Hero Emerges
BOOM—!!!
The thunderous roar of the gate's boundary crumbling echoed through the air. No time to waste.
I kicked off the dirt floor and charged ahead.
I'd arrived in a massive underground cavern at the heart of the forest.
Is that the main core? A solar eclipse pattern etched on its surface writhed ominously.
Main Core is mana-reactive. Overload accelerates as ambient mana levels rise.
"Tell me the exact limit on usable mana output. I'll cap it right before the core blows."
Recommended mana usage: 20% of maximum output.
Just 20%? Way too stingy.
Contaminated blood wolves layered in formation before the core.
No Song Ji-yul to punch holes in their lines right now. Only one option: slaughter them all and carve a path.
Let's go.
"Grrr...!" "Awoooo!!!"
My left hand spewed Crimson Flame with all its fury. My right wrapped in Magic Sword Aura, slicing through the throats of any blockers.
Mana reaction surging. 30 seconds until overload threshold.
Thirty seconds left. Gotta end it before then.
Scorching Crimson Flame intertwined perfectly with the icy chill of Magic Sword Aura.
The song of ice and fire reached its crescendo.
KABOOM—!!!
Behind the charred and shredded monster corpses, the main core lay exposed.
I clenched my fist tight.
A life without roaring flames or projecting sword energy.
I'd lived my whole life without mana. All I had was unbreakable willpower.
Thirteen years in the orphanage.
I slammed my weight into a bare-knuckled punch dead center on the core.
CRACK—!!
A fracture spiderwebbed across the tough shell.
Ten years in the mines.
I twisted my hips and drove in the second punch.
Contaminated mana surged through the cracks.
Twenty-three years total.
Had I ever clenched my fist this hard since birth?
One final blow.
I poured everything into it.
BOOM—!!!
Mana scattered into the atmosphere like it was finding its place.
Dazzling light flooded my vision.
"Huff... huff..."
Ambient mana instability and user's mana have returned to normal levels.
The massive main core shattered into pieces. The light faded with it.
Mana interference lifted. Gate stabilization in progress.
Blood dripped from my shredded knuckles, torn by the shards.
Ah, I'm beat. Just wanna collapse.
The forest fell deathly silent.
Through the thick dust, Song Ji-yul emerged, trudging over with dirt smeared across her cheeks.
"Looks like you cleared the sub-node fine."
"Yeah. It was tough, so I burned through all my iron balls."
Her eyes looked so aggrieved. And she'd pocketed a few byproducts on the way back, too.
"You scavenged pretty thriftily on the return trip."
"Basic freelancer virtue. But..."
Song Ji-yul's griping trailed off as her gaze locked on the back of my hand.
"You seriously smashed it barehanded like an idiot?"
"No buddy to cover my flanks."
Song Ji-yul rummaged in her tactical vest pocket without a word.
Handkerchief? Nope.
She held out a crumpled convenience store wet wipe.
"Take this as a poor substitute."
Ridiculous. I couldn't help but burst out laughing.
It'd probably just spread the blood more, but her effort—dust-caked as she was—touched me. I took it meekly.
"You read my timing perfectly back there."
"...Yeah. First time anyone's signaled me like that."
Her voice carried the weight of all her hard days.
"Usually, I have to gauge angles solo. No one covers your surroundings."
Low-rank freelancer life. Scraping by alone.
Was it a sudden impulse?
I don't want to lose someone I can trust at my back.
Sentiments overrode my usual calculation.
"How about you handle my blind spots from now on?"
Song Ji-yul froze. A radiant smile I'd never seen lit her face.
"Appreciate the offer."
She stepped closer.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-three."
"What? You're younger than me?"
Song Ji-yul's eyes widened round. Then came her cheeky tone.
"I'll call you oppa from now on."
"Call me whatever's comfy."
"You call me comfy too. No more 'Song Ji-yul-ssi' distancing."
"...Got it. Ji-yul."
Just her name still felt awkward on my tongue.
My strength gave out.
Thud!
"Whew."
Crisis averted. I could lie down for a bit.
Then Ji-yul peeked over.
Her guard was way down. She'd never made a face like that before.
"Thanks... oppa."
After a brief rest, we headed for the exit.
With the tension eased, Ji-yul popped an earbud back in one ear and asked,
"You listen to music a lot?"
"Not tons, but I dig getting lost in it."
"Who's your top pick?"
"You know The Weekday?"
Ji-yul halted dead. Her eyes went wider than when we fought the corrosion king.
"Whoa! You know them! I'm a fan too! But I prefer the tracks from album two over 'Blinding Lights.' Give 'em a listen."
"That vibe hits different."
Pulling out music talk made her eyes sparkle like Choi Hayan's...
"Speaking of, you know Rachel Park? The Korean-American hunter who snagged a Grammy this time?"
"Her latest album nailed that digicore well-made sound."
"Whoa."
Ji-yul stared me down wordlessly. Then one corner of her mouth quirked up.
"Jackpot. We're total music mates."
As we resumed trudging along, she slipped an earbud into my ear.
Missed my window to refuse.
Music flowed over the sunset-hued portal.
Not long before the core's destruction.
Hunter Association headquarters situation room.
An emergency alert from the Management Bureau painted the wall screens blood red.
"Management Bureau observatory emergency dispatch! Yongsan-gu D-rank gate—internal mana density has breached critical threshold! Estimated collapse in 20 minutes. Dungeon break confirmed!"
The operator's frantic report froze the entire room. The center chief seized the mic and bellowed,
"Twenty minutes? You kidding? While mana boiled over like that, what the hell was Management doing?!"
"The waves broadcasting from the gate exterior were fully modulated by someone. They overlaid fake data to blind us while the detonator ticked!"
A deliberate terror plot. Even for a D-rank gate, its spot in Seoul's heart—Yongsan—made it deadly. With crowds packed tight, monsters flooding downtown would rack up thousands of casualties minimum.
Situation room second floor. Command center sealed by full-wall glass. The association chairman's nameplate sat on the desk.
"ID everyone trapped inside."
"One party just evac'd with wounded. Left are a solo with special clearance and one freelancer."
"Who?"
"D-rank hunter Song Ji-yul, and... unregistered irregular grade, question mark—Baek Sa-eon."
"Seal off a 5-km radius around Yongsan-gu. Issue max-level evac order. Deploy all standby strike teams and nearby guild assets immediately."
"Yes sir!"
"Han I-seo... playing it like this, huh."
As the association brass scrambled,
Choi Hayan mumbled, face practically glued to her monitor.
"......"
Her eyes fixed on a single blue dot smack in the center.
And as break loomed, cheers erupted from the situation room.
"Terminated!!"
"Dungeon break terminated!!!"
And now. Outside the gate barricade.
"Huh?"
"You see that mana graph? Shot up insane then flatlined in a blink?"
"No way... cleared? Break's over?"
A Management Bureau staffer's trembling voice shattered the silence. The control line was pure pandemonium.
Evac coordinators. Vanguard teams from the big three guilds rushing in late.
Flash—! Flash—!
Internet streamers and media camera flashes in a frenzy.
A dungeon break nearly erupting in central Seoul. A national disaster averted.
The whole Republic of Korea had eyes on this moment.
"Tsk tsk. Can't even control a single D-rank gate, almost nuked Yongsan."
Myth Guild's Mapo-gu manager, B-rank hunter Park Jin-cheol sneered openly. Mapo and Yongsan were neighbors.
Yongsan was government turf, but Iron Wall Guild held sway there too.
An Iron Wall hunter snapped back sharply.
"Watch your mouth. Our response team could've handled it."
"If you'd been a bit later, we'd all be corpses. Late 'response'? Management and Association are legends at dragging asses."
Freelancers jeered too.
"Wonder what happened to that cocky solo guy?"
"Dead. Wasn't in the evac crowd."
VMMM—!
The pitch-black portal surface convulsed violently.
The murmurs filling the perimeter vanished in an instant.
Hundreds of eyes snapped to the gate. Dozens of camera lenses auto-focused instinctively.
Heavy footsteps crossed the gate's boundary.
CLANG—!
A bulky metal hunk tumbled pathetically onto the asphalt.
The wrecked mana interferometer sparked as it rolled. Main core fragments scattered beside it.
Everyone's breath caught.
Emerging from the portal: a man caked head to toe in dirt and blood.
Bare hands dripping blood. No other weapons.
Faint flickers of flame and sword aura mana danced over his fists.
The first to react was the C-rank leader who'd blocked me earlier.
Couldn't even bluster anymore—just backpedaled.
Cheonlang and Iron Wall vets were no different.
Battle-hardened survivors, yet none could reach for a weapon.
Instinct screamed: provoke him, and your head flies.
Pin-drop silence, not even swallows audible.
Dozens of lenses. Millions beyond them watching.
All eyes on me alone.
Cha Do-yeon's flames. Ryu Jin-hyuk's sword aura. All stolen from others.
But what ended it all? Me, purely.
Cleaner, unawakened, error, irregular.
Call me what you want. Standing above them now was hunter Baek Sa-eon, period.
The Management head stammered,
"Wh-what the hell are you...!"
I wiped my bloody knuckles across my jaw.
Stared straight into the cameras broadcasting nationwide and spoke.
"No one noticed, so a bomb was rolling around central Seoul."
I shrugged lightly.
"Did the dirty work like a good cleaner."
Before Korea's top guild hunters. Management vanguard.
Live feed under countless eyes.
I strolled past the control line leisurely.
"Clean up your own backyard. If I have to step in next time, the bill'll be steep."
No one blocked my path.
No one spoke to me.
No one moved.
Only the cameras silently trailed my sweat-and-blood-soaked back.
The footage beamed across the nation.
Major dailies' headlines wrote themselves in minutes.
In a world rotten with injustice, an unnamed hero had finally stepped into the spotlight.
What're you staring at?
Hero's here, you fucking bastards.