The Butcher's Devoted Fan
On the subject of a hunter named Do Joojin.
As I've said more than once, I don't actually know all that much about this young hunter. Take the facts the public already knows, add whatever Seoa's been chattering about over the past day or two, and that's pretty much the whole of it.
According to the stories passed along from mouth to mouth, Do Joojin had been a rising star in this industry since childhood. His chief motivation: monsters had murdered his parents. A bit of a stereotype, I'll grant you.
Anyway. Perhaps because he'd set his sights on the hunter's path so early? By the time Seoa had only just become a hunter, Do Joojin had already made a name for himself at B-Rank. A gap so vast you'd never guess they were the same generation. Of course, now that Seoa has come into her own, she's chased him down to nearly within arm's reach...
'Rank is one thing. Skill is another.'
On paper, they're both A+. In practice, they are not the same. Measured against the Second Great Cataclysm, Seoa was roughly A-Rank. She'd need to pile up a few more experiences like the Namhae Branch incident before her ability caught up to the rank on her license. Do Joojin, by contrast, was the real deal. Even by Cataclysm standards, I'd wager A+ came easy to him. 'S-Rank, maybe not.' The Gangwon Branch, indeed. I'd have to tell Seoa to pay them a visit sometime when she got the chance.
Ah — I've drifted a bit off topic. The point is this: Do Joojin was a genuinely skilled hunter, a rare breed in this day and age.
"Ah, if I'm to explain how I came to know Senior Park Woochan, I'm afraid I simply must begin with the Hollywood assault campaign in Los Angeles..."
R-Right. And so. That very hunter, Do Joojin — a rare talent of our era, hailed as the vanguard of the next generation — was at this very moment heaping every flavor of flattery at my feet. To be fair, in his own mind it might well have been sincere.
According to his own account, the man had apparently tasted every hardship life could serve up from childhood on. Well, hunter or not, back then he was still just a kid who'd lost his parents. A person's got to do what it takes to survive. He never said so outright, but I imagine he dabbled in less-than-legal work too. The world wasn't gentle enough for a child with no guardian to make it any other way.
Somewhere in all that, Do Joojin caught wind of a rumor about a certain hunter. The Butcher. No point hiding it — that was me.
They said: an avenger who lost his beloved to monsters long ago. They said: a hunter who straddled the line between legal and illegal to stalk his prey. They said: a man who lived only to kill monsters, without a single compromise.
'Is this for real?' Even hearing it firsthand, my face burned. And yet. To a boy who had to scrape together his next meal day after day, that name had quietly become a goal — a role model. The vengeance smoldering toward the monsters who took his parents. The reality, in stark contrast, where he couldn't so much as lunge at a monster for worrying about tomorrow's bread. For a boy worn down by such thoughts — what should I do, how, could I even manage it — the name "Butcher" became a kind of compass. A sheath to hold the rage he carried toward monsters.
And so the boy became a young man. A celebrity, at that — the kind whose name anyone would recognize today. And yet even so, chasing down the Butcher, who had vanished without warning one day, proved impossible. Then one day, as he nursed a certain disappointment over that fact, the young man came across an article. It concerned Seoa's recent transfer to the Academy.
Ugh. What a bitter little mistake. Come to think of it, back when Seoa first reported for work, she did wave my name around and carry on about being my disciple, didn't she? Apparently that little exchange found its way to the press. Well, for someone as famous as Seoa, that's simply an inescapable fate. The Association must have lunged for a catch like that with ears turned hands. Though Seoa herself, the person concerned, was probably just gnashing her teeth over the whole thing. No — if anything, most people wouldn't have cheered like the young man in front of me. They'd have shot back, "So who the hell is Park Woochan?"
Anyway.
"Master, don't fall for it. This guy's full of shit, anyone can see it. Does that even make sense? What part of you could he possibly respect?!"
"Seoa, shut your mouth!! What blasphemy is this, in front of a devoted fan of your heaven-sent Master?!"
"Master?!"
I smacked the shoulders of Seoa — still busy denying reality — and scolded her; she scrambled out of reach. Violent suppression complete, I wrestled my twitching lips under control with every ounce of strength I had and asked:
"Hmm. So? You're telling me you respect me, is that it?"
"Yes! That's right!"
"Hahaha. Well, now, this is embarrassing. Never once did I think I'd hear that from a hunter as fine as yourself."
"What are you saying? Strangers might not know better, but among hunters who do, your name carries exactly that much weight!"
"Ho? Oh ho."
"There are even those who say you may well be the strongest hunter in all of Korea."
"Heh heh. Heh heh heh."
But honestly? This was harder than I'd expected. Nothing else was the problem — the trouble was keeping a straight face.
Watching me, Seoa muttered quietly, as if it were somebody else's business: "This man is pathetic... Especially the way he can't even recognize his own patheticness, that's what makes it even more— Aagh!!"
Thwack!!
Under the table, I wrenched Seoa's joints once again. With the sound of a man dying, she quietly sank from view. Beneath the table, I wore a contented smile.
...No, fine. At this point, I might as well admit it. Frankly? It felt fucking incredible.
'The hell, is that not allowed?! He's the first fan I've ever met in my life!'
'I'm not saying you can't. Only that you ought to be a little more careful.'
'Shut up!! He's my fan. He's obviously a good guy!!'
"This one no longer understands your standards, child."
Tiamat sighed it as if in passing. Of course, I couldn't have cared less. Why? Because I felt great.
Look, I never thought of myself as the type blinded by vanity, but~ Apparently I'm not entirely immune to it either. Humans are social animals, after all. In other words: praise from another person's mouth felt far better than I'd ever imagined.
"M-More! Praise me more!!"
"S-So easy... this guy is ridiculously easy...!!"
"If anything, hasn't it been easy all along? Seoa, you mustn't slander such a fine person like this."
"Hold on, Master. You're taking the side of a punk you met less than an hour ago over your adorable disciple?!"
"And you put your own prejudice above the reputation of your heaven-sent Master?!"
"That's fine when it's me!!"
Can you believe this little shit?
Do Joojin watched us scuffle with a warm smile. To be more precise, he was watching Seoa.
"But still, Hunter Shin Seoa."
"Now what?"
"So you were Hunter Park Woochan's disciple? You might have given me a hint. Knowing how much I respect the man."
"No, I didn't know? The hell — how was I supposed to know this guy's nickname? Nobody ever told me."
"Now, now, Seoa."
"I mean, even I would hate to admit it. 'The Butcher'? What is that even supposed to be?"
"What's wrong with 'The Butcher'? It's nothing but cool."
"Is this naming sense for real?"
Watching Seoa whine like a child, a sigh escaped me before I knew it. Good grief. Compared to the remarkably mature Hunter Do Joojin, our disciple was still a child — a child, I say.
"Master's reaction is seriously pissing me the hell off."
"That said, being able to meet you like this is a true honor, and a relief besides. Honestly, I thought I would never lay eyes on you in this lifetime."
"Huh?"
However. Even I couldn't help hanging a question mark on that remark.
"Uh, why?"
"Because I heard you retired."
"Well, I did retire. For a bit."
"I understand. For people like us, retirement is nothing but a poison that gnaws away at the heart."
"Uh, um..."
What is that supposed to be. No, I mean, the phrasing is cool at least. Yeah. 'A poison that gnaws away at the heart.'
Forcibly swallowing my vague sense of unease, I listened on. Fortunately, Do Joojin didn't press me on my reaction. To be more precise, he seemed too intoxicated by his own words to even notice.
"The age of peace had finally arrived. The very day the Second Great Cataclysm ended, the everyday life we had long forgotten returned to us as well."
"Mm. Mmm."
"But what we had lost within it could never be found again."
"Right, that's how it goes?"
"Yes. Even though we struck down those who stole our everyday lives, what was lost never came back."
"Not wrong, no. Mm."
"If anything, what we lost was the answer — how to quell this seething heart."
"Uh, well, it's not wrong."
It wasn't, but... It occurred to me, all of a sudden, that there was probably a considerable gap between the me in this guy's imagination and the actual me.
"That is why I volunteered for the Gangwon Branch."
"Admirable attitude."
"Thank you. But there is no need to force the compliments."
"Huh?"
"I know it myself, you see. That my being here is nothing more than simple escapism."
"Uh, um..."
"Yes. In the end, I could not forget the air of the battlefield. Even now, my hatred for monsters has not subsided."
"Well, that's a real shame..."
"For the Gangwon Branch as well, you see. I did not come here to protect people."
This was getting damn heavy. If we're talking realism, sure.
Hunters who suddenly regained their everyday lives after the end of the Second Great Cataclysm! But can hunters who were risking their lives until just recently truly adapt to normal life?! Next episode: Hunter PTSD!!
That's the vibe. Of course, glancing around, I found no broadcaster's cameras filming us.
'Damn it all.' I'd expected as much, but he really was this type. The type swallowed whole by his own vengeance. The type so severe with himself that he considered the very act of taking a break a betrayal of everything he'd lost. I've no intention of criticizing, but he was a difficult type to hold a conversation with.
Not that I related. At all. I want to kill monsters because I was simply born that way.
'Whining now about the everyday life you lost, this and that~' Recently, to mark landing my new job, I'd given my family back home a call — thankfully, my parents were still alive and well. Said they were going to try their hand at radish farming, apparently.
"But you were different, Hunter Park Woochan."
"Huh?"
"I heard you never once showed yourself after retiring."
"Well, true?"
It wasn't a lie. Just not for anything like his reasons.
"Look, I was dying to get to the Gangwon Branch too, but the Association's ad campaigns kept getting in my way. And brawling my way through the Gangwon Branch to force the issue? That'd just make me a plain lunatic."
"No doubt you were engaged in some tremendous training."
"Huh?"
"Ah, there is no need to say a word. Turning your back on the mundane world to hunt nothing but monsters — those pastoral days of slaughter could hardly have been light."
"Uh, right. Thanks."
"Haha. My heart races just imagining it. Was it the open plains of the former North Korean territories? Or perhaps..."
"Master, you just holed up in your room, you did— Aagh!!"
Leaving Do Joojin to his flight of fancy, eyes closed in reverie, I suppressed Seoa once more.
"Well, it's not a lie, is it? I mean, lately I've been fighting some secret organization or other while carving up monsters on the side?"
Park Woochan, a man among men, does not lie. Probably.
"Which is why, honestly, I never even imagined I would run into you like this."
"Well yeah, thinking like that, of course you couldn't have!! How could you possibly have imagined I'd be working as an Academy teacher?!"
Then again, even I never saw it coming. A bona fide god, not just a Constellation. Let's just say a lot of things happened.
"I see."
Fortunately, he nodded along without protest. Even if he'd asked, I couldn't have given him a straight answer, so that suited me fine. And as I was thinking that, he sank into silence once more. His furrowed brow, as if he'd plunged into some deep deliberation, was seriously uncomfortable to look at.
'Now what, goddammit.' Being his fan was all well and good, but that strange delusion of his left me unsure what to say. Shattering the man's fantasy outright felt a touch cruel, too. Call it treading on eggshells without meaning to.
Whether he sensed my mood or not, Do Joojin — who had been quietly rationing his words — opened his mouth again.
"Hunter Park Woochan?"
"Hm?"
"This may be somewhat presumptuous of me, but I, Do Joojin, have one request."
"What is it? Out with it."
Listening is free, after all. Honestly, part of me had wondered whether it might've been easier if the Gangwon Branch had been the one making requests. But I couldn't say that now, so I answered graciously.
"It's nothing much. Ah — of course, if it's a bother, feel free to refuse!"
"What on earth is it, that you're fidgeting so?"
"It is nothing other than this: would you grant me a single bout?"
And so. At those words, even I found myself struck speechless.
"Uh— the hell."
"I have long wished to taste the skill of the renowned Butcher, if only once. Please, do consider it!"
With that, Do Joojin bowed his head. And watching him, Tiamat — who until now had observed the whole scene with detached displeasure — leaned toward me and whispered:
"Child."
"Now what the hell do you want."
"In this one's estimation, I believe this man has lost his mind."
I had no rebuttal.