Absolutely Not Coming Back
A resignation letter, with the writer and approver the same—absolutely not coming back—sat on the desk. Park Jaeyoung let out a scoff of disbelief, stamped it, and set it back down. Precisely on top of the keyboard. It was in a spot no one could miss once they sat there.
The time was 11:55 p.m. In just five minutes, he'd be done with the Hunter Association too. Leaving eight years behind, he'd become a free man.
Shame I won't be able to come to the office anymore. Over the past eight years, Park Jaeyoung had spent more time in this office than at home. Work, eat, work some more, catch a nap. Going home once a week was a big deal—and even then, after late-night overtime. Vacations? Nonexistent. Holidays? He came in. The space more familiar than home was now farewell too. The table for delivery food, the sofa for quick shut-eye, the bookshelf overflowing with reports, the fridge stocked with booze, the chaotic desk. Park Jaeyoung slowly took in the office scenery.
Honestly, stepping down as president wasn't regrettable, but not being able to use the office anymore? That stung a little. It was the most comfortable space he had.
58 minutes. Park Jaeyoung checked his watch. Time to really go. He left the office, took the elevator to the lobby, and headed quickly for the exit.
"Where are you going?"
He ran into Vice President Kim Minseo.
"Heading home for the first time in ages."
"You sold your place last month."
"Bought a new one."
"The guy who hasn't gone home once since then?"
"Told my secretary to handle it."
"No one mentioned that."
Park Jaeyoung sighed.
"Minseo, can't I even leave when I want?"
Kim Minseo fell silent. Park Jaeyoung brushed past, grabbing the door handle. At that moment, she spoke up.
"If you leave, sir, the Association could collapse tomorrow and no one would be surprised."
"The Hunter Association—or Korea itself—isn't that fragile."
"It won't run as smoothly without you."
Park Jaeyoung turned to face her. Three years ago, when he discovered Kim Minseo, he'd been thrilled. Finally, a successor to hand the presidency to.
"I'm still so lacking. The vice president role alone is killing me."
Three years had passed since. Kim Minseo had rotated through key positions to rise to vice president.
"If you can't trust yourself, trust me—the one who put you there. And hey, I'm human too. I need a break."
Kim Minseo stared in disbelief.
What does she think I am, anyway?
Park Jaeyoung chuckled dryly and pushed open the door. As he stepped out, Kim Minseo shouted at his back.
"You have to come back!"
Park Jaeyoung raised his right hand without turning, but his thoughts were different.
Why the hell would I?
Finally free from the headache of Association business. No way he'd volunteer for hell.
Guilds, government, villains—all goodbye.
As a kid, Park Jaeyoung had one show he loved obsessively. Not a variety program or drama, oddly enough—a documentary. The premise: the host visits people living in remote wilderness, so-called "natural folk." They spend days together—eating, chatting, farming, whatever. To fourth-grade Park Jaeyoung, those natural folk looked so cool. No nagging, just leisurely living. It stuck deep.
Every time school asked for future hopes, he wrote that. Right through middle and high school. Teachers dismissed it as a joke—except his high school homeroom teacher in senior year.
Anyway, the show that ran over ten years ended abruptly. The day before the Cataclysm that upended everything.
Monsters appearing across the entire Korean Peninsula
[Ministry of the Interior and Safety]
Evacuate to designated shelters immediately
Society crumbled, countless died. No room for TV shows—disaster broadcasts took over.
Even now, with society rebuilding—variety shows and dramas booming—that program never returned. No wonder Park Jaeyoung thought:
Should I invest and revive it?
Not a ridiculous idea. Back then, he was treated like a walking conglomerate. He had the cash to buy a network outright. No opposition to an acquisition.
But his dream stayed a pipe dream. Finding a PD to run it and a network was secondary—no natural folk to feature. Obvious, really. Who'd live in monster-infested mountains? Unlucky, and you'd face thousands—tough even for strong hunters. Only high-ranks survived; others died like dogs.
High-rank hunters? Greed incarnate. They pretend to follow rules now. Post-Cataclysm? Chaos. Park Jaeyoung had been ambushed plenty—though he turned them to corpses. Such people content with simple joys?
No way in hell.
Park Jaeyoung bet his fortune on it. The rare exceptions needed tying to society. So he shelved the dream for later. Someday. If it came.
But today, stepping down as president—he'd become the natural folk himself.
From then, he'd raced to build a system troll-proof beyond one person's whims. Success let him step back six months ago. No issues. Impossible three, four years back. Now, he was sure he could leave.
And today. Long-cherished wish fulfilled.
Post-Cataclysm, Korea's biggest change: Uninhabited Zones. Eastern Chungbuk—Chungju, Goesan. Northern Gyeongbuk—Mungyeong, Yecheon. Western Gangwon. Vast lands, officially empty. Gate Breaks chained, monsters overran them.
Deep in one such zone, at the Wolaksan Foothills—Park Jaeyoung's destination. A valley feeding Chungjuho Lake, with a nice flat clearing. Prime spot.
Park Jaeyoung belted along to the speaker's tunes, climbing. No trails—bushwhacking. A few orcs blocked; footing crumbled now and then. Nothing stopped him.
"Almost there."
Over that peak ahead, probably. He stepped forward.
Grrrooowl! His stomach demanded food.
Break time.
As president, meals were rushed or cafeteria slop. Now? Time galore. Lunch and nap first, then go.
Park Jaeyoung dropped his backpack, drew the dagger at his waist, swung. Blade aura surged, clearing the area.
Thud! A massive tree toppled, stump-only. But meal prep wasn't done. Soon, noise would draw monsters.
Trolls x4, giant bear x1, orcs aplenty appeared.
Park Jaeyoung slashed horizontally with his right hand. Monsters halved mid-charge. Then—
Whoosh! White flames erased them traceless.
Silence returned. Prep complete.
Park Jaeyoung unpacked onto the log: instant noodle bowl, foil-packed kimbap, thermos of hot water, chilled cola, wooden chopsticks. Perfect hike fare.
He sat on the log, tore open the noodles, dumped the spice, poured hot water. Likes 'em chewy—two minutes. Pinned with kimbap, popped the cola.
Fizz! Gulp gulp!
Sun beat down the climb. Cold liquid hit throat—blissful sigh escaped.
"Ahh...!"
The rush after soloing an SS-rank gate. Felt it from one cola sip. Quitting was the best call.
Absolutely not coming back.
No reinstatement thoughts. Not even if begged.