Killer Beetle Debut
Gates like the Killer Beetle one were a whole different beast from towers—phenomena seen as outright threats to humanity's prosperity. Unlike towers, they popped up randomly in unrelated locations, spewing out monsters before vanishing once their role was fulfilled. There were radars that could detect the specific mana waves they generated upon formation, but even the best ones weren't foolproof. Gates that slipped past detection algorithms, ones with faint waves, or those hidden in environments radars couldn't penetrate—plenty of ways they evaded notice. To the public, these terrorist-like anomalies inspired sheer terror. And that was without even touching the grim rumors of gates in far-off places like China, Russia, America, or Brazil that never closed, endlessly pouring out monsters and encroaching on the surroundings.
Even the occasional undiscovered gates in cities were headaches in their own right. No wonder analysts claimed hunters owed their current fame and status to gates. Lawyers, judges, prosecutors, doctors—none topped the "hunter," the king of the once-mocked "s" professions. For hunters, a conveniently located gate of appropriate rank was a goldmine. Low risk, minimal damage, monster cores to harvest, and rewards to boot. High-rank hunters wouldn't bother with them, of course. But for F- to D-rankers, low-grade gates were a godsend.
Kim Ju-seong, an E-rank hunter, was a textbook case. In the suburbs a bit outside Incheon city proper, he and four other ragtag hunters like himself had gathered, bracing for an E-rank gate. Talk about lucky. Not some F-rank dump, but an E-rank, split five ways? They could coast for a month without another job. Everyone was thrilled at the prospect.
But they had no idea. This barren field with just one apartment complex nearby, and these five hunters—what devastation the gate would bring them.
"Four minutes left. Let's get ready."
At one hunter's words, Ju-seong drew his sword. They were all strangers, fresh acquaintances eyeing each other as rivals. But in front of a gate, basic cooperation came first. They weren't letting their guard down. The "Hwarang" group that detected it had rated it precisely, drawing a crowd that matched. With higher-rank gates spawning simultaneously elsewhere, they'd snagged this gem by exploiting the gap.
"Huh? What's that? Hold on, that kid..."
Ju-seong, with his sharp senses, picked up on the figure approaching them. About a hundred meters out, face hidden under a hood. Height like an elementary schooler. Someone should've stepped up to warn her off, but site control was in chaos—the team was detouring via another gate.
Right on cue, the gate revealed itself. With manpower tight, no one could spare a moment to intervene.
"Kid, gate! Run!"
She'd see it from there and bolt, right? Reassuring himself, Ju-seong regripped his sword and stared at the gate—
Thud!
He collapsed on his ass. What he saw: a tiny, palm-sized thing zipping right up to his face.
Low total mana, but its tiny size, blistering speed, and needle-sharp horn make it a nightmare of evasion and lethality—earning four danger stars.
This "small insect monster," known only from foreign news and papers, had made its Korea debut. And then...
"...Huh...?"
Ju-seong, who should've died without even registering it, stared at the dagger that had bisected the Killer Beetle right before his eyes. Not thrown by anyone—it floated on its own. And it wasn't alone. Multiple daggers, each moving independently, battling the beetles.
Killer Beetles were no joke. High physical specs and toughness from condensed mana in their tiny bodies, plus their aerial agility meant attacks barely scratched them. Physics at work—most damage canceled as their light forms bounced away. No wonder a monster with sub-E-rank mana topped danger charts.
Yet here they were, wings pinned, skewered mid-flap by daggers.
What ability is this? Sword-controlling magic?
"No, this is..."
Ju-seong realized. He'd seen this unbelievable scene before.
"Gallery troll..."
The telekinetic legend who'd recently wrecked the Awakener Gallery with flashy feats. Hunters frequented it and Hunter Gallery for intel shares, and its buzz had even hit the news with the "100 Psybugi" incident. Famous hunter YouTubers sent endless love calls for collabs but got ghosted, clueless about the identity.
That powerhouse was saving him in this backwater neighborhood?
"Who among us... I gotta thank them at least..."
Ju-seong scanned the group. But everyone was as stunned as him, asses planted. No sign of the suspected telekinetic.
I'd shaken the biggest awakener community to its core again. Views were lower than my last post since it was fresh, but like-to-view and comment ratios were skyrocketing. Obviously. The Killer Beetle mess was a tragedy fated to claim over a hundred victims at spawn. Stopping it with just five daggers? No wonder the hype.
No casualties, but with the spotlight on this first micro-insect monster debut, news panels were ranting about potential damage if I hadn't shown.
"Heh."
Damn, my ego's inflating again. Korea bowing in awe, foreign press stunned. I'm that guy~ World-saving plan progressing smoothly. Almost botched the date, but hey.
Result's what matters. Regression right into Killer Beetle timing? Perfect setup for me. Their light airborne nature dodges physical hits. Blades struggle, but telekinesis changes everything. Disrupt wingbeats, and they're sitting ducks.
How do you telekinetically tag fast tiny bugs one by one? Worked fine. Instinct, I guess. Pro tip: weak skin between back and neck shell for breathing—stab there, easy kill. Turned a catastrophe into a snack. What can I say? I'm kinda OP.
Ding! Ding ding! Ding! Ding ding ding!
My absurdly OP self was now flooded with friend requests. Hunter guilds, PMCs, conglomerates, city halls, YouTubers, streamers, reporters, you name it. Even before this, messages trickled in. Now alarms nonstop.
Keep this up, world-saving might be easy? Plus, telekinetically harvested Killer Beetle cores. Jackpot. Research labs alone would pay a fortune. Taxes take half, sure.
"Whew. Control's sharper than before...?"
Truth be told, I hadn't expected to handle a Killer Beetle gate this casually. Tower mana rewards helped, but bigger tank doesn't mean faster fill—early awakening body felt iffy. Raw grit pulled through.
"Ah... terrifying, my own talent."
Marveling at my godlike genius, even gods would envy.
Then.
