Mama Katsu Bunny Girl (5)
There was an aftermath.
The child I had pulled out of the kids’ café.
Yoon Saebit finally got through to his father.
“Saebit! Saebit!”
“Dad?”
“Yeah, it’s Dad. Dad’s right here. You must’ve been so scared. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Dad… I was with Mom, but she left and never came back.”
“Okay. When we get home, Dad will tell you everything, nice and slow. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
Time inside an anomaly does not flow in lockstep with the real world.
Outside, Yoon Saebit had already been missing for more than ten days.
The hours he had spent alone, hiding inside that box, had been only a few.
All things considered, this had been an unlucky case.
The moment the reunion ended, Saebit’s father came straight to me.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw several attendants wiping the grime from his face.
“You’re Hunter Lee Hasol, correct?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Yoon Uibeom. I’m Saebit’s father.”
A faint scent of alcohol clung to him.
No more than a drink or two, by the smell of it.
He must have wanted to borrow the haze of liquor because it felt like he had lost the whole world—yet he could not quite allow himself to let go of his senses.
Even after all that torment, he did not shed a single tear. That, I supposed, was a father’s way.
A father of one small child bowed to me at a full ninety degrees.
He held out a business card; I accepted it with both hands.
Director Yoon Uibeom
“My son is deeply indebted to you. I will be sure to repay the favor properly later.”
“No. I didn’t do it expecting a reward. Besides, I don’t even have a card of my own…”
“Then I will contact you from my end. Once again, thank you.”
We did not exchange long farewells.
You cannot simply release a civilian who has escaped an anomaly straight back into society.
Mental contamination has to be checked; a full physical exam is mandatory.
Those rules, too, had been written in blood.
People had died from the toxic miasma they inhaled inside anomalies.
To struggle all the way out only to die like that would be far too hollow an end.
There had also been cases where someone driven mad by an anomaly caused trouble afterward.
Once, an anomaly itself had even slipped out disguised as a person.
In any case, both I and the people on that side still had busy hours ahead of us.
“Hunter. I came to thank you as well.”
“Ah, Seo-gyeom. How’s the leg?”
“Fine. It only stung a little when they disinfected it. They say I still need tests, but it shouldn’t interfere with daily life.”
“That’s a relief. Focus on recovering for a while.”
Yu Seo-gyeom had come looking for me the moment he had a free second.
Instead of the makeshift wrap I had thrown together, he now wore a proper bandage.
I had been worried the wound might scar; seeing it eased my mind a little.
“Are you all right, Hunter? You were hurt worse than I was.”
“Me? I’m fine. The wounds all closed up after a bit of time. My constellation must be pretty impressive.”
The Goddess Who Praises puffs up with pride.
“If it’s all right with you, I’d like to treat you to a meal sometime.”
“Huh? Nah, it’s fine. I’m making decent money these days. I know how tight a college student’s budget is—I don’t want to bleed you dry.”
“I can at least buy my savior one meal. Please. Just one!”
“Mmm… if you insist, nothing too expensive. Or can you cook?”
“I can! I’m really good at it!”
Normally I turned this kind of thing down.
Back in my firefighter days, people sometimes showed up loaded with drinks, chicken, pizza—the works.
Those slightly cooled leftovers had tasted better than anything.
It was a flavor you could never understand unless you had eaten it yourself.
Even the same instant ramen tastes special when you eat it at a campsite or a PC bang, right?
“Th-then… could I get your number?”
“Here, take my phone and put it in. My fingers still aren’t fully healed.”
“Done. I’ll definitely call you later!”
Just like that, two new contacts were added to my phone book.
If you thought about it, were these my first real acquaintances?
Ever since the body swap I had never properly kept in touch with anyone from before.
Right now I carried both the memories of firefighter Lee Hasol and the memories of nursing-student Lee Hasol at the same time.
So even seeing the same name left me a little confused.
Exactly what kind of relationship I had with each person was all jumbled up.
Gender, after all, has a huge effect on relationships.
Apparently this striking face had received quite a few confessions.
The beauty captivated people without regard for gender.
Well, the core of who I am stayed the same, so I turned them all down.
Excessive affection is just burdensome.
I’m a far more introverted person than I look.
“Hunter Lee Hasol? Sorry for the delay. We’ll transfer you to the hospital now.”
“No need to apologize. I was the one who asked to go last.”
“It’ll take a while to arrive. Why don’t you rest your eyes for a bit?”
Yeah. I had done enough for now.
Maybe the tension finally drained out of me.
The moment my head touched the seat, sleep rolled in thick and heavy.
One last text message arrived, and then my consciousness cut out.
Only a few years ago, seeing weapons like spears, greatswords, or glaives in South Korea had been nearly impossible.
You were far more likely to spot a rifle than any of those proper cold weapons.
Korea runs a full conscription system.
Roughly half the population is forced to handle a gun at some point.
These days, though, cold weapons of every kind were easy to find across the country.
Not because the public had suddenly fallen in love with greatswords.
It was because the great warrior race kept appearing in the middle of cities.
— Plunder! Kree! Kill the men and rape the women!
— Kree? I think I misheard something.
— Rape the men and rape the women too!
— What’s the point of violating humans? Kill them all, kreeee!
Anomalies are born even from abstract concepts like “Greed.”
So why shouldn’t they be born from things that do not exist in reality—from words that live only in fiction?
The majority of the public already knows those beings and their meanings just the same.
For that reason, South Korea was occasionally invaded by other races such as orcs or goblins.
Now you understand why government-certified Awakened are still called “Hunters.”
Hell, these things even showed up with dimensional-gate-style special effects.
At first everyone thought the world had turned into one of those “A Gate Opened in Seoul!” stories.
A gate opens in the heart of a metropolis, monsters pour out, and Hunters cut them down.
It took quite a while for people to realize that what humanity had to overcome was not monsters but anomalies.
Of course, even if it all began with a misunderstanding, one truth never changed.
Namely—S-rank Hunters are special.
“Orc horde subjugation complete. Good work, Guildmaster.”
The man in Buddhist robes accepted a towel.
The dry cloth wiped across his face and immediately came away soaked in bright red blood.
It was not his own, so it had to be the orcs’.
The scene behind him backed up that conclusion.
The concrete floor looked as if a gigantic palm had crushed it flat.
Every stone that should have been gray was dyed crimson.
Anyone with sharp eyes might even pick out scraps of flesh and bone fragments among it.
“Casualties?”
“Five civilian casualties. Only two fatalities, but…”
The man in robes frowned.
A nearby staffer hurriedly cut in.
“My apologies. He’s a new support-team member; his training isn’t finished yet.”
“It’s fine. These things happen. Just be careful next time.”
“Thank you. Guild casualties: one injured. Light wound—he’ll be back after a day’s rest.”
“Good. Once the site is cleaned up, pull everyone out.”
S-rank Hunter.
Codename: Arahan.
The man was one of the handful of Awakened powerful enough to be counted on one hand in all of South Korea.
He wore Buddhist robes even though he was no monk, purely because of a skill.
His main skill, Tathagata Divine Palm, grew stronger the more he looked like a monk.
For someone who had been non-religious, the Awakening had been rather bewildering.
Religion or not, Arahan was a powerhouse Awakened—and a guildmaster as well.
Guild Nahan was large enough to claim top-class status even within Korea.
Lately he had taken an interest in one particular Awakened.
“Ah, right—she’s out again, isn’t she? That… bunny girl.”
“Word hit the Hunter Management Department network an hour ago. She rescued two civilians from the anomaly ‘Daon Mart.’”
“Daon Mart’s effectively B-rank or higher. Wow, flashy even during her probation period. No wonder that old stick Cheon Kang-heon is covering for her.”
A talented rookie is the raw gem every guildmaster wants.
And when the target is Physical Enhancement rank A+, a multi-ability Awakened with high future growth potential? No further words needed.
At that point you stop calling it a gem and start calling it a jewel.
Naturally every major guild was salivating over her.
The only reason Hasol had not yet received scout offers was one simple fact.
The probation period designated by the Hunter Management Department was not over.
During that window, no guild is allowed to extend a recruitment offer.
If the Department were a toothless agency it might be different, but among current government ministries it is the most powerful.
Touch a rookie they are openly watching and the backlash is terrifying.
When everyone is eyeing the same prize, everyone is also a watcher.
“The moment she promotes to D-rank, we’ll put in an offer as well.”
“Don’t spare the money—throw it at her hard. She supposedly has an SS-rank skill. Who knows, it might even work on my Eoduksini.”
Arahan scratched his head.
As if sensing his gaze, the shadow at his feet rippled and shifted.
A soft tsk of a tongue clicking sounded.
Eoduksini had been his long-standing headache.
A formless monster that simply followed him around.
According to the original lore, simply ignoring it should have been enough to clear it—yet somehow its power kept growing even when he did not look at it.
Lately its presence had become noticeable enough to register consciously.
Considering Arahan was a Buddhist-aligned Awakened, that was astonishing.
It had never threatened him yet… but that would not last forever.
In the end Arahan let out a sigh.
Once again, all he could do was put the matter on hold.
“Let’s go for now. We worked hard—time to play a little.”