Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Beyond B-Rank
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I figured they'd peg me as B-rank at best...
"Fire!"
Rat-a-tat-tat.
Sparks flew from the muzzles amid the clatter of ejected shell casings, hurtling straight into the rundown studio apartment where I'd been living.
The room was shredded in an instant. I flew through the hole blasted in the wall, punched straight through the outer wall of the neighboring building, and shot up into the air.
"The monster's out! Commence barrage!"
And that was just the beginning.
As I plummeted back down, something straight out of a game or movie—a genuine missile—slammed into me.
BOOM!
An explosion rocked the heart of downtown Seoul from a direct hit.
For a split second, the dark night sky blazed red.
Thud.
I crashed onto the asphalt far away, tumbling end over end after taking a missile to the face.
But there was no time to rest.
Spotlights locked onto me again in seconds, unleashing a storm of anti-monster rounds from every direction.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat.
Brat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat.
"Don't let your guard down! This is a humanoid monster! Treat it like at least a B-rank threat!"
"The military's covering our weak spots! So no worries—let's pull together and blast this thing!"
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat.
A clause from the hunter protocols in the original game Hunters Blood flashed through my mind.
Three rules for handling monsters appearing in human territory.
First: Separate the monster from human habitation.
They'd blasted me out of the villa, so success.
Second: Neutralize any rampage during the first step.
They'd nailed me with a missile mid-fall from the tenth floor, so by their standards, success.
Third: Lure the monster to an open area for full assault.
I'd landed smack in the middle of a bustling four-way intersection, crawling with people and cars day and night.
Success again.
Just like in the game, it looked like Korea's Hunter Association and the military teamed up to swiftly take down urban monsters.
Traffic control and civilian evacuations were already done. All that was left was mopping up the monster that had burst out of the villa like an uninvited guest at a feast.
...Which made me feel kinda bad for some reason.
They must've blown a ton of budget on this. Sorry about that...
"Wha—what...?"
"C-Commander! The m-monster's getting up!"
"What?! That's impossible! It took a direct hit from an anti-tank missile that punches through armor like butter! No way it walks off—"
It did.
"...What."
"H-Humanoid monster! It's standing! No visible internal damage!"
"External damage assessment in progress! ...N-No way."
"External damage: 0.0045%! A-anti-monster rounds aren't working!"
"That thing... is just a B-rank monster?"
Sadly, in my current monsterized state, it'd take something like an ICBM or hypersonic missile to even scratch me.
Stats above 15 put you in monster-hero territory.
I could've dodged from the start with my sharpened senses, but I'd just tanked it all.
Shooting down the missile mid-flight or breaking their plan outright would've escalated things big time.
Misunderstandings breed more misunderstandings.
With that in mind, even though I'd possessed a game world, this was still Korea—full of hunters and monsters.
I didn't want to end up wanted in my own country. If I had to be a monster, at least frame it as a harmless one.
I didn't know exactly where we were in the main story, but later on, monsters sided with humans, building a "good monster" image.
A monster friendly to humanity.
That was my plan to prove.
"Grrr..."
"H-Humanoid monster! Approaching from the front!"
"Get back, Commander!"
"......"
Was that woman the one commanding both the hunters and the Korean military here?
If so, she was probably a Commander Hunter—low combat ability, but specialized in buffs and heals for allies.
And Commander Hunters were usually sharp.
One of the few knowledge types among hunters who led with brains over brawn. Easier to talk to.
"Grrr... grrrr...!"
"Commander! Fall back now!"
"No close-combat hunters here?"
Humanoid monsters apparently couldn't speak.
So I trudged forward, growling as meekly as possible to signal no threat.
"No... Regrettably, we assembled based on it being B-rank. No close-combat specialists..."
"Tricky. Anti-monster rounds won't dent that toughness. Artillery shells would level Jamsil."
"Yes. Calculations show even if we win, Jamsil—8% of Seoul—gets wiped out. And then..."
"Mass panic."
"...Exactly."
The commander amid the soldiers and her ops staffer beside her turned back to me gravely.
As I closed in, the encirclement shifted with me.
The hovering choppers kept their spots on me with floodlights.
They realized attacking with current weapons was just budget waste. Silence fell.
My chance.
When the enemy's weaker, surrendering makes 'em think you're harmless.
Humanoid design meant no words, but body language worked.
"C-Commander! Monster's moving!"
"...! That's...!"
"Humanoid monster raising both arms high!"
Since humanity's first civilizations, surrender was always this gesture.
Hands high in the air!
I stopped growling, signaling pure surrender in silence.
Once the stunned hunters and soldiers slipped, I'd weave out harmlessly and bail.
They wouldn't chase relentlessly.
This world's lore: monsters popped up daily, attacking innocents.
Hunters and military weren't idle enough to track every passerby like me.
So please, just let me go.
"What the hell is that thing doing?"
"Uh... prepping an attack...?"
"...No. Looks like surrender to me."
"Eh?! C-Commander, you're saying that monster's doing a human surrender gesture!?"
"Yeah. Hard to believe, but that's what I see."
Yes!
Smart Commander Hunter.
Couldn't see her well amid the troops, but my monster hearing caught every word.
"Incompetent allies scarier than strong foes." Not here.
So I'd slip away safe...
'Huh?'
Not quite.
Hands still up, I walked toward the Commander Hunter.
Stumble.
Excited from smooth sailing, I stepped harder.
That sank my leg deep, cratering the asphalt.
"...?"
"What the—? Whoa!"
I nearly faceplanted, reflexes slamming my hands down.
KABOOM!
Just bracing... and an earthquake hit.
'...Oops?'
"Wh-What?!"
"Commander! We got played!"
"What?"
"Jamsil's shaking! Magnitude 5 or higher!"
Korea, quake-free, was rife with shoddy construction.
The tremor toppled nearby weaklings like dominoes.
Apocalyptic.
Soldiers and hunters froze. Me too.
'N-No people, right...?'
Listening close.
"Waaah! Grandma! Grandma!"
Faint but clear—a kid's cry from a collapsing shop near sturdy high-rises.
'...Not everyone evacuated?'
Oh no.
In the original, evacuation zones had holdouts: vendors selling to fighters for triple prices.
First time, instant ramen at 5,000 won screamed dystopia, but...
"P-Please buy...!"
Kids hawking amid corpses—I'd emptied my wallet.
Apparently here too.
Real lives, not data.
One slip, and they're crushed?
No way.
"Roooaaarrr!!"
"?!"
"H-Humanoid's moving! Direction... huh?"
I'd blown past the ops staffer briefing the Commander Hunter.
Underestimated my speed.
No close-combat hunters, sure, but breaching their lines this fast? News to me.
"H-Help!"
shoved shock aside, bolted toward the cry.
Weaving through teetering buildings.
What coincidence?
Vmmm.
That...!
A pursuing chopper's light on me—blue glow ahead.
Then, a gate ripped open over Jamsil skies, game-graphics style.
And from it.
"RAAAAAAGH!!"
"Commander! Another monster!"
"Another one?!"
A real monster emerged: lizard-like, but dwarfing any reptile in eerie size.