The Hunt
“What in the world...? That kid.”
Inside the control room overlooking the Job Kingdom set, staff members were glued to their CCTV feeds to watch for potential safety hazards. An employee who had worked here for five years stared at the screen, entirely unable to process what was unfolding before his eyes.
Perched high on the roof of a miniature building was Sihyeok.
By design, no stairs or ramps led to the top of those structures. They were, quite literally, mock props. Yet somehow, that toddler had scaled the sheer wall and reached the peak.
Before astonishment could set in, panic surged through the worker. That child is in danger.
He reached urgently for his radio to alert the floor staff, but Sihyeok was faster. Vaulting from the roof, he utilized the ledges and railings of adjacent set pieces like a seasoned acrobat, descending to the ground with effortless grace.
Watching the spectacle play out, the worker froze, staring dumbfounded at the monitor and completely forgetting his duties.
Good grief... What on earth did I just witness...?
Having scouted the positions of the costumed mascots from his vantage point, Sihyeok leaped down.
Thud.
In his haste, he had momentarily forgotten his current physical reality—that this frail, six-year-old body had no business dropping from such a height. Even though he rolled smoothly into a breakfall, the shock rattled straight up through the soles of his feet, jolting his internal organs.
Ugh. I need to start conditioning this body as soon as possible... What a pathetic, brittle sack of bones.
Limping slightly, Sihyeok slipped into the shadows, stealthily stalking the nearest mascot monster. Inside the bulky suit, a part-time worker sat slumped against the floor, yawning into the costume’s hollow interior.
“Haaah... So sleepy.”
Ordinarily, the control room would radio ahead whenever children approached so the mascots could act like ferocious beasts. Without any radio chatter, it was prime slacking time.
“When can I go home...? Smack.”
Directly behind the carefree mascot, Sihyeok struck, swinging his weapon with ruthless intent.
Whoosh—!
The foam sword sliced cleanly through the air and—
Wham—!
It cracked squarely against the suit’s inflatable shell.
“Whoa, holy shit! What the hell?!”
Startled out of his wits, the worker cursed aloud, scrambling to make sense of the sudden ambush. What? Where did he come from? What is the control room doing, sleeping on the job? Tsk.
Flustered, the worker hesitated on his feet, utterly failing to play the part of a monster. Sihyeok, however, paid no mind to his confusion and pressed straight into his assault.
Thump—! Thwack—!!
He rained rapid blows across various parts of the costume, testing which seams vented air the quickest.
Sturdier than I expected. The air isn't hissing out fast enough. And this weapon is far too soft...
Having reached his conclusion, Sihyeok tossed the foam sword aside, unhooked the plastic scabbard from his belt, and leveled it at the worker. Unlike the spongy blade, the hard plastic scabbard would deliver far more decisive, concentrated blunt force.
The worker, just shaking off his shock to attempt an awkward growl, froze when he saw the plastic sheath pointed at him. The inflated suit might cushion some of the impact, but taking a direct crack from that hard plastic was bound to hurt like hell.
“Hey there, buddy, that’s not a weapon. How about you put it down? See that sword on the floor? You’re supposed to use that one.”
He tried coaxing the child in a gentle, placating tone to redirect his attention, but such cheap tricks were utterly lost on Sihyeok.
“I like this one better.”
Hearing that chillingly flat response, the worker’s face stiffened. He immediately dropped into a runner’s stance, prepared to bolt for his life.
Sihyeok had no intention of letting his prey escape. With a flick of his arm, he hurled the scabbard low, whipping it straight into the worker’s shins.
Crack—!
“Aaargh!”
Tripped up mid-stride, the mascot tumbled heavily to the ground. Seizing the opening, Sihyeok retrieved the sheath in a flash, mounted the fallen suit, and began pummeling it with furious, mechanical precision.
How many strikes had landed? The continuous hiss of venting air filled the alleyway until the entire costume deflated, collapsing into a limp, wrinkled mound of rubber. Drenched in sweat, Sihyeok pushed himself off the exhausted worker, plucked the prize marble from the suit’s pouch, and sprinted off in another direction.
Staring after the small boy’s retreating silhouette, the worker muttered in sheer disbelief.
“Is that kid completely out of his mind...?”
Sihyeok calculated his pacing as he ran toward his next target.
It took three whole minutes just to bring down one.
Only seven minutes remained. Relying solely on raw blunt impact to pop these suits was agonizingly inefficient. He began contemplating whether he should resort to genuine swordsmanship. A technique derived from the principles of piercing thrusts could rupture the pressurized fabric in a single strike. Yet even with an edgeless blunt prop, if a stray thrust caught a vulnerable pressure point, it could cause severe internal trauma.
Beneath the costumes were ordinary young adults working part-time jobs. In other words, civilians. That harsh reality made him hesitate.
However, recalling the thickness of the inflated rubber and the meager physical limits of his toddler body, he settled his resolve. Right. As long as I graze only the outer inflated pockets and redirect the blade’s momentum away from their vital organs, there won’t be any harm.
Accelerating toward the scenery, Sihyeok planted his foot against a fake brick wall, ricocheting upward onto a high railing. Running along the narrow perch on his toes with flawless equilibrium, he used a decorative cornice as a springboard and launched his body into the air.
In the blink of an eye, he arrived on the roof of another mock building. Catching his breath for a split second, he leveled the scabbard and plummeted straight down before a wandering mascot.
Driving his entire body weight through his shoulder, he plunged the sheath straight down. Twenty kilograms of pure kinetic energy transferred cleanly into the target.
A sharp shockwave cracked through the air as the inflatable suit popped on the spot.
“Eeeeeeek—!!”
Judging by the high-pitched shriek, this suit housed a young woman. She collapsed backward onto the floor, clutching her bruised tailbone.
“Ugh... That hurts so bad!”
Tears welling in her eyes, she glared up at him, but Sihyeok didn’t spare her a second glance as he sprinted toward his next target.
Two down.
Keeping count, Sihyeok calmly scanned the street. Yet for some reason, not a single costumed monster remained in sight. Halting in his tracks, he sensed an unnatural pattern. It was as though the mascots were moving in anticipation of his patrol routes.
Looking up, he spotted a dome camera mounted to a ceiling truss. Scanning further, several more CCTV units came into view.
Looks like... they’re monitoring me.
What Sihyeok failed to realize was that this entire event was meant to be harmless play, not a tactical operation. Every activity at Job Kingdom was designed to allow as many children as possible to participate and enjoy themselves. When Sihyeok annihilated two mascots in rapid succession, the control room staff—terrified that the other children wouldn’t get a turn—had begun radioing his location to the mascots, ordering them to steer clear.
Sihyeok immediately deduced the countermeasure, though he let out a dry, self-deprecating chuckle at the absurdity of it.
If they’re tracking me via CCTV, all I have to do is maneuver through their blind spots to hunt the targets down... But do I really need to go this far? It’s just a children’s game.
Though his mind rationalized, his body was already slipping into the shadows. Because the prospect of having Chaeyi patronize him and treat him like an adorable little puppy ever again made his skin crawl.
Inside the control room, the staff held their breath, eyes glued to the center display.
“Does that... make any sense at all?”
On screen, Sihyeok was slipping through the camera network’s blind spots with uncanny precision, ambushing the mascot staff with terrifying speed.
“He’s deliberately choosing paths completely invisible to the cameras,” another worker muttered, tapping a finger against the monitor. Sihyeok’s movements were fluid, disciplined, and chillingly calculated.
“Did he... receive special forces training or something?”
“Search me...”
While the staff were mesmerized by Sihyeok hunting mascots, an argument had erupted in an adjacent plaza between Chaeyi’s team and a group of older elementary schoolers.
“Hey! Where did your third member go?!” A burly boy among the older kids barked, jabbing an accusing finger at Chaeyi. “The instructor told us teams have to stick together in groups of three! This is cheating! Whatever you caught doesn’t count!”
“That’s right,” a bespectacled boy chimed in, reciting their supposed infraction with smug authority. “If all three of you aren’t present when taking down a monster, it’s disqualified!”
They were trying to claim the marble that Chaeyi’s team had painstakingly earned. Naturally, no such rule existed, and Chaeyi fiercely fired back.
“There was no rule like that!”
“Wanna die?! Why are you talking down to me?! How old are you, anyway?!”
Using his sheer physical size, the burly boy stepped forward, looming over Chaeyi to intimidate her. Chaeyi’s eyes widened as she bit her lower lip. No matter how fiery her temperament was, facing down an elementary schooler three years older and twice her size was overwhelming.
“...Sir,” she squeaked, her voice shrinking to an anxious mumble.
“So get lost! That marble belongs to us!”
Shoving past Chaeyi, the bullies moved to snatch the prize. Yet Chaeyi had pride; even through her trembling fear, she refused to back down.
“...That's not fair!”
“Drop the honorifics one more time and I’ll hit you.”
“...Please, sir.”
She tried to defend herself, but her voice quivered so violently the words caught in her throat. She cast a desperate glance to the side, but their assigned third teammate was cowering by a pillar, watching in petrified silence. No help was coming from that direction.
As the boy raised a heavy hand in a threatening gesture, Chaeyi froze, paralyzed by dread. A bitter surge of resentment welled up toward the absent Sihyeok. She didn’t even care about winning the stuffed Savior plush doll. All she had wanted was to have fun playing with Sihyeok, so she couldn’t understand how everything had fallen apart like this.
Did he leave me behind just to go have fun by himself...?
If he had, she felt like she would be angrier than she had ever been in her life. At the same time, an aching sadness hollowed out her chest. It felt as though Sihyeok genuinely hated being around her. What was supposed to be the best day of her week was about to plunge into total misery.
It was at that exact moment.
“What do you think you’re doing over there?”
Hearing the familiar, deadpan voice, Chaeyi snapped her head around. Perched atop an archway a short distance away stood Sihyeok. While sweeping the area for targets, the sudden clamor had caught his ear, drawing him over.
Sihyeok dropped down lightly, dusting off his clothes as he sauntered forward. His expression was as bored and indifferent as ever, but his eyes were sub-zero cold.
The moment their eyes met his, the elementary schoolers felt the breath ripped from their lungs without understanding why. Their legs turned to lead, refusing to budge, and their mouths hung slack in shock. It defied all logic. Why did a toddler who barely came up to their chests feel so towering, so utterly terrifying?
Only after seeing the older boys trembling in pale horror did Sihyeok realize what was leaking from his frame.
Ah... Bloodlust.
He recognized the aura instantly. The razor-sharp murderous intent forged across countless battlefields had seeped out involuntarily, suffocating the surrounding space.
“Phew...”
Taking a quiet breath, he reeled the pressure back into his core. With the suffocating weight lifted, the bullies’ legs gave out, and they sank heavily onto the floor.
Sihyeok shifted his gaze toward Chaeyi. “What happened?”
Hearing his calm, steady tone, an immense wave of relief washed over Chaeyi. Yet bewilderment followed right behind it. Cute little Sihyeok, who used to trail behind her like an obedient puppy—though lately he acted more like an aloof, prickly cat—felt rock-solid and dependable. It was a bizarre sensation.
As the terrifying tension melted away, tears welled in Chaeyi’s reddened eyes as she sniffled. “...We caught it fair and square, but they’re... trying to steal it from us...”
“Hah... Is that so?”
It was ridiculous. Even among active Saviors, disputes occasionally flared over monster core ownership after an extermination, but he never imagined he would witness such squabbling over a children’s game.
Sihyeok glanced at the mascot worker lying flat on the ground playing dead. The worker was thoroughly dedicated to his corpse roleplay, clearly having no intention of breaking character to mediate. In that case, delivering a measured lesson seemed entirely appropriate.
Sihyeok took the foam sword from Chaeyi’s limp grasp and leveled it at the boys. He could have argued the rules or called an attendant, but he was thoroughly sick of bickering with children.
“Hand over the marble. Do it now, or this might hurt.”
With the suffocating pressure no longer paralyzing them, the elementary schoolers were outraged by the toddler’s insolence and immediately charged.
“You little brat, don’t mess with meeeeee!”
The burliest boy lunged first. Gripping a squeaky toy hammer overhead with both hands, he brought it crashing down with all his might.
“Die!”
The hammer’s descent was wide, telegraphed, and agonizingly slow. Sihyeok simply slid a single step to the side. The toy hammer struck the empty floor with an underwhelming squelch. In that exact heartbeat, Sihyeok leaned his weight back.
Whoosh—!
An upward diagonal snap. The flat face of the foam sword cracked cleanly across the boy’s nose.
Smack.
“Guh—?!”
The boy’s head snapped back violently. Following the concussive sting, bright crimson burst from both nostrils.
“Aaaagh! My nose! My nose!”
A pathetic wail entirely unfitting his bulky frame echoed through the set. Losing his footing, the boy collapsed, burying his face in his hands as he rolled on the floor. Without sparing him a second glance, Sihyeok pivoted toward his next target.
Right then—
Thwip—!
The air hissed as a projectile whistled toward him. Sihyeok snapped his wrist on pure reflex.
Clack!
Sword and arrow collided with a crisp report. Drained of momentum, the shaft deflected harmlessly aside. Sihyeok’s eyes swept over it in an instant.
Tipped with an industrial-grade rubber suction cup.
A toy?
Yet it was no ordinary toy. It had been modified with reinforced springs to stick firmly to mascot fabrics, packing enough tension to easily bruise or tear exposed flesh.
“...W-What the hell?” The bespectacled boy’s voice trembled. How did he bat an arrow out of the air?
His brain short-circuited at the impossible sight. N-No, that had to be pure dumb luck...!
Refusing to accept what he had seen, the boy notched another arrow and drew the string taut.
Thwip!
Thwip—!
Two arrows flew in rapid succession. Sihyeok didn’t break his stride for a fraction of a second. He deflected the first shaft with a flick of his foam blade and tilted his head half an inch to let the second graze harmlessly past his ear. Never slowing, he closed the distance with terrifying velocity.
With every advancing step, the boy’s breath turned into a panicked wheeze.
“S-Stay back...!”
Scrambling backward, the boy tripped over a foam barricade. His legs tangled, and he slammed hard onto his backside. In that exact fraction of a second, a shadow engulfed him.
It was Sihyeok.
With no room to flee and no breath left to scream, the foam sword came down from overhead.
Thwack!
The blow cracked over the crown of his skull. Clasping his head in pure terror, the bespectacled boy pressed his face into the rubber floor, curling into a whimpering ball.
Chaeyi watched the entire sequence without daring to breathe. Seeing two older boys dismantled and strewn across the ground in mere moments, she stared at Sihyeok in a daze. The fragile boy she thought would hide behind her, the cute little playmate she had always looked after...
Right now, he looked more dependable than anyone in the world.
Is this... really the Sihyeok I know?
A strange flutter stirred in her chest. Was it excitement, overwhelming relief, or something else entirely? Chaeyi was far too young to decipher the emotion, feeling only an unfamiliar warmth wash through her heart.
Yet there was no time to dwell on it. Sihyeok was already moving again.
Glancing dismissively at the groaning boys, he walked over to the rolling marble. But the moment his fingers reached out to claim it—
BOOM—!
An invisible shockwave hammered violently against his chest. Struck by an unseen kinetic burst, Sihyeok lost his footing and was shoved back several paces, his boots skidding across the floor.
Is this... mana?
Startled, Sihyeok regained his balance and instinctively whipped his head toward the source. And there, standing in the middle of the courtyard...
The third member of their team—a girl who had been watching idly from a distance without showing the slightest interest—stood leveled before him. She held a foam sword aimed squarely at his chest, a subtle, enigmatic smile playing on her lips. It was impossible to tell whether that smile carried amusement, supreme confidence, or outright provocation.
Sihyeok knitted his brows into a deep frown. “...Was that you just now?”
Lifting the tip of her blade a fraction of an inch, she spoke as though she had just stumbled upon a fascinating curiosity. “Where did you learn your swordsmanship?”
Sihyeok paused, momentary disbelief flashing through his mind. Swordsmanship? Why would that word come out of a child's mouth here?
He scrutinized the girl with cold intensity. She was entirely different from the clumsy children blindly swinging props. Even for a toy, the prop carried noticeable weight, typically forcing kids to grip it with two hands, yet she held it effortlessly in one. Despite the one-handed stance, her center of gravity remained rock-solid, radiating seasoned composure.
An unnatural equilibrium for an elementary schooler. Tremendous weight planted cleanly into the balls of her feet. And above all, the external Mana Emission that had just repelled him.
She was no ordinary child.
“...I never learned it anywhere,” Sihyeok replied, narrowing his eyes.
It was the absolute truth. In his previous life, prior to enrolling in the Academy, he had never received formal training from any master, forging his entire sword art through grueling, bloody self-study.
“Aw... liar.” The girl’s lips curved as she took a slow step forward. Her pace was unhurried and silent, yet the pressure radiating from her thickened the surrounding air. “That makes no sense. Don’t act all cocky. What, are you trying to claim you’re some kind of born genius?”
Her gaze drifted down to the foam sword resting in Sihyeok’s hand. Tilting her head, she issued her challenge.
“...Or do you want to go a round with me? I’ll help you figure out whether you’re a real genius or not.”
The tip of her blade snapped forward, locking onto his throat. An unambiguous duel stance.
Behind him, Chaeyi sucked in a frantic breath. “Sihyeok... don’t. Something is really wrong with that girl.”
Chaeyi’s small hand tugged anxiously at the hem of his shirt. Glancing back at her, Sihyeok had to praise her inwardly. Kang Chaeyi... Sharp instincts.
By all appearances, this girl had already achieved Mana Release, crossing the threshold of channeling mana outside her physical vessel. In essence, she had already established the foundational framework required of an elite Savior.
By contrast, he possessed no mana release, burdened with only the raw, undeveloped physical capabilities of an ordinary six-year-old child. If they clashed right now, the outcome was predetermined.
He would lose, without question.
Even so, Sihyeok decided to take the fight. In the mundane routine of a preschooler, an opportunity to experience combat this close to real warfare would practically never come again.
His grip tightened on the hilt, his gaze sharpening with predatory focus.
A human being must always prepare for the worst. If dimensional cataclysm descended before his mana circuits could unseal, could he protect his parents from slaughter? He doubted it.
That was why he needed to test himself against genuine power right here, right now. Absorbing everything this duel could teach him—that was the absolute best Cha Sihyeok could do.
Taking Sihyeok’s readied stance as unspoken consent, the girl pivoted slightly on her heel, shifting her posture. A faint hum of mana leaked from the tip of her blade, causing the air above the rubber tiles to distort in a heat-haze shimmer.
Then, without a shred of hesitation, both rushed forward into the clash.