I Can't Do This Anymore

I couldn't do this anymore.

Is seeing the future a blessing, or a curse?

Ask a hundred people, and every last one of them would call it a blessing. Dodge the dangers coming your way, monopolize every opportunity before it arrives—of course they'd see it that way.

I didn't quite agree.

If it meant having to watch futures you never wanted to see, it was the most horrific curse of all.

That was the first prophecy I made after awakening my ability.

Should I tell the others?

No. They wouldn't believe me, and I didn't even know why the world would end. My prophecies weren't all-powerful. Worse, if I spread the future around carelessly, even the future I already knew could twist out of shape.

Then what the hell am I supposed to do?

Get stronger. Become a Level 9 hunter—the kind they called a Demi-God—and climb high enough that no one could ignore a word I said. That way, when the end came, I'd have the power to move countless people.

From that day on, I lived like a man possessed. I wrung every last coin out of the orphan resettlement grant, graduated from the Academy, and went straight into Baekya, one of the Four Great Guilds.

The result: at twenty-one, I became the youngest strike team leader in the guild.

Apparently that didn't sit well with a lot of people. In a scene crawling with heirs from prestigious families, a nobody with no pedigree had climbed this far—of course their pride was bruised.

Even so, it had been bearable. I'd steeled myself for it.

They still shouldn't have crossed that line.

I stared at the gate that looked ready to burst at any second and let out a hollow laugh.

Gate Abandonment.

The most despicable trick in a rotten guild's playbook for raking in cash. You leave an active gate uncleared until the mana pouring out of it erodes the surrounding neighborhood, and terrified residents dump their property at fire-sale prices. Meanwhile, you sweep up the bottomed-out real estate through shell companies. Only then do you bother starting the raid.

And a guild that claimed to represent South Korea was pulling this kind of underworld horseshit?

"Fuck."

No wonder things had felt off lately. Weeks after the gate appeared, raid orders kept getting postponed, and every time I raised a question the guild recycled the same excuse: the operation is under review. This morning they'd even scattered every one of my teammates across the country on the pretext of supporting regional gates, and left me—the team leader—behind for "on-site surveillance and emergency response."

Surveillance, my ass. They needed someone to pin it on if things went south.

The moment I realized all of it had been groundwork for this con, the blood rushed straight to my head.

A sharp beep cut through my earpiece.

"...No-entry? The mana density's already past critical. If you don't send a strike team in right now, a Gate Break is going to swallow everything within several hundred meters."

The voice from Gate Management was perfectly calm.

Relocation procedures? What the hell are these bastards even saying?

Watching them dress up their own dirty work as "relocation procedures" left me speechless. I swallowed as much of my anger as I could.

"...There are still civilians who haven't evacuated."

The answer that came back:

A bureaucratic tone, as if none of this had anything to do with them. Then again, civilian casualties probably didn't matter much to these bastards. My insides were boiling.

I yanked out the earpiece still spouting garbage and crushed it in my fist. The nauseating voice vanished, leaving only the gate thrashing violently in front of me.

Whatever I was looking at, it was a long way from the Level 4 gate in the report.

At least a Level 6 gate.

Maybe even Level 7.

Either way, it was too much for me to clear alone as a Level 6. A Level 6 gate was the kind of thing you built a proper strike team around a Level 6 hunter to take on.

I still had no intention of backing down. There was no way to stop the monsters that would come pouring out of that thing, and no reinforcements coming. The second I turned my back, this whole area would become hell.

I steeled myself and drew the sword at my hip.

Impossible alone, huh.

Common sense said that was true. Someone still had to do it.

I let my mana surge and murmured the words.

"...Open Eyes."

My eyes flooded with blue light, pupils contracting to pinpoints. At the same time, a faint image layered itself over my vision.

The futures I could see came in two kinds. The first:

Three seconds ahead.

A fleeting precognition that triggered only for myself and my immediate surroundings—an ability everyone else knew as Hyper Instinct.

Three seconds.

For an ordinary person, that was gone in the blink of an eye. On a battlefield where lives turned on a fraction of a moment, three seconds was plenty.

The instant I set foot inside the gate, I felt dozens of movements riding waves of mana from every direction. Monsters worthy of a Level 6 gate, no question. They had the shape of wolves, with long tails that ended in scythe-curved blades of bone.

The one at the front let out a guttural snarl and lunged. The moment its paws kicked off the ground, the afterimage overlaid on my sight painted the future three seconds ahead.

Charges head-on, then a hard stop—then the tail from the right blind spot.

The monster did exactly what I'd seen. It scraped the ground as it braked hard and whipped its tail at the same time. The tail cracked through the air like a whip, and the shockwave alone sheared through the boulder behind it. A direct hit would have been instant death.

But before the tail could reach me, I'd already taken a half-step back and twisted my head aside. Then came the opening the future's afterimage had shown me.

The nape, exposed by the recoil of the tail swing.

My blade drove into the beast's nape without a shred of hesitation. I felt the satisfying bite of steel punching through hide and shearing bone clean through. Pitch-black blood unique to mana beasts sprayed into the air, and its head hit the ground.

The moment the leader's head came off in a single exchange, the rest of the pack poured out killing intent all at once. Every hair on my body stood on end.

...Yeah. That's a Level 6 gate for you.

Being able to see three seconds ahead didn't mean anything if dozens of them came at me at once. The body couldn't keep up. And the boss lurking in the depths hadn't even glanced my way.

A do-or-die situation. The corner of my mouth went up anyway.

I didn't know why. The adrenaline of a crisis? Or maybe I'd just gone insane.

Either way, all I could do now was give myself over to that feeling.

Dozens of monsters leapt at once.

Three on the left leaping together. Two on the right feinting. Four in the rear launching their tail-blades.

Dozens of branching futures packed my vision to the brim. I flicked the blood from my blade and threw myself into the middle of them without a second's hesitation.

How long had it been since I entered the gate? Thirty minutes? An hour? I had no idea. I'd swung my sword until my sense of time went dull.

See the future. Dodge. Cut it down. Over and over.

More corpses than I could count were piled across the floor, and the head of the boss that had owned this gate was rolling across the ground, crushed. Gate clear. When the boss finally died, the air rippled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and a blue dimensional door opened.

I dragged in the breath I'd been holding and roughly shook out clothes soaked in blood and filth. There wasn't a single uninjured place on my body. Blood seeped from every cut and tear, and my head felt ready to split from pushing my ability to its limit.

I forced my feet to move, stepped through the gate—and found three familiar faces waiting.

Aside from me, our team had four members. Three of them were here. The same people who were supposed to be out on regional support.

The heat that had cooled flared up again.

"...Wow. You actually beat it alone?"

"Park Dohyuk. You—"

Park Dohyuk. An Academy classmate of mine, and a Level 5 hunter. He looked startled watching me come out of the gate, then quickly schooled his face.

"Impressive, Lee Hajin. Clearing a Level 6 gate all by yourself. Truly living up to the youngest strike team leader."

Park Dohyuk clapped with exaggerated flourishes. The woman standing beside him let out a short snicker.

"I'm more surprised you came out alive."

Seo Yerin. Another Academy classmate, and a Level 4 hunter. She looked me up and down, arms crossed, taking in the blood-soaked mess of me.

"Guess that precious instinct of yours pulled you through again?"

"..."

"You've always had luck, I'll give you that."

They hadn't changed since the Academy. They'd never been able to stand an orphan with no pedigree standing in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠same place they did.

Park Dohyuk went on, smiling.

"Congratulations. And what convenient timing—I hear they just finished the land acquisition for the surrounding district. Plus you went and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠risked your life stopping the gate all by yourself... Lucky you, Lee Hajin. Another promotion coming?"

Seo Yerin tapped Park Dohyuk's shoulder, playing along.

"Pfft. Yeah, that'll be it. The orphan youngest team leader who risked his life for the citizens? Something like that."

Jealousy leaked through every word of their snickering congratulations.

They never thought I'd actually go in.

Once they'd heard I had, they probably hoped I'd come out dead. If I'd died in there, they could've taken the team leader spot. They looked pretty disappointed.

That was when a woman's voice cut through their mockery.

"Both of you, stop it."

Han Yuju. Another Academy classmate, and a Level 5 hunter. She was frowning at the blood-soaked state of me.

"Hajin... you're bleeding too much. Let me treat you first—"

Han Yuju pulled out medicine and reached toward me, looking for all the world like she was worried. I looked at that face for a moment, then opened my mouth.

"...Weren't you supposed to be out on regional support?"

At that, Han Yuju's hand froze. The silence stretched. The way her eyes wavered explained everything.

So she was the same after all.

Even though she came from a prestigious family, I'd thought she was cut from a different cloth than the Park Dohyuks and Seo Yerins of the world. She'd known exactly what the guild was pulling, and she'd chosen silence anyway.

"Hajin, I..."

"Shut up."

I cut her off, sharp. I didn't want to hear excuses. Whatever she said, it'd just be more hypocritical justifications.

Seo Yerin's brow furrowed.

"Watch your mouth. Yuju's just worried about you."

"Worried? When she knew people could die?"

"That's for the higher-ups to decide. Not you."

She said it like it was genuinely obvious.

"If we acted on our own and something went wrong, who'd take the blame?"

"..."

"Hunting is a job at the end of the day. A job for making money."

Park Dohyuk's mouth curled into a sneer at that.

"What, you gonna play the righteous hero now?"

"Righteous?"

It was so absurd I could only laugh. Watching them wear those looks like they'd become actual adults was enough to make me gag. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I started saying everything I'd been storing up.

"Hey. You remember how many times I've cleaned up the shit you two piled up?"

"What?"

"You'd pick fights riding your family names, botch a gate raid to hell, and the second things went south you'd slink off out the back. You bastards."

Their faces went stiff.

"And every time, who was the one who stayed on-site and busted his ass cleaning up after you?"

They said nothing.

"When the guild covered for you because they were too busy watching your families' faces, I was the one kissing ass."

I threw the words straight in their faces.

"After pulling that shit, you're seriously lecturing me right now?"

No answer. Still burning, I looked them over once, then turned and walked away.

This guild is rotten.

I'd toughed it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out for years, but I was too tired now. I shoved the blood-slick sword into its sheath without even wiping it down.

I'm out.

Out of Baekya.

The end of the world or not—this was so goddamn fucked I couldn't do it anymore.