Late Afternoon in September
September's late afternoon. Ground White Area.
The 28-year-old Yoo Taejeong was a porter.
Porter. The grunt work that followed hunters around, collecting monster corpses.
There was one reason he did this job.
Money.
For day labor without any specialized skills, it paid pretty damn well.
"Uncle, there's one more over here, but I'm maxed out. Got any room?"
"Yeah, hand it over. Hey! Kim! Take this."
After passing the last skinned hide to a teammate, Yoo Taejeong eyed the massive corpse chunks stacked on his yoke.
Today's haul was no joke. Portering was grueling labor to begin with, but today promised to be even worse.
The hunting had been slower than expected, forcing them much deeper into the field than planned.
"Alright, everyone. Gather up once you're packed."
At the team leader's call, the porters—including Taejeong—started assembling.
A quick headcount followed.
"All teams from 5 to 1, full strength! Team 1, you're up first!"
At the escort's shout, the lead team moved out under hunter cover, exiting the field.
Taejeong's team and the rest followed, their figures gradually fading from view.
They hadn't gone far past the ruined city and up the mountain serving as a checkpoint bridge when sweat was already pouring off the porters like rain.
Even the relatively young Taejeong was no exception.
Ow, my shoulders.
He'd been at this for months now, long enough to adapt, but a 40kg-plus yoke was no light load for an ordinary guy like him.
At least he'd gotten the knack and built up some stamina; early on, he'd nearly fallen behind countless times.
"Tough, huh?"
He glanced back at the friendly voice from the rear.
"Huh? Uncle, you're not up front today?"
"Been taking some tonic lately."
"Tonic? That stuff actually works?"
"Dunno if it's placebo, but yeah, feels good. I'll tell you where later—give it a shot if you're interested."
"Nah, I'm good."
"Kid, what's the point of scraping by if you don't enjoy it? Food's what matters."
As they chatted idly while trudging on, Taejeong finally reached the mountainside where the trucks waited.
He loaded his yoke onto the cargo truck, wiped sweat from his brow, and scanned around.
"Why are there so few trucks?"
It was odd. Normally, all vehicles assembled before wrap-up.
But today, there were barely half the usual number.
Tilting his head, Taejeong approached team leader Kim Geuntae, who was directing the group.
"Uncle, why so few trucks? Not enough for everyone."
"Just heard myself—some scheduling screw-up. Word is, they'll drop off the other teams first, then come back. We'll go in two waves. Team leader's checking it out, so news soon. Anyway, this your last gig?"
"Yeah. Sent my sister to college, paid off the debts. Time to study up and land a real job."
"A desk job? Makes sense at your age—too young to rot here."
"This ain't bad, but who knows when the rug gets pulled."
"True. News said six dead yesterday. Sigh. Gotta save up, open a little shop..."
As they talked, the team leader returned, face flushed with anger.
"Fuck. This isn't a joke."
He looked pissed.
Kim Geuntae approached. "What now?"
"Agency double-booked transport. Told us to wait for the second wave."
Taejeong spoke up. "Second wave? What about our escort?"
"No clue. Pushed hard, but they wouldn't budge. What could go wrong? We're a ways from the hunting grounds."
Taejeong bit back a retort, knowing it was pointless.
A few others griped, but nothing changed.
They just watched the hunters leave.
Left behind: porters from Taejeong's Team 1 and another company's Team 2. Over 80 in total.
"Team leader, when're they coming?"
Taejeong asked, checking his smartphone.
"Dunno? Hour tops. At least we'll get overtime. Don't look so glum."
"Not glum—just feels like they don't give a shit. Hilarious they'd reroute our trucks."
"What can ya do? Quit and become hunters? Thought this big agency'd be different, but nah."
As they killed time chatting, a sudden scream echoed from somewhere.
"Aaaagh!"
Heads snapped around in unison.
No one had spoken, but tension hung thick.
What they saw: a corpse, head pierced by a black tentacle.
"Wh-what?!"
"M-monster!"
Panic erupted.
"Run!"
People scattered every which way.
Taejeong too.
He'd reacted instantly to the body, so he was ahead of most, Kim Geuntae beside him.
"Uncle! Faster! You'll die!"
"Go! Don't worry about me!"
"Uncle!"
"Go! I'll catch up!"
Taejeong couldn't slow, even as Kim lagged. Monster claws felt inches from his back.
Fuck.
He couldn't believe this shit.
Blamed the hunters who'd ditched them.
A handful of guards left behind could've handled these.
Furious at dying to these.
"Fuck those goddamn..."
Splat!
Something dropped from above, making him flinch and slow.
A mangled, bloody corpse.
He glanced back instinctively.
Chaos. An asura field.
"Aaaagh!"
"S-save..."
"Gaaack!"
Those running with him massacred from the rear.
Stunned briefly, then Kim Geuntae slapped his shoulder hard.
"What're you doing, idiot? Run! Wanna die?!"
The yell snapped him; he bolted again.
But moments later, something black burst from the left embankment, snatching Kim Geuntae away.
Only his lower half remained.
"U-Uncle."
Shock froze him; two other porters overtook and passed.
As he moved to follow—
Slash!
Blood sprayed right in front; the man ahead split in two.
Black monster tentacle visible.
"Uh. Uhh..."
Despair leaked from frozen Taejeong.
Lucky break—the tentacle lunged at the other guy, letting Taejeong veer right.
From then, survival instinct drove him: run, run, run.
Desperate to look back, but afraid it'd be his end. Eyes forward only.
"Hah. Hah."
Lungs burning, legs cramping. Bile rising, calves seizing.
Pain drowned by terror.
Mad dash after mad dash, he realized he'd reached the hunters' hunting spot.
Over one mountain.
Ah. Of all places.
Unavoidable in flight, but he cursed his choice.
Tiger's den, willingly entered.
Gasping, scanning, he looked skyward.
Sun's setting. What now?
Hunters had cleared it, but it was still a hunting ground. Unknown variables lurked.
No other survivors in sight.
Near-panic, stomping in place, instinct kicked in.
Hide first.
Safety paramount.
Spotted a decent building: a relatively intact villa amid ruins.
Slipped inside cautiously, searching from the second floor.
Barricaded. Door's gone here.
Old abandoned hunting ground ruin—monster traces everywhere.
But needed shelter.
Moved stealthily, praying for safety.
Soon, third floor: half-open door caught his eye.
Peeking living room—surprisingly intact. Eased in.
Please, please be empty.
Luck held: no monster signs. Furniture, even TV pristine.
Checked corners thoroughly—no threats. Back to door, locked carefully.
Sigh of relief escaped.
"Whew. Alive for now."
Secured minimally, drew all curtains in room and living room.
Collapsed on dusty sofa, clutching head in agony.
"Fuck. What now."
Shelter found, but real problem ahead.
Hunters might return soon—but search this far? Slim odds.
Bodies at entrance; they'd assume wipeout.
"Fucked. Cleared zone—no other teams coming."
Despair total.
Even if rescue hoped for, no food or water to last.
Frustrated, stood, tried sink.
No dice, predictably.
"Would be weirder if it worked."
Rifled shelves—just in case. Ten-plus-year ruin: nothing edible.
No food, no water confirmed.
Thirst, starve, or monster—pick your poison.
No water, can't last days. Entrance ten ri away. If monsters took it, next safe zone past intersection, main road. Thirty ri minimum... barefoot?
Impossible realistically.
Average walk: 5km/hour. Hurry: 6-7km.
Sprint? Maybe hour flat. He'd run 3km in 13 minutes for porter test.
But stamina wouldn't hold; unknown route meant delays.
One monster en route? Straight to hell.
Still, he knew: move while strength remained.
"Think, think."