The President's Endless Headaches
The president of the Korean Hunter Association, No Gwan-sik, was nursing a throbbing headache.
Problems were already piled up like a mountain, but the underworld had started kicking up a fuss like clockwork every single day lately.
"If it were up to me, I'd round 'em all up and toss 'em into the depths of a labyrinth."
Regardless of his frustrations, it was impossible in reality. Both the Association and the government had taken too much from those bastards. Most of the people stepping up now to clean up their messes would start foaming at the mouth the moment he made a real move.
"Those filthy pig-dogs... One of these days, I'll grab 'em all and wipe 'em out. No wonder the Association's in this state with relics like them hanging around as elders."
No Gwan-sik let out a heavy sigh of frustration and leaned back in his chair.
"...Rotten bastards. If they're gonna rampage, do it in their own damn country. Don't come stirring shit in someone else's."
It all came down to the country lacking power.
Sure, SS-rank was out of reach, but if they had more SA-ranks, would Japanese or Chinese hunters dare pull this crap?
It was all Seong Jae-myeong's fault.
He'd dragged off even the decent ones under the guise of giving them experience, and now there were no real talents left.
If even a fraction of the people he'd taken back then had survived, the country wouldn't be in this mess.
Fortunately, things were slowly recovering to their golden age levels, but the one thing they desperately lacked was the most crucial: an SS-rank.
"...At least Kwon Je-na from Galaxy and that girl are close to SS-rank, right?"
He wasn't sure if Ssangryong's guild master or Kwon Je-na herself could break through the wall he'd failed to surmount for decades, but No Gwan-sik hoped she'd do it soon if possible.
That way, crap like this wouldn't happen again.
It was better to cower under one absolute powerhouse like in Seong Jae-myeong's days than to tiptoe around everyone like now.
"So, Seok-ho."
At his low call, a near-dead voice responded quietly from the corner of the president's office.
"...Yes."
"How's the situation on both sides? Any changes?"
"...It's a stalemate. The S-ranks have stepped up to the front lines, but the Chinese S-ranks have been worn down so much that there's no real shift...."
Hwang Seok-ho answered from amid a towering stack of documents reaching toward the ceiling.
His face was shadowed by deep dark circles—he hadn't rested properly in days.
"Tch... If you're gonna fight, go all out. What's the point of these pathetic skirmishes? Just end it in one clean sweep—wouldn't that be better?"
Muttering his discontent, No Gwan-sik picked up a document from the desk.
He skimmed it lightly before continuing.
"What about the Black Market? I heard the former president reclaimed power recently."
"Doesn't seem like they're planning anything big right away."
"...Yeah. With China and Japan both being such massive players, what could they do without even an SA-rank? Better stay quiet if they don't want their backs broken in the whale fight."
No Gwan-sik set the document down and crossed his arms thoughtfully.
"So, any opening for us to step in?"
"...We could make one, but we don't have the forces to spare."
"Ugh... What about the major guilds then?"
"Ssangryong's silent as always, and Dawn or Bukdu won't have the bandwidth."
No Gwan-sik rubbed his furrowed brow at Hwang Seok-ho's adept response amid the paperwork.
"Fair enough. Both took heavy losses in the last Lava Zone expedition."
"Yes. Bukdu aside, Dawn's guild master personally led the raid and vanished. It's a disaster."
"Mm... Definitely an SS-rank monster, right?"
Hwang Seok-ho nodded firmly.
"It's the Lava Zone area boss that had never been found before. Word is, the other top five guilds are teaming up to take it down."
"Timing's impeccable... We can't help as the Association, let alone ask them to handle underworld crap."
"Of course not."
No Gwan-sik sighed at Hwang Seok-ho's matter-of-fact nod.
"What about Galaxy or Seongho?"
"As I mentioned, they're likely forming a joint expedition with Dawn and Bukdu to hunt that SS-rank monster."
"...First SS-rank monster since Seong Jae-myeong died—they'll want it bad."
Plus, the value of an SS-rank monster corpse was immense. They'd charge in with fire in their eyes.
Feeling suffocated, No Gwan-sik groaned.
Glancing at him, Hwang Seok-ho quietly offered, "What about commissioning a smaller guild instead of the majors?"
"Which one? Everyone decent is busy with the raid. Mid-tiers can't even get in on this. Need at least an SA-rank."
"There's one that fits."
"...Hm. You mean them?"
A guild flashed in his mind, drawing an involuntary exclamation.
"Hwarang."
"Yes. Song Jae-ha would handle it well."
"...Mm."
No Gwan-sik tapped the desk lightly.
Hwarang was a mid-tier guild, declining after losing its vice-guild master and much of its forces in the labyrinth anomaly half a year ago.
Dissolution was inevitable without intervention, but Song Jae-ha had bowed fully to the Association, scraping by with their support.
In exchange, they'd become the Association's hunting dogs for odd jobs, but that backing had restored their former glory recently.
Above all, Song Jae-ha's relentless efforts had elevated him to SA-rank, positioning Hwarang to rival the top five soon enough.
"...Hm. Will that cocky punk Song Jae-ha take the job? His head's been swelling lately—he's starting to push back."
"Promise full Association support going forward. With the majors checking them and their growth ambitions, they'll need us."
"Hm..."
No Gwan-sik weighed it in his mind.
"Fine. Hwarang it is. Set up a meeting with that punk."
"Meeting him personally?"
"He's done his dog duties well enough for a face-to-face. Plus, the guild master's SA-rank—gotta keep up appearances, right?"
With that, No Gwan-sik rose slowly.
'And time to tighten the leash while I'm at it.'
He strolled leisurely to the window, clasping his hands behind his back.
"The real problem's elsewhere, though."
"...China's mad dogs?"
Hwang Seok-ho set down his papers cautiously.
"Yeah. With Wang Feng backing Zhang Wei, he might step in personally depending on how this plays out."
"...I'll warn Song Jae-ha to stay sharp."
"No matter how it goes down, we must keep Zhang Wei alive."
"...Won't be easy."
"When's anything?"
No Gwan-sik's gaze drifted out the window with a sigh.
Hunters streamed in and out of the Association building, filling his view.
It seemed like too many for such a small country, but it still fell short.
"All these empty shells... All Seong Jae-myeong's fault. That bastard..."
Others praised him as Korea's first SS-rank, the strongest hunter, but No Gwan-sik, who knew the truth, saw him closer to villain than hero.
He couldn't deny Seong Jae-myeong's feats, but that final act—abandoning everything as the absolute powerhouse—was incomprehensible.
Whatever his adventure, whatever the labyrinth meant.
No Gwan-sik hated him.
"That damn fool... Swore he'd come back, bold as brass..."
Ten years ago, Seong Jae-myeong's parting figure, dumping it all on him, stirred fresh resentment.
What if he'd followed then...?
"Pointless thoughts... All pointless."
He shook his head and looked out again.
Hunters bustled below.
Staring blankly, No Gwan-sik muttered, "Wonder if an SS-rank hunter'll just drop outta the sky."
A wistful lament, but one that would never come true.
Hunters didn't fall from the heavens—especially not SS-ranks, the pinnacle.
He chuckled at his own absurdity.
"Only hope's that Galaxy girl."
Tomorrow or decades from now—who knew.
But as Association president and Korean citizen, No Gwan-sik desperately wished for a second SS-rank in this small nation.
'Gotta have one to slack off in peace.'
He'd tasted the perks of an SS-rank since Seong Jae-myeong's era—in every sense, he craved it like honey.
'But this time, proper leash. No more getting dragged around like with him.'
Whether leashing humanity's strongest was feasible was secondary; the necessity was absolute.
Leashless hunters were no better than monsters.
"...So for now, we keep playing nice with the neighbors."
The thought reignited his headache.
Part of him wanted to quit and hunt monsters in the depths.
"Tch."
Glancing at Hwang Seok-ho, No Gwan-sik clicked his tongue.
When would this kid pull his weight?
Quitting now would doom the Association—he knew it like fire.
'Can't leave till he shapes up.'
He'd built it himself; retirement now meant collapse.
He could endure anything else, but not that.
Pushing down retirement fantasies once more, No Gwan-sik eyed Hwang Seok-ho.
Still so green, no matter the angle.
Another tongue-click.
Hwang Seok-ho grumbled at the unfairness, but No Gwan-sik ignored it as always.
"Anyway, Seok-ho."
"...What?"
His sullen reply furrowed No Gwan-sik's brow again.
So immature, wearing his feelings on his sleeve.
At least hide your thoughts better.
Retirement could wait.
Oblivious that his own behavior caused it, No Gwan-sik swallowed a sigh and pressed on, his tone suddenly grave—unlike before.
"What about that thing from last time?"
Hwang Seok-ho flinched at the quiet question.
Smoothing his furrowed expression, he matched the heavy tone.
"...I've compiled it separately."
"Good. Handle it carefully—it's critical. Can't let that leak out."
"...Understood."
No Gwan-sik watched his solemn nod for a moment before looking away.
The Association was busy, but they could intervene in the underworld if pushed.
He'd built it strong enough.
Yet he hesitated for good reason.
Something graver than this mess, SS-rank hunters, or the new SS-rank monster.
This could shake not just Korean hunters, but the world.
No—once out, it would.
Not ripples, but an earthquake.
Bigger shock than Seong Jae-myeong or Charlotte Michelle's deaths.
His gaze flicked to the desk.
Amid neat stacks of papers sat a thick bundle.
Chimera Project
No Gwan-sik's eyes darkened more than ever as he read it.