Rescue Before the Contract

The rescue request arrived before the contract. "Sign it later," I said, and Han Mi-rae's hand froze.

The emergency tent reeked of disinfectant. My torn shirt hung over the back of a chair, and Cha Yu-ri had wrapped my arm in three layers of bandages. The survival confirmation hadn't even finished yet. The Association staff couldn't believe I'd smashed the gate core solo—they flipped through the records over and over. A tank everyone thought was dead staggering out covered in blood? They had reason to doubt.

Han Mi-rae didn't miss the opening. She slid a fresh contract across the table in front of me.

"This isn't a formal deal. It's a Temporary Protection Contract. Before the Association hauls you off like a lab rat, let's put it under my name and block them."

"Oppa?"

Cha Yu-ri's head snapped up immediately.

Han Mi-rae grinned. "Can't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be all stiff with someone who just survived, right?"

"And shoving a contract at a patient first isn't rude?"

"I'll cover the treatment ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠costs."

"You can say that after treatment's done."

Their voices stayed low, but the air in the tent somehow grew noisier.

I bit the end of the bandage and tied it off. Cha Yu-ri grabbed my hand.

"Stay still. I have to do that."

"I can move."

"You can't move."

"What if there are more injured?"

Yu-ri's lips pressed shut for a moment.

Then the tent flap eased open cautiously. Yoon Seo-ah stood there. Dust clung to the ends of her black straight hair. Her ever-pristine gloves were twisted at one wrist. In her hand was still the Partner Contract Termination Agreement—the paper stained with my blood from earlier.

Seo-ah glanced at Han Mi-rae and Cha Yu-ri in turn. Then finally at me.

"Tae-san-ah."

That single word hung strangely late.

I didn't reply. Seo-ah took a step inside.

"Earlier..."

A siren blared from outside. Short, sharp—close enough to seem like a mistake. The tent wall flashed blue.

An Association agent shouted, "Mini-gate outbreak! Alley behind the Temporary Lodging!"

Cha Yu-ri's hand fell from my arm. Han Mi-rae turned with the contract still unfolded. Seo-ah's eyes wavered.

The Temporary Lodging—a rundown business hotel where survivors from the Black Low-Grade Gate had been moved. People whose treatment was done, those waiting for family, kids who hadn't stopped crying yet—they were all inside.

I stood up. Cha Yu-ri pressed my shoulder almost reflexively.

"No. You just smashed a core."

Han Mi-rae blocked my path too. "Hold on. Sign the contract, and I can deploy my security team right away. We need an official guardian."

I eyed the paper in her hand. Clean sheet. Too similar to the termination agreement that had been in front of me moments ago.

"Something came before the contract."

"What?"

Screams erupted outside. I headed for the tent flap.

"Rescue request."

An Association staffer blocked the way. "Hunter Kang Tae-san! No field deployment before survival verification!"

"Then who goes in."

"The official response team is en route. Regulations require you to wait..."

Something slammed into the alley side. Boom! The first-floor glass doors of the business hotel shook entirely. Children's cries spread from inside.

I shoved the agent's shoulder aside. "Regulations later."

The Gravity Hammer Muk-roe stood propped against the ground outside the tent—the thing that had three recovery team guys sweating bullets, unable to budge the handle. I gripped it with my blood-crusted hand. The weight tugged at my arm. My insides still burned hot. But my feet moved.

"Tae-san-ah!"

Seo-ah called out. I didn't turn.

"Get back."

Her face hardened at the words. Back then, it would've been "stand by my side." Not anymore.

"Evac civilians."

Seo-ah swallowed sharply for a split second. Then nodded.

"Got it."

Cha Yu-ri grabbed her shoulder-mounted mini-camera. The recording light was still blinking—auto-streaming to rescue sites. She flipped the switch without hesitation. The red light died.

A nearby staffer blurted, "Yu-ri-ssi, leave it on and the views will..."

"Off."

Her voice dropped. "This isn't a broadcast right now."

Han Mi-rae stared at the unfolded contract, then bit her lip lightly. "Security team, block the hotel rear. Evac civilians first. Contract..." She looked at me. "We'll talk when you come back alive."

"Heard that one earlier."

"This time, I'll wait."

I ran for the alley instead of answering. No armor. Bandages on my shoulder. Gravity Hammer Muk-roe in hand. And the gazes of three women, each for their own reasons, stuck to my back.

The alley depths were already torn by a blue rift. Small size. But no gate was safe just because it was small.

What burst out first was a beast clad in black chitin. Low-slung body, thick forelegs, two curved horns on its head. Built for charging, not hunting.

Civilians who couldn't flee blocked the hotel front. An overturned stroller. A frozen elder. A woman shielding her child, slumped by the door.

The beast scraped the ground with its hooves. Someone yelled, "Block it! Anyone, block it!"

I stepped in front.

"Get back."

My voice wasn't loud. But the nearest woman clutched her kid and dragged herself away.

The beast charged. Short distance. Plenty of time to dodge. But dodging meant death behind me.

I planted Muk-roe and shoved my shoulder forward.

The impact hit before the sound. My ribs thrummed from inside. My soles ground into the asphalt. The wound under the bandages tore open again.

People screamed. The beast's horns gouged into my shoulder. One step. Two. I was pushed back. But I didn't fall.

Black lines pulsed slowly inside the hammerhead. The beast's eyes shook.

I exhaled low. "That's far enough."

I twisted my wrist. Muk-roe's head met the ground. Thud. The shock sank into the earth, then rebounded.

The beast's forelegs buckled. Its charging momentum lost direction and exploded inside its body. The massive frame flew back, slamming into the rift's edge. The alley walls rang.

I advanced another step. It tried to rise again.

By then, Seo-ah reached the hotel doors. Cold sword aura swept aside shattered glass shards.

"This way!"

She evacuated the civilians. Wordlessly, swiftly. Action before apologies.

Cha Yu-ri knelt by a child ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the ground, hooking her heel under him. Camera off. Her hand trembled white instead.

"It's okay. Breathe. Look at sis."

Han Mi-rae's security team parked vehicles at the alley mouth, forming a barricade. Mi-rae strode through puddles in her high heels, shoving people out of the hotel.

"Run if you have time to gawk! I'll handle compensation!"

A few civilians snapped to and moved at her words.

I let out a short laugh. Not much strength left for it, but it felt good.

The beast charged again. This time veering past me toward the civilians. Smart. That made it deadlier.

I yanked Muk-roe back. My body reacted first.

"Seo-ah."

She looked my way.

"Block left."

She froze for an instant. A short order like when we were partners. But no old trust lingered. Just assigning the needed task.

Seo-ah bit her lip and dashed left. "On it."

Sword aura scraped the alley floor. The beast's path bent—just a fraction. Enough.

I met it head-on. Horns aimed for my chest again. Hit.

I didn't dodge this time either. Shock flowed into Muk-roe. My shoulder creaked. Yu-ri screamed my name like a shriek of glass.

"Hunter Kang Tae-san!"

Han Mi-rae swallowed a curse. "That guy's actually insane."

I gripped the hammer handle tighter. "Any injured?"

Seo-ah checked the civilians and yelled back, "None!"

"Good enough."

Muk-roe hummed black. I seized its horn with my left hand, raised the hammer with my right. Heavy. That weight anchored me.

"Go home."

The hammer fell. Boom! The beast's head cratered the ground. The rebounding shock shoved into the rift.

The blue portal warped. The horned body hurtled back with its own force, vanishing inside. The rift folded in on itself like tearing paper.

Silence fell for a moment. Then belated breaths returned. Someone sobbed. Someone collapsed.

I leaned on Muk-roe's handle. Blood flowed again.

Cha Yu-ri sprinted over first. "Why don't you ever listen!"

"I'm alive."

"Is that what you call it?"

She unwound my bandages. Her fingers were rough. No pretty smile for the camera.

Han Mi-rae stood beside her. The contract was half-crumpled in her fist now.

"Oppa."

"Oppa again."

"Gonna have to change the contract terms."

"Told you, not doing it."

"No. It's pricier now. You just proved my calculations wrong in front of everyone."

Cha Yu-ri looked up. "Contract talk now?"

"After treatment."

"Treatment ends when I say."

Their gazes clashed again. I sighed.

An Association staffer ran up. He glanced between me, Muk-roe, and the fallen gate remnants, swallowing dryly.

"Confirming site lead. Who is Hunter Kang Tae-san's guardian?"

Han Mi-rae shot her hand up. "Me."

Cha Yu-ri chimed in simultaneously. "Treatment lead is me."

Seo-ah's lips parted a beat late. "I..."

The termination agreement was still in her hand. The paper blocked her words.

I told the staffer, "None."

Seo-ah's face tightened faintly. But she said nothing. Instead, she turned to check remaining civilians at the hotel entrance.

She hadn't run. I saw that.

Across the alley, a phone lay dropped inside a convenience store window. Screen still recording.

No contract, no termination paper, no dead broadcast cam in the footage. Just one clear scene.

A man standing mid-alley, no gear. Cowering civilians behind him. The charging monster rebounding off him, crumbling.

Someone muttered in a trembling voice. "That guy... a shield?"

I slung the bloodied Muk-roe over my shoulder.

"Nah."

All three women's gazes stabbed into me at once. I walked out of the alley.

"Patient who doesn't need a stretcher right now."