111. Why Are You Trying to Appoint a New Heir?
“Ah, even if you beat me to death, I can’t do more. Guild Leader Kang, this is a breach of contract. That’s my reason for quitting the guild. I’m not a mine detector!”
Go Eul-ji burst into the leader’s office without warning and flopped straight onto the floor. A shadow fell over her head. When her eyes met the owner of that shadow, she jolted upright in shock.
“Eek! G-Guild Master, why are you here…?”
“Go Eul-ji Hunter, what are you doing here? You didn’t come to me. Were you planning to chew out Leader Kang?”
Joo Se-ah, who happened to be there with Kang Moo-hyuk, quietly thrust her fist forward.
Go Eul-ji frantically waved her hands.
“No! I just came to hang out, to hang out… F-First, could you lower that fist a bit?”
“You said you were quitting?”
“Ugh, just chalk it up to a teenage girl’s whim. It’s that age, right? Super willful? I’m not saying I won’t clear the mines anymore—I mean there’s nothing left to do. I got them all. Every last one.”
“For real? What if one blows up later? One smack per mine?”
“What, you’re not some delinquent boss picking a fight—you’re not that crude… They won’t go off. Yes, of course. Why would you be crude, Guild Master? You’re the epitome of intellect. Haha… No, I said keep the fist away!”
Go Eul-ji shook her head vigorously as she backed away. Just in case, she threw up a barrier. Ten layers of it, even.
Others might call it an overreaction, but she had once defied Joo Se-ah and gotten a knuckle rap on the head for it. The barrier she’d put up then had shattered like glass from that single hit. Effortlessly.
It had been a horrifying sight. In a real fight, she’d have been dead.
Because of that memory, even ten layers felt insufficient to Go Eul-ji.
‘No wonder it seemed suspicious. My barriers aren’t that easy to break. Even for an A+ rank, to not withstand a single hit…’
Joo Se-ah smirked at the wary Go Eul-ji.
“Relax. Someone might think I’m abusing a kid. I don’t hit without reason.”
“That means you do hit if there’s a reason.”
“Yeah?”
“...Yeah.”
“The fact you’re already thinking about getting hit means you know what you did wrong, right?”
“……”
Go Eul-ji was at a loss for words. The vibe suggested she’d messed up somehow, but she didn’t know exactly what.
She might seem rough around the edges from spending her school years hunting monsters instead of dealing with puberty, but in truth, she was the granddaughter of the Hunter Association Chairman—a powerhouse in Korea’s hunter world.
She was used to being fawned over, so she was closer to a naive rich girl oblivious to the real world.
Aside from her grandfather, Joo Se-ah was the first to treat her so casually.
That unfamiliar treatment was sharpening her instincts these days—and nothing else.
‘What did I do wrong? Mentioning breaking the contract? Coming to complain to the leader? Or did she find out I snuck in and loosened the legs on the Guild Master’s chair?’
Just the possibilities flashing through her mind numbered more than ten.
To hide her guilt, Go Eul-ji changed the subject.
“Honestly, making me clear all those mines in North Pocheon by myself is straight-up labor exploitation. I’m still a minor! You gotta roll me a little easier.”
“Hunters are responsible for their actions, even as minors. That’s the excuse you gave your grandfather when you joined our guild.”
“That’s that, and this is this. How else was I supposed to convince Grandpa?”
“Don’t act however you please. The moment you became a hunter, you turned pro. Once you join a guild, you can’t play the kid card anymore. And this isn’t work—it’s training.”
“This is training? Why not just tell me to bag a truckload of monsters?”
“Want to?”
“Sure! Just give me a hunting ground. I’ll head out right—”
“Scouting the site, supply plans, securing gear. Handling byproducts, hiring porters, writing post-hunt reports, and more. What can you do solo?”
“Th-That’s…”
“Others always handled it for you, right? You just hunted. You’ve got a lot left to learn. And I hear Leader Kang already promised you compensation for this training?”
Go Eul-ji couldn’t muster a single retort.
Her grandfather always stressed skill above all. Practical experience was secondary—you could pick it up later.
In the end, her only rebellion was a grumble.
“It’s vacation, and you’re working me till Christmas Eve. That’s too much.”
“That’s why I sent you home early to spend it with family, you runaway girl?”
“Sent me? I crawled back on my own.”
Go Eul-ji grumbled, feeling wronged.
She’d run off full of bravado for once, only to fall into the trap set by the leader she trusted.
He’d suddenly assigned Joo Se-ah as her mentor, then sent her on “training” to hunt mines. Clear every mine from the area swept by water demons when they’d breached Sanjeong Lake Dam, he’d said.
‘If I’d known, I wouldn’t have broken that dam.’
Exhausted from the endless labor, she’d gone home on her own—even though her grandfather never came to fetch her.
“Go Eul-ji Hunter, good work. Take this and cool off.”
Kang Moo-hyuk, who’d been quietly watching, soothed her as he pulled an envelope from his drawer and handed it over.
“Wh-What’s this? A bonus? Nah, but it’s too thin. You didn’t skimp and put in just one or two ten-thousand-won bills, right? Or one big one? Can I get my hopes up? Hehe… Hic? Ugh, this is!”
Pulling out the contents, Go Eul-ji trembled like she’d been shocked by electricity.
“Your favorite group’s Christmas concert tickets. You said you failed to snag them online, so I begged Team Leader Pyo. Even got your friend’s share—have fun.”
“Fr-Front row… Oh my god! I knew it. I trusted you, Leader Kang!”
“Leader Kang is your friend?”
“I trusted you, Leader Kang Moo-hyuk!”
“It’s tonight, so enjoy the concert. See you tomorrow.”
“Yes. I’ll enjoy it tonight and to—Tomorrow? Tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Tomorrow’s Christmas…”
Go Eul-ji double-checked. Kang Moo-hyuk tilted his head curiously.
“Family gathering? I checked—Chairman Han Byung-gu has a separate schedule.”
“Grandpa doesn’t even take Sundays off.”
“Oh, a date? You have a boyfriend?”
“If I had a boyfriend, would I be digging in the dirt on Christmas Eve? You’re picking a fight, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”
“Hold on. ‘Figured’? You think I’m some boyfriend-less loser? That’s not what you meant, right? It’s not that I can’t date—I just don’t.”
“I wouldn’t know about your dating prospects. I just meant no guy would dare approach after seeing the Chairman’s glare.”
“Well, Grandpa’s face isn’t the friendliest… Hmm~ Or maybe that’s not what you meant?”
As Go Eul-ji shot him a suspicious look, Kang Moo-hyuk subtly averted his gaze.
“Anyway, no boyfriend is good. See you tomorrow.”
“No boyfriend is good? Wait, that’s not the point—you can’t just gloss over this. Christmas. Christmas. Holiday. Nothing ringing a bell?”
“You a Christian?”
“Atheist here.”
“No church then. Come to work.”
Go Eul-ji sighed deeply as the conversation looped back to square one.
The leader wasn’t someone you could talk your way around. He even turned her hot-tempered grandfather speechless.
No wonder Grandpa said he didn’t know squat about North Pocheon.
‘Someone who intimidates even Grandpa… Is he even human?’
But skipping out meant facing Joo Se-ah’s wrath later.
“Everyone’s working through the year-end without a break. If you’re an Iron Will guild member, act like one. Right?”
“Yesss… Could you move the fist a bit while you talk? I get it.”
At Joo Se-ah’s “gentle” urging, Go Eul-ji surrendered. Then it hit her.
‘Wait. The leader’s the one who stuck the Guild Master on me in the first place? Damn, I’ve been played.’
Go Eul-ji realized too late she’d fallen into Kang Moo-hyuk’s scheme.
After Go Eul-ji left, Joo Se-ah picked up where they’d left off.
“Let’s continue our earlier talk. So, we’re keeping the Russia thing under wraps?”
“Especially regarding the Guild Master’s rank. I plan to limit info sharing to the Russia dispatch team, Jang Deok-gu Hunter, and Expedition Leader Lee Jin-joo.”
“Without telling the government?”
“They’d hype it up for PR if they knew. First S-rank in ages.”
Joo Se-ah nodded in agreement.
“True, it’d boost national prestige—they wouldn’t let it slide. Still a shame, though. S-rank clout could snag us all sorts of concessions and perks.”
“I regret it too. But this world isn’t ruled by strength alone. The guild isn’t ready to handle a Guild Master like that. External pressure could shatter us.”
Kang Moo-hyuk had run the numbers for days: gains from revealing or hiding Joo Se-ah’s rank.
His conclusion? Hide it.
Without guild backing, an S-rank was just a target for checks and balances.
Forget pressure from Japan or China—domestic tier guilds would view Iron Will differently.
From dark horse to dangerous rival.
They could cancel rider wolf contracts, unite to block sales channels.
‘Wolf shipments are far off, so no rush, but petty tactics leave us defenseless. Without blood spilled, it’s hard to resolve—and cleanup’s a nightmare. Handling each one would drain us first.’
Pressuring gear suppliers, hoarding potions, excluding North Pocheon freelancers from guild quests—nothing they could counter easily.
“I used to think S-rank solved everything. But as Guild Master, reality hits different.”
“Everyone mistakes S-rank for a cure-all. Post-Great War, with systems tuned to gate life, even S-ranks have limits. The Tyrant’s a prime example.”
The Tyrant had been a wanderer until his brother Darden elevated Tyrun Guild to tier status.
Without Darden’s government negotiations for amnesty, Russia would’ve had no place for him.
“S-ranks are human. They eat, sleep. To secure food, shelter, clothes, they need ordinary folks’ help. Unless they’re robbers or terrorists, an S-rank’s influence beyond violence is minimal.”
“That violence protects people from monsters—that’s why it’s respected. Problem is, plenty don’t get it.”
Mid-conversation, something occurred to Joo Se-ah.
“Speaking of the Tyrant—my rank. We can watch our mouths, but Russia’s side? Hard to silence.”
“Char Guild’s on board. They see cooperation with us as better. Even if our government asks, they’ll stay quiet.”
“Tyrun? Their vice master—nasty temper like his brother. He’ll hold a grudge.”
“Darden will keep quiet too.”
“Why? He’s cunning. He knows exposing my rank screws us.”
“The Tyrant ties with a hunter from weak Korea? That shows weakness. With hostile guilds piling on Tyrun, losing momentum is fatal.”
“No way… You had Char Guild leak what Darden did in Vladivostok to other Russian guilds?”
Joo Se-ah pieced it together.
“Not just advice for Char. You wanted Darden too distracted to bother us?”
“Plus, direct his grudge at Char first. Even if he traces the leak, Char takes the hit. If Tyrun issues arise in Russia, Char warns us first.”
“From Char’s view, Tyrun’s a mutual enemy. They’ll lean on our S-rank. Right?”
“Leaving influence in Vladivostok—close to the peninsula—will be useful long-term.”
Joo Se-ah shook her head at Kang Moo-hyuk’s boldness in treating Vladivostok’s top guild like a tool.
‘Suddenly pity Darden? And Char. They’ll end up at each other’s throats. Maybe tangling with Leader Kang is their worst luck…’
Kang Moo-hyuk neatly resolved an issue even tier guilds approached cautiously, then raised a new one.
“Russia’s settled that way. But a tougher problem remains.”
“Another one? Tougher?”
“Family feud.”
“...Taeseong Group?”
“The half-year promise with Chairman Tae Jin-seong is almost up.”
“We delivered results.”
“Criteria’s vague. The loose terms were designed so you couldn’t win, no matter what.”
“My mistake. Too much on my plate then—didn’t think that far.”
Joo Se-ah scratched her head sheepishly.
“No point regretting the irreversible. Focus on solutions ahead. First, confirm the Guild Master’s help.”
“How?”
“Something’s bugged me since before I took leader—since reviewing guild affairs.”
“What?”
“Chairman Tae Jin-seong. Why’s he trying to appoint a new heir?”