Anomaly (1)
I had no idea how things had ended up this way, but there was no reason to refuse a helping hand when one was offered.
So there I was, trailing after Lee Haneul through the heart of vast, sprawling Seoul, the city's nightscape stretching out behind us.
"…Mind if I ask you something?"
"Huh? Oh—yes! Ask away."
The woman walking ahead of me still had her sunglasses and mask on.
Even if the weather was a bit chilly, wasn't that a little uncomfortable? The question crossed my mind, but rather than pick a topic that might touch a nerve, I decided to ask about what I actually needed to know.
Things like the World Scar. Hunters. That sort of thing.
The World Scar, she explained, had been a catastrophe three years ago—a massive dimensional rift that had split the Earth at an angle. It had appeared without warning, and China and India weren't the only ones to take a direct hit; countless nations along that line had been struck as well, and innumerable people and stretches of land had been sucked into the World Scar and vanished without a trace.
It was also the origin of the gates. The enormous rift had destabilized Earth's space-time, and incomplete pocket dimensions had begun forming and vanishing in endless cycles—or something along those lines. The interface where a pocket dimension brushed against reality was called a "gate," and when a pocket dimension on the verge of collapse shrank under pressure and dumped its contents onto Earth, that was a Gate Break.
Hmm…
Please don't tell me those are dungeons. I just cleared that goddamn dungeon and came back. If something similar shows up here too, I'm going to lose it for real.
"Oh, there's a new update. Part of the World Scar that hadn't so much as twitched until now… closed? Apparently. The academic world is in a huge uproar over it."
The article Lee Haneul showed me had a timestamp of thirty-eight minutes ago.
"Ah. Got it. Hmm."
I didn't particularly care, so I let it pass. Haneul had said it without much feeling either—probably figured it was someone else's problem.
Next up: hunters. Hunters were humans who had awakened through the mana that had flooded in from the World Scar. Strictly speaking, "hunter" as a profession and "Awakened" as a category were separate concepts, but Haneul said the two were used interchangeably these days.
A hunter's job was to enter a gate before it broke, clear out the monsters inside, and "close" it to prevent civilian casualties. In return, hunters had the right to claim a share of the byproducts harvested from the gate. Since the work involved saving people—and using magic-like powers—they were apparently quite popular.
Heavy armor warriors must be dirt unpopular, then.
I shook my head, picturing those heavily armored types whose only long-range options were chucking a spear or waving a wand around.
Yeah. Magic was the way of the age. Even I had to admit that.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Ah, um…. Just… magic is the best…?"
"You like magic, huh? Can you use it?"
"A little. Ju—just a little…."
"Wow! You really are a returnee!"
Even behind the sunglasses, Lee Haneul's eyes said Amazing—! in a tone of pure wonder. Honestly, the mismatch between her bright energy and the sunglasses-and-mask combo that tried to hide it was a little funny.
"…She doesn't ask me to show her, though."
"Oh—you wouldn't know. If you use mana without a hunter's license, you get arrested. Mana detectors are installed everywhere, like CCTV."
Lee Haneul pointed to a small device near a utility pole. Ah. So that's what those were—mana detectors.
They'd blanketed the whole country in just three years. Should I be saying, As expected of Korea!?
I stared at the mana detector for a moment, then turned back to Haneul.
"Hey, that thing…."
"Yes? What is it?"
"It's glowing… orange. Is that normal…?"
"What?"
Lee Haneul glanced down at the mana detector, then flinched and took a small step back.
"Huh? That's weird… that shouldn't be happening…."
She swept her gaze around the area, so I walked with her for a bit. Every mana detector in sight had its lamp lit orange. We walked a little farther and found one with a green lamp—
"Ah, found—wait?"
It flickered once, then turned orange.
I watched it happen, and thought:
The mana concentration across this whole area is rising. Why?
It wasn't me, at least. If mana were leaking out of me, I'd see my MP dropping in real time—and that wasn't happening.
Something had gone wrong somewhere I didn't know about. The moment that thought landed, my mind sharpened the way it always did when I stepped into a dungeon.
"…Let's go. I've got a bad feeling. To the police station—now."
"Wh—what? Ah… okay! Let's go…!"
If before I'd been trailing along at a leisurely pace, now we were hurrying. No weapons. We needed to get somewhere safe.
But for all that effort—
The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and every mana detector around us lit up red at once.
A massive siren wailed through the city, and a recorded announcement poured out over the streets.
I covered the back of my neck with one hand, trying to steady myself, and scowled at the unpleasant hammering of my heart.
…It's a dungeon.
A sensation far too familiar. Right in the middle of Gangseo-gu, Seoul—even at a distance—the presence of multiple gates stood out with stark clarity, and they were growing larger by the second. The moment of rupture wasn't far off. Monsters would come pouring through those gates any minute now.
And when that happened—
This city would become a battlefield. We had to run. Now.
In that instant, I felt a tug on my sleeve and turned my head. My eyes met Lee Haneul's.
"…The police station can wait. Let's go home. Ours."
I saw the tension and anxiety in her eyes—and the certainty underneath them—and nodded.
The way home was anything but smooth. In the end, the gates collapsed, and the monsters came flooding out. From far off, carried on the wind, came people's screams and the coppery reek of blood—things I had no choice but to force myself to ignore.
Inside the alleys, we walked as quietly as we could, keeping our footsteps soft. But in the open stretches between alleys—places where anyone could spot us—we ran.
She's holding up pretty well.
That was my assessment of Lee Haneul. For someone who was usually so timid and quick to shrink into herself, she was keeping her pace even under the mental pressure of not knowing when an attack might come. Maybe she exercised regularly. The thought had barely formed when—
"…!"
I felt it. A presence from above. Three small humanoid shapes? In that instant, the enemies leapt from a rooftop and dropped toward us—toward Haneul.
One of them locked onto her with perfect accuracy, dagger held reverse-grip as it fell. The other two dropped to seal off the front and rear of the alley.
Take out the weak one first, then pile on—is that the idea….
"Move!"
I grabbed Haneul by the collar, yanked her behind me, and drove a long kick straight up toward the sky.
"Kyaaah!"
Thud!
"Grk?!"
The goblin that had been dropping on Haneul with its dagger reversed took the kick full in the jaw; its head snapped around and it went flying. At the same time, the remaining two goblins seized the front and rear of the alley. Haneul was slow to react—startled, still trying to process what was happening—which meant she was out of the fight.
Dangerous. In a straight corridor, having enemies on both sides was about as stupid a position as you could take. In the dungeon, enemies had always poured out in swarms, and the key to breaking through alone was always the same: create a situation where you took as few hits as possible.
So first—let's redirect some attention.
I snatched the dagger from the goblin still spinning in midair with its jaw wrecked and hurled it at the one in front. While that goblin flinched in surprise, the one behind charged in, gripping its dagger in both hands.
Targeting Haneul again. So I flung out the arm still holding her collar and shoved her hard toward the wall. The goblin's blade carved empty air as it lost its mark, and I snagged its wrist with my left hand.
"Augh…!"
Haneul made a small sound—probably from slamming her shoulder into the wall.
Sorry. But I don't have time to worry about that. Muttering the apology to myself, I twisted the goblin's wrist until it broke, then smashed it hard against the drainpipe on the wall and shattered the bone.
"Kieeeeek!!"
The dagger slipped from the goblin's hand. I clamped down hard on the wound at its wrist and yanked.
Pain weakens the will. The goblin came with my pull, and I wrapped my right hand around the back of its neck in a clinch, spun half a turn, and thrust it out like a shield.
Thuk!
The goblin I'd thrown the dagger at to pin it down had already recovered and was stabbing at my back. But my brand-new goblin shield took the blade with its body and did its job beautifully.
"Kieeek!! Kreeeeek!!"
Shield Goblin thrashed in pain, but it was too weak to break free. My right hand, still around the back of its neck, slid up naturally and tore off its steel helmet.
Then once, twice—I brought the heavy helmet down on Shield Goblin's head, and I heard bone crunch. On the third blow, its skull caved in, and brain matter and scraps of flesh spilled out in red.
A proper tool shouldn't have a self. And since Shield Goblin's head had just exploded, it was clearly an excellent tool.
As I was thinking that, the remaining goblin wrenched its dagger free of the shield's body and retreated just far enough to keep a careful distance. It had been so fixated on Haneul—but it had finally understood that the real threat was me.
So I used that wariness. I lifted the blood-soaked steel helmet and hurled it straight at the head of the goblin that had stepped back. Even if it blocked, that was fine. This was the weapon that had just caved in its comrade's skull—its attention would lock onto it.
At the same time, I stomped hard on the dagger lying on the ground. Spin caught the blade and it hopped into the air; I flicked it higher with the tip of my foot. The goblin crossed both arms in an X to block the flying steel helmet—the defensive posture a living thing takes on instinct. And through that gap—
—I kicked the floating dagger and drove it home with perfect, sucking accuracy.
The helmet thrown at its head had blocked the goblin's vision. It never saw the dagger. And because of the X-guard, it couldn't stop a blade that slipped in just below the crossing of its arms.
"Krrrk… kirrk…."
The goblin crumpled where it stood. Foam of blood bubbled from its throat and mouth as it thrashed, unable to breathe. I stepped in, twisted the blade, and pulled it free; the wound in its neck split wider, blood gushed in thick pulses, and it died.
"Now… one left."
I turned and found the last goblin. I wasn't too late to track where it had gone.
The one I'd kicked in the jaw earlier—its jawbone must have been shattered, because it couldn't even form words, only mumble—was still crawling away, trying somehow to survive.
I came up behind it and worked the blade between its ribs. After I split the lung, I twisted and pulled, forcing the wound open wider. Unlike the others, that one died without so much as a proper scream. Its lungs had filled with blood.
Suffocation must have been agony. But I hadn't done it to make it suffer. I'd just… gotten sick of hearing the screaming.
I shook the dagger clean of blood, wiped it roughly on a goblin's clothes until it was presentable, and jammed it into my waistband. Then I walked over to Haneul.
"…Hic."
"Ah."
I was covered in blood, after all. Looking at Lee Haneul hiccuping in terror at the sight of me, I thought:
At least she wasn't afraid of me myself. That was a relief. What scared her was being thrown into this kind of raw, savage violence for the first time. Which meant this partnership could still continue.
"…Dirty? Can't be helped. Get up, Lee Haneul."
"O-okay…."
"We need to go home."
We had a shared goal, after all.