Gee, You Really Can't Believe It
HCU. The Hunter Suppression Unit—a team of hunters dispatched to rifts and tasked with capturing troublesome hunters. A special forces unit directly under the Hunter Association, operating in tandem with the government.
Hong Ji-hwa, the commander of HCU, was an unofficial S-rank hunter whose special skill was Hellfire. Her head throbbed unbearably. Normally, she would've flipped the table on everyone, but she couldn't do that here. It was all because of the man sitting arrogantly in front of her, legs crossed.
This guy who had emerged from an unfamiliar rift—human or monster, she couldn't tell. He claimed to be a citizen of South Korea, but his appearance didn't look the least bit earthly... And he had the power to drop S-rank hunters to their knees in an instant. On top of that, he insisted the rift he'd come from was one he'd created himself—a claim that was somehow both credible and absurd.
A being that creates rifts? If word of this got out, it'd be front-page news worldwide.
"...Hoo."
Hong Ji-hwa took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She just couldn't wrap her head around what he was thinking. If he were an ordinary hunter, she'd have the final say, but Cheon Ji-hoo was no ordinary hunter. He was an irregular among irregulars, drawing the close attention of nearly every nation on Earth. Handing him a job would likely require approval from higher up the chain.
He said he'd prove it, but who cared? A guy who could kneel every S-rank with a flick of his wrist.
He said he needs money, so just pay him? Out of pocket?
She rubbed her dry face, dragging her hands down it repeatedly before finally speaking.
"How much money do you need, exactly?"
"As much as possible?"
"Something more specific..."
"Enough to buy the penthouse where my little sister lives—in cash, with plenty left over."
"Joo-hwan, how much is that?"
"Around 2.3 billion at current market price..."
Damn, that's ridiculously expensive. Hong Ji-hwa sighed again. She could cover it out of pocket, but... 2.3 billion was a bit much. She'd be broke for a while. So, she decided to kick it up the ladder.
"Hold on a sec. Let me make a call. This is above my pay grade."
"Sure. Go ahead."
Hong Ji-hwa immediately pulled out her phone and dialed the Hunter Association Chairman's hotline—a line reserved for emergencies. The response came quickly.
"Chairman, it's Hong Ji-hwa."
-What's the issue, Commander Hong? Urgent enough for the hotline?
The deep, resonant voice of a middle-aged man came through the phone.
"Yes. It's about that returner... He's demanding payment."
"Let's get this straight. I asked for a job, not money."
"Right. He's asking for work. From us."
-...What the hell does that mean?
"Exactly what I said. He needs money... It's beyond my authority, so I figured I'd loop you in."
There was a long silence on the other end.
-How much?
"Roughly 3 billion."
-What for?
"Buying a house, apparently."
-...So he's asking for work for that. Does he want to join the Association?
Hong Ji-hwa glanced at Cheon Ji-hoo, who shook his head.
"Think of it as outsourcing."
No interest in wearing the Association's collar.
Hong Ji-hwa relayed it. "That's what he says."
-Hah...
The Hunter Association Chairman let out a sigh.
-Why not just hunt? Hunters make bank.
Hong Ji-hwa looked at Cheon Ji-hoo again. It was common knowledge that hunters raked in cash. S-ranks pulled in hundreds of billions a year. Rifts were a threat to humanity—raiding them meant hazard pay, and monster byproducts fetched top dollar. Plus, the cores inside rifts were powerful artifacts; high-grade ones went for tens of billions as power sources.
Someone like Cheon Ji-hoo would make way more as a hunter.
"He wants to live peacefully. Doesn't like the public exposure."
"That's what he says, Chairman."
Famous hunters had celebrity-level fame. Going active would mean all his business going public, which was a hassle. Better to take quiet government gigs and earn on the down-low.
-...Hold on. I'll call you back.
The call ended. Hong Ji-hwa pocketed her phone and gave Cheon Ji-hoo an awkward look.
"...How about some tea?"
"Coffee. Something sweet."
"Joo-hwan, go grab some coffee. I'll have an iced Americano."
"Got it!"
Lee Joo-hwan bolted out the door. He hated this atmosphere with a passion.
Hong Ji-hwa clamped her mouth shut and bowed her head. This time, Cheon Ji-hoo spoke up. Something he'd been wondering about.
"Those horns—are they demonic?"
"...No. Side effect of my skill."
A remark full of prejudice yet free of it. Her skill, Hellfire, summoned flames from hell, but awakening had bizarrely sprouted horns. They wouldn't cut off or vanish.
Cheon Ji-hoo stroked his chin, eyeing them with interest.
"Hmm. Fascinating."
"What's so fascinating about them?"
Hong Ji-hwa twitched an eyebrow as she asked. He tapped his forehead.
"Horns growing on a human means demonic energy has mixed with the soul. At least in the other world I was in."
"So, can you remove them?"
"Probably with a high priest's blessing to purify the soul's demonic taint, or a master soul mage extracting just the demonic energy."
Hong Ji-hwa's eyes widened at his explanation. She could get rid of these horns? She'd suffered so much because of them. She loved burying her face in pillows to sleep, but the horns made it impossible. And it wasn't just that—she couldn't go out in public. Hats didn't fit, hoods didn't hide them. All the stares were hers to endure.
"Haa."
But priests and soul mages? No such thing on Earth. She couldn't exactly jet off to the Vatican for a papal blessing.
Reading her reaction, Cheon Ji-hoo added, "Extracting the demonic energy would probably wipe out your skill too."
"Then... guess I'll live with it. No helping it."
Hong Ji-hwa gave up on removal and slumped. Looked like this was her life forever. Unless she drilled holes in her bed and pillows, no face-down sleeping for her.
Moments later, as Lee Joo-hwan returned with the coffee, Hong Ji-hwa's phone buzzed. A call from the Hunter Association. She switched it to speaker and set it on the table.
-Sorry, emergency meeting held me up.
"What’s the verdict?"
-We've allocated a special budget. 3 billion for closing six rifts—D to A-grade mix. We'll buy that apartment you want with no issues, and wire the difference. Sound good?
Even asked if it sounded good, Cheon Ji-hoo couldn't answer. No clue if it was a rip-off or a bargain. So he just threw out a number.
"5 billion."
-.....
Hong Ji-hwa stared at him like he was insane. But Cheon Ji-hoo, seasoned from his otherworldly trials, knew these deals often started with lowballing.
The chairman on the line was crunching numbers. Cost of raiding those six rifts with a standard team versus solo by Cheon Ji-hoo. Honestly, a loss. Even factoring cores and byproducts, maybe 1.5 billion. But gauging his abilities and temperament for that price... could be worth it.
-Fine. 5 billion. But cores and byproducts go to us.
"Split 'em."
-You sure know how to squeeze every last drop, Mr. Cheon.
"Then I'll just take one A-rank core."
-Haa... Deal. We'll fax the contract... Commander Hong, you're on point.
"Understood, Chairman. Joo-hwan, grab the fax."
"Got it!"
Lee Joo-hwan dashed off again.
-Anyway, we'd love to meet face-to-face sometime, Mr. Cheon.
"Not really."
-...Call ended.
A fair deal sealed, Cheon Ji-hoo smiled faintly. Soon, Lee Joo-hwan brought the faxed contract. Cheon Ji-hoo reviewed it meticulously and signed. A historic contract was born.
Sis, bro's buying the house.
* * *
Contract signed, Cheon Ji-hoo headed straight for his first rift. They'd advance the payment for the apartment, so he'd show them what he could do.
They drove to a D-grade rift near Bukhansan.
"Why are you tagging along?"
"Beats me..."
Hong Ji-hwa scratched the back of her head at his question. Someone had to verify core removal and rift closure, and up to A-grade, only she could handle it freely. Veteran enough to react in a crisis.
"We're here."
"Hm."
Cheon Ji-hoo stepped out and eyed the rift. Association staff were already there, pre-checking it.
"Welcome. Hunter ID, please."
"Hunter ID?"
Cheon Ji-hoo raised an eyebrow. Hong Ji-hwa stepped forward, flashing her top HCU agent badge.
"Special authorization."
"Apologies. Now, per procedure, rift briefing."
The staffer bowed politely and began explaining the D-grade rift.
"Bukhansan D-43 is a deep cave type. About 600m to the core at the deepest point. Monsters are undead—zombies and skeleton soldiers mainly. No light sources, so visibility's limited. Bring illumination."
"Got it."
"Zombies and skeletons mean byproducts have no value."
"Hm."
Cheon Ji-hoo realized why the Association picked this rift. A so-called "trash rift." Low-value drops, nasty difficulty. Dark cave, gross undead mobs. One slip could be fatal—no profit for hunters risking their lives.
The others are probably similar.
"You may enter."
He nodded and stepped into the bluish rift with Hong Ji-hwa. Vision warped. A dim, foul-smelling, damp cave unfolded before them.
Hong Ji-hwa followed, conjuring a small flame to light the way.
"How long to clear?"
"...Three minutes."
She twitched at his answer—hands in jeans pockets, no gear—but then gaped at the sight.
Cheon Ji-hoo raised both hands. Rotating light wheels appeared above them—two magic circles. The green one on the right emitted mana sonar pulses to map terrain and monsters: Detection. The blue left one targeted detected foes: Target Lock.
Sonar bounced back, mapping everything instantly. Mana spread again, marking every monster's head with a glowing blue circle.
Magic was efficiency. Spamming meteors didn't make you a great mage. And Archmage of Dawn and Descent Cheon Ji-hoo was obsessed with efficiency above all.
"Magic Bullet."
Targets locked, he twirled his index finger. Dozens of magic projectiles materialized nearby, arcing into the depths.
Sounds echoed from the cave—skeletons shattering, zombies' death rattles. The clamor of the undead dying (again) filled the air.
Cheon Ji-hoo, hands still in pockets, said, "Done. Let's grab the core."