the gate calling you a murderer?"
"Nonsense. He's just dodging sacrifice."
"Then why won't you sacrifice?"
"For Rown Group's employees, like I said."
"So Siho's grand lord should?"
"No more interview."
Jo Mun-seong stormed off. And right then—the gate's boundary expanded. Monsters poured out.
Jo bolted; the female reporter was seconds from being mauled.
Boom!
A familiar group appeared. "Hold them back!"
Jeong Gi-hoon's voice. No clue why he was there, but he'd brought his territory's hunters.