Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Owner of the Ghost Sword
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After the major contract with the White Tiger Guild was sealed, Miracle Management's finances had truly taken wing.
Baek Chang-gi made a huge splash by promoting that two S-rank Hunters were now affiliated with the White Tiger Guild.
Of course, it was an undeniable fact that they were affiliated on a six-month rental basis, so it wasn't a lie.
But the ripple effect was enormous.
The White Tiger Guild's stock price skyrocketed, and their prestige pierced the heavens.
In response to the White Tiger Guild's promotion, the Guillotine Guild naturally lodged a protest with Siwoo, not hiding their displeasure.
[Representative Han, is this how you do business? You said you'd give us the first chance!]
"In exchange, for the next rental contract, we'll give the Guillotine Guild priority rights. And we'll rent out Lee Jia as well."
[...Really?]
It was an offer to rent out an A-rank Hunter alongside them.
The Guillotine Guild happily accepted the proposal—far from complaining, they welcomed it—and things wrapped up on a positive note.
There was no reason to refuse a 1+1 deal that added an A-rank to an S-rank.
It was actually a steal for them.
Once all the contracts were finalized, Siwoo checked his account and saw the 62 billion won contract deposit from the White Tiger Guild hit his balance. Without hesitation, he rose from his seat.
Money wasn't meant to be hoarded—it was meant to be spent. And on something truly worthwhile.
He headed straight for the Hunter-exclusive offline auction house.
This auction house, run by the Association, was a social club for the elite—ordinary people couldn't even enter.
When Siwoo arrived at the venue packed with prominent figures from politics, business, and famous Hunters, an Association staffer rushed out barefoot to escort him to the VIP room.
"Representative Han! Welcome. We've been waiting for you."
Amid such lavish treatment, Siwoo felt a profound sense of the times changing as he walked on in silence. Just a few months ago, he'd been turned away at the door; now, he was being treated like royalty.
True to its reputation as an Association-run auction, a flood of items came up for bid.
Every single one was priced in the hundreds of millions.
From master-crafted top-grade gear infused with the artisan's soul to rare artifacts dredged from deep-sea dungeons—an eye-dazzling lineup.
"Our next item is the Azure Clarity Bracelet, which boosts mana regeneration. Bidding starts at 500 million won."
The moment the item he wanted appeared, Siwoo unhesitatingly raised his paddle.
"1.2 billion."
Siwoo's bid more than doubled the starting price, and the room fell silent as if doused with cold water.
The auctioneer tried to coax higher bids, but to no avail.
'Good. Got the one for Jia.'
After the hammer fell, more items paraded onto the stage.
"Next up is the Guardian Pendant. This artifact generates an A-rank defensive barrier when it detects a lethal attack on the wearer. Starting bid: 1 billion won."
'This is it.'
"2 billion."
Siwoo's straight double again sent murmurs rippling through the auction hall.
"Whoa, how loaded is that guy?"
"That's Han Siwoo from Miracle. They say he's raking it in these days—looks like it's true."
But this time, competitors jumped in.
It was a life-saving item, so it drew a crowd.
"2.1 billion!"
"2.2 billion!"
"2.5 billion!"
Paddles shot up from all directions.
But Siwoo didn't bat an eye.
"3 billion."
Once more, he jacked up the price without flinching, and the room finally quieted.
He'd shelled out three times the starting price, but Siwoo's face showed no regret.
"3 billion—sold!"
If anything, he looked exhilarated, thrilled at securing the item he wanted.
He ignored the piercing glares from the bidders below.
"Next item."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ As the auction continued, a sword blade was wheeled out on a cart, exuding an air of nobility as if crafted with a master's utmost care.
Laughter erupted in the hall.
A red aura seeped from the blade, amplifying its aura of priceless value.
Everyone swallowed hard, eyes gleaming.
But as the auctioneer explained, sighs filled the room, and the greedy stares faded.
"This is a sword of unknown origin. Appraisal shows its durability and cutting power are off the charts—immeasurable grade. However, it has a fatal flaw."
The auctioneer continued with a troubled expression.
"Mana conductivity is 0%. No matter how much mana you pour in, it rejects it outright—a total failure. A weapon a Hunter can't empower with mana? What a shame. It's visually stunning, so I recommend it as a display piece."
Mocking snickers broke out around the room.
A weapon that didn't take mana? Beyond flawed—it was just scrap metal.
"Starting bid: 5 million won."
Everyone looked away; no one raised a paddle.
The mood screamed no-sale—until a blue info window floated over Siwoo's eyes.
👁️ INSIGHT EYE 👁️ [Item: Ghost Sword Star Blade] [Grade: Immeasurable] [Trait: Mana Reject] [Release Condition: Resonates with the owner's ghostly energy.] Siwoo's lips curved faintly upward.
'Resonates with the owner's ghostly energy? That means its owner is already set.'
"5 million."
Siwoo raised his paddle, and murmurs rose from below—mocking whispers about him blowing his newfound cash.
But Siwoo paid them no mind.
His head was filled only with thoughts of the sword's potential.
Gazing at the blade wreathed in red aura, he felt intrigued at the thought of finding its owner.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The outskirts of Pocheon City in Gyeonggi Province.
An abandoned factory district, utterly cut off from the city's glamour—like forsaken land.
Among them, the Third Monster Dismantling Plant, reeking worst of stench and noise, was known as the slaughterhouse.
It was the infamous 3D job: butchering Hunter-hunted monster corpses, skinning them, sorting byproducts.
In one blood-and-rot-soaked corner of the workshop, a woman bustled about.
Kim Ye-eun, 23 this year.
She wore a rubber apron stained with blood and grime, standing before a monster corpse as tall as she was.
Her tightly bound hair was matted with sweat, her slender fingers callused and scarred.
Her eyes were dull as dead fish.
"Hey, Kim Ye-eun!"
The shift supervisor lumbered over, bellowing.
He prodded the hide she'd painstakingly prepped with his filthy boot, picking a fight.
"Scratches on the hide. You blind? Do you know how much this is worth?!"
Ye-eun bit her lip.
"Thought I'd go easy 'cause you're an ex-national athlete, but you're getting cocky? Do it right! Before I dock your pay."
The supervisor smirked vilely and shoved her shoulder.
The scratches weren't her doing.
Anyone could see he'd made them on purpose passing by, but she hung her head without retort.
"I'm sorry..."
In the past, she'd been Korea's beloved Fencing Queen.
The youngest national team member, two-time Asian Games gold medalist, Olympic champion.
Experts praised her in unison.
They buzzed that upon awakening as an adult, she'd be at least A-rank.
The true queen would rise.
The public had no doubts about her awakening; sponsors lined up, fanning the hype.
As everyone chattered, Ye-eun believed it too, her dreams swelling.
She fantasized about the future unfolding, a brilliant life ahead.
But fate was cruel.
On her eighteenth birthday, the Awakening Center's gauge stayed silent.
No rank—not even an awakening.
Further tests brought deeper despair.
Mana insensitivity.
Her body was congenitally cursed, unable to sense or hold mana.
The fall was instant. Expectations turned to mockery, praise to scorn.
Sponsors who'd clung to her demanded penalties and fled; media that lauded her now headlined "The Fallen Prodigy."
Her parents, banking on her success, borrowed heavily and went bankrupt. Her little sister, bullied at school over it, collapsed into a vegetative state.
The sister who'd always beamed with pride in her—Ye-eun ground her teeth, taking any job to earn money.
And now, she wielded a butcher knife on monster carcasses.
"I'll redo it."
She bowed ninety degrees to the supervisor.
Then returned to her station and resumed work.
Sweeping back sweat-matted hair, she gripped the knife again.
Fingers once delicately wielding the foil now clenched a crude cleaver.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ During break time, Ye-eun crouched in a dim corner behind the factory, smoking.
Her bloodied hands clutching the cigarette made her look precarious.
She stared blankly at her left hand.
The hand that had claimed countless glories.
Now scarred and beast-bloodied.
'Maybe I should just die.'
A thought she had dozens of times daily. How long must she live like this? What had she done so wrong?
She exhaled a deep sigh, smoke billowing—
"Hey, Ye-eun. What're you doing alone? Looking all mopey."
Three or four sleazy guys shuffled over in slippers.
She knew them well.
E-rank Hunters who loitered at the plant, handling corpse transport.
Thugs who barely qualified as Hunters.
"It's payday for bro today. How 'bout drinks? I'll buy meat."
One sidled up, leering stickily.
His eyes slimed over her neckline peeking through her bloodied uniform, her sweat-glossed collarbone.
"Hey, don't be rude to Her Majesty the Queen. We gotta escort her proper."
"Haha! Right? The queen with zero mana affinity—no talent whatsoever."
Another cackled, reaching for her shoulder.
Thwack!
Ye-eun smacked his wrist away reflexively, glaring.
Her speed was uncanny for a non-Awakened; the guy flinched back in surprise.
"Don't touch me."
Her voice was ice-cold, a chill killing intent flickering in her eyes.
The man startled at the eerie vibe but flushed with humiliated rage. A non-Awakened daring this?
"Y-you crazy bitch... Hitting me?"
"Whoa, the old queen's got fire!"
"Mana-less cripple with sky-high pride."
One sparked a tiny flame in his palm threateningly; the others snickered, spectating.
No one thought to intervene. They were enjoying it.
Ye-eun clenched her fists. Nails dug into flesh, blood welling.
'Endure. Endure... Endure.'
"C'mon, let's go. Boring."
"Tch. All pride, no fun."
The Hunters lost interest, spat at her feet, and left.
Jeers and laughter stabbed like daggers at their retreating backs.
Ye-eun glared after them, biting her lip.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Late night, after everyone clocked out.
At the factory's rear faucet shrouded in darkness, Ye-eun washed her hands alone in cold water.
She scrubbed brutally with a rough sponge, but the dark red grime under her nails wouldn't budge.
Like the misfortune clinging to her life.
"Hic... Euugh..."
Pent-up sobs burst forth.
She ran the tap full blast, muffling her wails.
Keeping the cries from leaking out amid the water's roar.
Flashes of herself swinging the foil under dazzling lights.
Days of medals around her neck, crowds roaring.
Times when the world was at her feet.
But the mirror showed only a blood-stinking butcher—a failure.
'What did I do wrong? I just worked hard. Gave it my all till I dropped.'
"Why me..."
Her eyes quivered.
Sorrow boiled into hot rage, then black hatred.
Faces of mocking Hunters, the supervisor who'd scratched the hide, everyone who'd discarded her like trash.
'I want to kill them.'
She loathed viscerally all who'd scorned and trampled her.
Slice them all. Stab, slash, tear to shreds.
"Aaaargh! Die, all of you!!"
Ye-eun screamed, kicking a plastic water jug with all her might.
Crack!
It shattered, shards flying.
In that instant, pitch-black miasma began rising from her body.
Her eyes bloodshot red, killing intent poured from her.
Ghostly energy enveloped her, as if cursing the whole world.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ At the same time, in Miracle Management's CEO office.
The antique sword enshrined in the display case began to vibrate faintly.
Hummm... Hummmm...
As if reacting to distant cries.
The dark red blade glowed dimly, resonating as if calling its master.