Enter the Gate. Pick Up the Burger.

Host's OP Map.

A phrase commonly used for maps designed to give the lobby host every possible advantage. It's so well-known that people often apply it outside of games, as a metaphor for real life.

Take, for instance, a nation with vast territory, endless land to develop, abundant natural resources, and river systems stretching across the entire country…

A country so overwhelmingly favored in every respect that no other nation could compare — that was what people meant by a Host's OP Map.

These days, though, one more comparison had been added to the list.

Twenty years ago, a supernatural phenomenon known as the Gate appeared out of nowhere.

These passages connecting to other dimensions harbored countless dangers beyond the grasp of human common sense — so much so that they were once called world-ending disasters, and every nation threw its full might into eradicating them.

Well, that's all ancient history now.

Time passed. Hunters emerged, and through the byproducts discovered inside Gates, humanity achieved explosive progress. The technology advanced far enough that even non-Hunters could begin managing certain Gates.

High-risk Gates still required a Hunter's power, of course, but some could be handled by specialized personnel equipped with gear forged from Gate materials.

As a result, Gates were no longer classified purely as disasters. They became something more nuanced — dangerous, yes, but special resources that could yield enormous profit if handled well.

More accurately, they had to be treated that way.

The gap in development between nations that professionally managed Gates and applied their byproducts, and those that simply wiped them out as hazards, was the difference between heaven and earth.

And that was why I had thrown myself into the Hunter profession at such a young age.

Hunters would be indispensable to every future industry. To avoid being left behind by the times, I needed to absorb everything related to them as early as possible.

Which is to say…

After all that rambling, what I actually want to get at is this…

…This is an investment. I absolutely cannot regret this.

Even if draining every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠last won of his savings had left him with exactly 921 won in his account.

Even if failing to haul anything worthwhile out of a Gate within a week meant getting kicked out of his studio apartment and living as a street bum!

Kang Yul stopped the hands that had been trembling over the bill and steeled himself — picturing a future where he bathed in fifty-thousand-won bills after a successful Gate run.

"Hoo… okay. I'm calm."

Having recharged his morale with visions of that happy future, Kang Yul looked at the Gate shimmering with blue light before him and thought:

Now that I'm actually about to go in, I'm scared out of my mind…

He was currently living out the number-two cause of Hunter deaths — dying while exploring a newly discovered Gate — so of course his feet refused to move. Especially when he was doing it alone, as a total rookie who'd only awakened as a Hunter yesterday.

…But I still have to go in.

Part of him wanted to tip off a veteran Hunter and enter together, but the value of this Gate was simply too high for that. Practicing the number-one cause of Hunter deaths — getting wrecked after casually announcing your awakening to people around you — carried far too much risk.

So he decided to muster his courage and use the newbie Gate exploration method he'd seen on the Hunter Gallery.

It even made it to concept-post status. Peak tip material.

Kang Yul pulled out the Supernatural Phenomenon Detector he'd bought for a third of his entire fortune at the Hunter Market.

He wasn't planning to walk straight in. The idea was to stick just the arm holding the detector through the entrance and scan for nearby threats. Worst case, he'd only lose one arm.

Losing an arm would still be catastrophic for him right now… but it beat the suicidal alternative of sticking his head in first.

Please let there be nothing near the entrance…!

Click—

He powered on the detector.

Shimmer—!

Then he pushed the arm holding it into the Gate and began the scan.

According to the product description, a full scan took about five minutes and could detect living creatures within a one-kilometer radius…

Five minutes. Just hold out for five minutes.

…There was no room in his head for that kind of rational thought. All he could think was: please let five minutes pass quickly, and please let his arm still be attached when it did.

Ten seconds… one minute… and then, after what felt like an eternity, five minutes finally elapsed.

Bzzzzzt…!!!

The moment he felt the vibration in his hand, he yanked it back out. The detector glowed a soft, gentle green — no living creatures nearby.

"Ha… haha… even just getting in is rough…"

He hadn't even entered the Gate yet, and his workwear was already soaked through with cold sweat. He wanted to change, but he had no spare clothes, and he'd just sweat through them again inside anyway. He decided to go in as he was.

He checked the ground beyond the Gate with his folding shovel for any hidden cliffs or swamps. Only after running through every verification he could manage — and building a reasonable degree of confidence in his safety — did Kang Yul finally set foot inside.

Shimmer—!

And so, with the sensation of crossing over something, the landscape ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠beyond the Gate came into view…

…A cavern?

It was too dark to see clearly, but by the faint shafts of light filtering down from above, he surveyed his surroundings. He was standing in a fairly large cavern, sealed on all sides by rock and earth.

A closed space right from the start… if I'd been even a little careless, I'd be dead.

According to the info posts, when a Gate's interior was underground or enclosed, toxic gas was frequently present — and you were supposed to be careful. Thank god he'd worn the Hunter Mask just in case. Walking in completely clueless would have put him in the ground for real.

What ranking was that on the death list again…?

He couldn't remember exactly, but he was pretty sure it ranked fairly high… anyway.

The good news was that this cavern didn't seem to have any harmful gas built up. If it had, the Hunter Mask would have been flashing red in warning.

Still, better not use any fire, just in case.

Even without toxic gas, plenty of people had died from oxygen deprivation in enclosed spaces. Being careful never hurt.

With residual danger still in mind, Kang Yul switched on the headlamp clipped to his safety helmet. The faint light from the ceiling alone wouldn't be enough for a proper exploration — that was his reasoning.

Click—!

The moment the headlamp came on, Kang Yul doubted his own eyes.

Because the place he'd taken for an underground cavern was actually…

The belly of a living creature…?

Hard as it was to believe, what looked like the bones of a colossal organism jutted from the ceiling and walls wherever the headlight swept. It was as if something enormous had died here long ago, and over countless years, dirt and dust had piled up until the remains became a cavern.

But the real surprise was something else entirely.

And what the hell is that…?

As he scanned the cavern, his gaze stopped where a faint shaft of light from the ceiling touched the ground.

There, in the barren hollow, a single small flower bloomed — the only living thing in the place. And the shape of its blossom looked somehow…

…Like a hamburger?

Unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, the layered mix of orange, green, red, brown, and yellow looked exactly like a burger.

Don't tell me…?

…He almost didn't want to believe it.

There was no way this was the hamburger that supernatural phenomenon had left behind… right?