Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: The Man Who Became Light (1)
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John_nenon.
He's in his mid-30s now, real name Gu Ssanghyeo, a D-rank hunter by old-school standards.
Not from my school.
He trained at a professional academy and earned his hunter license—what they call an academy hunter.
These days, unless you're Awakened, it doesn't matter if you're from a school or an academy; everyone's treated like relics of the past.
What happened to that John_nenon?
Some say he's dead. Others insist he's alive.
One thing's for sure: he rode the fame he got from the bulletin board into lecture tours, and like those kinds of people do, he leveraged his notoriety to rake in even more money hand over fist.
When he faced backlash on the board for unauthorized reposts, the backdrop to his lion-like roar of "lucky hunch" wasn't just disappointment in the community—it was mostly his massive wealth.
By the time I returned to the board, John_nenon had stopped doing lectures altogether.
Rumor had it our teacher John_nenon was now offering custom doomsday survival packages to chaebol heirs and power brokers.
That moneybags John_nenon vanished completely after the war broke out.
Some speculated a showman like him had probably bought a new account and was lurking as a sub-account, but no one ever pinned it down.
It's been two years and five months since the war began.
Just as the long, nightmarish cold spell finally lifted and a spring chillier than usual settled in—a spring I thought I'd never see my role model again in—he popped up out of nowhere like magic.
Anyway, what the hell is this guy's nickname?
If it's John_nenon, it's got that signature cheeky flair, but was the man even that tall?
For something boasted like that, it's not exactly a lightweight build. Even if he's bulked up with muscle, can you maintain that in this era?
And what's with the 18cm? What the...?
Even before the war, could people be this insane?
Regardless, this guy claiming to use John_nenon's sub-account gave me plenty to chew on.
For starters, John_nenon must be in Seoul.
He said he'd share the exact location if I wanted.
But why now? And why send a subtle message through a subordinate instead of the man himself?
I pressed this 18cm character for details, but he dodged, saying he was just the messenger for John_nenon.
What John_nenon wanted seemed to be a meeting with me.
But in this day and age? With pioneers spreading everywhere, moving around?
Not easy.
The government's not controlling roads like before. Everything's chaos—traveling could straight-up mean death.
I sent a polite refusal, then messaged another user.
The recipient: Foxgames.
The game dev who made that Christmas tree decorating thing back in the day.
The old me wouldn't have even tried.
He's a named user; with Unicorn18, I was bottom-tier.
But after the super-ultra incident, my standing rose, and I gained some confidence.
Sure enough, Foxgames happily obliged.
My request was simple: find out who decorated my Christmas tree.
Nothing last year, but two years ago, someone hung an ornament labeled "John_nenon" on it.
I was curious but didn't dwell.
Anonymous decoration, slight rapport with John_nenon, figured maybe someone imitating him left it.
But with this self-proclaimed subordinate of vanished John_nenon showing up, time to verify.
Moments later, Foxgames revealed the culprit.
Spot on. The very 18cm guy messaging me now.
I thanked him, feeling the old bulletin board warmth.
Something he wanted to ask me?
What could it be?
Half worried, half curious, Foxgames messaged back.
The community's slower, sure.
But as long as we can still post text and pics, isn't that enough?
Not being able to upload Skeleton's beatbox series hurts, but expecting the board to stay pristine while everything else crumbles feels a bit entitled.
Foxgames had his own reason for caring about speed, though.
MMORPG.
Like a multiplayer online game?
Not big on games, so I don't know much, but if casual-game maestro Foxgames calls it his ace, it'll probably blow up.
Be a huge morale boost for us weary users, too.
Anyway, mystery solved: John_nenon was here, on the tree.
*
John_nenon's survival was surprising, sure.
But it didn't hit home. No reason to make a fuss.
What can I say—underwhelmed.
Reality was too harsh to cling to past role models.
Jo Sungyong hadn't sniffed out my turf yet, but drones buzzed overhead constantly, and ominous gunfire echoed from the north.
Sporadic shots, but from different directions, spaced out—like two hostile groups in a standoff.
The sniper side seemed antsy too; messages rolled in daily checking on us.
Daughter sends the messages.
Mom's too sloppy with Korean; smart kid steps in to check on us.
My request.
Rebecca has no personal ID, so public freq comms. Against heavyweights like Jo Sungyong, radio waves risk eavesdropping.
But encrypted satellite signals? Untappable.
Text chats have limits, they say.
Convenient, but misses the emotion and warmth in a voice—half a conversation.
But if you're not used to that warmth, maybe a little distance is better?
Like confessionals.
Good call grabbing the scholar's laptop and sat gear.
Bridging the gap with the distant sniper family.
But the scholar's gift wasn't just that.
Internet means sending photos words alone can't capture.
Su sent one.
"......"
I doubted my eyes.
A grayish-white glow eerily lit the abandoned woods.
Monster.
A monster had pushed right up to my turf, eroding the edges.
Where from?
Anywhere possible.
Korea's rifts: four total.
Paju, Yangsan, Gochang, Jeju.
Yangsan and Gochang milder than Paju.
Weaker rifts, local militaries avoided civil war, held lines, became warlords.
That monster? Definitely north.
Or straight from North Korea.
Two days.
Not long.
Small-type settlers from sniper's view.
Only settlers build nests, defy Earth's will to survive.
Monsters' scariest part isn't combat power.
Their danger is their existence.
Good school example:
Humans build factory somewhere.
Emits smoke, wastewater; local animals, plants die.
Factory didn't kill them on purpose.
Just byproduct of production.
Same principle.
Monsters taint everything around their turf with their hue.
Mutations most common otherworld shade.
Kyle_Dos went mad absorbing that shade fully.
Can't ignore one near my area.
Leave it, and it'll erode faster than Seoul.
I know Xinjiang rift expanded thousands times faster than Beijing's.
*
Old-era hunters mostly faced small-types.
Most shredded by overwhelming artillery from afar, no chance to react.
Some teleported or lucked into bases.
Once inside, few options.
Their reflex fields block our weapons.
When soldiers panic, that's hunter time.
Hunters aren't soldiers.
Cover's survival for vets; for us, like closing eyes to incoming blade.
Hunter hunts demand fluid teamwork, pinpoint precision, iron guts.
Like Joseon gunners with matchlocks vs. house-sized tigers—we stake luck and life killing human foes bare-eyed before death.
In that realm, once top-tier me handles nearly all small-types.
Just solve approach, I solo most.
Lucky Viva! Apocalypse! spotted it early.
Settlers take half-month to fortify.
Fortified, near-impossible to breach or even approach.
Two days? Week tops? Doable.
Jo Sungyong's drones still patrol, pioneers inbound anytime—that's why I bolted from bunker.
"There!"
Rebecca, bags under eyes, pointed to mountains 4km from her turf.
Looks normal.
Definite.
Recent nest.
Rebecca's ace sniper, zero big-monster experience.
She'd just get in way.
Her sniping might kill her.
This is my fight.
What I do best. What I craved.
Just my honed twin axes, crept toward it slow.
Deep in, branches twisted weird.
Erosion effect.
Human foe there.
Barring one exception, I'd kill and leave.
"......"
I see it.
Statue-like amid withered winter trees.
Mantis forelegs with huge awl jammed in, lower half sharp triangle half-buried, long gray-white head—no eyes, nose, mouth, no emotion organs.
One exception hit.
Dancer type.
Only one I can't kill up close.
Or... maybe.
But not betting everything on 5% odds.
*
"......"
Staring at radio after inputting ID: 15 minutes gone.
Only realistic help: Woo Min-hee.
Only she can aid.
I need hunter gear—anti-monster weapons. But if she comes, she'd rip it solo.
She's Awakened.
Level 12 high-grade psychic, no less.
But I'm not fool enough to ignore what begging her means.
She's not Kim Daram.
Not that Kim Daram whose voice I barely recall now...
"......"
Logged into community for breather.
Hunt funny post, calm nerves, sort thoughts.
Message waiting.
"Fuck."
That John_nenon subordinate again.
If time allowed, I'd chat.
Not now.
He's past.
Can't solve present crisis.
No more back-and-forth, so I made outrageous demand.
Specified exact model to avoid bullshit.
Block if nonsense.
I'm on edge.