Stage Fifty Cleared
B-class Hunter Park Minho has cleared Stage 50 of the Tower of Chaos.
“Whew.”
I scooped up only the most valuable monster byproducts and hurried out of the tower as fast as I could.
“Everyone is looking at you, my lord.”
“A message must have gone out, same as with Seungcheon Tower.”
I was the only person who’d just emerged, so there was no real room for doubt. Black hair, brown eyes—an East Asian man with an unfamiliar name. No matter how many times I scanned the crowd, there wasn’t another one like me in the area.
“Th-th-th-that’s him!”
“The Tower of Chaos has been completely cleared!”
“It has to be this guy!”
Every gaze in the vicinity locked onto me. I supposed I should count myself lucky—there were fewer people here than during the promotion exam.
“Why is that a blessing?”
“Because it’s a hassle.”
“Haaah. We ought to spread your renown until there is not a soul left who has not heard the name of my lord.”
Sir Isra. I was already starting to get nervous. Surely she wouldn’t—
“Behold! This man is Park Minho, master of Isra, the greatest sword of the continent!!”
Sir Isra’s voice rang out like a cathedral bell. Wait. Had she poured mana into it? The sheer volume drowned out every other sound in the square, as if a megaphone had been left in the dust.
Somebody save me. Sir Isra. Why did the embarrassment always have to be mine alone?!
“Iron skull.”
“Mage. Are you uncomfortable?”
Yes. Ingrid. At least you try to rein her in.
“I’ll grant you this much of that chivalry you worship.”
“You understand something of it, then.”
“Of course. Elevating our master’s name is our sacred duty, is it not?”
I’m here too, y’know!
Master. Greatness.
Ah. Aaaaaah. Is the world ending or what?
The people who’d been stealing glances now stared at me openly. The effect was unmistakable.
“Sir Isra. Do you speak Italian, too?”
“What tongue is that, pray tell?”
Please don’t answer a question with a question.
“Our voices are also thoughts, you see.”
The Resurrected were both human and undead. The lingering thoughts of the dead, it turned out, were automatically translated for whoever heard them.
“Whoa.”
I was a little jealous. Next time I needed an interpreter, I could just ask Sir Isra or Ingrid.
“…Or not.”
That was enough public humiliation for one day.
“Hyung! Congratulations!”
“I knew you’d break Stage 50!”
The support team came barreling over. Thank god. Knowing I wasn’t alone took some of the edge off the discomfort.
“Where’s President Baek?”
“He’s over there with the guild people, I think.”
“He said he’d wait there until news of you came out.”
“Let’s go.”
I wanted to put as much distance between myself and the Tower of Chaos as humanly possible, even if it was only a second sooner.
I nudged open the door of an old building near the tower.
“That’s a lie!”
“Stage fifty?!”
“Impossible! My money!!!!”
A spectacle of pure chaos unfolded—different from the tower, but chaos all the same.
“You’ve arrived. Congratulations.”
President Baek greeted me with a perfectly calm expression.
“You’re awfully low-key about this.”
“I believed Hunter Park would see the end of the tower.”
“Why is everyone losing their minds in here?”
If they’d looked at me and gone Wow! or You’re the hunter who cleared Stage 50?, I would have understood. But look at this atmosphere. The man who’d just cleared Stage 50 was standing right in front of them, and not one person so much as glanced my way.
“These are the people who bet that Hunter Park would fail at Stage 10 or Stage 20.”
“Oof. Yeah, that would do it.”
“Thanks to you, I’ve made nearly ten billion won. I’m grateful.”
“Don’t mention it—wait, what?”
Ten billion?
“Yes. The odds dropped, so that’s as far as it went.”
“I made money off you too, you know.”
A neutral voice cut into the conversation. Huh? Even with the Heavenly Martial Body sharpening my senses, I hadn’t noticed anyone standing beside me until I heard that voice. The moment I started to turn toward the wrongness of it—
“Come no closer.”
“Before you reach our master, why not speak with us first?”
My two subordinates stepped in to block the way. The owner of the neutral voice was dressed head to toe in black. Gender, age, combat role—none of it could be inferred.
“I only wished to offer my thanks. Must you be so cold?”
“Your outfit is practically dripping with suspicion.”
It wasn’t just the clothes. Both of my subordinates were reacting slower than usual. Ingrid, maybe I could understand—but Sir Isra should have moved before the voice even reached us. This was a hunter. A highly skilled one, without question.
Looks like someone from the same line of work, big boss.
Not archaeology, that was for sure. Specialized in theft or assassination, most likely.
“I hope we meet again.”
The figure who’d made zero effort to hide how suspicious they looked waved both hands and walked out.
“President Baek. Do you know that person?”
“No. First time I’ve seen them.”
Hmm. I’d assumed he would recognize them if they were famous. Apparently not. Then again, with their entire body wrapped that tightly, there wouldn’t have been a way to tell even if they were a celebrity.
“Sir. Could you have stopped them?”
“I believe I could have managed two exchanges.”
“That’s no ordinary opponent.”
A bead of sweat slid down beneath Ingrid’s chin. Someone strong enough to put both of my subordinates on edge. SS-class, maybe?
“If I am to protect my lord, I must grow stronger still.”
“This girl will redouble her efforts as well.”
Come on. If they’d meant us harm, they would have attacked on the spot. No need to overthink it.
“Shall we be off? We ought to hold a celebration of some kind.”
“You’re treating, right, President?”
“Of course. I can even ring a few bells if you’d like.”
“You don’t have to go that far.”
“This is money Hunter Park earned for me. If not now, when would I spend it?”
Money made on trust. The fact that the process had been gambling was the only real blemish on an otherwise lovely thing.
“I’ve found an excellent place. You’ll be satisfied.”
President Baek strode ahead. We hurried after him, wiping the mysterious hunter clean from our minds as we went.
Cross Gate.
Intersecting dimensions that had opened across the world. Roughly twenty passages had been discovered so far. Coincidentally, every nation that hosted an entrance to a Cross Gate ranked among the so-called “advanced countries.”
Each nation controlled the existence of and access to its Cross Gate with iron discipline, doing everything possible to prevent abuse. But controlling every factor was, realistically, impossible.
For example—
“That was a fun little outing.”
—people like the figure who’d just walked out of the gambling den near the Tower of Chaos with a fortune in hand.
“You’ve been to Earth again.”
“I didn’t use a token, so spare me the lecture.”
“We stand on the brink of a great undertaking. I would prefer you refrain from actions that provoke the hunters.”
“The Quagmire of Obsession.”
The man covered in dense tattoos from face to skin lifted his head slowly.
“I went to see the one who tore through it.”
“Park Minho, was it?”
“Ah. Yeah, that sounds right.”
The Black Sky Society. Contractors of the Demon King who had seeped into the Cross Gates. The figure who’d exchanged a light greeting with Minho at the gambling den was one of them.
“You didn’t kill him?”
“It wasn’t a commission. The failure was yours.”
“Don’t delude yourself.”
The tattooed man’s expression turned frigid.
“All I was commissioned to do was create a Quagmire of Obsession at a designated location.”
That much was true. The Superhuman General Bureau’s commission had been for a trap gate—one that even a talented hunter at the C-class level could never escape alive. Minho walking out of the Quagmire of Obsession had been unexpected, but the commission itself had been properly fulfilled, so the man had every right to talk back.
“How many sacrifices?”
“Twenty-one thousand thirty-four.”
Ten thousand to artificially create the gate. The rest had been spent carving the trap. Using a mighty spell that borrowed the power of a demon, they had built a stage from which even an A-class hunter could not emerge alive.
“Damn. What a waste of lives.”
“Since when did you care whether people lived or died?”
“Heh. That’s why I didn’t kill your commission target.”
“I told you the commission only went as far as digging the trap.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The figure cloaked entirely in black pulled off muffler and hood. Short hair dyed green. Pale skin, slightly elongated ears, and crimson eyes. A cat-eyed beauty who looked to be in her twenties stretched with a languid roll of her shoulders.
“Ugh. So stuffy.”
“Italy’s Cross Gate security may be especially lax, but you should still be careful.”
“I only went to look at Park Minho’s face and come straight back.”
“Your impression of him, Ellie?”
“Not bad. His face clears the bar, at least.”
“I have no interest in your taste in faces.”
Ellie clicked her tongue.
“Boring.”
“He is the hunter who conquered the Quagmire of Obsession. He may yet become an obstacle to our great design.”
“His summons weren’t ordinary, either.”
“They are merely the creations of a B-class necromancer.”
“They reacted to my movement.”
The tattooed man’s motion halted for a beat.
“Impossible.”
An SS-class hunter specialized in assassination and stealth—that was Ellie. When she truly meant to hide, even the executives of the Black Sky Society struggled to notice her.
“His power is clearly weak, but he smelled dangerous.”
“So he is no ordinary necromancer.”
“He’s a necromancer, sure, but… something felt off.”
Doubt surfaced across the tattooed man’s face.
“He was a step late, but that Minho guy reacted to my presence, too.”
First the summons of a B-class necromancer, and now the man himself seeing through Ellie’s presence. The tattooed man let out a sigh of sheer absurdity.
“It would be ideal if we could recruit him.”
“Want me to poke at him a little?”
“Do not act recklessly. He is a hunting dog being raised by the Executioner. This is not for you to move on first.”
At the word Executioner, Ellie frowned.
“I hate that old man.”
The hunter who managed Korea’s Cross Gate. Director Jeong Seungil was one of the core figures standing in the way of the Black Sky Society’s advance.
“Maybe I should have just killed him.”
“I told you not to act recklessly.”
“I’m joking. If I’d made a move there, I would have been in danger too.”
Taking down the two summons and Minho? If she’d set her mind to it, it would have been possible. Handling the aftermath would not. Most hunters belonging to the Black Sky Society were extreme criminals, and Ellie herself was a villain with an enormous bounty on her head for certain reasons. If she’d kicked up a fuss by eliminating Minho, she would probably have been on the far side of the River Styx by now, not a Cross Gate.
“Don’t forget to report this to the boss.”
“Is it that important? He’s not the type to chew you out over a failure of yours.”
“It was not a failure.”
The words squeezed out between clenched teeth.
“Fine, have it your way.”
“The boss appears to have taken an interest in this Minho.”
“Don’t tell me he plans to invite him into the Society?”
“As the Executioner’s hunting dog, it will not be easy. But he is worth the attempt.”
“Ah. What a pain. Nothing I can do about it, though.”
Ellie shook her head and melted into the darkness.