The Popper Observer
In the past, gates were objects of terror for humanity.
A gate whose interior could not be seen even an inch ahead, paired with destructive monsters. If not for the survival issues like gate backflow or the life-risking value of items and mana stones, the profession of Hunter would never have emerged in this world.
The fear of gates that persisted until the mid-20th century was completely overturned by the appearance of a single individual.
The great mage Jamal Popper.
The emergence of the Popper Observer, which tracks coordinates and surveys the labyrinth within the gate.
From that day forward, humanity began its conquest of the gates.
The Guild War League was the very symbol of that conquest.
— From GM’s Setting Collection
Twinkle. Twinkle.
Lee Shin’s eyes glittered with excitement.
“This is insane…!!”
Seventy-five centimeters in circumference. A flawless, radiant glass orb—this was the genesis of the entire GM storyline and the very foundation of the Guild War League…!!
“The Popper Observer!!”
To think he would see in the flesh what he had only ever seen in illustrations!
Overwhelmed by surging emotion, his whole body trembled, his heart pounding wildly.
The female PD let out a soft laugh at the unfamiliar sight.
“Yes, that’s correct. It’s the latest-model Popper Observer we just imported.”
“Damn it, latest model! What a thrilling ring that phrase has!”
“Hehe. The resolution has been upgraded, and we now have twelve cameras. With more screens available to observe the gate’s interior, we should be able to capture even better footage, right?”
“Oh, dear god…”
It was the long-awaited day of the raid. The strike team had set out at dawn for adaptation training, and Lee Shin—who wasn’t even scheduled to be there—showed up, handed out warm coffee, and wished everyone luck.
His gentle demeanor was so different from the cold evaluation he had given them before that the raid members wondered if this was even the same person.
However.
Chae Dong-ha, watching Lee Shin’s loosened expression with chilled eyes, knew the truth.
‘There’s no way that man would nurture such warm and fuzzy feelings.’
Concern for the raid team? As if something like that existed.
The reason Lee Shin had dragged himself out here at the crack of dawn was obvious.
It was because of that Popper Observer he was staring at with the eyes of a man in love.
‘What did he say again? That not seeing this would disqualify him as a veteran or something.’
He had thrown a tantrum, flopping on the ground and wailing like a child begging for a new toy. Chae Dong-ha had come dangerously close to searching for the nearest psychiatric hospital.
Whether aware of Chae Dong-ha’s inner turmoil or not, Lee Shin continued orbiting the observer in a state of pure excitement.
“What’s this line for? And that mana stone over there? Where does the screen output come from? Do you edit footage here too?”
“Hehe, one question at a time, please. This line connects the observer to the equipment. Every device is linked like this.”
“Oh…!”
“The mana stone I mentioned earlier is required for the magic circle. Ah! Please don’t touch it. The arrangement is already complete. It must stay exactly like this. It draws mana from here and establishes a connection to the gate through the observer.”
“Ooh…!!”
“Once the connection is complete, you can observe the gate’s interior on this monitor screen right here. Screen adjustment? Of course it’s possible. See this stick? Just use that.”
“Ooooh!!”
His explosive reactions to every single word from the PD.
What is this? It’s actually kind of cute…
“Would you like to take a look?”
“Did I ever tell you I love you…?”
“Hehe. Follow me.”
For a dawn shoot—especially one involving the notoriously delicate task of gate broadcasting—her kindness was highly unusual. But Lee Shin was raising his hand and shouting “Me! Me!” like an elementary schooler dying to present, and it was so adorable that she genuinely wanted to grant his wish. The timing was perfect anyway.
Clap, clap. The PD clapped her hands to gather the crew.
“All right, everyone. Let’s get started.”
Cleanly, without mistakes. Everyone to your positions!
At her single command, the broadcasting team moved like a well-oiled machine.
“Mana stone capacity check.”
“Confirmed!”
“Spare mana stones?”
“Confirmed!”
“Video transmitter and audio system?”
“Confirmed, sunbae.”
“Final check on the pre-arrangement.”
“Confirmed!”
“Good.”
The PD placed her hand on the lever, then glanced sideways at the burning gaze she felt on her skin.
She gave a small smile to Lee Shin, who was fidgeting in place, eyes sparkling, feet tapping with anticipation.
Then she pulled.
The lever!
Beeeeep——!!
At the same time, the erected mana stones emitted light in unison.
A milky-white radiance swept away the darkness of the dawn forest.
The light intensified as it traveled from the center outward, then was drawn into the converter. Two streams became four, the light splitting into countless branches that spread in every direction before condensing even more densely.
It drew a circle. Then a star. Then characters.
In the blink of an eye, a single pattern was completed.
“It’s the magic circle from the loading screen!!”
Lee Shin cried out, hands clamped over his mouth.
He was right. Just as he said, it was the very magic circle that appeared in the loading screen during GM’s raid sequences. Its official name was the Popper Observation Array.
It was the core system for gate observation.
Therefore, the final destination of the completed array was right there.
A blue, oval-shaped curtain of mana floating above the ground. It was the Gate itself!
Uuuuung——!!
The moment the extended mana touched the gate, the once-still surface began to ripple.
Concentric circles formed as if a sudden shower had fallen on a calm lake. The gate churned and splashed.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the fluctuating gate stabilized.
Observation complete.
More than ten monitor screens lit up simultaneously.
“PD, video is live.”
“One, two, three… twelve. All angles secured without error~!”
“Team 1, secure full shots. Team 2, focus on combat footage. Team 3, get close-ups of the key members. You all know the drill, right?”
“Yeah, but PD…”
“What? What’s wrong?”
It was then.
The junior AD from Team 2, responsible for combat shots, tilted his head in confusion.
“They… appear to already be fighting. Right now.”
“??!!”
Already?! How long had it even been since they entered?!
The shocked broadcasting team swarmed around Team 2’s monitor. The scene that greeted them:
A village with smoke rising from it. An unpleasant horde of green-skinned dwarves—goblins.
Rag-wearing goblins were charging toward the raid team, crude weapons raised high.
And the Mir Guild raid team was rushing straight at that goblin horde.
“Our old man looks pretty good on camera.”
“……?!”
“……?!”
“Anyone want popcorn?”
Lee Shin had slyly claimed a seat at some point. He was staring intently at the screen while tearing open a bag of popcorn no one knew he had brought.
It’s a live hunt, not edited footage. There’s no way I’m missing this.
Watching the raid team spread out across the screen, Lee Shin crunched down on his popcorn.
Goblins are small.
Goblins are simple.
Goblins are weak.
That was the common preconception about the weakest monster known to the public. And because of it, many people misunderstood.
Just how cunning and cruel those little creatures truly were.
Boom—! Boom—!!
“…Those sons of bitches, using their own kind as bombs…!”
“You idiot! It’s poison mist! Shut your mouth!”
Goblins that had suddenly flown in exploded in mid-air.
The team froze once at the sheer ruthlessness of using their kin as living bombs without hesitation. They panicked a second time when they realized the ear-splitting explosions were releasing poison mist.
Steps tangled. Shields wavered.
A momentary crack appeared in the once-impenetrable tanker line. Their comrades rushed to plug the gap, but—
It was already too late.
The goblins relentlessly poured through the opening created by their sacrificed brethren.
“Damn it!! Are you kidding me?!”
“S-sorry!”
“Shut up and hold the line!!”
They swung maces at the heads of goblins desperately squeezing through. Swords flashed, severing necks. Waists were sliced in two.
But even so.
The goblins did not stop.
There was no comparison in individual combat strength. A head-on fight against a solidly defended raid team would result in total annihilation. To the goblins, this tiny gap was their only path to victory.
They threw their entire being into the assault.
Only then did the goblins’ true advantage reveal itself.
Numbers.
Even if their heads exploded, even if their waists were severed, they kept pouring in without end.
They ground up their own kin to build a wall of corpses.
By the time the raid team regained their senses—
Thud!
A rusty dagger buried itself in someone’s side.
Looking down at the burning pain, they saw a goblin cackling “kikik” with eyes gleaming with madness.
The formation had already collapsed.
Goblins are small. So people overlook their speed.
Goblins are simple. So people ignore their persistence.
Goblins are weak. So people miss their ruthlessness.
This was the result.
The collapse of their defense. The isolation of the first-line tankers.
The second-line dealers rushed in desperately, but instead of helping, they tangled with the goblins and made the formation even more chaotic.
Eventually they even allowed goblins to invade the third line—the very rear that was supposed to be the safest. The battlefield had turned the raid team into drifters swept away by a goblin wave.
At this point, even victory wouldn’t feel like victory.
They had dismissed the threat with a casual “it’s just goblins,” expecting an elegant triumph.
Yet here they were, stuck in a mud fight.
It was ugly.
An embarrassing spectacle that was painful to watch. Kim Jong-pil, observing from a step behind, could only shake his head.
“Tsk tsk. It’s far more serious than I thought.”
He had left them alone because they seemed full of confidence.
They had followed training well, so he had been slightly curious to see what they would show in real combat. He had given them the chance, but… the result was a resounding failure.
If there was one silver lining to this disgrace—
“At least the manual was verified.”
The bundle of papers in Kim Jong-pil’s hand.
The manual Lee Shin had given him was accurate.
No, it was astonishing.
Every single point was correct.
Less than three minutes after battle began, their bad habits and weaknesses poured out, and not a single observation was wrong. Not one word was wasted.
He wanted to grab Lee Shin by the collar and debate for days about what method he had used to extract such precise data.
However, while Kim Jong-pil was calmly appreciating the manual, the battle had already devolved into one disgrace after another—too painful to watch.
If they wanted to salvage even a shred of pride, now was the time for him to step forward.
Kim Jong-pil dusted off his backside and stood.
In that brief moment, his brilliant mind mapped out dozens of ways to overturn the battlefield.
If he deployed the spirit legion he took such pride in, or called upon his close friend, the highest-grade tree spirit Vita, the situation could be cleaned up in the blink of an eye.
But since Kim Jong-pil had declared he would not take the front line, he simply loosened his neck.
“Ahem. Ahem. Can everyone hear me? I have confirmed your skills. If it was entertaining, then it was entertaining. If it was surprising, then it was surprising.”
To evaluate coldly, in every aspect—specs, combat power, everything—the gap between the raid team and the goblin horde made comparison itself meaningless.
Put extremely, even if you tripled the number of goblins currently on the field, the raid team should have been able to hunt them without difficulty.
Yet reality was a flustered mess, a pathetic mud fight.
When Plan A fails, you move to Plan B or C. But the moment these people stepped off their predetermined rails, they lost their way completely.
Why?
There was no need to ask. Lee Shin had already given them the answer.
Tools.
They were utterly lacking in proactive thinking.
His tone was gentle, but the content was not.
The raid members flinched, bodies trembling with shame. Having proven with their own disgrace that they were nothing but tools, they could offer no rebuttal.
“Since you have likely realized it yourselves by now, I will say no more on this matter.”
However.
“From this point forward, you will follow my instructions without question.”
First, they needed to clean up the disastrous battlefield.
The wind flapped its wings, transforming into a single hawk. Kim Jong-pil’s bleached pupils shared its vision.
The entire battlefield came into view at once. The isolated tanker line stood out clearly.
I need to pull them back first.
The method he chose was—
“From now on, third-line supporters will advance while assisting the second-line dealers.”
“……?!”
Normally, retreat meant pulling the isolated tankers backward. But Kim Jong-pil was instead raising the second and third lines to reset the entire formation.
Retreat might look easy, but it was an incredibly difficult maneuver.
It was no coincidence that the most casualties on any battlefield occurred during retreats.
A proper retreat required careful coordination of breathing, communication with comrades, reading the enemy’s formation and momentum, and more.
These people lacked judgment.
The proof was the continuous stream of terrible decisions that left them unable to retreat or hold their lines.
Therefore, though it was somewhat crude, pulling everyone forward, pushing the goblins back, and resetting the formation was the easier path.
“Cease area-of-effect magic. Cast shields. Close-combat dealers, advance slowly.”
The view was not forward but at their feet. Right foot first. Brace the core. Match steps with the comrades beside you, one pace at a time.
“Long-range dealers, spread out to the flanks like wings.”
The long-range dealers all sprinted to the sides.
Hit and run. No need to overextend.
Rather than dealing damage, their role was to scatter the enemy’s attention and disperse the attacks landing on the main force.
“Third line, link up with the close-combat dealers. Equip auxiliary shields and match their support.”
He gave instructions from one to ten, like a mother teaching a child who had just sat down at the dinner table how to hold chopsticks.
How much time had passed?
The chaotic battlefield was reorganized as if by magic. Before they knew it, the isolated tankers had rejoined the main force.
“Right. Let’s start over from the beginning.”