The Dragon Slayer

"Insane."

The results exceeded even my expectations. I now had power equivalent to B+ rank, bordering on A-rank. But to others, I'd still register as unmeasurable—off the charts. To everyone else, I remained nothing more than an F-rank.

I clenched and unclenched my fist. The density of the aura gathering at my fingertips felt entirely different. Before, it had been like a match flame flickering on the verge of extinction. Now, it was a volcano primed to erupt at any moment.

"This spec is a pretty satisfying starting point."

I stood, brushing the grime off my clothes. My body felt as light as a feather. The sensation of defying gravity put me in a great mood.

Bzzz bzzz. The burner ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠phone in my pocket vibrated. Not under my real name, of course. A disposable to dodge tracking.

From the sender info:

I wiped my wet fingers on my clothes and swiped to open a browser.

My name was already at #5. Faster than expected. The Association bastards—always sucking up taxes, but quick when it counts.

I casually checked the breaking news comments.

On screen, news footage showed Isha boarding a helicopter, live on special broadcast. Her long white hair whipped in the wind. Her face was icy, but her eyes were bloodshot red. A killing intent that could pierce the lens and burn the world.

"Sorry about this, Isha."

I muttered softly at her image on the screen.

'Right now, all you'll find in that goshiwon is the scrap of my underwear I left behind.'

Your rage was justified. Losing family would do that. That fury would make you stronger. The more you burned to kill me now, the harder you'd train, the more desperately you'd seek power. That was the picture I wanted.

Not a saintess softened by peace, but an iron woman ablaze with vengeance. Only then could she stop the catastrophes to come.

I replied to the info broker.

I hit send, then smashed the phone on the ground and crushed it underfoot. Kicking aside the crunching shards, I headed for the exit.

100 billion won bounty. Humanity's hatred. Pursuit by the world's strongest. Worst-case scenario to anyone else. But I felt great. The world was rolling exactly as I'd designed.

"Alright, time to prep for raiding the Western Magic Library."

BAM!! The rickety goshiwon door flew off its hinges, slamming into the opposite wall. Before the dust could settle, Saintess Isha von Estelle strode into the cramped room. The golden aura pouring from her evaporated the stale, humid air in an instant.

"...Gone?"

Isha's eyebrow twitched. A narrow bed for one. A few clothes. Leftover cup ramen containers. Far too pathetic for the hideout of the Empire's guardian dragon slayer.

"Saintess, no mana traces nearby. He's been gone a while."

The Association agent following her reported, sweating bullets.

Isha scanned the room without a word. Post-its plastered on the walls, newspaper clippings. A handwritten memo caught her eye.

"What... is this?"

Isha's pupils shook. The map marked monster gate outbreaks with minute-by-minute times. Some matched real events perfectly. And in the most prominent spot, red ink:

"Save... me?"

Isha sneered. Killed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my family, but did it to save me? What nonsense. Clearly a mad cultist or delusional patient.

Her fingertips trembled faintly. That man's eyes from earlier. The mocking sneer hiding something. Those eerily calm golden eyes wouldn't leave her mind.

"Saintess! Look at this!"

The agent shouted, pulling an old notebook from the desk drawer.

Isha's face hardened as she opened it. Her forgotten habits, swordsmanship weaknesses, even her heavy period dates—meticulously recorded.

"...Hah."

Isha crumpled the notebook. Rage boiled over into cold clarity. Not a random thug. A stalker who'd observed, analyzed, dissected her life. Or an operative for some massive shadow group.

"F-rank Lee Han. Probably a fake ID too."

Isha turned. "Mobilize all Association intel. Everywhere he might go, everyone he might contact."

"Saintess, any guess on his next move?"

Isha recalled the wall note.

[Western Magic Library.]

"There."

Seoul outskirts scrapyard. Amid the stench of rust and oil, I frowned.

"Five minutes past meet time."

I sat on a crumpled car, tapping my watch. B District Gate 3. Sparse traffic—perfect for shady deals. Or burying someone without a trace.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

I smirked at the message. Traffic? My senses picked up over ten stealthy presences closing in.

"As expected."

100 billion won. Enough to sell out any info broker's ethics. To him, I was just a lucky F-rank who'd offed a dragon. Snag me, claim the bounty plus my Dragon Heart loot.

"Why not come out? Weather's too muggy for hide-and-seek."

Silence. Then footsteps. Black-suited men emerged from behind containers. Leading them, the grinning bald info broker Park ssi.

"Aigoo, Lee Han-ssi. Sharp eyes. As expected from a dragon-slaying hero?"

Park tapped a steel pipe against his palm.

"But whaddya gonna do? Business is business. Money talks."

"The goods?"

I ignored his chatter. He nodded to a subordinate holding a 007 briefcase.

"Got 'em. Western Magic Library Master Key. Burned half my network for this. But y'know."

His eyes gleamed with greed.

"Too valuable to just hand over. Your bounty’s skyrocketing."

"So?"

"Surrender nice. We split it, I get you outta the country. Fair deal, right?"

His thugs chuckled lowly, tightening the circle. Average C-rank, a couple early B's mixed in. Without the dragon's power, I'd be begging like a fly.

"Fair, huh."

I slid off the car. Dust puffed on landing.

"My math's different."

"What?"

"I take the goods, you keep your lives. Fairer, no?"

Park's face flushed purple.

"This punk get the memo?!"

"Says the one who didn't."

"Beat him! Half-dead for the saintess!"

The nearest musclehead swung. Reinforced punch, heavy whoosh.

Bam. To me: 'Boring.' Yawn-slow. Head tilt, no hands from pockets.

Whoosh. Fist grazed my ear.

"Huh?"

I tapped his shin lightly.

"Gahhh!!"

Just a tap, but his leg snapped at a grotesque angle. C-rank bone like a twig.

I stomped his screaming head for launch, leaping forward.

"W-what?! Why's he so strong?!"

Park backpedaled in horror.

"Sh-shoot! Blast him with magic!!"

Mages fired fireballs and ice arrows. Too late—I was inside their range. Dragon Heart mana surged through my veins. Hot. Electric. This was B+ flesh.

Hand out, slapped a fireball barehanded.

Boom! Flames scattered; my palm unscathed.

"N-no way. Blocked magic with his hand?!"

Grabbed the terrified mage's collar, slammed him down.

Crack! Concrete spiderwebbed.

"Next."

I grinned beastly, turning.

"M-monster!"

Five left, trembling, will broken.

"R-run!"

"Where."

Snatched a fallen pipe. Control the power. Threw like a javelin.

Whish—thunk! Pierced shoulders, pinned to a car door.

Done. I approached Park, collapsed and shaking. His pants soaked.

"P-please... mercy... I was blind... money madness..."

He kowtowed. I crouched, eye level.

"Goods."

"H-here!"

Trembling hands offered the 007 bag. Inside, ornate brass key glowing faintly.