The Trap of Mutual Destruction
The guild executives proposed that members team up and move together. They glanced slyly at Nam Gyuil.
'He took down all the orcs that came out of the gate, so if things stay like this, that guy's number one in contributions.'
'Can't let that happen.'
Nam Gyuil noticed the guild executives were checking him. 'They want me hunting solo.'
Moving in groups would kill more orcs than going alone, which was why they'd made the suggestion.
Nam Gyuil didn't argue. Complaining about unfairness would just get him mocked—they wouldn't listen anyway.
'Actually, this might be for the best.'
Sticking with these guys would mean constant interference. Better to go alone. At least no one would drag him down.
Nam Gyuil nodded. "Fine. Team up by faction and move out."
The guild hunters smirked. A few tossed mocking jabs at Nam Gyuil.
"Whoa, so the national hunter's going solo? Poor guy."
"Yeah, why'd he even enter the gate? Should've waited outside like the other national hunters."
Nam Gyuil remained unfazed by the jeers, showing zero interest in their words. Instead, he fired back boldly.
"Then I'll go claim that top spot."
He headed west toward the rocky mountains.
The guild executives sneered at his back.
"Still young, huh?"
"Gutsy or reckless? Hard to say."
"Empty carts make the most noise, right?"
They badmouthed him freely before the guilds teamed up and scattered.
Thus, the real competition began.
Nam Gyuil moved west, memorizing the surroundings. Barren rocky mountains came into view. All dusty yellow, not a blade of grass in sight. The sky was overcast, gray clouds blocking the sun and casting deep shadows.
'Not exactly welcoming.'
Nam Gyuil subtly rolled his eyes left. 'And now I've got a tail.'
It grated on him. He didn't know their goal, but it wasn't welcome.
'Wonder who's following.'
Not orcs. Those brutish monsters wouldn't bother with stealth—they'd charge yelling "Waaargh!!"
Likely one of two: the faction behind opening this gate, or a guild blinded by competition.
'Waiting for an opening to ambush.'
No way he'd let that happen. Nam Gyuil stopped and turned toward his pursuers. They ducked behind rocks, thinking they were still hidden.
Tap, tap.
He broke into a sprint, bounding over stones. His tails matched pace, their presence even more obvious now. No more tailing—it was a full chase, identities be damned.
Nam Gyuil glanced back. 'Big guild guys.'
Black panther emblem on their armor. Unmistakably Presento Guild.
He tapped the Memorial Jewel on his finger to activate it. Everything from now on would be recorded.
He stopped midway up the mountain and glared at them.
"Why are you following me?"
A Presento Guild executive stepped forward as spokesman.
"If you take down the boss monster, you'd snag first place, right?"
"That's your reason for tailing me?"
"Yeah. You need to go down here."
The executives snickered. Nam Gyuil sighed.
"Harsh words. Planning to kill me?"
"Quick on the uptake."
"Murder's heavily punished in court."
They burst out laughing, eyeing him like a naive kid.
"Hey, Nam Gyuil. You're pretty innocent, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"Kill you? No evidence left. This is a gate. Smash the core, it closes—your body and proof vanish. Our word's all that matters."
Nam Gyuil frowned. They knew evidence disposal too well.
"You've done this before?"
"Obviously."
His stomach churned. People suffered from monsters, yet these bastards... National hunters' survival rate for full discharge was just 37%. Soldiers died in gates. Civilian property and lives were wrecked.
And they admitted killing in gates for profit?
Utterly unforgivable. Incomprehensible. Even for self-interest, was it worth it?
Nam Gyuil ground his teeth. 'Greed has limits!!'
Scum like them living high... The world had gone mad.
He gripped his longsword tightly. The executives scoffed.
"Taking us on alone?"
"We're seven. You're one."
True. But with mana sword and magic, he had a shot—they didn't know about the magic. Still, he'd take wounds, burn stamina. No good against the boss.
He needed the boss kill and core smash for undisputed first.
So he schemed. Nam Gyuil paused the Memorial Jewel—only their murder threat recorded. He swept back his hair and gave advice.
"You made a mistake."
"What?"
"Thought you set the trap? Opposite."
He pointed at them. "You're the ones caught!"
Then he bolted at full speed.
Shouts erupted from both sides.
"Waaargh-!!"
"Waaargh!!"
Orc war cries. He'd headed west immediately for a reason: orcs lived in these mountains. They favored high ground, especially defensible spots like this.
"Wh-what?!"
The executives cursed at the swarming orcs. Over fifty, easy. One with a golden shield stood out—bigger, eyes gleaming with murder. The boss: Orc Champion. Strongest fighter.
It wouldn't forgive intruders. Rumble rumble.
Orcs charged down screaming. Executives tried fleeing but dodged sudden flying rocks, halting.
"What the?!"
"Damn it, rocks out of nowhere!!"
They panicked. Nam Gyuil had conjured and launched them with magic, blocking escape.
The executives gaped at his magic—untouched power.
Nam Gyuil called out coolly. "Looks like your rotten personalities are about to match your shattered lifelines. Congrats, seniors."
"What?!"
"Survive, and I'll send you to dog training school. Perfect for dog-shit personalities like yours."
Peak provocation. Not his style usually, but cathartic for trash like them.
Blocked by his interference, they were encircled.
"Waaargh!!"
"Waaaargh-!!"
Orc cries echoed. They had to fight for survival—no time for Nam Gyuil.
"Damn it all!"
Curses flew. Nam Gyuil slipped the encirclement, hid, and watched leisurely. No orcs chased him—good.
Clang.
Blades clashed. Orcs attacked. All per his plan. Orcs and executives fought to mutual ruin.
"Waaargh!!"
One orc fell to an executive. The Orc Champion targeted them, blocking with golden shield and smashing ribs with its hammer. Monstrous strength—victim launched skyward, crashing, convulsing, vomiting blood.
"Shit."
More curses as a comrade fell. Music to Nam Gyuil's ears. Facing orcs plus Champion was brutal, but perfect: orc numbers dwindling, executives dying to Champion.
Then balance tipped.
Squish!
An executive wounded the Champion's shoulder deeply. Nam Gyuil drew his staff. 'No good. Need mutual destruction, not a winner.'
Rock flew like a cannonball.
"Arghhh!"
Heavy impact—one executive screamed, knee shattered, immobile.
Splat!
Orc Champion's hammer pulverized his head. Dead.
"Nam Gyuil, you bastard!!"
Survivors' eyes bloodshot, rage boiling.
"Waaargh!!"
Champion gained edge. Nam Gyuil disrupted it. 'Mutual destruction, not victory.'
Flames shot. Red heat scorched its back.
"Grrk!!"
Champion screamed. Executives exploited, wounding it.
Nam Gyuil relentlessly steered the fight. He controlled life, death, victory, defeat. They were his pawns.
The bloodbath ended. Regular orcs all corpses.
"S-save…."
Last executive crawled, whimpering.
Splat!!
Orc Champion's hammer crushed his skull.
Huff huff huff.
Champion panted. An easy fight dragged hellishly thanks to Nam Gyuil. Wounds everywhere, ragged state.
Nam Gyuil stepped out boldly, facing it. Just them now.
Champion looked beatable, but no. Akashic Records taught him better.
'Orc Champion has a special ability.'
On that golden shield: Berserk. Lost reason for massive combat boost, one minute. Trigger: near-death body state.
It qualified.
"Waaargh-!!"
Champion roared, activating. Odd patterns on shield, body turned blood-red. Eyes glowed crimson.
"Waaargh!!"
Cries louder. Nam Gyuil raised his sword.
The true battle began.
"No worries," Nam Gyuil muttered.
'Berserk has a fatal flaw anyway.'