Two Hundred Out of a Hundred
AARC's data was treated as critically important inside the U.S. military, because it could put a precise number on an Awakened's ability to carry out an operation—a world apart from the other institutes still fussing over nothing but mana capacity.
That alone dropped the operational failure rate to nothing.
They had also drawn out reasonably trustworthy figures for an Awakened's capacity to grow—their potential. The prime example was Alex Rodriguez. They had picked out, well in advance, the undisputed strongest asset in the United States. It was no whim that made the American government willing to pour astronomical sums into monopolizing their research.
And now there's someone with an unmeasurable ceiling and potential?
The first to lay eyes on that information was Colonel Curtis, commander of the U.S. Army Awakened Special Operations Command and a true believer in the AARC. Even so, Shin Haneul's detailed data was shocking enough that he could hardly bring himself to accept it.
If this is real, it means America's strongest Awakened could all rush him at once and still lose.
The moment he saw it, the two thoughts crashed together in his head. If a zealot like him was wavering, everyone else would believe it even less. Only after watching the virtual-training footage did he barely manage to think, I suppose I ought to try believing it.
Which was why bringing Shin Haneul in was, politically, an extremely dangerous move. Under ordinary circumstances he would never have acted this way.
But these aren't ordinary circumstances. Sit still like this, and I'll be out of the uniform anyway.
Some twenty Awakened had died in a medium dungeon, and on top of that an incident had broken out in the downtown dungeon as well. The blame was unmistakably his. His military career was on the verge of being cut short. With nothing left to lose, he went straight to Shin Haneul.
In one corner of his mind, he was also thinking this: There's no way he'll turn my offer down.
An Awakened whose mana-stone supply had been cut off refusing mana stones was, for anyone in their right mind, a difficult thing to do. If he did refuse, there was only one explanation—fear. Die, and mana stones or anything else ceased to matter, so he would say that even if you handed them over, he still couldn't go.
This man was a little different. The moment he turned the mana stones down, he asked to be taken to the dungeon. The compensation, he said, could be settled later, however it worked out.
What is this guy?
Curtis had no idea how to read it. But that wasn't what mattered now.
"In any case—may I take this to mean you'll do it?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go. We'll take you by car."
"Yes...? Right now?"
"Every second counts! A team has already gone into the Seattle dungeon, and they're isolated as we speak...!"
And it was no ordinary team. Oliver's unit had gone in—the very team led by the man they called the treasure of Northern Command. Mutated dungeon or not, they had lightly assumed it would be no problem for them. Then they were trapped in the middle of it.
They're the last elite unit our command has left. If they're wiped out...
It truly was a matter of seconds, and Curtis being beside himself was only natural. Shin Haneul, however, was unhurried. He didn't know the circumstances, and even if he had, it wouldn't have been his problem.
"Mm... give me a moment."
"Understood. I'll wait here."
"No. It might take a while, so somewhere more comfortable..."
"I'm fine."
"Well, I'm not."
"...We'll wait in the car."
Shin Haneul told them to suit themselves and shut the door. Some time later, he came walking out at an easy pace.
"You're in luck. Minwoo fell asleep early today."
"Yes..."
"He might wake up and come looking for me, so... let's go quickly."
His face was as relaxed as a man announcing he was off for a stroll around the neighborhood. He was the same even inside the dungeon.
Vroooom—! The engine of a military vehicle tore through the dawn air. They reached the operation zone, and Colonel Curtis opened a tablet.
"The dungeon's interior is estimated at three floors. The 3rd Special Task Unit is currently isolated at the approach to the second floor. Monster composition is primarily orc-type, and—"
Shin Haneul listened to this part with genuine attention—not because of the monster composition. The larger a dungeon, the more tangled its layout, and the first stretch was inevitably spent on exploration. Hearing about that much could only help. Everything after it could not.
"...and as for the members of the rescue team entering with you—"
"Ah. No need for that."
A flat, absolute refusal. Curtis's brow drew tight.
"Mr. Shin Haneul. You mustn't think of this place as being on the level of the old large-scale dungeons. No matter how high the AARC data came back, going in alone..."
"Colonel."
Shin Haneul lifted his head. There was no particular feeling in his eyes.
"I'm more comfortable alone."
"Even so, from the third chamber on the space opens up, and there are monsters with long reach..."
Colonel Curtis wanted a contingency. The conversation refused to become one.
"If you can't bring yourself to trust me, I'll simply sit this out."
"......"
"..."
A short silence.
Bang!
A man built entirely of muscle—Captain Coleman of Northern Command—shot to his feet.
"So we're in the way. That's what you're saying."
His rank was captain, but he was one of the foremost fighters in Northern Command, and his pride in that skill was enormous. He was already of the opinion that if he himself had gone in with them, none of this would have happened. And yet here he was, being brushed aside. The look he leveled could have killed a man. Curtis moved quickly to smooth it over.
"Understood. We'll adjust: once Mr. Shin secures the route, we follow in behind."
Coleman was glad to hear it. This dungeon was on an entirely different level from the ones before. Trailing along at a comfortable distance and watching that arrogant Asian bastard scream to be saved didn't sound half bad.
"Can I go in now?"
Shin Haneul looked as though it made no difference to him either way. Step by step, he walked toward the dungeon. Watching him go, Coleman thought, A decent AARC readout and suddenly he can't see what's in front of him. Numbers are numbers. A real fight is a real fight.
The entrance breathed an ill omen ten times thicker than usual—a smell of musty earth tangled with ozone, and that peculiar sensation of space twisting open. Shin Haneul strolled in as if it were nothing. Coleman's colleagues, following behind, muttered as well.
"Cocky doesn't begin to cover it."
"He's never even been in a mutated dungeon before, has he?"
They did not need a full minute to fall silent. The first orc appeared before they had taken ten steps from the entrance: a bulk more than three meters tall, a rusted iron mace rising overhead, the roar just about to leave its throat.
Whish—!
The sword moved, and the orc's body came apart in several pieces. It was easy to mistake the order of things—as if the sound of the collapse came first, and Shin Haneul moved only afterward.
"...What did he just do?"
"No idea."
"The orcs... they can't even revive. He cut them too fine. Way too fine."
"So that's one way to stop a revival."
"Couldn't copy that if I tried."
They conceded his skill on the spot. Curtis did. Even Coleman did. This was no longer a matter of pride or common sense. Anyone with eyes could see the man was in a different league entirely.
Even before the mutated dungeons... I couldn't have done it like that.
From the small and medium dungeons upward, hunting alone was taboo. This man fought a pack of orcs by himself, and it wasn't even a brawl. If it needed a name, it was a massacre. Or a hunt. Yes—he was closer to a hunter than to an Awakened.
Coleman spoke to Curtis, and awe had already settled thick in his voice.
"Colonel. That man... the deeper he goes, the stronger he seems to be getting."
Curtis nodded. He had thought the tremendous skill was on display from the very start. It wasn't. That had been a warm-up. The deeper the dungeon, the greater the resistance, the more Shin Haneul answered with a stronger hand. Take the two high orcs that appeared as bosses.
Even before the dungeon mutated, they were troublesome monsters that called for an elite team. Now? The higher-ups had been prepared to abandon the clear altogether. Then both of them lunged at Shin Haneul at once.
Thud— Thwack!!
He moved faster than before and put both of them down. That was the end of it. From pulling the isolated troops out to killing the boss monsters, everything they had been helplessly fretting over was finished.
Watching it, a single line from the AARC report cut through Curtis's mind.
He had taken it for exaggeration. AARC's instruments were the best in the world; he had believed no Awakened existed whom those devices could not contain. In this moment, he understood the sentence had, if anything, been an understatement. Curtis spoke quietly to his aide.
"Contact the Commander."
"Sir? In the middle of a dungeon clear, what do you—"
"Are you the one clearing it?"
"Well, no, sir, but what am I supposed to tell him this is about, all of a sudden?"
What it was about did not need asking.
"That man. He isn't at a level I can handle. Which is probably why he didn't so much as name his terms to me."
"Then... the Supreme Commander would be able to handle him, wouldn't he?"
"That, I wouldn't know."
Curtis had merely tossed the matter as high as his own hand could reach. Whatever came next was for the Commander to judge.
After the downtown dungeon was cleared, far too many people came and went from Shin Haneul's house. Some commander. A mayor. The governor. And so on. Every one of them arrived ready to promise anything, so long as he would deal with the mutated dungeons.
"If you wish, we will apply pressure to the nation of Korea on your behalf."
It was only natural. Mutated dungeons kept appearing across America, and if things went on like this, every one of them would end in a dungeon burst. The social upheaval would be enormous. If the alternative was the homeland being smashed, the fig leaf of an allied nation could be discarded whenever they pleased.
That was not what Shin Haneul wanted. There was no reason at all to put America at his back and invite the backlash. Rumors were already circulating among Korean netizens that clearing this mutated dungeon might have been his doing—the information network of Seattle's Korean community.
A remarkable information network, truly. Shin Haneul's family had never breathed a word of it to any of them, and still they had managed to learn this much. This time, the U.S. government made a different offer.
"Then shall we shut this kind of gossip down completely? Mr. Shin, we can make it so no one knows you exist."
"No. There's no need to go that far."
Since coming to America, Shin Haneul had not bothered to assert his innocence all over again. He hadn't even put up the fact that a place like the AARC had certified his ability, nor the data itself—and this despite knowing full well that if any of it were made public, it could turn Korean opinion, currently tearing into him and savoring every bite, a fair way around.
Why?
Because it'd be a hassle if people started showing up from all over.
Mutated dungeons were appearing. Flash an overwhelming level of skill, and he could see perfectly well that pleas for help would come pouring in from every direction, so for a while he had simply endured. Not anymore. These days the U.S. government kept the area around his house under iron guard, and most outsiders were stopped before they ever reached the doorbell. Which was why Shin Haneul could say it.
"Why should I have to live hiding who I am? I haven't committed any crime."