The Hunters (1)
‘Today’s fortune, huh...’
He’d been holding off on using it to save money, but if it came as a prize like this, there was no reason not to. Especially since it guaranteed at least rare grade. Ju Kang-rim opened Biman and checked today’s fortune.
Unlike before, it was marked with a sparkling bright glow. Yoo Wol-ryeong’s eyes sparkled in tandem.
“A guaranteed minimum rare-grade ‘Today’s Fortune’... What a valuable gift.”
“...Would you like to tap it instead?”
Seeing her fingers twitching, Ju Kang-rim held out Biman. Yoo Wol-ryeong flinched but carefully folded her fingers and shook her head.
“Statistically, I’m not the lucky type, so it’s better if I don’t. You should do it, Deputy Grim Reaper Ju Kang-rim.”
“Hmm... If you say so.”
Yeah, better to do it himself for something like this. No point letting someone else do it and regretting it later. Ju Kang-rim tapped today’s fortune to open it.
◈ A blade for capturing ghosts. Imbued with a bound spirit, it returns to its owner no matter where it’s placed.
◈ Appears as an ordinary knife to normals, but once it pierces a ghost, they can’t pull it out themselves.
A short silver dagger emerged from a box of inky blue mist, accompanied by a shining effect. It gleamed with bright silver.
“Hmm, a Fengshen Dao, huh.”
Ju Kang-rim was a bit disappointed that it was just rare-grade despite the guarantee, but Yoo Wol-ryeong showed interest.
He picked up the Fengshen Dao and examined it from all angles. The edge was razor-sharp, and the balance felt solid—it seemed usable as a dagger in its own right.
“You know it?”
“Any shaman or Taoist carries one. Handy for binding evil spirits. Since immortals have unified body and soul, it should work on them too. But...”
Yoo Wol-ryeong extended her hand as if asking to take a look. Ju Kang-rim handed her the Fengshen Dao.
She inspected the blade and the patterns on the hilt, then tapped the hilt to draw out the blade. Below the separated blade was an engraved name.
“Quality stuff. Made in Hwotukjingun’s forge.”
“Handmade?”
“You think the underworld has factories? Hwotukjingun’s the most famous blacksmith down there. But his forge stopped over a century ago in mortal time. Rare-grade, sure, but anyone who knows its worth would pay top dollar for it—like a luxury item.”
Click. Yoo Wol-ryeong reassembled the Fengshen Dao and handed it back to Ju Kang-rim.
“So even the same Fengshen Dao varies in value by maker?”
At that, Yoo Wol-ryeong pulled something from her pocket. Ju Kang-rim recognized it instantly as a Saingeom. But its form was odd—more like a hilt than a full blade, impossible to guess its complete shape.
“You have a Saingeom too, Deputy Grim Reaper Ju Kang-rim. Every grim reaper does, but their power and form differ for each.”
“Hmm... Got it. So what grade’s a Saingeom?”
“Saingeoms are off the charts.”
She said it like it was obvious.
“A Saingeom is the root and cycle of the underworld itself. Can you rank birth, sunlight, or death, Deputy Grim Reaper Ju Kang-rim? Even a mythic relic wouldn’t trade for one.”
That serious? Ju Kang-rim had asked lightly, but her earnest tone threw him off. Yeomra had handed it over so casually that he’d figured it was like standard-issue gear for soldiers. He hadn’t grasped its true weight.
Yoo Wol-ryeong was shocked when Yeomra mentioned spare Saingeoms.
Considering how little she showed emotion, it must’ve been a big deal. Ju Kang-rim clipped the Fengshen Dao to his belt. He’d been needing a sidearm anyway—not bad.
“Seems solid as a sidearm.”
“Sidearm? Hmm. Well, your Saingeom’s still basic, so I figured something with more firepower...”
“More firepower?”
“Like my sidearm, for example...”
She lifted her suit jacket to reveal it.
“S&W Magnum. The revolver of trust and faith.”
A sleek silver revolver sat snug in her chest holster.
“My Saingeom’s heavy, so I need something for mid-range suppression.”
“...”
Not what he’d expected, but what could he say when a senior grim reaper swore by it? He just nodded awkwardly.
“So, what’s the plan for that guy?”
She turned her head. In her line of sight lay the charred man—the hunter Han Min-seong, caught in the fake Lopez’s suicide blast at the end. Severe burns, but Ju Kang-rim’s first aid had saved his life.
Ju Kang-rim smirked sideways.
“Got something in mind.”
“Han Min-seong.”
Han Min-seong opened his eyes at the voice calling him. His vision blurred; he could barely see. His last memory: the guy he’d thought was Lopez self-destructing right in front of him.
Oddly, there was almost no pain. Then someone leaned over him. Han Min-seong gradually focused on the figure approaching.
“Who...”
Backlit by moonlight, he couldn’t make out details, but it was a strange man in black robes and a hat. Even Han Min-seong, who hadn’t read many old tales, knew what it evoked.
“Grim reaper...?”
For a split second, the man’s teeth flashed. Han Min-seong’s heart sank.
Massive explosion right in front of me. And now a grim reaper. So I must be...
“Am I... dead?”
The man nodded instead of answering. Strangely, Han felt no despair or sadness—just relief that he could finally rest.
How many awful things had he done since awakening, all for survival? His A-rank power guaranteed loans that became shackles. Repaying them led to illegal jobs, bigger shackles pulling him higher up the chain into deadlier work.
He’d always figured he’d get silenced someday.
At least I died on a mission. Not a pathetic end.
Han Min-seong fell silent, then forced his mouth open.
“I’m going to hell... right?”
“Of course.”
No need to ask. He thought of all the people he’d killed. He’d sacrificed his whole party as fodder for weapon buffs to survive zombie swarms.
But hearing it confirmed, fear hit him.
“No way.”
Sudden injustice surged. The grim reaper seemed intrigued.
“Scared of hell?”
“What did I do so wrong?”
“...You killed a fair number of people, from what I hear?”
“All to survive!”
Han Min-seong cried out desperately.
“They’d have died to zombies anyway! Better an A-rank awakener like me lives for humanity than dying geezers, kids, or scumbag hunters!”
He believed his logic. In this world, could anyone live kindly? Anyone with his power would do the same. Going to hell just for surviving this hellhole? Bullshit.
The grim reaper paused at his words. Han Min-seong felt, oddly, that he was convincing him.
After a beat of silence, the grim reaper smiled whitely from the shadows.
“In short, you don’t wanna go to hell.”
“...”
Obvious, but he nodded hesitantly. The grim reaper pulled out something red from his pocket—like a phone screen.
“You’re right, Han Min-seong. I don’t think hell fits you either.”
Hope bloomed in Han’s chest. The grim reaper smiled on.
“You belong somewhere better. Right here in the living world.”
“Then...”
“Press your thumb here. Then you can stay in the living world.”
Stay alive? Han inwardly cheered and reached out. Then doubt hit: Am I being smart? Signing without reading? I already screwed up once young with those loans. Wait, am I even dead?
As if reading his mind, the grim reaper pulled back.
“Actually, on second thought, deciding this on my own...”
“I’ll do it!”
Han Min-seong slammed his thumb on the screen. All or nothing. If he wasn’t dead, it was just a prank. If he was, no loss in living.
Blood seeped from his thumb into the screen. His head spun dizzily. Everything fogged to gray monochrome.
Only then did he realize his body felt light. He turned blankly. There lay his charred, wounded corpse.
“Congratulations.”
The “grim reaper”—Ju Kang-rim, grinning with bared teeth—watched him.
“You’re now my changgwi until the contract ends.”
Ju Kang-rim had scraped together 2,000 nyang in soul toll from zombies and the immortal Lopez to buy one item.
◈ Underworld-guaranteed contract for soul-binding. Proposer is Party A; signer is Party B.
◈ Party A borrows Party B’s soul power and abilities.
◈ Terms negotiated between parties. Mismatched rank limits usage.
Before Ju Kang-rim floated Han Min-seong, dazed and translucent.
Yoo Wol-ryeong eyed him suspiciously.
“A scam?”
“Just withheld a few facts.”
“Isn’t that scamming?”
“Eh, open to interpretation. Didn’t know he was that rotten. If he’d shown some remorse...”
“You wouldn’t have done it?”
“Nah, I’d have felt bad too. Lucky he’s evil—no guilt here.”
Ju Kang-rim drew his Saingeom. The moment he contracted Han Min-seong, his abilities and usage flooded his mind. Han’s soul seeped into the blade.
Han’s A-rank, but common contract limits it some.
Biman’s shop had rare and special contracts too, but 2,000 nyang only bought this. It extracted pure ability, stripping experience, tactics, personality—raw essence only.
Ju Kang-rim was satisfied. He’d wanted the power itself, not Han’s combat skills.
Han’s ability, Blood Rain, drained lifespan—not vitality—to empower weapons. But it required total subjugation or no resistance.
Can’t weaponize the drain itself.
Weapon boost strength? Needed testing.
Yoo Wol-ryeong watched him swing the Saingeom.
“What’ll you do with his stolen power?”
“Dunno. First, keep him from going elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere?”
“Gerald.”
She nodded. Han hadn’t used his power just for himself—he buffed Gerald’s weapons as a deputy too. Removing him cost Gerald a weapon.
“And I’ve got one idea brewing.”
“What?”
Ju Kang-rim started to explain—but a roaring engine noise cut him off. They turned.
Tatata-tatata.
The hotel shuddered from multiple blasts’ echoes. Outside the window, countless helicopters swept searchlights over the building.
Ju Kang-rim glanced out and identified them.
“US military. Here for their stuff, looks like.”