A Picnic-Like Escape
Han Si-Eun, the youngest S-class hunter.
Her ability was Acceleration. It accelerated both body and mind at once, letting her move and think far faster than anyone else.
For an ordinary hunter, a superpower was a decisive trump card. It could not be sustained for long, so it was saved for critical moments; most monster subjugations relied on firearms. But Han Si-Eun was S-class. Among the Awakened already called superhumans, she was a true superhuman. That was why she could keep her ability running and casually dismantle the Nova members who had terrorized the party hall. In the process she had even gleaned the useful fact that her opponents belonged to Nova.
“Everyone, you can come out now.”
Having lightly put down the Nova she had just run into again, Si-Eun called to the people still hiding in the brightest voice she could manage. They were the hotel staff who had been cut off with her when the explosions hit. She kept her tone deliberately bright not because she enjoyed killing. Reaching S-class simply rewired a person’s priorities. Even someone known as kind and gentle could weigh lives and pull the trigger in a crisis. That was what it meant to be an S-class Awakened called a true superhuman. And that was why her cheerful voice could still soothe the ordinary hotel employees who had been cowering nearby.
These people were nothing like the elite, almost military-grade staff one saw at Lumen. They were ordinary workers.
“Th-thank you for your hard work.”
“You don’t have to look so nervous. I’m the one relying on you for directions, after all.”
When the first explosion went off, Si-Eun had bolted toward Jeong-Hoon. Successive blasts, however, kept her from reaching him. Her power was acceleration, not teleportation. So she was now guiding the isolated staff toward the basement in exchange for their protection—using their knowledge of the building as the pretext. The moment the terror began, her objective had locked onto rescuing Jeong-Hoon.
Nova were fanatics who preached that the Awakened were the new humanity and that the world should belong to them alone. To them, Non-Awakened were obsolete leftovers, lesser creatures that could be slaughtered whenever convenient. Because they were that kind of group, Si-Eun fretted over Jeong-Hoon, who was Non-Awakened. They were friends; friendship alone was reason enough to worry and go after him. And if Jeong-Hoon died, the world would plunge into chaos. She had not heard the full details of the seal, but she was no fool—she understood what the word implied. He was the man who quietly held the world together simply by existing; therefore he had to be protected. On top of that, though their meeting had been brief, he was the person her precious unnie So-Hyeon had entrusted to her before leaving. She would rescue him no matter what.
“Hunter Han Si-Eun, shouldn’t you rest soon?”
“…No, I’m fine.”
When worry for Jeong-Hoon clouded her face, the staff grew concerned. They had no idea her real goal was rescuing him; they simply assumed she had chosen the basement because it led to the parking-lot exits. The talk of needing directions was, in their eyes, just the kindhearted hunter’s way of putting them at ease.
“But if anything happens to you, Hunter Han…”
They fretted, yet Si-Eun only shook her head and started forward again—then suddenly raised a hand.
“Hold on. I hear fighting from that direction.”
The staff scrambled into cover. Si-Eun approached carefully, listening.
A wire hissed through the air. Then came a wet, gurgling death-rattle. The sound of a body launching off a wall, a dagger spinning, and the muted cough of a suppressed pistol. Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sequence of motions was so fluid that the three falling bodies almost overlapped. For a second she thought several attackers had ambushed three men at once. No—every sound of the takedown had come from a single person. Whoever had just killed three men was an absurdly skilled fighter. Physical ability might be D-class at best, yet combat sense rivaled Han Si-Eun’s… or surpassed it. As a hunter who had watched countless others move, she could read that much from sound alone.
Could it be a Nova assassin?
Nova fielded assassins—Awakened who married overwhelming physical power with every murder technique humanity had ever refined. The sort of killers who belonged in movies. If the opponent really was that caliber of assassin, her only option was to hit first with acceleration and end it.
She triggered her ability. The world slowed; more precisely, she became faster. Using that speed she rounded the corner and snapped a fist toward the figure coming the other way. An acceleration-boosted punch hit harder than most firearms.
“Wh-what?!”
At the last instant Han Si-Eun wrenched the punch’s trajectory aside. The moment she saw the face of the “assassin” who had just erased three men, she had no choice.
“Hunter Han Si-Eun?”
“Chairman Lee Jeong-Hoon?”
Their voices crossed as the forcibly redirected fist skimmed past Jeong-Hoon’s face. Even a corrected acceleration punch carried monstrous force, but Jeong-Hoon—already wary of the corner—had leaned his upper body back in time and slipped it.
“A-are you all right?!”
“…”
The real problem was residual force. Even after dodging, the aftershock lingered.
“I-I’m fine.”
“R-really?”
“For a second I heard my parents telling me it wasn’t my time yet, but I’m okay.”
Having just had a near-death experience from a mere graze, Jeong-Hoon shook his head.
“How is the Chairman even here?”
“I was at the party, remember? We even shared wine.”
Once Jeong-Hoon’s head had cleared, Si-Eun asked; he only shrugged.
“N-no, I mean you fell into the basement!”
“I climbed back up.”
The casual claim that he had fought his way alone through a Nova-occupied hotel made Si-Eun finally look him over properly. The formal suit from the party was gone. In its place he wore a full-body Kevlar combat suit studded with protectors, a sidearm, and enough gear to arm a small team. Anyone who did not know him would have sworn a counter-terror unit had already deployed.
“That suit?”
“I changed. You can’t fight Nova in a tuxedo.”
Changing clothes implied he had brought the suit and equipment in the first place. Si-Eun briefly wondered whether anyone normally packed for a party like this, then dismissed the thought. This was Lee Jeong-Hoon—chairman of Lumen, a man who spent astronomical sums like pocket change and quietly guarded the world. Of course he would have prepared for contingencies.
“You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?”
“This isn’t my blood.”
“Any escorts nearby?”
“I wish.”
Si-Eun felt genuine relief that her objective was unharmed. Still, the sight of Jeong-Hoon emerging from Nova territory alone, spattered with blood and without a single bodyguard, made his skill feel almost unreal.
Reunited with Han Si-Eun, Jeong-Hoon finally allowed himself a breath. Ammunition and gear were running low; grenades remained, but he was not foolish enough to detonate them inside a building already riddled with blast holes. With Si-Eun at his side, however, the worst pressure eased. The release of tension was inevitable.
“Um… are you a hunter?”
“Hey! That’s Chairman Lee Jeong-Hoon!”
One staffer stepped forward with the question; another yanked him back at once. Jeong-Hoon had been on the news often enough lately that the lack of recognition surprised him. He produced a business-card case from inside the suit.
“Uh, I’m this person.”
He offered a card. The staffer took it, rubbed his eyes, and went pale.
“I-I’m so sorry, Chairman Lee Jeong-Hoon!”
“It’s fine. Lumen is famous—I’m not.”
Jeong-Hoon’s gentle reassurance only made the man tremble harder. The hotel hosting the party, while not Lumen’s otherworldly standard, was still five-star. Working its ballroom meant one was already a successful hotelier. Failing to recognize the chairman of the global Lumen chain was a professional nightmare.
“This friend has weak eyes, Chairman. Please allow me to apologize as well.”
“No, really—these things happen.”
While the staff fell over themselves apologizing, Jeong-Hoon soothed them and quietly distributed cards. In any other context the scene would have looked like a hotel mogul casually head-hunting talent only to be turned down. Watching the surreal exchange, Si-Eun drifted closer.
“Chairman Lee?”
“Yes? Something wrong?”
When he turned, she scanned his outfit again. From any angle it belonged on a dungeon raider or a counter-terror operator, not a businessman.
“Why exactly do you keep business cards in that suit?”
“Because even dressed like this I might need to exchange cards?”
The half-answer made her think he was a businessman down to the marrow.
“Chairman… doesn’t killing weigh on you at all?”
“Strangely, no. Maybe because the situation’s extreme?”
Even Si-Eun, who lived on the edge of life and death against monsters, still felt the resistance of taking human lives. Jeong-Hoon’s calm surprised her. This was the same man who had nearly fainted when the Odyssey Guild Master’s head exploded in front of him. Yet the composure was not a bad thing—better than her own forced nonchalance. A small sigh slipped out.
“Huh? Feeling tight-chested?”
“No, just… a little sigh.”
“Can’t have you short of breath. Here.”
He unclipped a canteen from the small of his back and held it out.
“You brought a water bottle too?”
“If water’s not your thing I’ve got brandy. Actually, that might loosen the nerves better—”
“Chairman, you didn’t come to the party for a survival exercise, did you?”
Jeong-Hoon froze mid-offer of the brandy flask. Butler Joo’s packing had been so convenient he had forgotten how thoroughly over-equipped he was. The load-out assumed the ballroom would be attacked.
“Uh, well, that is…”
“And what is that suit, exactly?”
She already knew he had changed; now she wanted the suit’s identity.
“A physical-enhancement suit developed by a company that partners with Lumen. Still a prototype, so commercial production is a ways off, but perfect for self-defense—so I brought it.”
“You came fully prepared…”
“Well, Hunter Han, you know my circumstances.”
Under her scrutiny he averted his eyes and offered the lamest possible excuse. It was also the most believable one. He could hardly say, “I couldn’t refuse what the butler packed just in case.” In front of Si-Eun alone he might have, but saying it publicly would make Chairman Lee Jeong-Hoon of Lumen look like a puppet of Director Butler Joo.
“Plus I had some intelligence.”
“Intelligence?”
“That someone might target this party. Honestly the odds were fifty-fifty—no, less than half—but better safe than sorry.”
He simply lied outright. Who would argue with “I packed because there was a chance of terrorism”? They could ask why he hadn’t reported it, yet before the attack no one—not even the family—had seriously considered the possibility. Claiming he had kept quiet because there was no one he could trust sounded almost reasonable.
“You came alone to something that dangerous?!”
“I was busy on my end. Skipping the party would’ve been awkward, so I came solo.”
Si-Eun looked appalled, but Jeong-Hoon judged the cover solid enough. From another pocket he produced energy bars, chocolate, and candy.
“So… want some? Premium stuff, carefully selected ingredients. Should suit your taste…”
“…This is a picnic-like escape.”
Reaching for an energy bar, Si-Eun let out a quiet laugh.