Ha Yoo-jin

Being ignored. The people doing it never meant any harm, of course — it simply happened because they were weak. A quirk of the skill. Nothing to be done about it.

But for the one on the receiving end, it was inevitably hard. Especially when that kind of disregard was a matter of survival.

Ha Yoo-jin was young. He might not need love, but attention was a matter of life and death. And it wasn't as if this child could hunt on his own. A party? Unless I asked Han Ba-da for a favor, finding one would be nearly impossible.

"...I can't give you an answer right now."

I put the decision off for the time being. Joo Ha-yeon, watching from beside me, looked sorry — but she understood my hesitation. She probably figured it was worth agonizing over. The path we walked was no gentle road, and the truth was that dragging an eight-year-old along it would be genuinely hard.

I soothed the downcast child by telling him I needed to discuss it with my party members first. There was no other way. It really was something to think hard about.

Since he was still recovering his composure, we agreed to talk tomorrow. For the rest of the day, Joo Ha-yeon and I spent time with the boy. Leaving him alone would have pricked my conscience, and he felt dangerously close to the edge.

Over the course of that day, I learned that this child really didn't need much looking after. He was sharp, too — and he never once bothered the adults, doing everything he could to stay out of the way, as if that were simply the natural order of things. Knowing why, both Joo Ha-yeon and I felt a pang of sadness.

After checking the rest, there was essentially no one else who met my standards. A few showed high-tier potential here and there, but nothing I'd call exceptional. On top of that, they all already had parties, which made poaching them difficult. I tried recruiting at least one, just to salvage something from the disappointment, but was told they already had a party and it would be hard. It was a shame, but they weren't worth forcing the issue over, so I dropped it cleanly.

A day later, I introduced the boy to the group. Once she heard the full story, Na-yeon immediately voted in favor.

"If it isn't us, he'll have a hard time, right? And if we left him with Ba-da... she's busy. I think it's fine if we just take him in."

True to her kind nature, Na-yeon was a soft touch with children. If I'd said I wouldn't take him, she wouldn't have argued — but the moment I asked for opinions, she jumped to yes.

I nodded. I'd expected as much from the moment I asked. She wasn't the complete pushover she'd once been, but that root hadn't entirely disappeared. Still, she listened to me well enough that it didn't matter.

Hearing the immediate yes, the boy's face took on a hint of hope. But he immediately ran into Nam Eun-ju's opposition.

"...I'll have to vote against it."

"What? Why?"

Na-yeon looked startled. Nam Eun-ju answered simply.

"...The child won't be able to keep up. Our party is... I know I shouldn't say this, but we're incredibly strong."

Incredibly strong. A lot was packed into those words. Especially coming from Nam Eun-ju, who was herself struggling to grow among those formidable companions — it was hard for me to take lightly. She probably wouldn't readily agree to recruiting a new member unless they were already a trainee of a certain caliber.

Of course, what Nam Eun-ju was worried about wouldn't happen. This child would grow at a rate that made his age irrelevant. And seeing the genuinely apologetic look she gave the dejected Ha Yoo-jin, I could tell she wasn't saying this out of a difficult personality. She had her own reasons for speaking up. And she had a point — we were already short on warriors, and adding another backliner would only increase the burden. It was a valid opinion in more ways than one.

Joo Ha-yeon voted in favor. After spending a day with him, she seemed shaken by the fact that Ha Yoo-jin needed a guardian, and that virtually no one besides us could fill that role.

"Honestly, if you'd asked me yesterday, I would have voted no. But... I'm sorry. I don't want to be swayed by personal feelings, but I just can't do it. I think our party can handle one child."

Why wouldn't we be able to handle one extra body? The real issue was the psychological one. Joo Ha-yeon knew that too, but she seemed to think that was a problem the child would have to endure. The words he'd said yesterday, clinging to her and begging to be taken along, had probably shaken her. It was cruel, but the Tower was too harsh a place to worry about things like that.

"And leaving him here might actually be worse. His emotional development? The only people he'd have to look up to are people who fight monsters every day, and there's no school. Plus, anyone below a certain level can't even perceive him. Mentally, I don't think there's much difference between coming with us and staying here."

The real question was whether we took on the responsibility or ducked it. Honestly, no one would blame us for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ducking it. It was simply unavoidable. If you had to pin the blame on someone, it would be the Giants who invaded Earth, or the Tower that randomly pulled in anyone with a certain level of talent, regardless of their actual will. Though that "talent" was really just a minimum aptitude for mana, and plenty of people who got pulled in had actual talent scraping the bottom.

And last, Na Seoyun spoke.

"Let's actually take him with us and see."

"...What?"

"Seoyun?"

"I'm young too. Not compared to him, but still. Thanks to that, I know one thing — being a kid here doesn't help you at all. Let's take him along for a while. If he doesn't get in the way, I'll vote yes."

It was rational. And at the same time, it was brutal. What we were going to do starting today was hunt humans. And she was proposing we take an eight-year-old along to a place like that.

Reality was cold and cruel. It was hard to argue we shouldn't take him because we'd be hunting people. He'd go through all of it if he stayed with us anyway, and Na Seoyun — a minor herself — was already doing this. She was twice his age, but she was still a minor. It was something only Na Seoyun could say.

"...You want to come along?"

"Yes! I'll follow you! I'll be fine!"

Of course he would. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Given where we'd found him, and given the Tower itself, this wouldn't be the first or second time he'd seen people die. In a certain sense, this child's mental fortitude was probably better than our party's.

After seeing the state of the place where the boy had been held, Na-yeon and Nam Eun-ju had needed a full day of rest from the psychological stress. I'd shielded Na Seoyun from as much of it as I could. But I'd heard this child had lived there for over a month. He would have seen more than a few things firsthand. In terms of that kind of durability, this child was tougher.

Come to think of it, excluding me, isn't this kid the mentally strongest one here?

No — it was hard to call it mental fortitude. It was more like he was simply used to it. But separate from that, taking around a child whose values hadn't been properly formed carried a different kind of responsibility. There was no other way. Even repeating that to myself, I couldn't stop the thought from surfacing.

This was a terrible thing to do.

But I couldn't just tell the party he'd be fine because of this or that — they hadn't seen his reactions for themselves. They'd have doubts. And so we ended up taking a child on a human hunt, something unimaginable in the modern world.

Given the situation, it seemed this child would end up being accepted into the party. That was fine in its own way. Whatever else, this was a child with Supreme-tier potential. He wouldn't be useful right now, but looking toward the future, taking him in was the right call.

After much deliberation, I accepted Na Seoyun's suggestion.

Provisional membership.

Even that was enough to put a happy look on the boy's face.

"I'll work hard!"

No — he didn't need to do anything. The idea was to take him along for the future, not the present. Though it wouldn't be long before he grew into a fighting asset in his own right. The status window's corrections meant that even a child this young, if they had the talent, would develop a physique stronger than an adult's. And as I'd said time and again, we were at the very forefront. Growth was inevitably fast.

Today, we ended up taking the child on a human hunt. When Han Ba-da heard we were bringing a kid along, her face went wide with shock. But after hearing the full explanation, she spoke with a sad expression.

"...I can definitely feel it. It's uncomfortable even looking at him properly. If it's this bad for me..."

Han Ba-da's physical ability ranked third even across my party and hers combined. And even she found it uncomfortable to look at him? She quickly understood why other people couldn't even perceive the boy.

"Even so, taking an eight-year-old to a place like that..."

"I-I'm going."

Afraid that Han Ba-da's words might get him kicked out of the party, Ha Yoo-jin voiced his own desire to come. Han Ba-da couldn't ignore the child's opinion. The Tower was a place where you looked after yourself. Even if you were eight years old, if it concerned your own fate, it was hard to completely dismiss what you had to say. Besides, this was our party. Safety itself could be more than adequately guaranteed.

"...I see. All right. I won't say anything more."

She didn't have the standing to, either. It wasn't as if she could take full responsibility for the boy. Han Ba-da spoke with a bitter look.

"...This isn't your fault, Han Ba-da."

"I know. But... I know it's unavoidable, but..."

She couldn't finish the sentence. Bitter eyes. The wall of reality.

"Today I plan to hit these two locations."

I pointed out today's targets on the faction map.

"I'll deploy people to secure them as soon as you arrive."

We hadn't used this method at first, but starting from the second day, this was how we operated. It was more efficient, and it also helped establish Han Ba-da's authority. Recently, the Free Coalition's representative was, for all intents and purposes, Han Ba-da rather than Choi Jung-heon.

I moved with my party to the zone I'd designated. The Labyrinth Faction's garrison was smaller than expected. This was close to the border — they should have stationed more people here. But given how close it was to Free Coalition territory, it seemed some of them had gotten spooked by my recent raids and pulled out. They were probably scrambling to hunt and make it to the next floor.

"Fewer than I thought."

"We still can't let our guard down. Yoo-jin is in the rear this time."

"...Right."

I sent a telepathic message to the party, telling them to keep a close eye on the child's reactions. That was why we'd brought him. The party nodded.

This was the same raid we'd been running for three days straight. We identified the sentries with practiced ease, used Na-yeon's Sylph to take them out, and stormed the cavern interior in a single rush. Perhaps because of previous experience, there were few people being used as slaves — most of them were Labyrinth Faction combatants. Not that their level was anything to write home about.

"It's Yoo Shin-hoo! Yoo Shin-hoo's attacking!"

"Damn it! Call the ones who went out!"

The interior descended into chaos in an instant. Normally, when the numbers were high, we'd protect the backline and pick them off one by one. But starting from the third day, too many of them had started running, so Na Seoyun and I would tear through the front. This time, though, with Ha Yoo-jin here, I was the only one ripping through their formation.

Arrows and weapons concentrated on me. They meant nothing. I supplemented my strength with mana and used my speed to dodge the incoming arrows. I either evaded the weapons swinging at me or cut them down in turn, picking off the terror-stricken one by one.

BANG!

KRA-BOOM!

And from behind, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Na sisters' magical bombardment followed. They didn't stand a chance.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why here of all places...!"

"They said they were resting yesterday, so why the hell..."

They'd probably assumed that after a day off, we'd be heading to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the 12th floor. The balance had, in fact, started to tilt a little over those three days. Han Ba-da alone would have been enough.

That was when it happened.

"Damn it! Yoo Shin-hoo?"

"We're fu— wait, huh?"

A group of them appeared near where our party's backline was positioned — they'd apparently been on their way back from a hunt. Their judgment was fast.

"Stay away from Yoo Shin-hoo!"

"If Yoo Shin-hoo isn't here...!"

It was true that the backline had never been this exposed without me around. But I wasn't worried. Even without me, the gap in combat power was obvious.

"Kill them! Kill them now! Before Yoo Shin-hoo gets here...!"

A flash of movement.

"Haaaah!"

Nam Eun-ju charged toward the warriors rushing in.

A barrier snapped into place at once. Nam Eun-ju showed no mercy to those targeting the rear.

THUD!

Nam Eun-ju's charge hit them in a single burst. She sent two or three burly men flying at once, then cut down those trying to slip past her. Then she shouted at a man a little farther away.

"...Ghk!"

The difference in mana stats. Thanks to that, the gaze of the man who'd gotten closest to the rear snapped toward Nam Eun-ju.

Then something unexpected happened.

A flash. A wet thunk.

"Hhk! No!"

"...Huh?"

When had he even run in? Ha Yoo-jin, who had clearly been under protection in the rear, drove a dagger into the nape of the man whose gaze had been completely pulled away by the Taunt.