The Outsider (4)
Heo Da-young delivered her report briskly.
“The Seomyeon Underground Shopping Center was damaged in twenty-six places, with seven seriously injured and thirty-five lightly injured…”
The heater hanging from the ceiling of the conference room rattled as it pumped out a stream of dry air. Tape had been slapped over the windows to keep out the draft, and the yellowed whiteboard behind Heo Da-young showed just how much time had passed. The steel cabinet against the wall was thick with rust.
It was rougher than I’d expected.
When I first arrived here, I’d been genuinely shocked. The first floor was the employees’ cafeteria, and the Dio Guild Busan Branch began on the second floor, but even from the outside, the building looked as if it might collapse at any moment. Compared with the headquarters’ high-rise tower in Gangnam, the contrast was almost comical.
Why was there such a gap?
Year by year, more and more people were leaving the smaller cities for the big ones. In the countryside, where the birthrate had gone negative, whole villages were disappearing. Capital always gathered where the people were, and so it was only natural that hunter infrastructure had concentrated in Seoul.
“The Gate that let the Bullet Bird escape was closed after the combat team exterminated the monsters. In the process, a total of eight magic stones were recovered…”
Everyone was quiet.
Not because they were paying rapt attention to the report. Sunlight was slipping through the gaps in the window frame, and the warm artificial air had soaked them in drowsiness. Most of the team were blinking sleepily.
“Kuhh…”
Team Leader Mun Dalsu had his mouth hanging open as he nodded off without even trying to hide it.
It was a far cry from the man he’d been when he was fighting for his life against the Bullet Bird.
Well, I guess that makes sense.
These people were combat specialists. They probably shone brightest when they were out in the field.
“Above all!”
Heo Da-young raised her voice.
One of the dozing team members jumped, then quickly wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth.
“The biggest achievement is that there were no casualties. I even brought recent headlines for you. Take a look.”
“Dio Guild’s Exploits Turn Public Opinion Around!”
“Dio Guild Busan Team Prevents Countless Casualties”
“Seoul’s Hero Reappears in Busan?!”
“I’ll read the comments for you.”
Heo Da-young cleared her throat.
When Mun Dalsu heard that, he blew up at once.
“I was an alcoholic, sure, but I never drove drunk!”
Heo Da-young shot him a warning glance, and Mun Dalsu scratched the back of his head before clamping his mouth shut.
With that, Heo Da-young finished her report and lifted her head.
“As you can see, Dio Guild’s image has improved a great deal because of this incident. Since that’s exactly the result headquarters wanted, they’re saying a performance bonus will be paid out.”
In an instant, everyone’s eyes lit up.
To a salaried worker, a bonus was like rain after a drought.
“All of this!”
Heo Da-young spread her hand and pointed at me.
“Isn’t it all thanks to Hunter Choi, who came all the way here from headquarters?!”
Heo Da-young bellowed it like an orator, and the team members burst into applause.
“That’s right!”
“Hunter Choi really is our lucky charm!”
“And that company dinner that night was fantastic, too!!”
Mun Dalsu bowed deeply and said, “Hunter Choi. If there’s anything you need, or anything we can help with, just say the word.”
It was a spectacular welcome for a newcomer.
Maybe I should have them help me with the fan meeting? Could get the guys to put on mascot costumes and dance around or something.
That was right. On paper, I’d come down to Busan for a fan signing event.
And strictly speaking, this achievement wasn’t mine alone. Someone else had closed the Gate.
Of course, if I hadn’t managed to subdue those two chatterbirds in a row, the damage would have gotten far worse.
I’m not here to take credit, though.
I stood up.
As I walked forward, Heo Da-young quickly stepped aside.
“Thank you for the warm welcome. I’ll be honest. I didn’t come to Busan for the fan meet-and-greet.”
“Then why?”
Mun Dalsu tilted his head, looking completely baffled.
I took the envelope I’d been keeping carefully tucked inside my jacket and pulled it out.
It was Lee Chun-bae’s letter.
“I received a request from someone who lives in Busan. They want a monster extermination.”
Hunters affiliated with guilds were, in principle, forbidden from taking private jobs.
In principle, anyway.
Once in a while, if the payment was enormous, a hunter could receive guild permission and take a private request.
“How much are they paying?”
“Must be some kind of high-ranking person.”
“Who is it? The mayor? A chaebol chairman?”
I shook my head.
“A regular fisherman. The fee is 300,000 won.”
A heavy silence fell.
Seoul to Busan.
Back and forth.
And on assignment, no less.
That’s a disaster of a deal no matter how you look at it.
For this job, I’d set my goal as “honor.”
Only honorable deeds could raise a hunter’s rank.
“Why are you all looking at me like that? Isn’t it obvious that hunters should step forward for the safety of civilians?”
Another silence.
I knew it. Even to me, it was a statement that didn’t make sense for a hunter.
Hunters were still human beings, and human beings pursued their own interests. Charging in blindly without calculating the profit and loss was against common sense.
“I was lying. Let’s stop with the pretty talk.”
I couldn’t take on the Dirty Kraken, the sea monster that flashed east and west like a phantom, all by myself.
I need help from a team.
How do you get people to follow you?
You can give them a clear objective, or show overwhelming charisma. There are plenty of ways.
But above all else, the best method is this.
“It’s because of money. I judged this job to have enough material value to justify the effort.”
You present a benefit tied to action.
There was no better motivation than that.
“I can promise you this. If we succeed in this request, you’ll gain not only financial profit, but also a rise in the Busan team’s standing.”
One of the team members asked, “...Just what kind of monster is it?”
I tore one of the A4 sheets off the whiteboard and drew with a black marker.
Water to mark the sea.
A squid hiding underneath.
I wasn’t much of an artist, but the meaning got across well enough.
“It’s a maritime-type monster that can talk. It hides in the sea, attacks humans, and the moment it senses danger, it flees straight into the deep. A despicable bastard.”
I tapped the octopus with the marker cap.
“A disgusting octopus that does whatever it wants. Hmm. Let’s shorten that and call it a nutcase octopus.”
It didn’t have an official name yet, so I’d named it myself.
“I came here to catch that thing. So let me ask this without any shame. I need your help. Please help me.”
Mun Dalsu raised a hand.
“Estimated rank?”
“Higher than Wasteland-grade.”
The atmosphere sank at once.
Above Wasteland-grade was Apocalypse-grade.
That was power enough to wipe out all of humanity and still have strength left over.
Of course, the Dirty Kraken isn’t actually Apocalypse-grade.
Still, it was definitely a monster of unprecedented viciousness.
The Busan Branch team had already struggled just to stop the Bullet Bird.
If they faced something even stronger than that—
They might die.
In comics, heroes join forces with their teams to defeat villains, but reality wasn’t that simple. A reckless challenge could end in permanent farewell.
Even hunter manuals stated that if you encountered a monster stronger than yourself, you were to retreat first and request support. Hunters were valuable assets. Meaningless, needless deaths were to be avoided.
“This is a request. I have no authority to order you around. You’re free to refuse. But—”
My voice hardened.
“Even if you don’t join me, I’ll do it alone.”
This wasn’t bluffing for the sake of negotiation, and it wasn’t an attempt to provoke guilt.
These people were someone’s precious family. I couldn’t force sacrifice on them.
The team members wore grave expressions.
So, what will Busan team decide?
At last, a bitter laugh broke out.
“Jesus. So there was a reason you fed us that much beef last time.”
“Aye, right. You shoved the bribe down our throats; we can’t exactly pretend otherwise.”
They grinned.
“Nutcase octopus, whatever the hell it is—let’s either blanch it or slice it up sashimi-style!”
“What do you think, Team Leader Mun?”
All eyes turned to Mun Dalsu.
He stroked his beard, then got to his feet.
“Hell, why not? We can’t keep letting headquarters walk all over us forever. Let’s show them what the Busan team can do!”
War was all about momentum.
What decided victory or defeat was the team’s morale.
Of course, that wasn’t everything.
You couldn’t bridge a massive gap in force with sheer spirit alone.
“Sea monsters are our specialty, aren’t they? We can wipe it out in one go—”
“No. You can’t.”
Everything went quiet, as if cold water had just been thrown over them.
“Why? What now? What’s the problem this time?”
Team Leader Mun scratched the back of his head hard.
“You’re too weak.”
Someone gasped and clutched at their chest.
It was a straight-up fact-punch to the face.
“At your current level, you’ll be wiped out. You need to get stronger.”
For hunters, chasing strength was almost a destiny.
Was it a coincidence that the students in Gangnam’s Daechi-dong had such a high acceptance rate into Seoul-area universities?
No. The shortage of S-class hunters in Busan was no accident, either. These people lacked varied real-world combat experience, elite education, quality training methods, and good equipment. They had practically none of the advantages that Seoul took for granted.
The Busan team had been left to survive in harsh conditions.
“Tch. Get stronger, huh?”
“...Like that happens overnight.”
The team members’ shoulders slumped.
I wasn’t trying to irresponsibly tell them to work harder or make a cheap moralizing speech.
What I needed to do was simple.
“Where’s the training room?”
“It’s on the fourth floor, but...”
Mun Dalsu clicked his tongue.
“It’s been so long since anyone used it.”
“Let’s go up.”
I led the team upstairs.
The door to the training room opened.
“Cough!”
Mun Dalsu coughed and waved a hand in front of his face.
“Good grief. What a mess.”
The wooden floor was coated in a thick layer of white dust. Cobwebs hung in every corner. The punching bags were torn open, and the square ring in the center had been covered entirely with cloth.
“We used to train together all the time, but the equipment got old, so these days everyone just does their own thing.”
Mun Dalsu offered the excuse as though trying to defend himself.
“Let’s start by cleaning. We’ll polish this floor until it shines.”
The cheerful atmosphere was over.
I transformed into a strict instructor on the spot.
“I’ll take responsibility and make all of you stronger.”
It was an ironic situation. A D-class hunter was making a bold promise to people above his rank, but no one objected. They had seen the Bullet Bird that had been smashed by my hands.
“I’ll go wring out the rags!”
A bright voice rang out.
The one who shot her hand into the air was the hapless rabbit, Heo Da-young.
“Yeah. We’ve all got to earn our keep, don’t we? Move, everyone!”
At Mun Dalsu’s command, everyone scattered busily. They opened the windows, swept, dusted, and scrubbed away years of grime.
Half a day later, the gym was finally usable.
“Whew, that was rough.”
“I feel like I’m gonna run out of energy before we even fight the monster.”
While the team members wiped the sweat from their brows, I checked the wooden floor. It creaked under every step.
Compared to the training room at Seoul headquarters, it was pitiful, but this was workable.
I looked over the cleaned-up room, then faced the team squarely.
“Let’s start right away.”
“Huh?”
“We’re starting today? Not tomorrow?”
Strike while the iron was hot.
Groans of despair rolled out from every direction.
This wasn’t going to work if I just barked orders at them.
I deliberately laced my words with a little arrogance.
“Do you know why a D-class hunter like me got this strong?”
By common sense, it made no sense for a D-class hunter to have taken down the Bullet Bird.
“It’s thanks to special training in Seoul. If you work hard, you can get strong like me, too.”
If you’re going to scam people, do it properly.
You have to paint them a bright future.
Stick with my teachings, and you can get into a Seoul university. It was the kind of line a slick, fraudulent star instructor might have used, but one by one, the team members began looking at me with curiosity.
“Oh? Seoul-style special training?”
“Now that does sound interesting.”
“All right then. This is the kind of lesson money can’t buy, so we might as well hear it out, right?”
And so the special training began.
“First, change into these.”
I handed out short-sleeved black shirts one by one.
They were made by the Ilsan Hunter Industrial Complex: light, quick-drying functional T-shirts.
“Oh. Nice texture.”
“It doesn’t even feel like I’m wearing anything. Light as a feather.”
I called over Heo Da-young, who was sparkling with excitement on the side.
“Ms. Heo.”
“Yes!”
“Go get me a few buckets.”
“Buckets? The water cleaning’s already done. Are you planning to mop again?”
“They’ll all be useful.”
I gave her a meaningful smile.
A short while later, everyone had gathered in one place.
“First, let’s build basic stamina.”
Jump rope, burpees to burn fat and strengthen muscle, high-intensity intervals—one thing after another.
About thirty minutes passed.
“Uwaaagh!!”
Someone vomited.
I kicked a bucket over at once and positioned it perfectly beneath the stream.
“Kuweeeek!!”
Then vomiting broke out all around the room.
So this was Na Sang-min’s hell training.
I’d never realized how satisfying it could be, because I’d always been the one on the receiving end. But seeing it from the other side?
Man, this is weirdly satisfying.
Possessed by the spirit of a mad dog, I roared like a devil.
“You pathetic bastards—why are you still on the floor? We’re just getting started!!”