Code Name: Purple Bunny

That line.

Two days earlier.

I had just sent Yena off on the kindergarten bus and was taking a solitary stroll near the park when the traffic thinned out of nowhere and a crowd came into view.

Oh-ho.

Local broadcast vans. Cameras. People being handed numbered bibs.

From what looked like an eighty-year-old to little kids, every age group was represented. At a glance, it was clearly some kind of local marathon.

I folded my arms and watched the scene with warm satisfaction.

Nostalgic. I used to go to these all the time.

A homebody at a marathon? Really?

I keep saying this, but I don't hate exercise.

Who on earth dislikes working up a good sweat, taking a bath afterward, and knocking back something cold?

I just preferred doing everything alone.

Jump rope meant solo jump rope. Running meant a hundred-meter sprint over a relay. That was my style.

Because then it was only a matter of me doing well and me accepting the result. No tedious team negotiations. No arguing over whose ball it was.

In that sense, marathons were the ideal sport for me.

One good run and the loneliness eased for a while, the body got healthier, and I still got to brush shoulders with people without any pointless conversation. A chance to mingle without the mingling, if you will.

So for me, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it was exercise as consequence-free pleasure.

Hehe. Looks fun.

It seemed to be first-come, first-served rather than pre-registration. If I signed up, I might still get in.

But I dropped the thought almost at once.

The slogan on the banner read: Mana-Free Marathon.

I settled for spectating and stood near the broadcast crew.

"Yes, the thing you're all most curious about—the prize money! To cut straight to it, first place is a full twenty million won!"

……

"Hnnngh—I'm sorry."

Kang Jiye had me by the scruff again.

Damn it. This is so unfair.

She hadn't grabbed me because she found me suspicious.

Hunter occupational hazard. The moment something tried to bolt, her instincts had simply arrested it.

She only pieced the situation together after the news started rolling across the television.

"Wow…… Look at that smug face. You are shameless. You."

Kang Jiye was so floored she couldn't even finish her sentences.

Every time words like effort, usual routine, or exercise came up, she let out a strangled "Ha!"

Knowing full well what a shut-in I was, she had every right to be stunned.

"Mmff."

She squished both of my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cheeks flat.

"Exercise on a regular basis? You? Pecia von Chiffonside, exercising regularly?"

I nodded as best I could in my new life as a goldfish.

Kang Jiye's eyes blazed.

"A kid who never leaves the house, pale as a sheet—what exercise? Without mana, you'd snap if someone poked you."

With my cheeks still pancaked, I forced out an answer.

"I can'h jush shay tha' honehtly, can I?"

"Is that supposed to be an excuse? In case you didn't know, what you just did is a crime. A crime, you little brat."

My eyes went wide.

"I'll shplit it half. Pleash don't report me."

"What?"

"It'h twenty million. I'll give you ten."

"Oh for heaven's sake. Now you're trying to bribe a public official."

Kang Jiye laughed in pure disbelief, then sighed.

Then she stretched my cheeks out sideways again.

"Hnnnyaah—!"

"You. You're not a monster."

"Huh?"

"You're not a monster—you're a full-blown criminal. Where did all that talk about logic go? Why are you out here running scams?"

"I'm shorry. But."

"But what."

"Having power an' jus' watching the world isn't right."

"Huh?"

"I need to make Party Bears."

Honestly, she had a point—wait, no. I had a point.

The money I earned was going to go into making Party Bears, wasn't it? And those Party Bears would protect people from monsters.

So all I had done was act in the name of justice.

Calling it simple fraud was a stretch. Kang Jiye shouldn't be scolding me—she should be praising me.

"You unnerstand?"

"……"

Kang Jiye just blinked at me, blank.

My flawless logic had left her speechless.

"Unnie? Unnie."

"……What."

"You've got a bump on your head."

"……"

That evening, Yena stared at my swollen forehead with pure scientific curiosity.

I answered with the face of someone who had just bitten into something foul.

"It's not a bump. A mosquito bit me."

"It's winter."

Ugh. Seriously.

"Be honest with me."

The next day, Kang Jiye sat me down on the living room floor.

She'd had to pick Yena up the night before and never finished the scolding. Now she was making up for lost time.

I answered carefully.

"About what?"

She fixed me with a serious look.

"That twenty million won. Does it change the big picture going forward, or not."

"……"

The big picture?

Honestly, twenty million won bought a bit of high-grade Mana ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Cloth and Mana Cotton. At best, enough for one B-class Party Bear.

Especially if the gate that would open at the Academy was S-class—I'd be better off spending that time training skills.

I hung my head and shook it.

"It doesn't."

"So you did it for fun. Pulling a scam felt thrilling."

"……That's extremely accurate."

Thwack!

Kang Jiye flicked me lightly on the forehead.

"You're under special surveillance starting today."

And just like that, from that day on I had to report my schedule to Kang Jiye every time I went anywhere.

After each outing came a family meeting at dinner where I had to account for every step I'd taken. She even installed a child-safety app so she could track my location at all times.

I couldn't put up any resistance.

As it turned out, this world strictly forbade using supernatural abilities to commit fraud.

If mana wasn't tightly controlled, the whole system of law and order could start to crack—or so they said.

It was treated almost as seriously as counterfeiting currency.

The only reason Kang Jiye had gone easy on me was that I was a monster and therefore lacked common sense.

"Games are banned starting today, too."

"What?"

"Only at set times. Only set amounts."

Even my phone time got regulated.

She'd decided that holing up in my room gaming every day was bad for my mental health.

I windmilled my fists and charged her.

"Yaaaaaah!!"

"Wh—what is this kid—?"

"Because of you I can't play, I can't make Party Bears—!"

"Would you hold still for one second?! You think I'd ban everything without a plan? Here. Take this."

"Huh? What is this. An ID?"

"It's what you wanted. But promise me. You only use it under the conditions I give you. And if things get dangerous, you run. No exceptions."

"……!"

This is ridiculous. Does she even know how old I am.

A college graduate with completed military service, getting treated like this.

Looking young on the outside really does open you up to every kind of humiliation.

Grumbling under my breath, I headed toward a man who looked like the administrator.

"Hello. Any spots left?"

"Oh, finally someone showed. Hand over your credentials."

I had come to a gate party.

Kang Jiye had authorized me to enter any gate of D-class or lower, as I pleased.

For someone thrashing around in boredom, it was perfect timing.

I held out the name card she'd given me. The gate administrator studied it, then tilted his head.

"Codename Purple Bunny. Hunter Administration Safety Keeper……?"

He looked me over, puzzled.

"What's a Safety Keeper doing here?"

"Clearing the gate, of course. I need the record."

A Safety Keeper was basically the hunter equivalent of a cop.

Gates cut off outside communication, so robbery, murder, and every other flavor of crime happened constantly inside them.

If nine people out of ten decided to put the tenth in the ground, proving anything afterward was nearly impossible.

Hence the Hunter Administration's Safety Keepers.

For gates expected to pay out big, or parties with suspicious members, an officially certified ability user tagged along to keep accidents from happening.

"Hmm……"

The administrator looked me up and down.

My skinny arms and legs and small frame were clearly bothering him.

Most hunters kept up a physical regimen, after all. Fighting on pure mana alone was inefficient.

But he wouldn't be able to learn a thing about me.

I was wearing a rabbit mask right now.

Safety Keepers were allowed to hide their identities out of concern for retaliation.

"The party's looking pretty shaky. You sure about this…?"

He pointed somewhere with a voice full of doubt.

In a corner of the camp, nine men and women sat crumpled together. Every face was tight with nerves—clearly no real leader among them.

Didn't matter to me. It was a D-class gate. What was the worst that could happen.

I nodded.

"Well, it's a weak gate, so it shouldn't be a problem. If anything comes up, just turn around and walk out."

"Thank you."

He's worried about me.

He came off cold, but he was being considerate in his own way.

Most of the people who got into trouble inside gates were young men and women—short on caution, short on experience.

When I approached the party, every eye locked onto me at once.

"Oh! Hello. I'm the party leader, Park Dahoon."

"Safety Keeper Purple Bunny."

We went around exchanging greetings one by one. Most of them were carrying firearms. None of them had particularly strong mana.

Gates of D-class and below were usually built like this.

People who couldn't really handle magic, doing hunter work with the power of science instead.

Of course, that also meant that if they ever ran into a magic type that messed with metal, they all had to be ready to die together.

"Waaah—this is my first time having a Safety Keeper join us."

"I've never seen one either."

The party's reaction was mostly positive.

None of them had cleared a gate more than five times, so every moment was pure tension. Of course they were glad to have a Safety Keeper.

"Looks like we can finally head out. Shall we?"

"Yes."

"Sounds good."

"Let's go already."

Leader Park Dahoon herded us straight toward the gate.

Apparently half the people who'd promised to show had flaked. Some overslept and forgot. Some got scared and canceled.

Parties without an experienced leader ran into that kind of thing a lot, I was told.

He'd moved fast in case anyone else decided to bail.

And then it started.

Everyone was so excited about the departure that they began spouting hopeful lines left and right.

"Um. Today is my first ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time going out since I got my hunter license!"

"Hye-yeon, you're still in high school, right? Aren't you pushing yourself a little hard?"

"Hehe. I'm the head of the household. If I want to feed my little siblings, I don't have a choice."

"Ah…. I understand. I've got my elderly mother home alone right now, too."

"That must be tough for you, mister… Hang in there! Let's all come back rich!"

"Haha. Fighting."

"This Christmas, I'm definitely going to bring Santa!"

"Hahahaha."

"……"

Was it just me, or did something about this feel extremely unlucky?