Siege Warfare (3)
Busan Naval Base in Yongho-dong, Nam-gu, Busan.
This was where the Navy carried out its core duties, overseeing military operations, training, and a wide range of other missions. The naval headquarters inside the base handled the Navy’s strategic policies and overall operations.
Because it commanded units at division level and above, the atmosphere inside was tightly controlled, with strict security and rigid rules and procedures. The emergency meeting had been running in a solemn mood from the very beginning.
Naval Operations Commander An Sang-hyeok widened his eyes.
“The Navy will not be taking part in this operation.”
Even with his back straight in uniform, his hard line was unmistakable.
Heo Da-young swallowed hard.
If this had been any other day, she would have been a wreck, flustered and panicking.
But not today.
I have to do my part too.
Originally, this was a meeting for team leaders and above.
An ordinary employee like Heo Da-young had no business being here.
But there was no helping it.
The Dio Guild Busan team was out at Gwangalli Beach, fighting tentacles for their lives.
She was the only one left.
Heo Da-young forced herself to speak.
“Commander, could you reconsider your decision? Please!”
The Dio Guild’s request was simple.
Send in the Navy to help take down the Dirty Kraken.
The Navy had refused.
And so the tug-of-war continued, neither side yielding an inch.
Heo Da-young did her best to stay calm.
Don’t panic. This is exactly what Hunter Choi told me to do.
Choi Yongki had seen this coming.
“The Navy won’t be easy. If they refuse, call me.”
Heo Da-young had passed the message on to Choi Yongki.
But she couldn’t just sit around waiting for him to show up.
“No. I won’t reconsider. The Navy’s position remains the same.”
Heo Da-young bit her lip.
What do I do? What am I supposed to…
An Sang-hyeok rose to his feet.
“If you have nothing else to say, I’ll be leaving.”
“W-wait!”
To be fair, the Navy had its reasons.
However hard she pushed.
However much she pleaded.
There was no room left for negotiation.
Even if someone else had come instead of her, they probably wouldn’t have been able to convince the Navy.
And yet.
If it’s Hunter Choi…
Choi Yongki was on his way here right now.
After a quick internal debate, Heo Da-young made up her mind.
She needed to buy as much time as possible so Choi Yongki could speak directly with the Navy’s representative.
I have to stall them.
She hurriedly sent a message.
Heo Da-young shouted in a rush, “Just twenty minutes! Give me twenty minutes, that’s all. I won’t hold you any longer, Commander.”
An Sang-hyeok frowned.
“Ten minutes. No more.”
Heo Da-young’s face brightened.
That move, too, had been Choi Yongki’s strategy.
“Open with an excessive demand. That way, the other side won’t be able to move far from your range.”
The so-called anchoring effect.
By dropping an anchor in the mind.
Somehow, the anchoring effect worked on the Naval Operations Command, and the situation fit together with uncanny precision.
“Then I’ll explain the detailed features of the sea monster, which we had to skip earlier due to time constraints.”
Heo Da-young moved to the front of the large screen for her briefing.
“And also the infiltration route of the sea monster, as well as our recommended countermeasures…!”
Her voice rose until it nearly tore from her throat.
I was breathing hard.
I had rushed all the way to Busan Naval Base in an old sedan the Dio Guild used as a communal car.
Security checks at the gate had delayed me more than expected.
Please don’t let me be late.
I shoved the operations room door open as if I meant to break it.
Naval officers were seated around a round table.
The large screen displayed all sorts of material.
Maps of the sea and terrain. A red arrow showing the Dirty Kraken’s shape, its detailed characteristics, and its likely infiltration route. Blue arrows marking the Navy’s approach route.
This was nothing like the amateur work I’d seen at the Dio Guild so far.
If Busan headquarters had slapped paper all over a whiteboard, this was a frame-by-frame collection of high-resolution images, each one handled with care.
It was all material Heo Da-young had prepared by herself.
She had fought with her computer through the night, practiced until her lips cracked, and cut back on sleep until her eyes looked like a rabbit’s.
Had it paid off?
“...And that concludes everything I’ve investigated about the Dirty Kraken.”
Heo Da-young let out a ragged breath.
She had spoken nonstop, straining her throat as if she were forcing the words out of her lungs, and her voice had completely gone hoarse.
“If you have any questions… cough!”
I walked forward.
Heo Da-young, too out of it to notice me, kept staring ahead blankly. I moved close and rested a hand on her small, rabbit-like shoulder.
She looked up.
“...Ah, Hunter Choi.”
Her eyes were wet with tears.
“You did well. I’ll take it from here.”
“Yes.”
Heo Da-young wiped her eyes and stepped back.
I looked straight ahead.
Lieutenant generals, major generals—leaders at the flag-officer level, the so-called stars, along with officers and noncommissioned officers, were packed tightly into the room.
The pressure rolling off them was no joke.
These were the ranks of warriors hardened by every kind of hell the sea could throw at them.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Hunter Choi Yongki, representing the Dio Guild.”
The men in uniform watched me carefully.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Could you explain why you’re refusing our request?”
The man seated at the head of the table spoke.
“I’m Naval Operations Commander An Sang-hyeok. You’re making me repeat myself.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve just come from battle. I didn’t get the situation report clearly.”
I had come without changing clothes, so I was still wearing protective gear.
I hadn’t even managed to wipe away the blood splashed from the tentacles.
“...”
An Sang-hyeok’s gaze swept over me.
Then his expression softened a little.
“So you came straight from the field. You’ve had a rough day.”
An Sang-hyeok gave someone a look.
One Navy officer stood.
“I’m Navy Captain Eom Il-seop. I’ll summarize the conversation we just had with the commander.”
Eom Il-seop condensed and organized everything that had been said so far.
“There are two reasons for our refusal. First, lack of resources. The Navy is already at war with Black Pearl.”
Black Pearl.
It had been a while since I’d heard that name.
It was the drug the gang had tried to move into the Ilyeon Hunter Industrial Complex and distribute through the factories.
Black Pearl’s country of origin was Japan.
Smuggling drugs from Japan into Korea wasn’t easy.
With immigration screening tightened and ports repeatedly blocking their shipments, the yakuza had boldly developed a new method.
They loaded up little boats and ferried the goods directly across the sea.
A direct deal, so to speak.
The Navy’s job was to stop illegal intrusions by foreign vessels and protect maritime routes.
In other words, it was responsible for defending Korea’s waters.
The Navy had been desperately trying to cut off Black Pearl’s import routes and chase down the yakuza fleeing into Japanese waters.
“Last month, yakuza gunmen opened fire with automatic rifles and seriously injured two Navy personnel. Right now, we’re conducting joint operations with the Coast Guard to monitor Japanese vessels. If the Coast Guard is pulled away by this sea monster incident, the Navy will have to fill that gap entirely.”
Eom Il-seop continued.
“Second, there are concerns about instability. We judged that the Dirty Kraken operation would be difficult to support with the Navy’s current size and equipment. That is all.”
In short.
They were short on manpower.
And it was dangerous.
Both of those are true.
The latter, especially, made sense.
Conventional firearms wouldn’t work against a monster that could manipulate mana at will.
No matter how advanced the weapons.
To a high-grade monster, they were nothing more than expensive toys.
For the Navy, ships were precious assets.
If even one vessel was damaged, the loss would translate directly into diminished defense capability.
“Those are perfectly valid reasons.”
I nodded.
If I wanted to turn a rejected negotiation into a success, what should I do?
Honestly, I wasn’t sure.
Bringing the hunters in Busan together had been relatively easy.
But moving the Navy was as hard as trying to shove a mountain out to sea.
A mountain…
I couldn’t keep drawing lines on the horizon forever.
“With all due respect, I’d like to raise an objection. First, don’t you have the Yi Seong-gye Fleet?”
I’d heard that small vessels had been mobilized to catch the drug traffickers.
The Busan Navy had destroyers known as the Yi Seong-gye Fleet.
“Please deploy a large fleet for this operation. Second, the Navy won’t be taking on the Dirty Kraken directly. You only need to maintain a perimeter and observe. The moment you spot it, retreat.”
I tapped my chest lightly.
“I’ll handle the rest. The Navy won’t be put in danger. I promise you that.”
I laid out the last possible option as stubbornly as I could.
If the Navy still refused, I would have no grounds left to convince them.
The operations room fell silent.
An Sang-hyeok stared at me.
No, this is…
In the heavy air, I felt something strange.
Especially in An Sang-hyeok’s eyes. Something about them wasn’t right.
...Something’s off?
It hit me then.
The Navy was lying.
The refusal was only on the surface.
The real reason was something else.
I walked forward and stood before An Sang-hyeok.
“Commander. This is about the safety of Busan’s citizens. Please, speak honestly with me.”
An Sang-hyeok said nothing.
He only tapped the desk at regular intervals.
The gaze of Naval Operations Commander An Sang-hyeok shifted to Choi Yongki.
He noticed?
The reasons we’d listed for refusing were a smoke screen.
An Sang-hyeok stopped drumming his fingers on the desk.
“Fine. I’ll be frank. The Navy dislikes working with Hunters. More bluntly, you could say we hate it.”
This was the kind of conversation you’d never hear in an official setting.
Raw and unfiltered.
“And it’s not just the Navy. The Army and Air Force too. Even the Marines. We hate Hunters.”
An Sang-hyeok’s eyes burned.
Choi Yongki didn’t look away.
“Is it because I’m from Dio?”
“No. This isn’t limited to any particular guild.”
“Then…?”
“Because Hunters treat soldiers like replaceable parts.”
The two men’s hot gazes collided.
“A Gate opens, monsters pour out, and the nearest unit is deployed faster than anyone else. The soldiers control traffic, build defenses, and evacuate civilians to safety.”
An Sang-hyeok’s face twisted as he recalled the past.
“Then the Hunters show up late, snatch command authority away in one stroke, and dump all the grunt work on us. They ask us to bring supplies because they’re hungry, or to launch helicopters so they can go back. I’ve even heard Hunters demand that we set up an entire communication network because their phones had no signal.”
Even with unprecedented external enemies appearing, seeds of conflict were sprouting all over the human world.
The invisible tension between Hunters and soldiers had rotted for so long that it was on the verge of blowing up when it mattered most.
“Hunter Choi Yongki. You’re an Awakened, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“Awakened people are convinced they’re different from ordinary citizens. Am I wrong?”
Choi Yongki lowered his gaze.
Not because he had given up or because he was discouraged.
It was because he couldn’t argue with An Sang-hyeok’s words.
Humans were selfish animals.
For the chosen Awakened to be drunk on superiority—
Maybe that was only natural.
The issue An Sang-hyeok raised was not something Choi Yongki could solve right then and there.
I know that. It isn’t your fault.
The Naval Operations Commander was taking out his frustration on Choi Yongki, who had come here as the Hunters’ representative.
“You’re right, Commander. It’s absolutely true that some Hunters invoke their rights and treat soldiers carelessly. But...”
Choi Yongki took one step forward.
“I awakened this year. I’m only D-class. Until not long ago, I was working in a factory just to feed my grandmother and younger brother.”
A heavy voice rolled through the operations room.
“Mr. Kim Chun-bae, who got scammed and wound up in debt, then ended up in the industrial complex. Uncle Park Chang-seong, whose wife ran off and who became homeless from the shock. Professor Jang, who used to work in education but has been drifting from lottery shop to lottery shop after being falsely accused in a sex scandal. Even Karki, the foreign worker from Nepal.”
The names were unfamiliar, yet somehow they felt familiar when spoken aloud.
They were exactly the sort of people An Sang-hyeok had been emphasizing—ordinary people you could find anywhere around you.
“I spent a long time with them. I’m an Awakened, but I’m also still just a mortal trapped in the same human suffering, someone who hasn’t transcended life and death. At the same time—”
Choi Yongki’s voice rose.
“I’m someone who wants to save the non-Awakened. Someone who wants to defeat the enemy. Someone who wants to save the world!”
Deep inside An Sang-hyeok’s chest, something flared hot.
Among the words every soldier in the Republic of Korea Navy was expected to know by heart, there was a line from The Navy’s Vow:
First. Let us be a Navy united in camaraderie.
First. Let us be a Navy that wins when it fights.
Savior. Hero.
Or simply, a hero.
Choi Yongki’s words were, in one sense, absurdly idealistic.
And yet.
They were enough to move An Sang-hyeok.
“Commander. I want to fight with you.”
Choi Yongki bowed his head.
“Please lend us the Navy’s strength.”
An Sang-hyeok stood.
He walked straight over and stopped in front of Choi Yongki.
“Raise your head, Hunter Choi Yongki.”
An Sang-hyeok held out his hand.
“Very well. I’ll trust you and stand beside you as a comrade.”