Betrayal
“Precious materials have come walking right to me?”
A voice like scraping metal echoed from behind the hunters.
Paat-
The hunters whirled around and swiftly put distance between themselves and the threat.
A mine with a melted face was blocking the gate entrance.
John Miller frowned, and a sound leaked from what might have been the mine's lips.
“...It can't be helped. Even diluted Vasuki poison only lasts two years. It was about time to replace it anyway.”
Exchanging glances with the other hunters while taking in the bizarre words.
No energy emanated from it at all. Dangerous. What to do...
Complicated looks passed between them.
Reaching a decision wasn't hard. They had to break through before more mines arrived and pass through the gate.
John Miller scanned the surroundings quickly upon receiving the signal.
The interior layout and what the mine had said. He had to survive and report it all to the higher-ups.
“No need to rush. For the time being, I'm the only one here. Whatever you did, it seems the entire lab is being treated like a gate.”
Meaning the only way in or out for now was through the gate.
“So how about we take it slow and chat? I've had so many questions for you humans, but the test subjects who come in here are always unconscious.”
...No need to waver at its words.
As the other hunters made their preparations, John Miller activated his stealth skill.
Soon, his body turned transparent.
“Don't you believe me? Or did you misunderstand? What I mean by this place being treated like a gate is...”
Suddenly, the mine's arm morphed into a tentacle.
Kwajik-!
In the blink of an eye, it pierced one hunter's abdomen.
“Kuhuk-!”
The hunter reflexively—but too late—grabbed the tentacle with both hands, straining with all his might.
But it was futile. The tentacle shot skyward, then slammed the hunter into the ground.
Kwang-!!!
The other hunters flinched. They couldn't move rashly without gauging its power.
“...It pisses me off, but it means I'm being treated like a monster. As a monster, killing you lot requires no conditions.”
It meant he could attack humans without consuming 'chaos' like usual.
No need to conserve energy either.
“Got it? No pointless struggling.”
John Miller glanced at the other hunters again.
One from Japan shook his head. Don't listen to it.
They'd die anyway if they didn't escape.
The Japanese hunter signaled John Miller and charged at the mine, his longsword aimed at its neck.
Mismatched, John Miller hurled three daggers.
At the same time, the other four hunters rushed in unison.
Their movements seemed desperate, yet not quite—everyone holding one move in reserve.
As an exploration team specialized in evasion and defense, they had no intention of a frontal clash.
But.
Kuung...
All attacks were blocked by an invisible barrier.
The mine grinned grotesquely.
“...Right, I heard humans get cocky in groups.”
In an instant, its arms split into dozens of tendrils. Tentacles whipped like lashes, shredding the space.
Kwaduk-!
Hunters retreating in haste were torn apart like paper.
In just three seconds, all hunters except John Miller were annihilated.
“...”
John Miller swallowed a groan and backed away.
Not just despair...
“...Damn monkey bastard.”
Mixed among the scattered flesh were unnatural wooden shards.
A wooden puppet. Likely the work of Japan's S-rank hunter—the puppeteer.
...It moved recklessly on purpose.
If the exploration team was wiped out, Japan could monopolize the intel.
Kkaduk.
Betrayal surged within him.
“A puppet? That's a bit tricky... Not my fault, though. He didn't warn me.”
The mine retracted its tentacles and continued.
“...Feeling like talking now?”
It stared precisely at the still-invisible John Miller.
No idea why this lunatic obsessed over conversation.
But maybe... an opportunity.
“...First, do you plan to kill me after we talk?”
“Who knows...? If you join us, I might let you live.”
“...I see.”
John Miller dropped his stealth.
The mine flashed a hideous smile.
Then John Miller extended his hand.
“Looking forward to working with you.”
An hour later, in the association president's office.
The president sighed deeply after hearing the field agent's report.
“...So no exploration team members emerged from the gate after all.”
A regrettable outcome. He'd hoped things would go smoothly.
“Were hundreds of mines waiting inside or something?”
The hunters sent from major powers weren't weak by any means.
Though some countries seemed to have sent mid-tier ones considering potential losses.
Still, their combo should have allowed escape.
What on earth happened inside that not one came out after an hour?
“...Who knows. They might have overextended. Or still exploring.”
“Either way, if they don't return, we'll have to send the world's top hunters—not an exploration team.”
The president nodded, worry creeping in.
...With such scant info, even commissioning asd123 is tricky.
Maybe request some high-firepower scrolls.
The value of intelligence hit home anew.
asd123's special scrolls shone brightest with precise intel.
He didn't even know what to commission now.
“...”
Perhaps he'd leaned too hard on asd123. The helplessness was overwhelming.
“Request max-output attack scrolls from asd123. I'll talk to the other countries again.”
As Lee Dong-gyu nodded.
Knock knock.
“President, an official document from the US Awakener Association.”
An unexpected communique from the US. The president read it.
“...Have they lost their minds?”
It detailed every finding from John Miller's investigation, without omission.
...Was the field agent's report wrong?
No reason for that.
Racking his brain, the president formed a plausible guess.
...He used stealth to slip out. Something must have gone wrong.
Likely tied to why the hegemony-hungry US suddenly released the info.
Even as a regressor, the president was baffled.
In the end, they got the intel without lifting a finger. It rolled right in.
A faint smile crossed the president's face as he told Lee Dong-gyu.
“...Revise the email to asd123.”
That lunchtime, in the Math Department lab.
Park Ha-jun was selecting additional admits for Mathematical Circuitry.
To fill the spots vacated by two cheaters.
He'd suggested they join next semester, but it was their choice.
Anyway, he'd picked the top two scorers.
“...These two have no incidents on record.”
Kim A-hyun vouched, her connections being decent.
The first Mathematical Circuitry class aimed for Jeong Hyun-seok's 5th circle unlock and overall scroll maker improvement.
No reason to cherry-pick unless the president said so.
Just no troublemakers. No troublemakers.
“Still, we should run a cheating test just in case. The barrier phase isomorphism problem's public now, so let's make a new one.”
Kim A-hyun's face lit up.
“Yes!”
Working on problems with Park Ha-jun was fun and educational.
“...Tomorrow or the day after.”
Her bright expression soured instantly.
“Yes...!”
Still, her reply was spirited.
“First, send them the acceptance texts?”
Park Ha-jun had admin work piling up.
There was the capable Im Ji-won, but.
End of month meant his final review.
Plus, performance bonuses hitting Lab 2 today.
“Then after texts, I'll refine the Mathematical Circuitry lecture materials.”
Park Ha-jun smiled sheepishly at Kim A-hyun.
“Thanks.”
Kim A-hyun returned to her seat. Park Ha-jun turned to his monitor.
While reviewing Im Ji-won's ledgers, an email arrived.
A sigh of relief escaped.
It had been a nagging worry.
Park Ha-jun had sent his best work, but.
The scroll's risk was high.
Darkness Mana Arrow severed passages.
Like cutting an escalator midway—end could be a cliff or wrong destination.
...But no mishap, thankfully.
The email continued, though.
Unlike Korea, a major power conducted detailed scouting and released data—America.
America indeed...
One of the few nations upholding pure academia.
Park Ha-jun read on with grounded goodwill.
Started light, but the shocking content demanded gravity.
Mine conversion lab.
A mine slaughtering A-rank hunters in seconds.
Speculative intel too...
Finished, Park Ha-jun pondered. Mine conversion lab...
Tak tak-
Drumming fingers on desk to organize thoughts—
Waaaa!!!
Cheers erupted from the hall beyond. Deep voices—Lab 2 got bonuses.
Veteran researchers like Kim Min-jun smirked knowingly.
A twinge of envy too.
With Park Ha-jun focusing on darkness for Lab 2, main lab projects dwindled.
Lab 1 got bonuses only once this month.
That thrill of cash hitting the account—just once.
...Kim Min-jun habitually opened his bank app.
All debts cleared with plenty left.
...One more bonus and it'd jump a digit.
Then he'd cheer louder than them!
As Kim Min-jun smacked his lips.
“...Everyone writing their personal papers okay?”
Park Ha-jun approached suddenly.
Lee Soo-ji whined.
“Hing, no. Help me... Mmph.”
Kim Min-jun covered her mouth.
“Thanks to your consideration, Professor, we're all progressing smoothly.”
A lie. Grads don't write papers 'smoothly.'
But Kim Min-jun sniffed opportunity.
“Any... issue?”
Must be a project. Can't let it go to Lab 2.
Tough, but when did they ever start easy?
Kim Min-jun eyed Park Ha-jun fiercely.
“...Haha. Smoothly, right?”
“Of course!”
“Mm... Good. Let's start then.”
“Start...”
Park Ha-jun nodded.
“Yeah. FYI, this'll be the toughest project yet.”
Meaning bonus scale too.
“I might die... Mmph!”
Kim Min-jun blocked Lee Soo-ji, resolute.
“Yes. Texting the seniors.”