Codename Bunny Girl (4)

I tried my best. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠moment I heard people's voices, I scrambled to act like I'd handled the crisis smoothly. But there I was, gripping the ghost by its hair and beating it senseless.

Not just holding it—I'd wrapped my fist tight around its hair and was pounding away. When I tried to let go in a hurry, my hand wouldn't cooperate. That's how everything went wrong.

“The victim's life appears to be in danger!”

“Initiate engagement immediately!”

“Lee Hasol Hunter-nim! This is the Anomaly Management Bureau! We're treating this as an emergency and entering right now!”

Crash! The front door of my apartment flew off its hinges. At the same time, a group of men poured in with perfect coordination. The agents soon locked eyes with me in the most awkward silence imaginable.

For some reason, I could follow their train of thought.

Situation assessment. The victim, Lee Hasol, is unilaterally… assaulting something. A woman in a white robe with disheveled hair. No—based on appearance, it looks like a virgin ghost-type anomaly. The victim's condition is… a bunny girl? She was wearing that outfit alone in her house? …Why? What is this situation?

Even just looking at them, I could tell their thoughts had frozen solid. Only the man who seemed to be the leader managed to pull himself together and speak.

“……I'm glad you're safe.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you. You've worked hard.”

'Please.' Please shut up. If you don't want to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠watch me commit suicide right this second, please.

A few days later, I received a call and returned to the Hunter Management Department.

- Lee Hasol Hunter-nim.

- Your Awakener registration review has been approved.

- The ceremony will be held at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Hunter Management Department headquarters by 10:20 a.m. on the 11th.

It was because the Awakener registration that had been briefly postponed after the horrific 'lie detector' incident was now complete. Originally, I was supposed to receive my first assignment today, but an anomaly had interfered midway and thrown the system into disarray.

Thanks to that, there seemed to be something that needed resolving procedurally. It wasn't entirely my fault, and government offices are particularly vulnerable to variables anyway. While I waited quietly, today had arrived.

'So, am I finally going to do that now?'

There was one famous ceremony among Hunters. You could call it a kind of initiation rite. It was a ceremony that every Hunter in South Korea underwent without exception.

Originally, information about anomalies wasn't widely shared with the public. Ghost stories follow people's perceptions and fears, after all. The more people fear a ghost story, the more power it gains and the more vicious it becomes.

Hiding ghost stories creates victims, but carelessly revealing them causes large-scale disasters. That's why ghost stories are such a difficult problem.

Anyway, as soon as I arrived, a staff member came out to greet me.

“You must be Lee Hasol Hunter-nim. Welcome. I'm Director Cheon Gang-heon, who will be overseeing today's ceremony.”

“Ah, yes. Hello. I'm Lee Hasol. Please take care of me.”

A director-level official came out for this? Hiding my slight surprise, I looked at the guide again. The guide, Cheon Gang-heon, was a man with an intellectual appearance.

He had the kind of face that gave off an elite aura—the type that would be extremely strict as a superior. Though he looked to be in his forties or fifties, he didn't give off a frail impression. What department he directed mattered, but in the civil service, a director is generally a high rank.

In corporate terms, at minimum a deputy or department head level middle manager. For a large department, it could even correspond to executive level.

Since the Hunter Management Department generally handles important positions, he must be quite a high-ranking person. I should make a good impression this time. There's no harm in showing well to superiors in any situation. No, perhaps even……

“You don't need to worry—I'm not an anomaly. The security around here is quite tight, after all.”

“I'm sorry. Did it show that much?”

“I heard you recently went through something unpleasant. It's a natural reaction.”

He definitely wasn't saying it didn't show. That meant my thoughts were completely visible on my face. I'd never been good at lying to begin with, but this body seemed especially quick to show reactions outwardly.

Anyway, I knew roughly what the 'Ignition Ceremony' was about. This was one of the few things whose existence had been publicly announced even to ordinary people long ago. It was a ceremony that needed to be known about, even in an industry full of secrets.

“How much do you know about the Ignition Ceremony?”

“About as much as everyone else.”

“So you haven't heard anything special. Let's go. I'll explain while we move.”

The reason this ceremony is called the Ignition Ceremony is simple. It's literally a ritual for lighting a fire. The Hunter Management Department prepares a special lantern every time a new Hunter is born.

The Hunter personally lights the lantern, and the lit lantern is strictly managed by the department. The flame lit at that time will never go out as long as the Hunter lives. In other words, the lantern used in the Ignition Ceremony remains as a life signal for Hunters.

In a way, this is an industry where disappearances are frequent. For those left behind—close friends, lovers, family—a single small flame becomes a source of hope. That's why the room where the lanterns are placed is called the Waiting Room, or so they say.

Back when I was working as a firefighter, there was one phrase I always heard whenever a major disaster struck. Please, at least find the body. If that's impossible, at least tell us whether they're dead or alive.

It was the kind of thing that made both speaker and listener's blood run cold. Waiting without any promise is terrifying. That's why I'd always envied this ceremony.

“The flame of the Ignition Ceremony is generally well known. But have you ever heard about the lantern that holds the flame?”

“No. Now that you mention it, I've never heard about that before.”

“I thought so. The lantern is something you create yourself, Hunter-nim. Depending on your ability. Depending on the person. And sometimes, depending on fate, a different form emerges.”

Cheon Gang-heon led me to a quiet room. A solemn atmosphere had settled over the space. Without realizing it, I lowered my voice and walked carefully.

It was like a graveyard where extinguished candles had found eternal rest. I didn't need to ask what each of those candles meant. Instead, I bowed my head in respect. Cheon Gang-heon, walking ahead, seemed to smile faintly.

“This is just superstition, but they say that if a special lantern appears today, you'll achieve great success as a Hunter.”

“A special candle?”

“Yes. Occasionally, something that looks obviously special comes out. Usually, they don't come out in particularly pretty shapes. The colors are dull, too.”

Fortunately, it wasn't complicated to make. It was almost embarrassing how nervous I'd been, considering I wasn't particularly dexterous. All it took was dripping a single drop of blood onto a small lump of clay.

Cheon Gang-heon covered the clay with a black cloth and handed me a thick book. It wasn't a book with names written in it, but I knew what it was. The Registry of the Deceased. A book containing the names of all the Hunters who had died in the line of duty.

I calmed my heart and spoke.

“I, Lee Hasol, do solemnly swear.”

It was a kind of oath. Just as doctors take the Hippocratic Oath upon graduating from university, Hunters went through a similar procedure.

“I solemnly swear to protect the lives and safety of the people.”

Of course, this was an oath with a short history. It had probably been hastily created by someone in a government ministry from the very beginning. The reality is that even the Hippocratic Oath isn't always upheld.

While the medical profession is only permitted to the highest elites, Awakeners are created randomly. It was obvious how seriously other Awakeners would take this oath. Like singing the national anthem at a training camp, no one probably attached any meaning to it.

“I will not turn away from voices seeking help.”

But I didn't want to be like that. Whatever form it took, these were words I had spoken myself. This was the duty I had chosen to take on, the danger I had decided to bear. If so, there was plenty of reason to keep it. Even if the whole world could lie, I couldn't deceive myself.

“I will fulfill my mission before pursuing personal gain.”

Above all, I genuinely enjoyed saving people. The reward of a single heartfelt thank you. The happiness of seeing someone I'd saved living healthily. This kind of joy couldn't be found in any other job.

Other people are other people. I intend to keep the promise I just made. It's not particularly difficult for me. I'm simply starting again the work I've always done. Even if I had died in the flames that day, I wouldn't have regretted it.

After the oath ended, Cheon Gang-heon removed the cloth. The clay I'd dripped blood onto had already become a lantern.

“Hmm, it's ordinary.”

“……”

It was a lantern with nothing particularly distinctive about it. Not even a single common decoration. Just a plain white, round lantern sitting there alone. Well, I'd always been somewhat distant from success.

Cheon Gang-heon's expression had become a bit strange, but I couldn't tell what it meant. Was it too ordinary, even for ordinary?

“Do I just light it here?”

“Ah…… yes. Light it and then you may leave the room.”

“Thank you. You've worked hard.”

Today, I officially became a Hunter. The codename assigned by the Hunter Management Department was Bunny Girl. I had become the Bunny Girl of ghost stories.