Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Feint East, Strike West (2)
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Two hundred li southeast of Ulleungdo, along the sea route.
A lonely island. The birds' homeland.
An S-Rank Tower appeared there.
Dokdo.
"Ah, damn it. Of all places, Dokdo?"
When the tower appeared on Dokdo, countless people groaned at the location.
"This is gonna make the Japanese kids throw a fit, claiming they'll raid it and take Dokdo for themselves, right?"
There wasn't any internationally set standard, but there was an unspoken global rule for A-Rank towers and above.
If a country couldn't handle a specific tower on its own soil, it had to seek help from another nation.
And since raiding a tower clearly meant risking your life, the host country had to provide clear compensation to the assisting nation or hunters.
Someone online had put it as a meme.
"A tower's like a snake that shows up in your house."
If a snake appeared in a Korean home, all hundred out of a hundred would call 119.
But in places like America or Australia, if you couldn't handle it yourself, you'd call a snake removal specialist instead of the fire department—it's faster.
The specialist shows up with a sack and tongs, and bags the snake in under five minutes.
Some people wonder.
How can they charge 150,000 or 300,000 won for just five minutes of work?
But things change between walking into and out of the bathroom.
Towers are the same.
When a tower appears, you pray for even a neighbor country's hunter to come wipe it out. But once it's gone, and talk of paying them hundreds of millions in taxes comes up, everyone starts grumbling.
"Hmm... is it that bad?"
There are two reasons these stories circulate.
One. Cleared towers never reappear.
A snake handler could just release it back in your house saying "I'll restore it to original condition" and leave, but once a tower spawns and is cleared, it never comes back to that spot.
It's awkward to name names, but there was that time a hunter guild that cleared an A-Rank tower in Zhangjiajie got stiffed—no pay, just kicked out.
With stuff like that happening all too often, hunters formed the "International Hunter Association," a supranational group to stand against nations. Countries responded by mobilizing media and public opinion to guilt their own hunters into patriotism.
Someone might say.
Hunters risk their lives raiding towers—how can you not pay up?
They deserve a whole building in the capital, at least.
"Any proof they actually suffered inside?"
The second reason—and the real problem.
Proof impossible.
"We can't see what's happening inside the tower anyway. How do we know if they breezed through or barely scraped by?"
"They should've at least brought back footage! Oh, the camera memory died during the raid? How convenient! A-Rank tower, my ass—did they just snipe a sleeping boss from afar and call it done? One shot and they want full payout?"
No signals get through inside towers.
No real-time intel, so you're stuck relying on the black-box camera footage the hunters bring out themselves.
In this environment, hunters aiming to raid always try to sign contracts beforehand—with the country, region, or company, whoever.
They stream the contract signing live, or log every day from Day 1 to Day 30 of the raid, broadcasting proof of their fights to the world.
That's the standard in the hunter industry now—grueling work for massive payouts.
Between nations, Dokdo's tower is the prime example.
"Kiharu. What do you think about this?"
"The goddess has no ties to any nation, but as Summoner Master's familiar Kiharu, here's what I'd say, nyang."
"What?"
"Dokdo's Korean soil?"
"Spot on."
It's not just because Kiharu's from a Korean game company.
History proves it, and the S-Rank Tower on Dokdo itself is proof that Dokdo belongs to Korea.
"Kiharu. Think Japan said it? 'Dokdo's ours, so we'll raid it ourselves.'"
"They did. Not just Japan—countries worldwide spark territorial disputes over their towers."
Kiharu fiddled with my smartphone, pulling up info from a site.
"On territorial disputes from towers. Someone already wrote a paper on it, nyang."
"Yeah. It's turned into a mess. Whichever country clears the S-Rank Tower on Dokdo claims ownership."
Your country's tower is your responsibility.
Even though towers are a crisis facing all humanity, nations are closing ranks inward while pushing territorial expansion outward.
"We'll clear your tower, hand over Dokdo. Not even a nursery rhyme."
"But Partner, no official word from Japan about dispatching hunters?"
"Exactly why Dokdo's Korean soil. It's an S-Rank Tower—they've never officially sent hunters once."
"Ah, got it. If it were A-Rank or lower, it'd be dicey. They'd speedrun it and strong-arm, 'We cleared it, so it's ours now.'"
"Right."
Hunter capitalism era.
In international society, the hunters who raid towers now dictate a nation's defense and power.
But some countries are infamous for treating their hunters like trash.
Guilting them with patriotism.
Reminding them of civic duty.
Mobilizing family, friends, and contacts back home to persuade them.
"Let's overcome national hardship together" to turn them into patriots.
Government mouthpiece media brands them "non-citizens" if they won't raid, or "selfish egoists ignoring public peace" if they complain.
And if they try defecting elsewhere? Reporters and cyber mobs shove cameras in their faces—no police protection—while the foreign ministry spreads defection rumors and calls them traitors.
Where in the world does that happen?
Not like North or South Joseon or anything.
If such a country exists, it's because of towers and hunters. In a normal world without them, it wouldn't.
...Probably.
Anyway.
"Kiharu. The Korean government's mobilizing three S-Rank Hunters—minus one for capital defense—and thirteen A-Ranks to raid the tower, right?"
"Thirteen? News said thirty-one last time?"
"Yeah, thirteen. Hard to criticize. Lives on the line."
No business faulting A-Ranks for sitting it out.
Applaud their courage for challenging an S-Rank and wish them safe returns.
"Communities say the country's forcing them. True, nyang?"
"Nah, you think grown adults get dragged to a death trap just 'cause the nation says so? Look—news has interviews: 'Their chosen path.'"
Whatever.
Whether they caved to pressure from the state or top hunters, or got inspired by Blue Lightning volunteering as the avoidance tank to form a new raid party.
"We'll cheer them on, then raid Dokdo ourselves. Perfect timing—appointment's here."
Late afternoon.
Just me and Kiharu at home.
Elaine and Dry aren't here.
They moved out separately ahead of time.
Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong.
The doorbell rings three times.
Last one lags a bit. I shut down the computer and rig my arm like it's in a cast.
Sarahk.
Kiharu climbs onto my arm.
Not her SD character form—full cat mode, curling into my arms.
"Ready, nyang? I won't say much from here on, nyang."
"Of course."
"One more thing. If they succeed on Jeju..."
"Then we raid Dokdo and head straight to America."
Makes leaving easier.
"Let's go, Kiharu."
Creeeak.
I fling the door open.
Outside waits a blond, blue-eyed suit who looks out of place in this officetel.
"Long time no see, Mister."
"Good to see you, Patrick. Korean?"
"Learned in a hurry. Quickly. My apologies."
The president's aide—already acquainted—greets me in a suit.
"But... fancy cat?"
"Just a cat."
Nya-ang.
Kiharu yawns wide and buries her head deeper in my arms.
If needed, she transforms to support me; any wounds, she heals me.
That's why I'm rolling with Kiharu, not Elaine or Dry.
They're off on their own missions elsewhere.
"Patrick. Any tails or tails on us?"
"I handled it. Government agencies probably noticed."
President's aide seeking someone.
I look Korean enough, so suspicions range from defector to VIP at most.
"But rest easy. President issued an executive order to avoid Korean suspicions."
"Executive order?"
"Yes—an emergency summons."
Patrick scans around, eyes flicking to my hair.
"All black heads assemble. President's borrowing this regime's specialty."
"Uh... you mean, like, 'assembly'?"
"Yes. Muster."
Patrick thumbs up.
"U.S. nationals—Awakeners—in Korea: report to the U.S. within three days for new federal hunter license certification and tower raid support."
"...Land of the free does that?"
"Fine. Results prove everything. They've learned: procedure issues? Sudden moves? Crazy something?"
Patrick thumbs up again.
"When President Luigi does something crazy, it's all for [Master]."
"[Master]..."
I chuckle dryly at my empty left hand, then point ahead for Patrick.
"Let's go. To the warship. Oh, I mentioned a warship, but—"
"No issue. Japan might complain a bit."
"Japan?"
"Yes."
Patrick leads me downstairs, calm as ever.
"One warship from the Okinawa U.S. base has departed."
"...Okinawa?"
"Yes. No worries."
Patrick shrugs like it's nothing.
"Just sudden training. Haha."
"......"
"Master wants to board there? Of course we provide top support. Yes. This is America's hospitality. Master."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Meanwhile, in Okinawa.
"...What?"
Something caught the eye of a military geek filming the Okinawa U.S. base.
"...Why's the nuclear-powered carrier deployed for the S-Rank Tower suddenly moving?"