Chapter 3
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: The Villain Turned Away After Seeing My Weapon
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“Are you Lee Do-ha?”
The moment I was about to finish registering at the counter, the bustling lobby air sank in an instant.
A chilling, razor-sharp wave of mana crept over my skin like centipedes crawling across it.
A shiver ran down my spine as I turned my head, only to find a dark elf woman in pitch-black attire staring down at me.
Hunter Association Headquarters Chief Irmi.
“Yes? Can I help you?”
“I need you to come with me for a moment. This place is dangerous right now.”
Snap!
With a light flick of her fingers, the surrounding noise cut off like a lie, and the shapes of passing civilians began to blur and smear together.
[Area Control]
A unique domain only S-grade or higher hunters could deploy.
“What's going on? Did I commit a crime or something?”
“No, this is to protect you.”
Irmi thrust out her tablet screen with a rigidly tense expression.
The footage showed a savagely torn front door and a living room trashed beyond recognition. The furniture and layout were unmistakably my own home.
“Your house was just attacked. They pinpointed your personal information.”
My mind went blank in an instant.
I'd just left the house a moment ago? Wasn't this supposed to be just some pocket money gig?
For villains to storm my home in broad daylight over a single blacksmith? That's insane.
Reading my stunned expression, Irmi swiped to the next screen.
Hans was still lingering in the lobby, not having left the Association yet.
He was crouched in a corner amid the crowd, clutching the weapon I'd given him like a treasure chest, grinning from ear to ear like a child.
“The weapon you handed to that F-grade hunter, Hans, was the signal flare.”
“Ah...”
“The moment you gave it to him, the external villains' eyes locked on.”
Irregulars that twist mana flow to invert an item's grade entirely.
It was only a matter of time before the hyenas sniffing out the money came charging for the source—or rather, their reaction was suspiciously slow.
Finally, it clicked.
To me, it was just clearing out storage and a good deed, but to others, it looked like a strategic asset leak that could upend the power balance.
Before her explanation even finished, the VIP elevator arrived.
We headed straight to the top-floor conference room without delay.
Ding dong.
The moment the doors opened, overwhelming presences crashed over me like waves, crushing my entire body and stealing my breath.
Korea's seven top guild leaders stood in a row, waiting for me.
They eyed me like a walking treasure trove—or prey they wanted to devour on the spot—their gazes gleaming with raw greed.
“You're that blacksmith, right? No need for conditions—here's a blank check.”
“Don't make me laugh! I called dibs first!”
Korea's strongest bickering over little old me.
The murderous intent squeezed my throat from all sides.
Right then—
Thud!
A heavy vibration shook the entire building, rumbling up through the floor.
The chattering guild leaders' mouths snapped shut in eerie unison.
The tightly shut door at the back of the conference room creaked open, and an elderly man in a blood-soaked coat stepped out.
Korea's Hunter Ranking No. 1.
Hunter Association President Steel Guardian.
Red droplets fell from the hem of his coat, staining the pristine marble floor.
“I've taken care of the rats around the Association. You're safe now.”
He said it so casually as he looked at me.
Implying he'd single-handedly erased a villain group that had been lying in wait for me, without a trace.
Before I knew it, the president stood right in front of me.
His beast-like, piercing eyes scanned my body from head to toe.
A chill prickled down my spine.
There wasn't a speck of surprise in his gaze at discovering new talent.
Just weary certainty, like it was inevitable.
“Thanks for coming. I've been waiting.”
That dry remark made it clear.
“...You knew?”
“Did you think there was any corner of this tiny land my eyes couldn't reach?”
The president tossed aside his bloodied leather gloves with a smirk.
“I turned a blind eye because you wanted to live quietly.”
I was speechless.
I'd thought I'd hidden thoroughly, safe behind the mask of anonymity.
But it was just my delusion.
From the start, I'd been dancing in this monster's palm.
If he hadn't allowed it, my peaceful daily life would've been shattered long ago.
“Still, you're a lucky one. Coming here on your own instead of fleeing overseas.”
The president slumped into the head seat and asked.
“Most get scared and bolt to America or Europe, right? Doesn't it seem safer there?”
“Not really.”
I shook my head firmly.
America.
“Land of the free” was ancient history from the days tigers smoked pipes.
A chaotic market where mega-corporations hire both hunters and villains alike.
If a personal craftsman like me dropped into that den of corporate villains hiding behind “legality,” the outcome was obvious.
Kidnapped to some underground bunker, sketching blueprints till I dropped dead, then discarded.
“I can't stand places without clear friend-or-foe identification. At least here, allies and enemies are distinct.”
His eyes narrowed at my response.
He fell silent for a beat, then burst into hearty laughter.
“Kuhahaha! You see it clearly! Better the devil you know than a shiny hell, eh?”
He nodded, clearly pleased with my answer.
“Wise choice. The Association will guarantee your safety completely. You just focus on crafting as much as you want.”
My heart felt secure in that moment. No stronger shield existed.
Korea's safest fortress was right here: Association HQ.
But then the president gripped my shoulder tight and added in a low voice.
“Just one request.”
“Name it.”
Gazing out the window at the street swarming with people like ants, he spoke.
“Make sure this country's hunters don't die pointless deaths over gear anymore.”
His eyes shone with genuine sincerity.
The horrifying annual hunter mortality rates from the news weighed heavy on his shoulders.
I clenched my fist and nodded solemnly.
No more reclusive garage blacksmith.
Meanwhile, on the rooftop of the abandoned building across from Association HQ.
A-grade villain Shadow, hiding in the darkness, panted heavily in thrilled terror.
“Huff... huff... Monster of an old man.”
Just moments ago, the president had swept through like a storm, vaporizing his subordinates without a trace.
Thanks to his stealth specialized for reconnaissance, he'd barely clung to life, trembling.
“Hoo... Target reconfirm.”
He raised a special scope with shaking hands.
Through the lens, Lee Do-ha's figure in the VIP room came into sharp focus.
“Definite match. Great Success Blacksmith.”
His finger hovered over the comm button, hesitating.
He knew pressing it once meant no turning back.
It was his duty to the organization delaying his little sister's illness—and absolute obedience to those holding his life in their hands.
As Shadow's finger wavered over the button, his gaze drifted to the lobby below.
“...Hans?”
A middle-aged man clutching shabby gear, beaming like a kid.
His one and only childhood friend, the fool who'd held down the fort even after Shadow turned villain and left the village.
That blacksmith had gifted him a weapon for free.
And Shadow had seen it clearly.
The miraculous moment when life returned to Hans's despairing eyes after a full decade.
If I report... the blacksmith gets kidnapped, and Hans's weapon confiscated.
The organization would recover the weapon for evidence disposal, then kill Hans quietly.
Hans wouldn't just lose hope again—he'd lose his only life.
He bit his lip till it bled, lost in agony.
Betraying the organization might cut off his sister's treatment.
His own life could fly away like a fly's.
But just this once—
[Static Shadow, report.]
“......”
[Situation? Target secured?]
Shadow burned the image of his friend in the lobby into his eyes one last time.
Hans was smiling. A truly long-lost, serene, happy smile.
Yeah, that was enough.
I'll rot in the dark, but you live in the light.
“Operation failed. Repeat, operation failed.”
[What?]
“Association President Steel Guardian intervened personally. Approach impossible.”
“Target currently moving to VIP sector. Tracking not possible.”
[What? The president? That's not in the intel! Shadow! You sure you confirmed?]
“Apologies. Will report again after returning to base.”
HQ's roar threatened to burst his eardrums, but Shadow cut the comm coldly.
Click.
The device went dark.
The price for a false report would be brutal—maybe worse than death.
But he just perched precariously on the rooftop railing, gazing at the night sky with a bitter smile.
“Debt paid, blacksmith.”
The hope you gave my friend.
I guarded it with my life.
“So Hans, you...”
He whispered softly toward his friend one last time.
“Survive, no matter what. Don't end up like me.”
A chill wind blew.
When the darkness lifted and moonlight bathed the rooftop, not even a shadow remained.
That night.
The first and last lie from a man cloaked in shadows.