Should I Say "Let's Do It Next Time?"
Gangnam, right in the heart of it. The Hwarang Guild building soared skyward like a dagger piercing the heavens. More people than usual were milling about nearby—associates, onlookers, all drawn by the buzz.
Ever since the guild's triumphant raid on the SS-rank dungeon Demon Dragon's Nest, interest in Hwarang had skyrocketed without end.
At the top floor, in the guild master's private office, a man lounged with a thick cigar clamped between his teeth. He swirled the wine glass in one hand. Kwon Do-gyun, master of Hwarang Guild.
"What’s Kang Mir up to right now?"
"He’s still in the private training hall underground. Hasn’t come out."
Chief Manager Kang Ji-wook bowed his head as he replied. Kwon Do-gyun’s lips twisted slightly at the report.
"Is that so?"
Usually, a greenhorn hunter would lose their head from this much hype. But the kid’s reaction had been surprisingly blasé. Come to think of it, right after emerging from the dungeon, that hunter Kang Mir had been lost in thought, brooding over something. Hell, Do-gyun had even gone out of his way to the dungeon entrance for dramatic flair, praising him personally—and the guy just bowed without a flicker of emotion.
Cheeky little shit.
His attitude grated, but for now, there was no better piece on the board to replace him.
"Anyway, how’s the data haul from this one?"
"Yes, sir. We got way more on the Black Stones than expected. Should cut the defect rate by about 15%."
"Nice. Production schedule holding steady?"
"To improve the quality of Black Stones harvested from mutant monsters, we have no choice but to capture high-rank ones alive. But we’re critically short on reliable high-rank hunters."
"Hmm. I see."
"Yes. My apologies."
"No, no. Not your fault, Chief Manager Kang."
"I’m deeply sorry."
"Heh, I said it’s fine."
Kwon Do-gyun waved it off with feigned understanding, but Kang Ji-wook kept his head bowed, sweat beading on his brow. Trusting those words at face value could mean vanishing without a trace. His predecessors—Chief Manager Park, then Yoon—had "transferred overseas" quietly. No one was dumb enough to dig deeper. They just knew.
Hwarang imported a staggering number of live monsters from dungeon raids. And yet Kang was saying they were short. Do-gyun got the implication: even with masses captured, high-rank specimens were rare.
But leniency bred complacency. Servants forgot their place and climbed. Time for the stick, as always.
He smiled softly, beckoning Kang closer.
"Pardon?"
"Come here."
"S-sorry, sir."
"Hey now, you’d think I was about to do something nasty."
"Please... mercy..."
Kwon Do-gyun eyed the trembling manager standing before him.
"Life’s gotten comfy lately, hasn’t it, Chief Manager Kang?"
"N-no, sir."
"If I raise my right hand to grab your throat, you’d flinch back on instinct, right? Then I’d stomp your right knee. You’d flop on your ass, begging for your life. And I’d press down on your right ankle—just enough to lame you a bit. Not useless, but you’d limp. Proper treatment might fix it, but if I slap on some half-assed low-rank heal? Those shattered bone fragments knit wrong, and you’re done. Crippled, leaning on a cane. Heartbreaking to imagine."
"H-hek! P-please... have mercy."
Nothing had happened yet, but Kang shuddered like he’d already been broken, forehead to the floor. He knew every word from this monster was as good as done.
Combat Foresight. The skill that made Kwon Do-gyun the apex hunter—a cheat bordering on prophecy. He’d just previewed the future through it.
And Kang trembled harder than ever, because the moment Do-gyun willed it, words became reality.
"Hmm. So, going forward, I can count on smooth Black Stone production, right, Chief Manager Kang?"
"Y-yes! Absolutely. We’ll hit the schedule, no matter what."
"Heh, no need to go that far. You’re too nice for your own good."
Do-gyun patted his shoulder lightly, drew deep on the cigar, and exhaled smoke into Kang’s face.
"Anyway, that rookie Kang Min-ho. Coma, huh?"
"Yes. Looks like he got hit with a dragon’s mental magic."
"What’s Kang Mir say? He was there."
"Claims he doesn’t know details—happened mid-fight."
"I see. Such a shame. A rising star snuffed out so soon. Right, Chief Manager Kang?"
"Of course, Chairman."
"Hey, watch it. Still just interim."
"You’ll be official Hunter Association Chairman soon enough."
"We’ll see. Now get back to work. You’re busy."
Casual words, but the smile lingered thickly. With a wave dismissing him, Kang Ji-wook bowed deeply.
"Thank you, sir."
He slipped out quietly, closing the door. Do-gyun smirked at his retreating back.
"At least he wags his tail to survive."
He drained the wine glass and gazed out the transparent window at Seoul’s nightscape, the capital of South Korea.
"Still too many vermin in this world. Need to sweep them out fast."
In the soft light, his face hardened to an icy chill.
The moment I woke from my official coma, first thing I did was loosen up in Professor Kim Tae-min’s front yard.
"Best way to check changes is to move, right?"
"Ah~ yes. So you insist on sparring the guy who barely woke from a coma, and you’re grinning like it’s Christmas?"
I grumbled at the professor, who beamed nonstop.
"Didn’t you say you needed a sparring partner with your body so transformed?"
"I meant sipping fancy tea and chatting."
"Man-to-man talk has always been done with fists. Tradition."
"Tch. Can’t argue with that."
I muttered low, stretching lightly. No point; that old fox was unbeatable in words. Fine, let’s do his "traditional" body talk.
Start light?
Controlling mana precisely to avoid fallout, I drew a single thread from the Dragon Heart.
Whoosh!
Still, a fierce gust whipped around me.
"This is insane."
I smiled softly, feeling mana surge through my body, every fiber responding. Liberation—like I could leap to the heavens with one step.
High on it, I faced Professor Kim Tae-min unfiltered.
"Here I go, light spar."
"Bring it!"
Snap.
I pushed off gently. The acceleration hit like vertigo.
Whoa?
I wasn’t the only shocked one. Professor Kim Tae-min’s wide eyes rushed closer; I veered sharply. One light punch would’ve exploded his head.
Thud, thud.
Two bounds over his head, I landed far back.
"Whew..."
Breathing out, I replayed it. Not some superhero fumbling new powers and wrecking the neighborhood. Nearly killed him "lightly." He was a bit off-guard, sure, but still too close.
Half the tempo, lighter touch.
Professor Kim Tae-min stared blankly.
"Th-that was your light try?"
Voice shaky despite the cool act.
"Hahaha, n-no way. Now I’ll go light. Light! Whew~"
"..."
Awkward wave and grin as I fine-tuned mana and breath.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Now!
Bound, adjusted tempo, felt ready—launched.
Professor Kim Tae-min, sensing the space-warping rush, met it with full thunder.
Alarms blared in his head the instant he sensed the charge. Instinct screamed full power or die. Like facing his master back then.
Prior speed defied reaction; he went all-out from the start.
Crackle!
Lightning flashed mid-air—he vanished, clashing ten meters right.
"Kuh!"
Full punch, but he took the hit.
What monster is this?
His thunder normally invaded and shredded from inside. Now? It bounced off on contact.
Shrieeek!
Air tore like claws; he hurled backward full-force.
Slice.
Clothes shredded like knife work, barely escaped.
Damn!
Plan was hand-to-hand to gauge changes. Now? Just surviving attacks.
Two more retreats; thunder surged full.
Crackle, crackle-crackle. Crackle.
Two-meter radius drowned in white lightning.
Professor Park Cheol-gyu’s eyes bulged watching.
What the—!
This wasn’t "light sparring." Should he stop it? Then he saw Kang Min-ho smiling, satisfied.
His arm hairs stood; nape prickled. Tension like facing the Fire Dragon.
What kinda monster is that kid!
I stroked my pounding chest watching Professor Kim Tae-min unleash full thunder. Thrill pure.
Wish he’d push harder, thrill me more.
Crank it up.
Faster tempo, charged the white blaze.
BOOM!!
Mana punched through the wall, slamming his gut.
"Gahk!!"
Blinding thunder evaporated in the shockwave.
Thud.
Park Cheol-gyu watched Kang Min-ho stare impassively at the fallen professor, cold sweat pouring.
Should I say "let's do it next time"?
Park Cheol-gyu, who’d been stretching for his turn moments ago, gulped hard.