Fight on Your Own Terms
Barely any time had passed before the Namhae branch staff began to stir awake, and Seoa and I decided to head back for now.
At first, we'd kept watch, wary that the monsters behind the strange phenomenon inside the branch might attack—but the response was pretty underwhelming. Not that I expected much. According to my instincts, there wasn't a single monster lying in ambush anywhere near the branch at that moment.
Thanks to that, I was able to hand the follow-up to the first hunters who woke up inside the branch and rejoin the student group ahead of schedule.
Naturally, our little ones were quite shocked when they heard the story. Even so, we'd gotten a handle on this commission while the rooms were still booked, so all in all, things were moving along.
The children's eyes brimmed with admiration at the sight of active-duty hunters at work. Seoa, one of the very people in question, didn't seem to share that sentiment, though—she kept shooting me glances every now and then.
Be that as it may, at least we knew what we had to do next.
First, we'd split into three teams. Fortunately, nobody objected to my proposal. None of them were in any mood to slack off, either—it seemed the fact that an entire branch had been seized had driven home just how serious this was.
So. Personnel distribution first. There were plenty of tasks that needed hands right away. We had to interview the hunters who'd woken up, and launch a proper investigation to boot. In that sense, the number three was the product of some genuine deliberation on my part.
Interviewing the Namhae branch. Canvassing the locals. Tracking the monster.
Those were the tasks on our plate, and nothing more. From there, I split Seoa and Tiamat off from the rest first. The enemy, after all, was a monster capable of paralyzing an entire branch—I couldn't exactly send the students in alone.
So, who goes where?
The Association liaison was Seoa, obviously.
"Aaagh!!"
She let out a scream like I'd handed her a migraine, but there was nothing to be done about it. She was the one who'd officially taken this commission, after all. Even if Tiamat and I visited the branch ourselves, I doubted we'd be welcomed anywhere near as warmly as the person actually on the case. Especially now, with the whole branch in an uproar—this was the moment she needed the title of official contractor.
I'd attach Jihee and Hayeon to her as well. The reason, in short, was charm.
Jihee, the nightmare hybrid. Hayeon, with her curse abilities. My judgment was that those two would have at least some resistance to a monster's allure.
Next, Tiamat's side—canvassing the locals, paired with Yoonha.
"Leave it to me, and rest assured!"
The goddess bellowed with hearty bravado. Maybe she'd raised her mana, because compared to a moment ago, a considerable creepiness now radiated off her.
Well. Whatever. My one and only criterion for picking members this time was a single word: approachability.
Namhae was a coastal town, after all. Globalization may have arrived, but the stubborn clannishness and wariness of outsiders unique to seaside communities hadn't changed one bit. To canvass the locals, we needed someone sociable enough to worm our way into that closed circle—plus knowledge of monsters on top of it. At the very least, whoever went had to be able to consolidate the locals' testimony and pin down what exactly was suspicious about it.
That was precisely why Yoonha got picked. In sheer liveliness, Jihee wouldn't lose to anyone, and Hayeon's monster knowledge wasn't bad either.
However.
Jihee, because of her hybrid nature, tended to keep a certain distance from ordinary people. Hayeon had never actually butchered a monster herself. Between those two, Yoonha was still the optimal choice.
Which left?
Me and Yeeun. The two of us were the tracking team.
Yes. An excellent arrangement, if I did say so myself.
Even I could admit the split was a bit blatant, but there were circumstances beyond my control. Simply put, for civilian fieldwork, sending pretty girls is far more effective. No, seriously—it's not sexism, it's fact. And at the seaside, doubly so. The folks who sail out and start waxing poetic about mirages are men pretty much without exception. There's the matter of labor intensity, too, but above all it comes down to the peculiar superstitions of coastal folk: the sea, so the saying goes, is like a jealous woman. Carry a woman aboard, and the waves will rise in a fit of envy—or so they claim.
Maybe because lives were literally on the line, superstition held eerie sway in towns like this. The request itself had almost certainly come, eight times out of ten, from the men who actually set foot on the boats. People especially sensitive to old superstitions.
I've rambled long enough, but the point is simple. The locals at the center of this request were overwhelmingly working seamen. In other words: women are bad luck.
A pathetic reason, truly—but that's reality for you~ Honestly, even setting myself aside, think about it: one suspicious man of unknown origin, versus a reasonably pretty high school girl? It's the latter. No contest.
There was another reason I'd handed the Association to Seoa, too: I hate paperwork.
'If I'd wanted to do that kind of work, I never would've come out here in the first place~'
Namhae, for crying out loud. Enough already—just hand over the monster, is what I say.
And so, Yeeun and I were assigned as the tracking unit. Our objective, of course, was detecting traces of the monster. That said, I had nothing concrete to go on at the moment—my instincts told me there hadn't been a single monster lying in wait near the branch.
And yet. Even so, the distinct stench unique to monsters hung thick over the Namhae branch. Which meant one thing was all but confirmed: there was a monster somewhere in this area.
In other words, we were a kind of reconnaissance squad. A team pulled out in advance to flush out the monster's nest. To put it bluntly, the enemy was a monster either way. The other teams could finish their investigations and come running later—but there's no harm in killing it early.
'That was the plan, anyway...'
As luck would have it, things didn't turn out that way. Because from the moment the teams split up, Yeeun had been wearing a long face.
Granted, on the surface she looked no different from usual. The same unreadable expression as when I'd thought to myself, there's no way I could send Yeeun to canvass the locals.
But.
Lately, I've gotten rather skilled at reading girls' moods, and I could tell. Yeeun was in a bad mood right now...!
"Yeeun. Is something the matter?"
'If this were one of those days, she'd probably tell me—'
I nearly said it, and barely managed to stop myself. My experience had rung the alarm bell.
Heh, oh ho. Experience and instinct combined—the ultra-supreme Park Woochan. I feel invincible.
"No, it's nothing really."
"Aw, don't be like that."
"It's a personal matter, so please don't worry about it."
But for all her looks, Lee Yeeun carried a startlingly fierce spirit. I knew that already, yet the way she cut the matter off so decisively as her own business almost made me flinch.
Except.
"Teacher."
"Hmm?"
"Am I, perhaps, the least useful of all?"
This girl was not the type to coyly hide her feelings behind small talk. She wore a poker face, sure, but scratch the surface once and she was surprisingly easy to read—a girl of raw passion. Just as I'd judged before, Lee Yeeun suddenly laid it all out.
'Oh no.'
'This is when you're supposed to be a little gentler about it!'
The thought slipped out before I could stop it.
"Why all of a sudden?"
"Because of what just happened."
"Hm? Just now?"
"Yes. You brought me along last, didn't you?"
"Well, yes."
"I couldn't help thinking... maybe you only brought me because there was nothing else I could do."
It wasn't wrong, exactly—I'd been about to say as much before swallowing it back. A sour taste settled in my chest.
No, wait. Did this girl actually believe she had the personality for canvassing strangers?
Same went for visiting the Association branch. The others had grown somewhat used to it, but Lee Yeeun was the sister of none other than that Lee Joongoo. Sending her to the Namhae branch? That was practically a visit from the presidential family.
It was true I'd been an unlicensed hunter once, but even so, I had no desire to torment innocent Association staff.
Yet here she was, seriously agonizing over it.
It wasn't as if I couldn't understand. Just look at everything she'd been through lately. Lee Yeeun had once been the standout prodigy of the entire region, all the way through middle school. But as I've said before, my educational philosophy is about raising everyone's abilities. In other words, the ones who lag behind get driven until they can do it; the ones who excel shore up their foundations in other areas.
I'm confident my approach pays off in the long run. But from where she stood, it must have felt like her scores had been getting caught, one by one, ever since she entered the Academy. Her doubts about her own skill surely sprang from that same place.
Still.
"Yeeun."
"I'm sorry. I said something unnecessary."
"No—I'm not scolding you, so just hear me out."
"...Understood."
Every person has things they can do, and things they cannot. Yeeun's calm gaze met mine. Eyes of clear, cool light, like an autumn sky. Not a flicker of wavering in them. Even as she lamented her own shortcomings, she was endlessly quiet—apart from her downcast tone, perfectly composed.
In fact, the only time Yeeun had ever bared her emotions that fiercely was once—and only once, in a matter involving Lee Joongoo. Partly, I suppose, because anything beyond that would make my words too obvious to bear.
Every person has strengths and weaknesses! Just because you can do something doesn't mean you can assume everyone else can! And by the same token, the things you can't do—you simply leave to others!
That kind of talk. I didn't just say it, either—in a sense, it amounted to flatly declaring that right now, she really was of no help. But that wasn't what I wanted to tell her this time.
This was something more practical. Something useful for hunting, in other words. Not a sermon about grit—a matter of biology.
"I'm sorry?"
"You've heard it before, haven't you? That humans, weaker than other animals, instead gained wisdom."
At my words, Yeeun slowly nodded.
It's true—compared to other creatures of similar build, humanity is absurdly weak. And yet. Wisdom. Unmatched endurance for long-distance travel. A body built for throwing.
Combining those traits just right, humanity rose to its place atop all creation. With wisdom, we made tools. With superb endurance, we tracked prey until it collapsed from exhaustion. And then—with bodies specialized for throwing, wielding spears and the like—mankind became, quite literally, the strongest creature on Earth.
This was no different.
"People differ in what they can do, too."
"...Like how I can't be as approachable as Yoonha or Jihee?"
"And how, unlike you, Yoonha and Jihee can't calmly assess a situation."
I hadn't said it just to stroke her spirits. Yeeun genuinely had that quality about her. Maybe because she was Lee Joongoo's sister. Or maybe something she'd taught herself.
An unshakable composure. Yeeun possessed what you'd call the bearing of a strong one. Of course, for now it was still as faint as her actual skill. But—
Being able to keep your own anxiety hidden is, unexpectedly, a powerful weapon. Cool eyes in the face of any crisis. A quiet, steady gaze that seemed to say she hadn't yet shown everything she could do. That alone puts others at ease—the bearing of a strong one.
When assaulting a gate. Even in a desperate situation where the front line had to hold against countless monsters—
'With this person here, we'll be fine. With this person here, I can breathe.'
The aura of an ace, so to speak. I'd stake my life on it: even setting aside her being Lee Joongoo's sister, the first of our school's students to become a star hunter would be Lee Yeeun.
Granted, looks play a role. But a face alone doesn't make a star hunter. It's not as though the others are homely by comparison, either. I couldn't say this out loud, of course—the little ones would go berserk if they heard.
And so: people fight on the battlefield where they hold the advantage. It's the same as hunting. Like a hunter who spends days preparing to take down a monster, you don't necessarily need to be stronger than your opponent to seize victory. Sure, it'd be convenient if you were. But what I mean is—you can surpass them without being stronger.
Like a hunter choosing his ground, you choose, and choose again, what you'll fight with. You hone the tools you've selected, and lure your opponent onto your own stage. Once you've done that, you can win.
Total focus on a single point. One part of you. One single advantage over your opponent is enough—because you settle the fight with that specialty alone.
To put it plainly: could anyone honestly claim the other girls are hopelessly behind Yeeun? No, they couldn't. Ryu Jihee could weaponize her signature cheerfulness and the mystery hidden beneath it. Hwang Yoonha could close the distance with her unpolished manner instead. And vice versa.
It's certainly true that Yeeun is less sociable than the others—but polishing that is entirely Yeeun's own task. This industry is exactly the kind of place where an attitude that would just earn cries of rude if left alone can, with enough refinement, be repackaged as regal.
You just cooperate nicely with everyone. Complement each other.
Not that I had any intention of giving that feel-good speech. It's not that there's anything wrong with it, but—
'I was a solo hunter, see.'
Coming from me, it'd be nothing but empty words anyway.
So the only thing I could teach her was the craft of hunting. Techniques to leap past an opponent in a single moment. Someone stronger than you. Someone superior to you. Or someone your equal—where exactly is the obligation to fight them fair and square?
Look at what we're doing right now, for that matter. If we'd intended a fair fight, we'd never have bothered countering the monster's charm magic in the first place. And the monster, likewise, would never have dreamed of facing our counter-magic head-on. We're doing all this precisely because neither side has any intention of fighting on the stage the other imagined.
The same went for Yeeun. A title that was nothing but a liability at this point in time would, someday, become a weapon. A versatile one, usable in the vast majority of situations, at that. Hone it, and take the field. Just as coldness can transform into aloof elegance.
"And anyway—I didn't pick you just because I had hands to spare."
"Is... is that so?"
"Yeah. I picked you because, at the very least, I didn't think you'd need protecting."
At my words, Yeeun's eyes flew wide open.
With Tiamat or Ryu Jihee, it would have been hard to show their full strength under the eyes Namhae branch currently had trained on it. With Yoonha or Hayeon, there'd be no need to protect me or weaken the enemy right now, so it was hard to call that a good pairing. Here, more than anywhere, what was needed was combat capability—someone whose own skill was top-tier and who had the capacity to look after herself.
In short, I simply judged Lee Yeeun the optimal choice.
"Need protecting...?"
"Yeah. This is a secret, but honestly, I'm bad at fighting while protecting other people. Actually, I've never once pulled it off properly."
No, well—obviously, since I was a solo hunter. Where on earth would I have learned defensive tactics in the first place? I never needed to learn them. If anything, my recent schedule's gone completely off the rails. And even then, I haven't properly protected a single person once.
During Yeeun's training incident, all I did was throw a coat over her. I couldn't even stop Hayeon and Yoonha from being kidnapped.
But.
'Huh?'
Yeeun herself was wearing a shocked expression.
'Uh, what? That's hardly anything to be that surprised about...'
Harboring somewhat complicated feelings, I quickened my pace all the more. One of the sites I'd confirmed in advance through the reports, before coming down to Namhae, had appeared right before us before I knew it.