The Exiles
Exiles. In simple terms, they're awakened who committed crimes but refused punishment by the law and fled. Back when the world was still normal, if scum like these—far beyond ordinary humans—tried to run, nations would cooperate internationally or whatever to drag them back and lock them up. But unfortunately, in this post-Gate world where hunters emerged, things weren't so leisurely.
Instead, it was commonplace to secretly treat the more capable fugitives well and put them to use. No need to say more. Of course, as the saying goes, a dog's habits die hard. Some would commit crimes again in their hideouts and flee once more, but occasionally, a few settled down decently. Recruiting these types became a key pillar in each country's human resource strategy.
And "exiles" specifically referred to those who burned every bridge back to society, accepting treatment no different from monsters. Why "exiles" instead of "fugitives"? It's what you'd call a matter of face. Failing to catch runaway criminals showed society's incompetence, but isolating and expelling them felt like proper governance. It's all for show, really—no words for it—but you can't entirely ignore the power of a word's nuance. It settled in like a creeping fog.
Over thirty years after the Gate incident, they were treated as "humanoid monsters," stripped of all human rights. Killing them on sight carried no penalty—in fact, for famous named ones, the Association might even pay a bounty. Of course, encountering them was harder than you'd think.
How many ordinary people awaken, commit crimes, evade society's pursuit, and survive mingling with monsters? In that sense, Seong Ye-han facing off against enough exiles to fill two full hunting teams on his first hunt could be called strong luck—or some deliberate intent.
Unlike Seong Ye-han and Shin Ye-hwa's impressions, the exiles had taken their stealth seriously enough—in their own way. Their bad luck? They'd only accounted for A-rank or lower hunters.
Obviously, not S-ranks. Especially not the two whose physical senses ranked at the pinnacle. If they'd assumed that, they'd have bolted immediately instead of charging in like this.
Fuck... fucking hell.
Exile. A-rank. An elite who claimed top status in their underworld with her special ability, Stasis Field. "Taxidermist" Na Yu-ri couldn't hold back the curses in this dogshit situation.
Krunch—
"Gaaak!"
With a crunch of something shattering, one of her underlings collapsed—reduced from subordinate to corpse. His arm and side completely pulverized, instant death beyond any healing. And yet, the bastard glared at her with resentment in his dying moments. It pissed her off to no end.
She didn't give a damn if these disposable pawns died—they were nothing to her. The problem was they weren't doing their fucking jobs.
As a typical esper-type awakener, her physical stats weren't impressive. Close combat with a physical enhancer could be risky, so she'd filled her team with meat shields dedicated to one purpose: toughness. Built sturdy, solid, and tough again.
Yet those guys were getting pureed like tofu by a single punch from the man they'd been toying with—or thought they were. It was maddening.
No defense mattered; he barreled in like "one hit and you're done, but not me." No way to stop him.
And what drove her even crazier...
"Why... why the fuck isn't it working..."
Her ability. Stasis Field wasn't affecting the man.
For an esper, her close-range countermeasures were actually top-tier. Not due to combat skill, but purely her power. Stasis Field dominated suppression and restraint. Lightning-fast activation, flawless effect—once cast and complete, most foes were done.
The only drawback? Couldn't hit multiple targets at once. But so what? That's what the pawns were for...
Crunch—
The guy who'd been flexing his thick arm muscles just hours ago met the same fate as his comrades.
Nothing stood between her and him now.
"You... what the hell are you..."
She'd mocked him earlier, seeing A-rank battle prowess but wearing mass-produced C-rank gear. That Na Yu-ri was gone.
Of course. The guy who'd seemed ordinary swinging his spear went insane after dropping it.
Step, step.
As the man approached, Na Yu-ri desperately tried her ability again and again. Same result every time.
Shatter—
Like a movie prop glass window made of sugar. Her pride, her source of confidence, vanishing pathetically. Shock and horror.
From naive girl kidnapped by exiles, enduring hell to awaken this power. The ability that let her crush her tormentors and rise...
Useless.
Special abilities were still mana-based at their core. Matchups existed in hunter fights, but the one blessed with more physical power or mana volume held superior ability and resistance—overwhelming advantage. Why the hunter world was so hierarchical.
Lower ranks beating higher ones? Insanely hard.
Na Yu-ri was A-rank. So the man above her was obviously...
Whirr—
Mana reinforcement glowing vividly on his arm. A sight average physical enhancers couldn't dream of. Clear as day to her eyes.
"This is fucking insane..."
She'd thought his mana pool was just big for a physical type when he wielded the spear—impressive strength, sure. But that was pure physical ability, not mana boost?
Fuck, we're screwed. Royally fucked.
Escape? An esper's paper-thin body against a physical enhancer? How?
Even if espers had bigger mana tanks than same-rank physicals, mana reinforcement built on the body's foundation—like a skyscraper on a base. Weak foundation? No matter the mana or tech, height had limits.
Even at full physical boost, he'd catch her mid-warmup. And he wasn't same-rank—he was higher. S-rank.
Fuck. Aren't there only five S-ranks in Korea?
Where the hell did this one pop from? And why was the new S-rank glued to her target?
Na Yu-ri despaired. The world was screwing her over.
That bitch is barely A-rank—did she actually train her body? How do I survive? Offer my pussy? Maybe if I fuck him good...
Objectively, she had a killer body. If played right...
But surviving this? Then what about Him? Could she escape His clutches...?
"Kehk!"
Lost in turmoil, the man's hand suddenly gripped her throat.
No. No! I don't wanna die like this...!
Fading consciousness. Lungs screamed for air, but she couldn't comply.
At the edge of darkening vision, black eyes stared indifferently—the last thing Na Yu-ri recognized.
"Huu..."
Even accounting for midwinter, a chill like ice in his lungs gripped him.
Shiver, shiver.
Despite his powerful physical build, he couldn't stop trembling.
"Fucking pathetic, right? Seeing trash like you idiots think you can take me down."
Death's scythe hung at his throat. Even in the dark night, the blade's edge gleamed coldly, drawing cold sweat.
Just a mass-produced C-rank longsword, readily available... yet...
"R-rank clearly..."
The woman before him was Shin Ye-hwa. The idiot who'd dropped from S to A-rank recently. Rumored unable to use her special ability, effectively E-rank trash.
E-rank my ass... How the fuck is this a rank down?
He suspected Him had set a trap to dispose of him and the bitch. Ridiculous, cornered delusion—but it showed how royally fucked he was.
His underlings? Long since frozen solid, burned to ash like winter ice sculptures.
Only him left. Legs frozen, his prized speed useless. A fish in a net. A crucian carp impaled on a hook.
He and his crew? Utterly helpless. Ambush backfired into being ambushed—by an S-rank hunter.
Ha—fuck.
All he could do was curse inwardly.
Shivering, he met merciless amethyst eyes. No mercy there.
"S-spare...!"
"Fuck off."
Slash—
His death cry cut short as Shin Ye-hwa's blade passed his throat.
No blood. The severed part froze instantly.
Red jewels scattering, sparkling in faint moonlight. His final sight.