Prologue
It was a deafening roar.
A colossal noise he'd never heard before in his life.
Kang Moo-hyuk screamed at the thunderous boom, which was on an entirely different level from mere thunder. His own voice startled him with its volume, but it was quickly drowned out by the shouts of the fleeing crowd.
Rubbing his ringing ears to restore his hearing, he finally realized his hand was empty.
His mother, whose hand he'd been gripping tightly, was nowhere to be seen.
Whipping his head around, he spotted a familiar back.
"Dad! Mom's gone, I can't see Mom!"
Unfortunately, Kang Moo-hyuk’s cry didn't reach his father.
Dazed as if entranced, his father wasn't running away—he was heading straight toward the direction of the monster's howl.
Startled, Kang Moo-hyuk grabbed his father's sleeve.
"What are you doing? That's where the monsters are!"
His father turned. Kang Moo-hyuk flinched and let go.
It wasn't the gaze he knew.
Cold eyes. No—eyes dried of all emotion, utterly vacant.
His father had always been neglectful of family, but he'd chalked it up to work and never complained.
In that moment of eye contact, Kang Moo-hyuk realized the grave mistake he'd made all those years.
'This man doesn't give a damn about family.'
A voice confirmed his thought.
"I need to retrieve my research data. Go on ahead."
"Wha—Mom's missing! She's already hard of hearing!"
"She's probably around somewhere. She's clever; she must've gone ahead. Go find her."
"What the hell are you...?"
Kang Moo-hyuk tried to grab him in disbelief, but his father had already vanished into the smoke.
"...talking about?"
Left alone, he muttered to himself, staring blankly in the direction his father had gone.
From that day forward,
Kang Moo-hyuk became a voluntary orphan.
His mother vanished, and he cut ties with his father.
Fifteen years later, on the cusp of turning 30,
Kang Moo-hyuk stood on the front lines, battling the very monsters that had torn his family apart.
That was the role he'd chosen, since he couldn't become a hunter himself.
1. Every Organization Has Its Dead Weight
The strategic tactical team's meetings at a top A-rank guild ran intense 365 days a year.
Every plan, every raid strategy dealt with hunters' lives, so pouring one's soul into each moment was only natural.
In that sense, the strategic tactical team—which handled guild reinforcements and hunting plans—was second only to the expedition team in importance.
Monday morning.
As attendees lingered in weekend haze, still shaking off the lethargy,
Team Leader Kang Moo-hyuk's crisp, no-nonsense voice cut through the conference room.
"For the presumed 4-star named monster, codename 'Garuda,' have Analyst Kim from the analysis team compile the scouting footage once it's up and send it to me. No half-assed skim like last time, even if it's low-rank. Interview the scouting team thoroughly too."
"Yes, sir."
"Equipment division—Assistant Manager Oh, status on upgrading the ampoule grade in the standard gear set?"
"Unit costs don't align for bumping from Grade 2 to Grade 1. With the 'potion cartel' jacking prices everywhere, they're probably hoarding till the ceiling. It'll stay sky-high."
Oh Chang-soo shook his head ruefully.
Kang Moo-hyuk knew it wasn't exaggeration. Oh wasn't one to whine, and he was competent. If he said it was tough, it was.
This was seasonal. Fall meant prepping for southward monster migrations from Gaema Plateau and beyond the Yalu River, so potions and ampoules spiked predictably.
'Can't wait till winter prices drop, though.'
Ampoule upgrades were key to guild strengthening. Delay meant falling behind rivals.
And even winter's lull didn't guarantee drops if new gates popped up.
What choice? He had to crack the whip on his team.
Sure, he'd tap his network as team leader, but first, tighten up the slacking crew.
That was why the guild had appointed a non-hunter as head of strategic tactical—first in the industry. They weren't paying his fat salary for nothing.
"Got it? This project's do-or-die. We sweat; hunters bleed. No slacking."
Oh bit his lip, unhidden frustration. Kang Moo-hyuk nodded for him to speak.
"Effort can't fix market price. Suppliers balk at 55 ron per tick."
"How much they want?"
"Minimum 800,000."
"Steep hike. Grade 1's 50 ticks... 40 million won."
Kang Moo-hyuk frowned, goal clear:
Upgrade all ampoule kits—hunters' lifelines (emergency medical supplies).
Priority: top teams. They'd cascade gear down, boosting overall power.
Artifacts like weapons, armor, accessories were ideal but too costly for full distribution.
Ampoule kits, though? Preserved forces if not instant-kill. Most bang for buck.
Cheaper than artifacts too. Sure, disposables from hundreds of thousands to billions seemed extravagant to civilians.
Money like water? Potions fit perfectly.
Shareholders hated the project. The guild master, hounded by them, wasn't thrilled either.
Current master had elevated ragtag Titan to A-rank, but management? Not his forte.
Ambitious for S-tier, but lousy at negotiation brinkmanship.
Board and shareholders ran circles around him post-meetings.
Maybe that's why Kang Moo-hyuk rose here—the master hated the politicking. His silver tongue was universally acknowledged.
'Negotiating, or ass-kissing. Damn, gotta beg upstairs again.'
Kang Moo-hyuk sighed, recalling shareholder sway over guild ops.
Hunters were people too. Treating them as numbers for profit? From guild-lifers' view, execs kowtowing to suits over members drew no pity.
"I'll scout finance for more budget. Keep eyes on market. Meeting adjourned. Report anomalies directly."
The all-morning grind left the team drained.
The week's start felt like Thursday already.
Exiting, Kang Moo-hyuk scowled. Trailing members froze.
"Sorry I'm late."
Glancing up from his slouched chair, feet on desk—a rookie smirked.
'Is the guild cursed? How'd this clown land in strategic?'
Titan was A-rank. Short 30-year hunter history or not, prestige guilds had traditions. Newcomers needed reputation to catch "tier" elites.
This young hunter exemplified why Titan stalled at A.
"Sorry? Ma Tae-sik, is that what you say after Monday tardiness? The guild's a company. Attendance is basic, right?"
Striding up, teeth gritted, Kang Moo-hyuk pinched his nose. Alcohol and stale smokes reeked.
"What the—drunk? Missed briefing for booze?"
"Me? Hunters drunk on duty?"
"Then what?"
"You know, team-building's vital. Boozed with industry buds, swapped intel. Got late. Cut me some slack, Team Leader."
Slack? For the demoted screw-up?
'Should've refused this headache.'
Ma Tae-sik, Vice Master Ma Tae-soo's brother.
The youngest of five, a huge age gap with the eldest, but dual-hunter brothers? A success story.
Unlike the dutiful Tae-soo, Tae-sik—a spoiled latecomer—was a punk.
A hunter gig plus a big-brother VP? The social ladder looked like a joke.
Trouble was: he'd pulled crap in the expedition too.
Bullying via connections, hitting on a female expedition hunter.
Even the VP couldn't fully bury that.
The expedition was the guild core. Elite voices were loud.
A newbie—in via nepotism—lusting after a mainstay? Bold.
'Lee Jin-joo should've cracked his skull.'
She'd shattered his limbs instead. Absent for months, back at last.
Then demotion.
He wasn't top talent, so firing was fair—but his brother's status capped the punishment at this.
Korea: connections rule. Dumped here: Kang Moo-hyuk's team.
Strategic tactical wasn't a true demotion—it was as vital as the expedition. Just a rung lower, hence the term.
Kang Moo-hyuk regretted not rejecting the VP's plea.
'Dead weight everywhere, but in the core team? A line was crossed.'
He'd ignored Tae-sik; the team ghosted him.
Busy enough, no drama.
But no more. Stress snapped his control.
Ultimatum:
"Ma Tae-sik. Night shifts, one week. No refusals."
"A week? Tough."
"The VP's face saved you. Defy orders, and HR acts."
"HR for this? Non-hunter blind spot? Grow up, let's smooth it over."
Something snapped in Kang Moo-hyuk's head.
"Who's acting childish?!"