The Day of the Hunt

It was a familiar ceiling.

The ceiling of the studio apartment I had stared at for years. A sight so familiar I could summon it with my eyes closed.

Yet today, simply facing that everyday view made my cheek twitch.

"Status window."

I could not tear my gaze from the letter D for a long while.

It was no dream.

The D-rank wall I had failed to climb for years. Looking at the status window, the thrill of having finally done it raced up my spine once more.

"Khhhhhhh."

"Why are you moping around all alone like that?"

"Ah, shit."

You startled me. Next time, flip on a turn signal or something before you barge in, please.

"That's a pretty rough morning greeting."

"I only spoke because you looked ready to cry while staring blankly at the ceiling."

"Were you always this blunt even when you were alive?"

"Indeed. Whatever rose in my heart, I always gave it voice."

So our knightly lady had always been tone-deaf. Noted for future reference.

I washed up quickly and finished getting ready to go out.

"At last the day of the hunt has come."

"Ah. There's somewhere I need to stop first."

"Off to the workshop again, are we?"

"No."

Money had come in.

Time to flex.

Yongsan Hunter Market.

A hunter-equipment mall raised on the site of the old electronics market. A massive building that called a department store to mind.

The moment I stepped onto the first floor, high-grade armaments filled my vision.

Armaments of every color and shape. Through my Spirit Eye, every last one radiated a powerful mana wavelength.

The first floor had another name: the Luxury Wing. It was the floor reserved for Unique-grade items. Prices started in the billions, so you had to worry about leaving a scratch if you so much as brushed against something.

"In your world, these are objects of great worth?"

"You'd need to be in the top 0.1 percent just to touch them."

"How dull."

Look, teacher. I don't know what weapon you swung before you died, but right now you're carrying a sword I basically just hammered some bones into. A little self-awareness, please?

"To me that blade is worth more than any of those armaments."

"You serious?"

"If we speak purely of performance, neither is particularly impressive."

Ah.

I see how it is.

"Therefore, would a weapon bearing my lord's own care not be the finer choice?"

"How disgustingly thoughtful of you."

"Hahaha. It gladdens me that my lord understands my loyalty."

I walked straight past the Luxury Wing and boarded the elevator, pressing the button for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠floor F where the daily-use goods were sold.

Ding.

The doors opened onto a scene completely different from the first floor. More lively, somehow. Where the Luxury Wing had been almost hard to breathe in, the fourth floor let you browse at ease.

"Quite the crowd."

"Every other floor is like this."

The Luxury Wing was the special case. The first floor existed mainly as a showpiece to flaunt the market's scale.

"Perhaps you might finally tell me what you came to find."

"I'm here for a bag."

Bone Metallurgy could be handled by renting a workshop for the time being. What I needed was a bag with spatial storage so I could carry aged corpse pieces and tools around with me.

"Excuse me. Looking for a spatial bag."

"These days a lot of hunters favor this design."

The clerk recommended a backpack style.

"What's the capacity and price?"

"It holds up to two hundred kilograms. Price is three hundred ten million."

An amount that would empty my entire savings. Not bad, but it didn't quite click for me.

"Any other styles?"

"There are smaller ones, but the capacity drops accordingly."

A handbag of the same price range only held seventy kilograms. A wallet managed a mere twenty.

Hmm.

I rubbed my chin, still deliberating, when another product caught my eye.

"Do you sell that one too?"

"Ah, the cargo carrier. That model's been discontinued—it's the last one."

Capacity matched the backpack at two hundred kilograms. The design was close enough to the carrier ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I had dragged around day and night for years that my heart leaned toward it at once.

"Looks like it's been out a while."

"Hunters tend to prefer backpacks, you see."

"Because you can't use one hand freely."

The difference between something on your back and something you pull by hand. Losing the use of one hand in an unexpected fight was a serious penalty. No wonder the model had been discontinued and the trend had swung to backpacks.

"How much?"

"Two hundred million."

Perfect.

This one was mine.

The inconvenience of dragging it? After five years of the same routine it already felt natural. Combat I could leave to Sir Isra. I still had about a hundred million left. Finding a permanent workshop could wait. Reinforcing Isra or forging gear was something I could manage with a single day's rental. What I needed right now were tools that would raise the efficiency of Bone Metallurgy and Corpse Crafting.

A portable brazier that could hold a flame anywhere. Fifty scrolls of the basic fire spell Fire. A hammer, chisel, and scalpel with better cutting and impact power than my old set. Buying the extra tools for Corpse Crafting and Bone Metallurgy emptied my wallet in short order.

For all that spending, once everything was shoved into the spatial bag I felt no weight at all.

"Hah. That was a satisfying purchase."

My account was scraped clean again, yet I felt not a shred of regret.

…Well, maybe one gram's worth of regret.

Rrrrrk.

Even dragged across the floor, the new carrier made only a smooth rolling sound. Was this how a driver felt after picking up a brand-new car? The price had outstripped most ordinary vehicles, so the feeling was probably similar.

A bag with spatial storage!

Half my entire fortune had evaporated, yet I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠still felt no regret.

"Feeling good."

"Where to next?"

"Somewhere you can show off your skills."

"At last this body takes the field!"

Our next destination was a park near Oksu Station.

"Looking for one supporter!"

"Anyone need a melee DPS?"

"Tank forming a party!"

A blue fissure stood in the middle of the park. Hunters thronged in front of the Challenging Realm gate.

"Why is everyone gathered here?"

"Because this is an instance gate."

Ordinary gates dropped every entrant into the same shared space. The fissure that had opened near Oksu Station—the Challenging Realm and other "instance" gates—worked differently.

"Each party is dropped into a separate space and has to clear its own objective."

"Hmm. A sort of trial, then?"

"Something like that."

"It almost seems designed for the purpose of training hunters."

"Some people interpret it that way."

Gates had appeared with the Great Cataclysm. Some claimed they were meant to judge humanity. Others said they were the next step after the Fourth Industrial Revolution, an entry into a higher domain. No one knew who was right. Fifty years had passed since the first gates, and hunters had long since become part of daily life. Complicated thoughts about why gates existed could wait.

"Understood."

A few minutes of footwork later I had secured a party.

"You said you were a summoner?"

"Yes. I can cover melee DPS-tank."

"Looks like you pulled something good. Looking forward to working with you."

Two melee DPS, one ranged DPS, one mage. No healer, but healers were the rarest of the standard hunter classes, so that was only to be expected.

One of the melee fighters spoke up.

"We're all friends—will that be a problem?"

"Not at all."

"Inside the gate, follow my lead."

"Understood."

With that the melee fighter led the way into the gate.

"At last, our first sortie."

I pretended not to hear Sir Isra's excited thoughts and pushed my foot into the blue fissure.

My vision flipped in an instant. A straight corridor of solid brick appeared before us.

"We're screwed."

"Ugh, why did we get this one?"

"Total bust."

Groans rose from every side. I must have looked curious, because the melee fighter explained.

"First time in the Challenging Realm?"

"Yes."

"There are five possible instance layouts. Corridor types are the dud gates."

"Because the rewards are bad?"

"Not that—they're just way too hard."

If you were lucky the path ran straight and you could clear the gate by walking forward. If the corridors twisted like a labyrinth, you were in for a miserable time.

"You can't smash through the walls with force."

"Why not?"

"Gate rules."

Top-tier hunters could ignore a gate's "rules" and punch holes through walls, but that hardly applied to this party.

"Even if the corridor looks simple, you still can't relax, because of…"

Clank—clank—

The scrape of armor plates echoed from the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠far end of the passage.

"…those guys."

Empty suits of armor. From the hollow depths of their helmets, red eyes ignited.

"I was hoping we wouldn't get Living Armor."

"I can't do anything."

The archer let out a pained sound. I looked at the mage. The woman whose eyes met mine heaved a deep sigh.

"I specialize in ice-wall magic. Terrible matchup against Living Armor."

The melee guys didn't look much better either. Not a single person in the party could land effective hits on Living Armor.

Fantastic.

"Let's just leave and re-enter. It'll randomize again, right?"

"Can't. This gate has a once-per-day entry limit."

We were in trouble.

"Hahaha! But you have me, my lord!"

"The enemies are metal. You sure you're fine?"

"Worry not."

When the Continent's Greatest Sword made a claim like that, I might as well trust her once.

A Resurrected rose from the darkness. Sir Isra, clad in bone armor, took her sword in hand.

"An undead? You're a necromancer?"

"A zombie's not going to cut it against those."

"Unless you have another summon…"

Nope.

Nothing like that.

Sir Isra walked forward at a leisurely stroll. The distance between her and the armor closed steadily.

"That's reckless. Physical attacks barely work on Living Armor."

"Piercing types can get through, but it's a zombie. There's no way it has anything like that."

"Even if it gets reverse-summoned we can't cover the loss—are you sure?"

I slowly shook my head.

A bone sword wasn't going to cut through a metal monster. But the Continent's Greatest Sword said she could. She must have a way to damage them from the inside.

Step—step—

Clank—clank.

The gap shrank further. When one jump would have closed the rest of the distance, Sir Isra swung her blade.

Shhk!

A cutting sound rang out. A beat later the armor toppled to the ground with a heavy crash.

"Whaaaaaat?!"

One of the hunters let out a shrill scream.