Gate Exploration
Yoo Sera's eyes went wide at Yoo Haneul's sudden remark.
O-fan-mu. As someone who'd made a living from internet streaming before gates started popping up—and who still did occasional broadcasts as a hunter—Sera knew exactly what it meant. "What color panties today?" It was a cheeky question fans used to toss at streamers back in the day. The queries always came out of nowhere: right when the stream started, during opening chit-chat to draw viewers, while grilling meat, playing games, in end-of-stream talk, or even as the broadcast ended.
Reactions varied wildly too. Some banned on sight, others kicked them out, a few fired back playfully, and some answered straight-up. Sera fell into the playful retort camp. When the timing didn't fit, she'd defuse the chat by honestly describing the design. Like when she was apologizing for a screw-up. That's when the o-fan-mu floodgates would open, but Sera would deadpan her underwear details and calm the storm.
Sharing panty designs? No big deal. She was a VTuber whose face no one knew: Kurokami Seira. Her voice wasn't uniquely distinctive either—she figured she could yell on the street without getting caught. Her channel wasn't massive anyway. So she'd thought her real self was safe behind the avatar, letting her answer freely.
But now? Cold sweat beaded down her back.
O-fan-mu? To Sera, mid-apology? Even Haneul, who'd said it, looked shocked, eyes bulging.
...What the heck? Did she just instinctively blurt that out seeing me apologize?
Her VTuber voice matched her current one, sure, but how'd she figure it out? A longtime fan? From five years ago? One of the 500 Million Button cultists? A SeiraFansThief? Was she about to get exposed as a reincarnate?!
Shit, what did I even do back in my VTuber days...?
Sera's mind tangled into knots.
Haneul was just as baffled. She knew what o-fan-mu meant. But today's Haneul wasn't curious about Seira's panty color. Why would she suddenly wonder about some pretty girl's underwear?
Tomorrow's me might be, though?
Anyway, current Haneul wasn't. Yet her damn mouth spat it out anyway.
"Am I getting arrested for sexual harassment?"
Baek Seungcheol, who'd stiffened up tensely, cautiously spoke up.
"O-fan-mu? What the hell does that even mean to get you two reacting like this?"
"Short for 'what color panties today.' So, boss—think this is lawsuit material?"
"...The person's right here. Ask her yourself."
"Seratang, you wouldn't... huh? Who's Seratang?"
Sera blinked in bewilderment at Haneul's out-of-left-field question. Adapting to this unpredictable thought process and stream-of-consciousness blurts was tough. And that "Seratang"—it sounded just like "Seiradang," the fan nickname from her VTuber days. A chill crawled up her spine...
"It's like... a cutesy way to say my name, Yoo Sera? But it's kinda embarrassing to hear, so how about just Sera-unnie?"
"Yeah, Seratang. Wait, Seratang. Huh? Why's it sticking to my tongue? Fine, Seratang it is. Seratang, you gonna sue me for sexual harassment?"
"...N-no."
"Thanks!"
Baek Seungcheol sighed at their dizzying exchange. Relief filled his exhale.
I thought it was some secret code...
Sera was a hunter whose name popped up everywhere: Association chatter, guilds, public opinion. Hell, even Constellations might've gossiped about her.
"I'll close the gate. No matter what it takes."
Sera's bold statement during an early gate crisis TV interview. It didn't raise eyebrows then—tons of hunters vowed the same, and the government scrambled for solutions. But now, with society thriving on mana stones and monster byproducts, closing gates smacked of rebellion.
Gov-backed anti-gate groups went quiet or disbanded. Yet Sera had subtly reaffirmed her stance into recent years. Her overflowing talent stuck at B-rank, unsponsored by Constellations? Probably why.
So Baek Seungcheol had mistaken Haneul's "o-fan-mu" for code from some secret anti-gate cabal Sera belonged to. Overkill to outsiders, maybe, but he bought it. In a world packed with crazies gaining power, anything could happen. As branch chief mediating the chaos, he suspected everything—especially unheard slang blurted by Haneul. Sounded like some wild op kicking off...
If it really was...
A genius like Haneul—who'd hit Master someday—joining gate-closers? The world would plunge into nightmare chaos.
"Anyway, thanks for explaining, Haneul."
"Yeah. Now samgyeopsal time?"
Baek Seungcheol's face twisted in conflicted nuance. Nodding ended the topic. But doubts lingered.
Constellation killing a hunter? Hard to swallow. If true, they'd have scrubbed the divine angle, pinned it as Kim Seung-hyeok's massacre, and published accordingly.
The Lion-Masked War God says the girl's words are true.
Without his Constellation's vouch, he'd have done just that. Why were gods suddenly tangled here? Haneul had no sponsor—were they fighting over her?
The Lion-Masked War God pats his apostle's shoulder, saying ignorance is no sin.
Baek Seungcheol dropped the case. Pushing against his Constellation's word felt rude. Blind obedience was unwise, but his felt human—unlike the twisted maniac gods out there.
Still need a separate investigation...
Autopsies on the bodies would suffice. He slowly opened his eyes and nodded.
"Yeah, let's grill some samgyeopsal."
"Yay!"
"Kim Seung-hyeok, you haven't eaten yet, right?"
"...No, sir."
"Yoo Sera?"
"I'm on a diet, haha..."
"Right, dieting Yoo Sera heads home. Association staff, dismissed. I'll grill here a bit before leaving."
A sigh escaped Kim Seung-hyeok. Dining with the clearly wary branch chief?
Sera and staff go home—why me...?
This was his safehouse, though. No dodging like Sera's lame diet excuse. Male hunters dieting? Please.
"Do doenjang jjigae too!"
"My shop was a doenjang stew spot."
"Whoa!"
Haneul beamed innocently.
*****
After devouring branch chief-grilled samgyeopsal and sneaking a beer from Kim Seung-hyeok, Haneul—whose button money was now legit via Association taxes—crashed hard at his place. She woke and headed straight for the gate.
Baek Seungcheol had begged her not to enter. Fat chance. She'd vowed yesterday to try closing one. Haneul hated delays—itchy like that. Today: seal attempt. If impossible, reaching the end would satisfy. She had to see the finale. Curiosity demanded instant action.
That trumped nagging brainworms like o-fan-mu and Seratang. Gate secrets first.
Whatever they meant, lingering or not. That nameless VTuber? Haneul harbored deep affection, so no searching till she recalled. Stubborn pointless pride, basically.
"Still a sight."
Haneul gazed up at the towering barrier before her. Gate breaks demanded 500m perimeters of thick walls. Licenses to cross, card-tap machines for entry.
Clueless yesterday, sharp today.
"License check."
"Here."
"D-rank hunter Yoo Haneul. Verified. Happy hunting."
"Daily improving me—too cool."
"...Pardon?"
"Cool, right?"
"Cool... indeed."
Flashing a slick grin, Haneul stood gate-front, rubbing hands.
"Alright."
What lay at the gate's end? Apostle contracts—how? Why no god chats? Past sins? Unmet human-born deities? They'd ignore her history, right? Prideful types.
Human-born Constellations... yeah, Constellations.
Target: lure human-origin ones. No reckless yesterdays. Infiltrate or assassinate... Infiltrate out, so self-assassin it was.
"Sneak sneak...!"
Assassin: Haneul herself. Veiled presence maxed, she tapped her license at the Association machine.
Staff eyed her like a lunatic. Haneul ignored, stealth-slipping into the gate.
One step, two, three. Four: navel-pull, lush jungle sprawled.
The Onmyoji Ruling Night's Borders eyes you warily.
The Omnipotent Designer Who Stole Heaven's Secrets gazes at you with interest.
The Terror of Fog-Shrouded London licks its lips at the sight of you.
The Countess Filling Her Bathtub with Fresh Blood stares at your nape.
The Great Thief Fried in a Cauldron eyes your pockets greedily.
The One Who Toppled Parliament—
"Ooh."
Haneul smacked her lips, scanning the swarm of Constellation messages floating before her eyes.