The Chicken Bait
Lieutenant Colonel Park Heeryeong stepped up to the podium.
"Commendation to 01 Team Leader Nam Gyuil of the Seoul Hunter Agency. For significant contributions to national security through flawless mission execution, thereby elevating the prestige of national hunters, this commendation is hereby awarded."
The above individual has made significant contributions to national security and has greatly elevated the prestige of national hunters through flawless mission performance. Therefore, this commendation is awarded.
"Thank you, sir."
Nam Gyuil, standing across from Park Heeryeong, snapped a salute.
Hunter Agencies from various regions awarded commendations and bonuses to their standout teams. Naturally, Seoul's was 01 Team. They'd shattered accident-free records, slain the most monsters, and even supported the Chungcheong Hunter Agency in taking down a Werebeast. Without him, the damage from that beast would've been catastrophic.
Thanks to all that, 01 Team's reputation had skyrocketed.
Everyone received envelopes containing their commendations and bonuses. With Park Heeryeong's words of "good work" ringing in their ears, the team stepped down from the stage and headed back to their office.
Lee Chanu grinned mischievously.
"Heh heh heh, wonder what the bonus is? Cash would be nice."
"That good, huh?" Hwang Ilsu chuckled softly.
Lee Chanu nodded vigorously, still grinning. "Of course! What's better than scoring a bonus in this world? Right?"
"Can't do a thing with this guy..." Hwang Ilsu shrugged helplessly, shaking his head.
Hong Shinu glanced at Nam Gyuil. "We only got this bonus because of Sergeant Nam Gyuil. You're the top contributor, aren't you, sir?"
Then Han Kangsu chimed in. "Sergeant Nam's feats are incredible. It's not just fighting—he's incredibly knowledgeable too. I've never seen anyone with such deep monster expertise, even in guilds."
Praise for Nam Gyuil echoed from all around.
"Hey, enough already. You're just pumping me up for nothing. Cut the goosebump-inducing flattery," Nam Gyuil waved them off.
Lee Chanu thrust up a thumbs-up and shook his bonus envelope. "Our team's MVP should open his first. Gotta let the underlings check it out, yeah?" His tone dripped with playfulness.
Nam Gyuil tore open the envelope and checked the contents.
"!!"
He was speechless. Pulling out a single check, he stared. It was for 100 million won—about the size of a national hunter's annual salary.
Lee Chanu's jaw dropped. The check gleamed like pure gold. He hurriedly ripped open his own envelope. Sure enough, a 100 million won check inside.
"I'm rich!!" Lee Chanu whooped, jumping around the room before drifting into fantasies. What to spend it on? Fancy hotel, pricey wine?
His lips stretched ear-to-ear—until Han Kangsu poured cold water. "What, just 100 million?"
Han Kangsu flapped his check dismissively, muttering like it was pocket change. "Can't even buy a Gangnam apartment with that. Calling this chump change a bonus."
His family was loaded. Their Gangnam apartments alone topped 3.5 billion won each, and they dropped 300,000 won per meal like it was nothing. To him, 100 million was peanuts.
Lee Chanu shot him a side-eye and grumbled. "Flaunting your wealth much?"
He eyed his check again. For poor folks like him, it was a fortune. But after Han Kangsu's words...
'Doesn't feel like big money anymore.'
Saving up was hell, but 100 million wouldn't even buy a home. Sighing, Lee Chanu tucked the check into his wallet.
That's when Nam Gyuil found something else in his envelope.
"What's that?"
He pulled out a black card.
◈ Entry to the elite SB Auction House
◈ Access to high-end items, gate-sourced plants, and gourmet feasts by Michelin-star chefs
◈ Restricted to the upper class—minimum bid 100 million won
Nam Gyuil stared at the SB Admission Ticket. SB was the premier auction house for gate-sourced items. Rare artifacts, gate plants—all up for grabs. Attendees were all filthy rich, politically connected elites. Most consignors were big guild masters. Even junk sold for over 100 million there.
SB's owner proudly limited it to the elite, selling tickets for 10 million won each. No poor folks allowed. Minimum bids started at 100 million, so averages were way higher. Commoners couldn't win bids anyway.
But entry alone was life-changing. 'The only place where regular folks can mingle with the upper crust.'
Eavesdrop on their chatter, snag insider info, make a killing. Or just enjoy the free Michelin-level feasts if networking wasn't your thing.
Nam Gyuil liked the ticket. 'Way better than the 100 million check.'
Meeting elites for intel was priceless. Play it right, unlock invaluable knowledge. 'Useful later.'
He pocketed it, reading between the lines. 'Here's 100 million and a ticket—buy your own monster-hunting gear.'
Lee Chanu spotted his own SB ticket and yelled excitedly. "SB ticket?! Chance to chow down on five-star hotel grub!! Man, time to feast!"
The glutton was thrilled at the fancy food prospect.
"The food there's legit delicious," Han Kangsu agreed this time. He'd gone once with his dad—the rib steak was to die for.
"Whoa, I wanna try it for real," Hong Shinu said, eyes sparkling.
No one seemed interested in networking for info.
Nam Gyuil smirked inwardly. 'Kids are innocent, or just food-obsessed?'
Not a bad sight, though.
Then—ring ring, ring ring. The desk intercom blared.
Nam Gyuil pressed a finger to his lips, silencing the team. They zipped it instantly.
He picked up. "Secure comms, Seoul Hunter Agency 01 Team Leader Nam Gyuil speaking."
"Secure comms, it's Park Heeryeong."
"Sir, yes sir!!" Nam Gyuil bellowed.
Park Heeryeong chuckled. "Haha, yeah. Just wanted to see you quick."
"On my way now, sir."
"Good, good. Oh, by the way..."
"Sir!!"
"Our Gyuil, you like chicken? Got pizza too."
Nam Gyuil tilted his head. Why ask about food out of nowhere?
"Love both chicken and pizza, sir."
"Really? Speak up if you want anything else. Price no object."
"No, sir."
"Then get to my office now."
"Roger."
Nam Gyuil hung up, puzzled. Why the summons? Awards were done—no more rewards. 'Probing the accident-free streak?' Nah, he'd already spun a convincing excuse.
Something felt off. Like bad news incoming.
He sighed deeply, scratched his head, and stepped into the hall. 'What's the worst that could happen?'
At Park Heeryeong's door, savory chicken scent wafted through the crack.
Knock knock knock.
"Come in."
"Sergeant Nam Gyuil reporting as ordered, sir."
"Yeah, come on in, Gyuil."
Pushing the door open, Park Heeryeong greeted him warmly. Nam Gyuil hid his unease. 'Ugh, vibe's too strong.'
Park gestured to the sofa. "Sit, Gyuil."
"..."
"Chicken's gonna get cold."
No choice—Nam Gyuil sat. Felt like sitting on thorns. And why the sudden "our Gyuil" chumminess?
He fidgeted. Park pointed at the chicken. "Dig in. Grab a drumstick."
"Thank you, sir."
Nam Gyuil bit into the drumstick. But his stomach churned. 'Why this? Why the kindness? Prelude to bad news.'
'What bomb's he dropping?!'
Chicken tasted like rocks now. Park's smiling face grated—pure discomfort.
Then, out of nowhere: "So, Gyuil. Plans after discharge? Career set?"
Nam Gyuil eyed him warily, like a porcupine bristling. "Thinking of starting a guild, sir."
"Oh, nice. Good for you." Park beamed, patting his shoulder. "You've got just over three months left, right?"
"Yes, sir. Discharge soon."
"Love that drive to form a guild and close gates."
"Thank you, sir."
"But guild-making's basically starting a business, yeah?" Park's tone softened further.
Nam Gyuil sensed ulterior motives, stumbling. "Y... yes, sir."
"Gonna be tough. Competing with big guilds too."
"Yes, sir."
"Wouldn't a stable salary, pension, no layoff worries be better?"
"?!"
Nam Gyuil's eyes widened. No way—then Park dropped it.
"How about signing up for long-term Hunter Agency service? Gate ops included."
"Pardon?"
"Try long-term service at the Agency."
Now it clicked why the summon—and the drumstick. 'Trying to lock me in long-term.'
Bitter as mugwort, despite the chicken. No way. Tons to do post-discharge—couldn't stay chained. Long-term meant following orders, no free moves.
Park smiled benevolently. "Where else am I gonna find a smart kid like you? Agency needs you to run smooth."
He was convincing hard. Hated losing Nam Gyuil to discharge. 01 Team's perfect record was thanks to him and Han Kangsu—especially Nam as the brains. Han had time left, but Nam was imminent. Had to retain him.
Nam Gyuil set down the drumstick like a poisoned chalice.
"Lieutenant Colonel Park Heeryeong, sir."
"Yeah?"
"I've got too much to do after discharge. Long-term service isn't possible."
Park said no more. Instead, he slipped an application into Nam Gyuil's pocket, patting his back like he trusted him to decide right.
But Nam Gyuil's resolve was ironclad.
"I won't do long-term service."