You Need a Good Beating
Since the attempted assassination of the two presidents.
The French delegation had suspended its entire schedule and left Korea.
It was a summit already in its final stretch anyway, and with the IAE involved, the possibility of further terror attacks was more than real. There had been some criticism at home—that wrapping things up early instead of seeing every item through meant letting the terrorists dictate terms—but from the standpoint of the people responsible for guarding a head of state, it was an eminently reasonable call.
And yet, surprisingly, French public opinion didn't blame Korea at all.
In a world overflowing with ability users of every stripe, blocking every attack at the source was next to impossible. In the end, close-protection was what mattered most—and it had been announced that a hunter from the Korean side was the one who saved the French president at the last moment.
Perhaps because of that, the louder sentiment was actually criticism of their own security detail for being breached so pathetically. Britain and the neighboring countries, in particular, had seized on the incident as an excuse for every manner of mockery. This was an era when hunter strength had become a nation's pride—there was no more tempting material for ridicule than the humiliation of a presidential security detail. Granted, the guards were hardly at fault, given that what had infiltrated the scene wasn't an ordinary terrorist but a rampaging national-level power. Unfair as it was for them, that changed nothing.
In any case, Europe had long suffered bitterly at the hands of violent extremist cells, so the incident drew considerable attention there too. Still, it had ended as nothing more than an attempt, and matters were winding down without escalating further. The media would no doubt carry on loudly about it for a while, but at the working level, there was nothing left for the two countries to hash out.
Except that just as things were settling down, an unannounced French official came calling.
SLAM!
The French national strategic-tier hunter, Amir, shot to his feet, his face twisted in a scowl. Across from him, Baek Ji-soo let out a long sigh and shook her head.
"What is it this time?"
"You're asking because you don't know? Why am I being denied access to the investigation materials?"
"Everything that can be made public already has been. The working level finished its discussions—we're simply refusing additional requests."
"We're not outsiders—we're the injured party! The ones who were attacked and nearly assassinated—!"
"You're 'outsiders' all the same."
Baek Ji-soo replied flatly. Amir gritted his teeth.
"If you were going to hide behind protocol, you should have prevented this whole mess in the first place. Korea's National Security Bureau has really let itself go—terrorists running wild in your own backyard and you didn't even notice!"
"Take that up with your own protective service. Your VIP is the one we pulled out of the fire, remember? Ah—actually, that's probably it. You're lashing out over that bruised pride of yours."
"We agreed to keep things cordial, and this is how you respond? You think we'll just sit still?"
"And if you don't?"
She stared at Amir with eyes cold as ice. He flinched for an instant, then clenched his fists tight. Even within France—one of the world's great hunter powers—Amir counted among its handful of heavyweight hunters, but he couldn't push any harder against this woman. And not simply because she was a foreign national.
Any ordinary country, rather than quibbling over refined notions like diplomatic propriety, would have taken what it wanted even if it meant flipping the table entirely. International relations had always been cold-blooded, but in this day and age they were more nakedly brutal than ever.
Which made the reason Amir was swallowing his temper and playing nice equally simple.
"This isn't twenty or thirty years ago. If you've got complaints, go round up every hunter in Europe and come back."
"...!"
National power—or, more precisely, the combined strength of the hunters a nation possessed—now carried staggering weight in today's international order, forged through chaos and governed by the law of the jungle. And aside from the United States, no country on earth could match Korea's hunter strength nation-for-nation.
In truth, that was only natural. Korea had survived on the front line bordering China; its hunters had no choice but to excel. Had they not, the colossal monster waves pouring out of China would have swept the peninsula away long ago. If its hunter forces had been even slightly weaker, southern Korea would by now be an uninhabited dead zone with nothing left to mark it had ever existed.
"Hey... you people. You're hiding something back there, aren't you? There's no need to react this harshly—unless, of course, you're being oversensitive about something."
Amir's mouth twisted.
"That 'anonymous agent from your side' who supposedly barged in mid-incident—that's a lie."
The protective service guarding the French president was hardly a crowd of random thugs thrown together. Yet even those guards had been swept aside. No ordinary agency hunter could have slipped in and rescued the president—without a doubt, whoever it was had to be at least a 12th Grade national strategic-tier hunter.
"Who is it? What are you people hiding?"
Amir demanded, eyes wide and glaring. Baek Ji-soo merely snorted.
"Well, I won't claim there's nothing being kept quiet. But even if you found out who it was, it wouldn't mean a thing to you."
"That's for me to decide. I intend to meet this person, so stop stalling and—"
"Sorry, but a greenhorn like you isn't even qualified for an introduction. The only reason you're getting a one-on-one meeting at all is because it's me sitting here."
"What on earth is that supposed to—"
Amir's scowl deepened. The Baek Ji-soo facing him now was one of the most powerful figures among Korea's hunters. Yet her words made it sound as though there were hunters standing above even her.
"Take those files there and go home quietly. Or better yet, bring your Saintess herself."
Without so much as another glance at him, Baek Ji-soo waved him off. Amir, grinding his teeth, kicked the door open and stormed out.
"Damn it! Damn it all!"
Choking down his fury, he climbed into the waiting car and immediately pulled out his phone to report home. Korea's agencies were being uncooperative, he conveyed—he wanted to move on them at once. His country was hardly of a stature to be slighted like this anywhere in the world, and this affair involved national pride itself.
But the answer that came back was utterly unexpected.
"Denied. Return at once."
"Wh—what? You're telling me to let this slide?"
"I believe I know who this 'anonymous agent' is. So don't get any foolish ideas. Come home."
The expression on Amir's face, phone still in hand, crumpled. Even she—the strongest hunter in France, no, in all of Europe—knew of this person? But once she had made her position unmistakably clear, he had no choice but to nod along obediently.
"...Understood. I'll return shortly and pay my respects."
He hung up wearing a face like he'd been forced to swallow dung. For the Saintess to speak so firmly was entirely outside his expectations.
The man at the wheel glanced back at him. "What will you do?"
"I'm pursuing this. I can't let it end like this."
Riiip!
He tore the documents apart and flung them carelessly aside. His nation's dignity was at stake—and so was his own pride. Acting so freely at home would have been difficult, but in a faraway foreign land, it was enough simply not to get caught. And so Amir resolved to do what he had always done abroad.
"Men are so oddly good at this boring pastime."
Yoon Seol-ha murmured, staring blankly out over the reservoir. Sitting beside her with a fishing rod in hand, Oh Hyeon-seong let out a thoughtful hum and nodded.
"Fair enough. You were the one that man put through the wringer more than anyone."
"I've tried sharing his hobby, but it's not easy. Is staring at still water really that fascinating?"
"Don't ask me..."
Oh Hyeon-seong shrugged. Fishing had its pleasures, sure, but he wasn't hopelessly addicted to it the way Choi Jeong-il was. He was out here right now for tonight's dinner—for him, it was mostly about putting food on the table.
That said, there were times he genuinely wanted to fish in peace. He'd felt it the first time he found this place: the reservoir had a certain quiet charm, and spending the hours casting a line in a spot like this settled the heart. Changyeong-ri was already a peaceful village far removed from the bustle of the world, but this space felt something more—an entirely separate pocket of stillness. The perfect place to savor silence in the lap of nature.
Yaaawn.
Of course, for Yoon Seol-ha, who'd spent the whole time standing around watching, it had been an unbearably dull stretch of time.
"Senior, I'll head down ahead of you, then."
"Go on. I'll be along soon—get some rest."
Yoon Seol-ha left the reservoir first, making her way home alone across the back mountain, where no proper trail existed. It was exactly the kind of place to get lost in, but for her, a path walked once could never be forgotten. As a former Special Task Force operative, her mind recorded terrain instinctively. There was one famously hopeless navigator back in the unit, but he was an exceptional case—a freak of nature, really.
Hm?
But then—Yoon Seol-ha froze where she stood.
The wild boar they said was around here? No... that's not it.
A strong, unnatural wrongness pressed in from all around. Sensing that something was off, she made to leave at once—but the instant she moved to step forward, her skull rang like a struck bell.
"Ugh...?!"
Clutching her throbbing head, she crumpled to the ground. And standing before her now was a man wearing an expression of lofty contempt—Amir.
"You noticed me before anyone else. You've got a fine sense for this."
"Who... are you?"
"That's my line. Your face is one I've never seen, and for an unregistered hunter, your presence is far too heavy. One of the ones the Koreans are hiding? Or one of the terrorists? No—maybe you're both."
Yoon Seol-ha drew a dagger from behind her waist. But Amir reached out and simply closed his hand—and at the same moment, she collapsed in a heap.
"D-damn it..."
The arm braced against the earth trembled uncontrollably. This wasn't physical damage—it was a sudden, ambush-style mental assault. With a single gesture from Amir, everything inside her head had tangled into hopeless knots.
"Save it. That won't work. I've already taken control of the space around us. You look to be around 12th Grade yourself, but once I've entrenched a position like this, opposing me is theoretically impossible. And it seems you have no resistance to mental attacks, either."
A cruel smile curved Amir's lips. A powerful mind-controller, he gave his fingers a light snap—and her vision swam, her breath catching in her throat.
"Your willpower is pitifully thin for your specs. Shallow field experience, no systematic training—I'd say terrorist is the reasonable read."
"How did you... find this place..."
"You thought you'd erased every trace, didn't you? But I brought something back from home. For occasions exactly like this."
Amir strode closer and lifted his foot. He intended to wipe the mud from his shoe sole on the head of the woman lying at his feet. That was where he properly placed hunters of other nations—beneath his heel.
But the moment his boot came down to crush her—
CRACK!
Amir's body went hurtling backward. For one blinding instant, he felt as though every organ in his torso had been wrung out of alignment, and he rolled across the dirt. Covered head to toe in mud, he sprang up, teeth grinding.
"Who the hell are you?!"
Oh Hyeon-seong looked down at Yoon Seol-ha, lying there in a cold sweat and twitching, then turned his eyes—chilled to the bone—on Amir. A faint killing intent was seeping out of him. Not explosive, but utterly suppressed, compressed down to a razor's edge—and that sinister pressure made Amir's face contort.
That one's a hunter too... but he's inside my domain. How is he standing there without a scratch on him?
Oh Hyeon-seong strode closer, weaponless. At the sight of him, Amir flinched despite himself and took a step back—then, furious that he'd felt fear even for a heartbeat, he clamped his hand down hard on the man in front of him.
CRUNCH!
Astonishingly, Oh Hyeon-seong didn't so much as twitch.
My—my mental interference isn't working?
This wasn't mere resistance. He was taking the full force of the ability head-on, and it simply wasn't landing at all. In all the years since Amir had become a hunter, nothing like this had ever happened.
"Th-that's impossible! That's theoretically—"
POW!
A fist driven squarely into the center of his face. Amir took the full-force knuckle sandwich, went rolling across the ground, and blood came streaming from his flattened nose.
"Let me say this up front—I don't speak French."
Oh Hyeon-seong had closed the distance before he knew it, and now stood looking down at him. You come to Korea, you speak Korean.
It was high time he taught this foreign stranger some basic manners.