Chapter 49
Chapter 49
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: North Korean Territory Recovery
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Monsters… aren’t coming out?”
It was an ironclad rule that had never failed once: after a certain amount of time, new monsters would emerge from the Gate.
“Any monsters from Zone 2?”
“No Zone 2 monsters detected.”
“No Zone 4 monsters detected.”
Reports came in via communication items from Hunters spread throughout the Gate. No monsters appeared anywhere.
“We did it!”
Someone shouted first, and soon everyone was cheering.
Even the confident Jaein wiped away sweat, revealing he’d actually been a bit tense.
With this, Korea had taken one step further from the threat of Gate Breaks.
* * *
Even after the Awakening Bureau waited several days at the site of the reversed Bridge Gate, no monsters emerged.
Reassured by the successful first experiment, they proceeded to reverse other Gates in sequence. It felt a bit rushed, but monsters were still pouring through from the Bridge Gate toward Tellus. For the Korean government, strapped for manpower, it was an unavoidable choice.
Reversed Gates either didn’t reset at all, or if monsters did emerge, their numbers dropped to less than half.
“ Nineteen years since Gates first opened! At last, we’ve taken a step closer to fully understanding them.”
On a talk show discussing the Bridge Gate reversal, the host declared passionately.
“Isn’t that an exaggeration? We’ve only reversed 43 Gates. That’s just 10 percent of the 400 Gates in Korea.”
A university professor, one of the pessimists, said smugly from his seat.
“You seem unaware of what rank those 45 Gates were. They were all B, C, and D-rank. Limiting it to those ranks, that’s not 10 percent—it’s 50 percent.”
Professor Lee Moo-yeol, who had taught the history of Gates and Awakeners at the Academy, challenged the pessimist’s numbers.
“What does that matter? Overall, it’s still just 10 percent, isn’t it?”
“It matters a great deal. Everyone knows Korea lacks enough C-rank and higher Hunters relative to its population. Hunters have been overexerting themselves to prevent Breaks. If this leads to a drop in Hunter mortality rates inside Gates, Korea’s Hunter base will strengthen, which in turn will reduce Break risks.”
The pessimist professor, who had been pushing his gloomy view, wore a dissatisfied expression at Professor Lee Moo-yeol’s pointed words but couldn’t respond.
“Moreover, this is just the beginning. Researching this technique could help uncover the cause of Gates.”
Professor Lee Moo-yeol spoke with confidence. For those who had lived through the initial Gate disaster, this event held immense significance.
People rejoiced at the news of Gates shrinking. After all, it meant fewer disasters.
However, an unexpected side effect soon emerged.
Work for C-rank and higher Hunters had been cut in half. With their sudden income drop, these Hunters started clearing multiple D, E, and F-rank Gates below their level. This dealt an even greater blow to the livelihoods of the far more numerous low-rank D and below Hunters.
Just 10 percent of all Gates had rocked the Hunter industry. Neither the public nor the Hunters saw any direct, immediate benefits from fewer Gates—only a reduction in future anxiety. But the decrease hurt Hunters directly and rippled through the Korean economy.
I hadn’t considered this before stopping Helen. No—not that I hadn’t considered it; I hadn’t bothered. With the world on the brink of ruin if we failed, there was no time or reason to weigh profits.
* * *
“Hyung, did you see the announcement?”
“North Korean territory recovery?”
“Yeah. The Awakening Bureau played it smart. With Hunters losing work and heading overseas, they’re offering jobs while fulfilling a long-held wish.”
“True. At this rate, reclaiming the territory would’ve taken decades.”
Most of North Korea’s land was mountains, infested with monsters deep into the ranges. Hunting them and establishing new borders with only Korean Hunters would be a massive project requiring endless money and time.
But the rewards were huge too—monster magic stones and materials, plus mining North Korea’s raw resources.
“The compensation and conditions look good too. With that many people involved, it won’t be dangerous, and if you go, hyung, it’ll be totally safe.”
To quell Hunter discontent, the government and Awakening Bureau took a different approach from typical subjugation missions. They’d hire separate Hunters and scavengers employed by the Bureau to collect magic stones and byproducts from North Korean hunts. Hunters could focus purely on killing, marking spots, and leaving—speeding things up. Even Hwagok’s scavenging proxy service, now struggling with less work, was joining as an outside contractor.
“They’re really pushing for us to go together. Even without that, I was planning to. I’m already catching flak in the Hunter world for the Gate reversals and all the extra Gate runs, so I need a break from Korean Gates.”
Right after the incident, I’d been a hero for averting a potential catastrophe. But negative public opinion toward me was starting to rise. It didn’t bother me much, but no need to invite outright hate.
“What about noona?”
“Of course I’m going. I already applied.”
Nayoung was in high demand these days. She had one of the few wide-area attack skills and could deploy area control to disable monsters en masse. She earned more on subjugation missions than me, an A-rank.
Thanks to her merits over the past few months, Nayoung had ranked up to B. Sangheon, who’d hit C-rank, had been overtaken but didn’t seem to mind—Nayoung was just on another level.
“Oh, and I’m bringing a few more people.”
“Who?”
Sangheon and Nayoung tilted their heads, wondering who else.
* * *
“Hunter Ijiseok… are we really going too?”
On the morning of departure for the North Korean territory restoration subjugation mission, agency president Yoo Hyungbin scrunched his massive frame into as meek a posture as possible.
“Of course. You guys need to get somewhat useful if I’m gonna have any place to use you. Monitoring from afar is worthless otherwise.”
I’d brought the entire Hyunseong Agency crew.
They claimed their vague abilities made Hunter work impossible, so they ran an agency instead. But combining my past-life memories with what Paul taught me about mana operation, I could see potential for growth in anyone.
Of course, a bit of training wouldn’t turn them all into A-rank Hunters. Their skills might not develop at all. But you don’t know unless you try—like scratching a lottery ticket.
“Work you like dogs, and you might become somewhat useful.”
“But… will that actually improve our skills?”
Sangheon and Nayoung had said the same.
“You haven’t even tried. I’ll make you good money too, so just follow along quietly.”
Before leaving, I’d gotten brief intros to the agency brothers’ abilities.
President Yoon Hyungbin was a typical tank: 2 meters tall, with a Gigantification skill that stretched him to 3 meters. But his stamina, strength, and agility were relatively weak, so he couldn’t hold the front line. Gigantifying just made him a bigger target.
Agency No. 2, Nam Siyhwan—the guy who’d yelled at my mom and thrown a cup, only to get wrecked by me—had a Shout skill. No wonder his yells at Mom had been so piercing. Guilt made him the most servile toward me.
Chubby No Jinwoo summoned familiars, but they were tiny and weak. Short summon range meant no scouting either.
Jeong Minwoo, next biggest after the president, had come along when we trashed Seo Kyung-hyun’s door. He could morph his body, but its durability was only human-bone level—strong hits would break or sever it.
Unlike the other four burly guys, the slimmer maknae No Changhee controlled projectiles. He could curve thrown daggers or arrows around cover to hit hidden foes. The most useful ability, but he was such a coward he couldn’t even fathom launching weapons at living things. Got expelled from the Academy for it.
He was on the level of the guy who puked, panicked, bolted, and got kicked out during my Academy graduation exam.
“How did they gather trash like you all in one place?”
Lining up the five, I sighed at the collection of useless Hunters.
Low abilities for Hunters, but still stronger than normals, made them perfect for agency work against civilians. And agency gigs paid better and easier than non-Awakeners’ jobs.
“This is Yang Sangheon, and Bae Nayoung. They’re your seniors—don’t mess around and listen well.”
“Hello.”
“Hi. Oppa… you look older—shouldn’t you use casual speech?”
Nayoung, who’d only seen me polite with others, seemed surprised when I went casual. The president was a few years older than me, but the rest looked younger.
“Oh, right, I didn’t mention. Im Sungjun sent thugs to my mom’s shop once.”
“Yeah, her cheek got hurt. Why bring it up now?”
Nayoung looked at me, confused by the timing.
“Him.”
I pointed at Nam Siyhwan.
Nayoung’s eyes instantly darkened, dark purple mana surging behind her.
“Calm down. I already tracked him and beat him right away. Hurting Mom wasn’t intentional.”
Nam Siyhwan, knocked out in one hit by me, had been hurt worst that day—used the most potions.
“Still… why go with guys like this?”
“Hmm… Gotta give people a chance, right?”
Nayoung would’ve turned villain without my intervention. Bad ties are ties too, so I wanted to give the agency brothers a shot. And they weren’t irredeemable scum.
Plus, after all the suffering and filth from my past life, I’d become pretty magnanimous—overlooking most things. Like not hunting down Academy punks for revenge. Though if we crossed paths, I’d give a light tap.
“And they’ll do the same training as you and Sangheon.”
I had to forcibly develop their skills, but grabbing randos and grinding them like Sangheon or Nayoung would make them flee.
These hopeless agency brothers? I could grind them guilt-free. They wouldn’t complain—or couldn’t. Dangle some carrots, raise them right, and they’d become my useful guys.
“Oh… if that’s it, then sure…”
Nayoung, knowing how brutal the training was, seemed to think they should give it a shot.
“Alright, agency brothers—gather up.”
They shuffled into a line in front of me.
“I pulled strings with a higher-up at the Awakening Bureau to get temporary Academy instructor credentials for you. Train, do real combat, and I’ll get you official Hunter licenses.”
“Really?!”
The five shouted almost in unison.
“For real. Sign here.”
I passed out the pre-approved Awakening Bureau documents.
“What’s this?”
President Yoo asked, holding a contract twenty pages thick.
“Consent form for training under me as Hunter Academy substitute to become Hunters.”
“…Can we read it?”
“Sure.”
The five squatted, huddling heads to scan the contract.
I crossed my arms, watching closely from above.
They read page one, two—but dense legalese over twenty pages, plus my silent pressure? No way it sank in.
Catching my intent, Nayoung joined, staring them down. Her gaze was colder than mine.
“Ahem. I’ll trust you. Here.”
President Yoo exchanged looks with his brothers, then handed over the signed contract.
“Good. Don’t worry—you won’t die.”
As I grinned, Nayoung looked vindicated, Sangheon clucked his tongue in pity. Realizing something was off, the agency brothers’ faces filled with worry.