Chapter 190
Chapter 190
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 190
Chapter Title: 88. Underclassman
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Beep-beep-beep.
The walkie-talkie kept blaring.
Should I pick it up?
Or ignore it?
For some reason, I went with a third choice.
I thought back to the past.
No real point in reminiscing now, but let's recall Kim Daram from our school days.
She and I didn't cross paths much back then, but she was always bright, lively, and full of that positive drive to give her all.
I don't remember many people who disliked her.
Just... not as cute as her name suggested.
From the first time I saw her, she towered a full head—or half a head, at least—over the other girls.
Model build? Nah, not quite.
More like a leopard walking upright on two legs.
She was blessed with that natural physique—the biggest gift back then.
*
The top hunter title shifts with the times.
Lately, folks toss around names like Kang Han-min and Na Hye-in as hunter icons, but back in the day, I held my own too.
Even during my student years, there was a famous hunter.
"Like Michael Booth!"
Hardly anyone remembers Michael Booth now.
Maybe someone on Baek Seung-hyeon's level recalls him vaguely. Get to Defender rank, and they'd just ask, "Michael Booth? Who's that?"
He was one of the first humans to step into a rift, shining when they started spewing alien creature-level threats.
Like the hero from some blockbuster adventure flick, he rocked a cowboy hat and wielded a long whip as his weapon.
In the school media room, you could watch footage of him cracking a 3-meter whip, shredding a swarm of scissor-mantis alien creatures in seconds.
Above all, he was stylish.
Practicality aside, his dance-like moves were flashy enough to leave viewers in awe.
I'm convinced that Michael Booth footage had a huge impact on Jang Gi-yeong.
"Like Michael Booth!"
Freshman year, Jang Gi-yeong showed me the videos and demanded I emulate him.
The vibe lasted into early sophomore year.
Until Michael Booth faced a "real monster" with a reflective barrier, shook like a leaf, couldn't do a damn thing, and died.
I'm equally convinced that pathetic end left a deep mark on Jang Gi-yeong.
"...The weak-minded die. They're no hunters. A hunter doesn't flinch when family dies right beside them—they burn with hatred for the monster alone. Only they qualify."
He'd shown signs before, but that's when Jang Gi-yeong went full-blown mentalist, way over the top. I remember about 100 students under his erratic teachings back then.
Kim Daram was one of them.
Both disciples of Jang Gi-yeong, but different grades meant we never really crossed paths.
Just joint drills or events he hosted.
Jang Gi-yeong ran this weird test once a year.
Called Monster Tracking: his disciples hunt down Jang Gi-yeong disguised as a monster.
A tracking drill, basically.
Back then, small infiltration-types were seen as the biggest threat in monster invasions, so it made sense.
But I think Jang just wanted an excuse to goof off.
The guy never smiled, but he'd grin ear-to-ear, humming tunes while prepping. One hundred percent sure.
Figured the faction fights and lobbying stressed him out.
Every disciple in Jang's faction joined that "Monster Tracking." For us graduating seniors, he gave special orders.
"Groups of one senior grad and 4-5 juniors. You who've learned from me should get why. Teach them. Lead them."
For whatever reason, I got three juniors.
Lee Han-na, Kim Maria, and Kim Daram.
Figured there was a reason.
I was the top student prospect then, and Jang Gi-yeong's gaze on me felt off.
Like he was trying some mind-meld thing, but I'd already started doubting him by then.
This guy's a con artist, right?
"Alright, tracking starts now. I head out, you hunt after one hour! Don't trust your eyes or ears—trust your inner hunter instinct! Good hunting!"
And just like that, I got stuck herding three uninvited juniors into Jang Gi-yeong's little recreation.
Tracking him through the endless twists of the Baekdu Daegan Taebaek range—with 15kg packs and replica guns matching real weight—was no joke.
The bastard was fit, a beast on mountains. He'd prescouted, leaving fake trails and pit traps to screw with us students.
Our sly mentor even added stakes to his playtime.
"First to find me gets beef. Top 5 gets mountain veggie bibimbap. Below that, starve. Last place walks back to Seoul!"
Handicap, he called it: top-student-led groups started late.
During the break, I sized up my first assigned juniors.
Of the three girls, Lee Han-na was a celebrity.
Pretty face, killer curves.
Didn't wanna know, but dorm gossip about hot juniors was nonstop.
Lee Sang-hun brought her up constantly; even Gong Kyung-min, who low-key hated him, chimed in like old pals whenever she came up.
Kim Maria, the Catholic—got the baptismal name Augustine in exchange for snacks. Stood out in training.
Small build, but ace shot, quick learner.
Even now, she's zigzagging steep slopes on those short legs, her own style.
Unlike them, I'd known Kim Daram from before.
Such a shame, such a waste.
Rock-solid basics and physique, but lacked adaptability and imagination.
Biggest issue: weak heart.
Heard she got bullied bad at relatives' after losing parents. Always timid, people-pleasing.
Still is.
Trailing last, eyeing Lee Han-na and Kim Maria passing her.
"Daram, sorry, mind holding my gun a bit? I'm off today."
"Tell Park Gyu sunbae we should rest?"
They're ahead, but whispers carry if you listen.
Kim Daram did as told.
"Um, Park Gyu sunbae."
She approached me.
"Really sorry, but can we rest a bit?"
"Five-minute break."
We'd pushed hard, following Jang's freshest trail, so despite late start, we had good ground.
First unlikely, but bibimbap doable?
Spent five minutes zoning out, silent.
Heard the juniors murmuring.
"Ugh, got a date this weekend—what's the deal?"
"Popular life's the best. Who's it this time?"
"Med student."
"What? Age gap much?"
"Not that bad—pre-med second year? Guys just need looks, height, nice personality. Sweet, gentle, kind... minus the no-fun part. Easygoing."
"Class next door's Woo Min-hee swaps guys often too."
"She only dates ones she can control. Not me."
"Bitch."
Endless girl talk, not one peep from Kim Daram.
Glanced back quietly.
She sat apart, staring at her old flip phone.
No signal anyway.
That lonely, wistful face and ancient phone—maybe family pics saved there.
Not my problem, I thought.
Everyone solves their own shit.
Mental game's strictly personal—no one else can fix it. That was my creed then.
"Let's go."
Resumed the hunt for Jang Gi-yeong.
Disaster struck.
Kim Maria hit one of Jang's booby traps—got snagged dangling from a tree.
"Ah, fuck!"
No clue where Jang learned that shit, but dangerous.
Bent branch hoisting her mid-air was creaking bad. It snapped; she fell awkwardly.
"Aaaagh!"
Saw it clear as day.
Her roll minimizing impact.
When Kim Maria limped over, I pondered.
Ditch the test? Or ditch her?
I decided fast back then.
"Injured? Tough luck. Head back."
Cut her loose.
Didn't look at the others' faces.
No need.
Whatever expressions, they wanted out of Jang's game.
"Kim Daram. You coming?"
Lee Han-na called her.
Saw Kim Daram hesitate.
Clear as day.
She didn't wanna quit.
Just caught in the other girl's peer pressure.
Could've ignored, but remembered our similar spots. Said short:
"One helper's enough, right?"
Decision made easy.
Kim Daram stayed.
Straggler left; two of us pushed on.
No chit-chat.
Instead, picked up pace, hit rough terrain.
Kim Daram's stamina was elite.
Kept up on boy-tough paths without huffing.
Five hours, dead silent.
Jang Gi-yeong's ahead now.
Hiding in the brush, watching us.
Goal in sight.
Could head to him, but suddenly felt bad wasting this follower.
"Kim Daram."
"Yes, sunbae."
Sweat-soaked, face weary, but eyes sharp.
Hand waved from bushes—Jang's.
Ignored, kept going.
"Others' opinions don't change 'cause you fret over them."
"Sunbae...?"
This was a lecture.
Not my usual.
"When do you think views shift?"
"W-well."
"When you're so skilled they notice you. Not by people-watching or fitting in."
She got it then.
Face changed.
Timid mask cracked—true sharp glint underneath.
"Ignore opinions. Actions cover all. If you're worthless, yeah, bow and scrape. But getting shit on by inferiors when you keep up with me? That's on you."
Stared her down, final word:
"Remember: good results forgive everything. In our world, at least."
Another hand from bushes, thumbs-up circle.
Seemed I'd nailed what Jang wanted.
But his hands urged more.
More lecturing?
No choice—dumped my usual thoughts on the junior.
"Quit the jealousy. You jealous of Woo Min-hee?"
"You dumb or what?"
"Earn your size. How long you gonna tote My Melody crap on your bag?"
"No slurping at meals."
Back then, Park Gyu was a razor.
Kim Daram ate beef stone-faced with me, but heard she cried all night after.
True—she transformed scary after.
Ditched people-pleasing jealousy, fixed key-time flubs. Leveraged physique and focus for near-vertical score graph.
Around then, "tall klutz" got "ironwoman" tag.
In a way, this Park Gyu reshaped his junior's personality.
Led to her joining my team later—but that's another tale.
Fate's threads tangled cruelly between us. Knotted against me.
Beep-beep-beep.
What now?
Answer?
Ignore?
Hand off walkie-talkie? Nah—lose contact with Woo Min-hee and others who rely on it.
"..."
Dodging ain't winning.
Hit accept.
But didn't speak first.
Waited for her.
"Park sunbae."
Kim Daram.
"Knew you were alive. Figured you wouldn't die."
After all that, she laughed flatly like nothing happened. I glared at the Chinese sword on the bunker wall, engraved "Invincible."
Damn near died.
Almost for real.
If Kim Pil-seong was sneakier with more kill intent, my story ended ages ago.
"Kim Daram."
Voice laced with disgust, anger.
What can you do?
Can't fool myself anymore.
Shallow sigh over the radio.
"Still mad, huh? I had no choice."
Unclenched my silent fist without thinking.
Remembered her once calling me "baby-faced."
"I was on thin ice too. You know I'm ex-National Crisis Committee? One slip, me, hubby, Dong-tak—all dead."
That's not "aging."
It's gone rotten.
"And you said it yourself, right?"
Lips pursed.
Knew what was coming.
"Good results forgive everything."
"..."
"Results are good now. I'm settled. Yeah. Means I can help you again. You help me, good's good, right? Need anything? Mull it. Call next time."
Transmission cut.
Leaned against wall, eyed nameless bug wriggling on ceiling.
Sighed.
Half mourning the half-corrupted junior.
Half relief she probably won't kill me.
No death soon, at least.
But the bunker's darkness felt heavy for once.
[88. Underclassman] End