Gate Rampage (1)
Seoul, South Korea. The Hunter Association headquarters, top floor.
“Are you seriously calling that an excuse?!”
With a buzz cut, razor-sharp eyes, a face crisscrossed with jagged scars, and a towering, heavily muscled frame, the man possessed an intimidating aura that would wither anyone on sight. Right now, he was bellowing at the top of his lungs.
“I—I am terribly sorry, sir!”
Standing opposite him, a young man was drenched in a cold sweat, repeatedly bowing at the waist.
“If that is how you handle your job, there’s no reason for you to sit in that chair, is there?”
An S-rank hunter. One of the war heroes who had survived the era of the apocalypse. The Fist King, Kang Taejun. Beneath his suffocating, murderous pressure, the young man—evidently his secretary—kept bowing lower and lower, trembling in sheer terror.
“We had no idea things would turn out like this so suddenly, sir!”
“Suddenly? How the hell is this sudden?!”
Boom!
Kang Taejun’s roar shook the entire high-rise building down to its foundation. Just as the secretary looked on the verge of bursting into tears amid the suffocating tension, the door swung open and another man strolled inside.
“President Kang, whatever could have made you this upset? You’ve only just returned after so long away—shouldn’t you be resting? Hmm?”
“Vice President. I believe I gave explicit orders that any reports concerning Lee Siwoo were to be routed directly to my desk. Do my words sound like a joke to you?”
“Ah, that?”
The newcomer appeared to be in his mid-forties, roughly the same age as Kang Taejun. In every other aspect, however, he was the exact opposite: a bulging potbelly, slit weasel-like eyes, and a shiny, balding crown. Han Doyun, the picture of a career bureaucrat, offered a breezy, shameless reply.
“Does a hunter breaking up with his girlfriend truly warrant a personal report to the Association President? You are a very busy man, so I simply instructed staff not to bother you with such trifles.”
“Trifles?”
Kang Taejun’s eyes ignited with a glare so piercing it seemed ready to burn holes through the man’s skull. If an S-rank hunter were to completely lose control of his emotions, what kind of disaster would unfold? An answer to the debate that had raged across internet forums for years was on the verge of being settled right here.
“W-Why… why are you looking at me like that?”
“Vice President. I acknowledge your administrative competence. You do your job very well.”
“Th-Thank you…?”
As a non-hunter, Han Doyun had no choice but to cower before the crushing pressure radiating from Kang Taejun. In all the time since his appointment here, he had never once seen the man wear an expression so terrifying.
“This scar across my right eye. Who do you think carved it?”
Kang Taejun’s brow furrowed deep into a scowl as the memory resurfaced. An isolated catastrophe zone cut off from the world by a gate rampage. A boy discovered in the ruins, barely ten years old.
For a fleeting second back then, Kang Taejun had mistaken the child for a monster. The feral bloodlust in those eyes, the sheer viciousness of his movements, a ferocity that defied all logic for a human child—it had startled Kang Taejun so badly that his weapon had lashed out on pure reflex.
“Fifteen years ago, it was carved by Lee Siwoo. When he was only ten years old.”
“What on earth are you…”
Han Doyun stared, completely unable to process what he was hearing. A natural-born S-rank. Even among the five peak rankers who stood at the absolute zenith of South Korea, Kang Taejun was in a league of his own. From the moment he first awakened his skills up to this very day, he had reigned as the undisputed strongest hunter in the nation. Not once had he ever yielded that throne.
And a ten-year-old boy had left a permanent scar on a man like that? Who in the entire hunter industry would ever believe such an absurdity?
“A monster like that ended up rotting in administrative paperwork just to support some female hunter. Do you have any idea what a colossal loss that is to this country? Huh?!”
“Th-That…”
Han Doyun, who had previously worked in the presidential Blue House, had been at the Hunter Association for less than three years. He had considered himself well-informed thanks to his high-ranking position, but this was news to him.
“Th-Then shouldn’t we win him over right away?! We need to do something!”
Han Doyun’s eyes went wide as he grabbed Kang Taejun’s arm. The reason was blindingly obvious.
“Especially now, with gates opening at an uncontrollable rate!”
There were simply too few hunters for the sheer volume of work. Worse yet, because of long-entrenched cartels, the major guilds refused to surrender an inch of their lucrative vested interests. The Hunter Association had to scramble to plug the resulting gaps, but they were critically short on personnel. Under such circumstances, if a talent of this caliber was walking the streets, they had to recruit him by any means necessary.
“He went somewhere deeply annoying. That’s why I’m furious! Why did you handle things so arbitrarily, Vice President…!”
“Pardon?”
Kang Taejun buried his face in his hands and groaned. Of all the places the young man could have gone, he had landed in the one spot where Kang Taejun’s authority was entirely useless.
“To think that damn geezer beat me to the punch.”
“What kind of duties would I be handling?”
At my question, Lee Miseon, who had been sitting demurely across from me, brightened up and spread out a folder of documents on the table.
“Basic administrative paperwork and hunter management. Those are areas you excel at, aren’t they? We only have three hunters on our roster, so the workload won’t be heavy at all!”
With only three hunters, most of the day’s work would indeed wrap up by noon. Of course, that depended entirely on which gate jurisdiction we were assigned.
“What is our assigned district?”
“Uh…”
Lee Miseon flinched, shifting her gaze away in visible fluster. I waited patiently. Jurisdiction was the single most vital factor of all—doubly so for a brand-new agency.
“Gyeyang District, B-team standby unit…”
“Excuse me?”
Gyeyang District saw occasional gates, but it was predominantly low-rank territory with little profit to offer. On top of that, a B-team standby unit?
“Not even an A-team standby, but a standby unit for the B-team? Does such a thing even exist?”
I had worked in administrative operations for seven years, and this was the first time I had ever heard of a B-team standby. Typically, an assault on a gate was handled by Team A, while a backup Team B or an assigned Team A reserve stood by in case of an emergency. What on earth was the role of a standby unit for the backup team?
“The competition was so fierce that this was the only nominal assignment I could scrape together! But honestly, I never expected it to be this bad! Back when I was at the Association, there was such a shortage of hunters that we were working overtime every single night!”
That was precisely why she had resigned to establish an agency of her own, assuming there would be work spilling over everywhere. Reality, however, told a very different story.
“If people were saintly enough to willingly give up their own vested interests, they would have joined the Hunter Association, not private guilds.”
It felt somewhat awkward to say it aloud, but that was the harsh reality. Guilds existed to chase profit. Anyone moved by a sense of greater duty would have worn the Association’s badge instead.
“…I didn't realize that.”
“Even so, with gate outbreaks and spawn frequencies spiking so dramatically lately, there should be plenty of work to go around, shouldn’t there?”
“Exactly! Everyone else has their hands full! Why are we the only ones who aren't getting any work?!”
Watching Lee Miseon suddenly work herself into an agitated frenzy, I narrowed my eyes. Even though I had only resigned yesterday, I had spent a full decade in this industry, and something about her situation smelled entirely wrong.
Failing to clear a gate in one’s assigned district meant an automatic penalty for any guild. The Association would downgrade the guild’s gate-clearing capacity tier, resulting in damages easily running into billions of won. That was why large guilds outsourced overflow assignments to smaller subsidiaries. People had been saying that while ordinary civilians faced hardship these days, the hunter industry was enjoying an unprecedented golden age.
“Did you step on the wrong toes when you left the Association?”
“…No? Everyone smiled and wished me well when I said goodbye.”
Seeing Lee Miseon on the verge of tears only deepened the mystery, but before I could press further, a quiet voice cut in.
“Um… I’m sorry.”
It was the girl from earlier, offering an apology. She had done nothing wrong. Her question had been perfectly natural for anyone in the hunter industry to ask. If anything, the fault lay with me for failing to keep my emotions in check like a proper adult.
“It’s fine. I should be the one apologizing for souring the mood so abruptly.”
“…You don’t really have anything to apologize to me for.”
I took a closer look at her face. Yes, there’s no doubt about it. Based on my ten years of experience, I would bet my entire life savings on her.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“You’re the hunter I’ll be managing, right?”
“…So what if I am?”
Watching the girl scowl in bewilderment, I couldn't help letting a small smile show. She possessed the ideal talent for a modern hunter. While good looks mattered in every profession, in today's hunter industry, visual appeal was one of the greatest assets a person could have.
As for any shortcomings in combat skills, I could easily bridge that gap with my Extremity. There was no issue whatsoever.
Having organized my thoughts, I turned back to Lee Miseon. Kim Eunji’s presence alone gave Saebit Guild more than enough potential.
“Let’s figure out the work assignments step by step. What about compensation?”
“How does three million won a month to start sound? Performance incentives will be separate.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Having closed the contract at lightning speed, I rose from my seat and turned toward the short-haired girl.
“I’m Lee Siwoo, twenty-five years old. I’ve worked in this industry for a little over ten years. My skill set falls under the supporter category, as anyone who knows about me probably already knows.”
“I’m Kim Eunji, twenty years old. Since we’re going to be working together from now on… tell me. Why did you come here all by yourself?”
Lee Miseon glared with narrowed eyes and opened her mouth to scold her, but I raised a hand to hold her back. It was something she was bound to learn sooner or later anyway.
“Well, it’s something I only found out yesterday, but…”
“…What a fucking bitch.”
The shocking profanity slipped straight past Kim Eunji’s lips the moment I finished my explanation. My eyes widened in surprise at how remarkably foul-mouthed she was compared to her delicate appearance.
“Oh.”
“What? You don’t like it when a girl curses?”
“No. It just makes you even more charming than I thought.”
Her marketability was truly top-tier. In this era, brute strength alone was never enough. A stunning, eye-catching visual paired with an unexpectedly blunt, unfiltered personality—Kim Eunji had every ingredient necessary to become a superstar.
“…Whatever.”
Watching her grumble and look away only deepened my conviction. Before long, a vivid blush began spreading across the tips of her ears, painting them a bright crimson. Even that fleeting reaction was as captivating as a fine painting.
“This job is going to be worth the effort.”
The more I supported her, the higher her status would climb with every passing day. A decade of industry experience made that crystal clear. Right then, Kim Eunji snapped her head back around and glared daggers at me.
“…You shouldn't just throw words like that around, you know?”
“I wouldn't say it lightly. You’re the very first person I’ve ever felt this certain about, Eunji.”
It was the absolute truth. Putting aside the fact that I had devoted ten whole years exclusively to Kim Seolyeon without ever sparing a glance for anyone else, finding a gem of Kim Eunji’s caliber was extraordinarily rare regardless.
“…Fine. If you say so.”
Just a moment ago, she had been raising her voice with narrowed eyes, but now she was answering so meekly. I had no idea what was running through her head, but in moments like this, the best move was simply to keep quiet. That usually smoothed things over without a hitch.
Ten years of dating experience had taught me that much, at least.
Chime!
Right then, a notification alert sounded from the pocket of President Lee Miseon, who had been watching us with a warm, contented smile.
“Huh?”
She fished her smartphone out of her pocket, checked the screen, and suddenly raised her voice in excitement.
“Right now! Immediate deployment for the Gyeyang District B-team standby unit! Eunji! Where are the other two?”
“Uh… Seoah went to the training center, and I don't know where that Seo Yujin girl is.”
“Then it’s just you and Siwoo! Let’s move! We have to leave a strong impression with this one, no matter what!”
I rose to my feet without hesitation and looked at Kim Eunji.
“Let’s go.”
This was the perfect opportunity to find out why Saebit Guild was being starved of work, and an ideal chance to evaluate Kim Eunji’s combat capabilities firsthand.
“Good luck out there!”
With Lee Miseon’s cheerful send-off echoing behind us, Kim Eunji and I set out toward the site of the gate rampage.