Mission Start
“Damn it…. I told you not to get greedy, didn’t I?!”
“Fuck, you think I knew it’d end up like this?”
Once famous for being run by B+ rank twin hunters, the Twins Guild.
The twin brothers who served as co-guild masters of Twins, Oh Cheol-jin and Oh Cheol-su, were inwardly regretting not smashing the gate core sooner.
Their party members had all been wiped out.
The guild’s foundation had already been uprooted, and now they had to worry about their own survival.
The gate churned fiercely, as if refusing to even grant them that much. The world inside the gate was contracting its territory. Startled by the pressure, the monsters surged toward the exit.
The moment the gate mouth opened, chaos would erupt outside.
“If we’d just smashed the core sooner…”
“Who knew the thing guarding it would be such a monster?”
“We knew. We just underestimated it.”
They’d successfully hunted the gate boss, so who could’ve guessed they’d fail to take down the gatekeeper?
It was a newly registered monster, but the records clearly stated it had been defeated quickly.
Blindly trusting the system info without proper prep had been their fatal mistake.
If they’d dug deeper, they would’ve prepared for a boss raid-level threat.
“Whatever. We’ve gotta get out alive first.”
“Get out alive? What then? Even a 1st-tier guild can’t hold if we don’t close the gate. We’re done. Finished.”
“Shut up. It’s embarrassing just listening. Who’d even see you as guild master…”
Boom!
“…anymore? Shit, we’re screwed.”
The area in front of the brothers was instantly engulfed in flames.
Turning back, they saw the damn monster that had wiped their party.
Despite running for their lives, it had caught up.
There was nowhere left to flee.
The brothers rallied their exhausted bodies for one last fight.
If they hadn’t gotten cocky and rushed in, they wouldn’t have been toyed with like this. They’d judged it weak from its small size and paid in blood.
Whoever took that thing down must’ve been a real monster themselves—worthy of awe.
“Looks like we’re not making it out.”
“Since it’s come to this, let’s not die pathetically. If that thing gets out, it’ll shred the rest of our guys and the staff. We can’t stop an outbreak, but let’s at least take it down.”
The brothers charged at the gatekeeper with grim resolve.
* * *
Fortunately, the four nearby hunters followed Kang Moo-hyuk’s lead.
They were acting on the hunter world’s unwritten rule.
Leading with Titan Guild’s backing had helped too. They knew individual fights wouldn’t cut it.
In emergencies, command typically went to the most experienced hunter nearby, or someone from a decent-sized guild—ideally a party leader or tank.
If that didn’t work, it fell to famous raid leaders or freelance party leaders.
Not law, but a tacit rule honed by years of hunter experience.
It minimized arguments over orders in the heat of the moment. Prioritizing experience kept screw-ups low.
As a former A-rank guild strategic team leader, Kang Moo-hyuk ranked top-tier—non-hunter status aside.
As the hunters gathered, Kang Moo-hyuk stepped down from the truck.
Dubious expressions all around.
Not disbelief he was from Titan, but because they knew exactly who he was.
The industry’s one-of-a-kind non-hunter strategic team leader, face plastered across media from the recent press conference—impossible not to recognize.
Any A-rank guild strategist was basic knowledge, even for freelancers.
No school ties, blood ties, or hometown connections? Freelancers clung to any link. Opportunities were scarce; networking eyes were mandatory. Industry VIPs were must-knows.
‘Convenient not having to prove my identity. But being a non-hunter’s still a high wall. Those faces are straight out of old Titan guild member playbook.’
He could guess their thoughts.
What’s this non-hunter doing?
One hunter, glancing around, spoke cautiously.
“We gathered on the fly… Sorry, but can a non-hunter really call the shots? Desk and field are worlds apart.”
This skepticism felt nostalgic.
Open distrust, not just doubt.
With lives on the line, a non-hunter’s orders naturally rang hollow.
Kang Moo-hyuk ignored the veiled contempt in their eyes and acknowledged the lead hunter.
“Pungnim Guild’s Go Yu-han, right? Naturally, on-site orders go to you, Hunter Go.”
“Huh? You know me?”
Of course. He had dossiers on draft prospects and mid-tier guild key hunters.
“Sure. Second round, ninth pick in last year’s draft. I’d been eyeing your potential too. Shame A-rank guilds have entry limits—we missed our chance. Must’ve grown even more since; I regret it.”
Not a lie. Not the full truth either.
Solid checked out, but agility flaws distanced him from Kang Moo-hyuk’s ideal multi-tank.
If truly wanted, contact would’ve predated the draft.
Flattery without a drop of spit, and Go Yu-han flushed, at a loss.
He dropped his firm tone from moments ago, mumbling awkwardly.
“Nah, not that much… haha…”
Second-year post-official training. Early-20s guy who dodged service via awakening. Zero social savvy.
Hunter skill aside, business naivety inevitable.
Even from a non-hunter A-rank strategist, praise danced on a prideful hunter’s strings.
The rest, unlike Go Yu-han, were freelancers.
Day laborers, politely put—contract gigs.
Mid-tier guild hunter melting at words left freelancers baffled, glaring at him.
No rank divide among hunters, but guilds and ranks screamed status.
Go Yu-han held the clearest badge here.
With the rep hunter grinning dopily, others’ voices faded naturally.
As they hesitated to butt in, Kang Moo-hyuk pressed.
“Kang Moo-hyuk here. Time’s short—starting left, profiles first.”
No room for rebuttal. Hunters checked watches, swallowed protests, and spoke.
“Seo Su-ji. Third year. C- rank. Dealer position, bow weapon.”
“Lee Cheol-jin. Fourth year. C+ rank. Sub-tank position, strength-focused with shield and one-hand axe. Hunting style: pulling and delivery. Aggro handoff solid, confident as main-tank support.”
“Go Yu-han. Second year, B-. Main tank. Body’s rock-solid.”
“Yu Tae-jin. Eighth year. B- rank. Dealer. Agility-focused. Dual short daggers. Short but stabs deep—no worries. Can scout too, FYI.”
Kang Moo-hyuk memorized profiles, formed a formation.
Two B-ranks made it decent for a ragtag party of four—but numbers capped it.
“No heroics. Safety first, always. Our role: citizen evac and blocking only. Block vanguard mobs from the city without overextending till support arrives.”
“Ugh! Tough gig for no pay.”
“Freelancers, I’ll vouch for national service points. Focus on command—no worries.”
Kang Moo-hyuk dismissed Seo Su-ji’s gripe, stomping the case handle on the ground.
It popped open, revealing gear.
“What’s this?”
No words—demo time.
Wide square panel, vintage radio slotted in, antenna extended.
Slung crossbody like a bag. Heavy tilt, but movable.
“On-site orders: Go Yu-han. Overall command: me. This is Titan gear for outbreak comms.”
“Whoa! That exists?”
“A-rank’s on another level.”
Hunters marveled.
Outbreaks jammed nearby comms.
Why outbreaks sucked: unknown mobs, plus comms blackout crippling wide or complex sites.
Telepaths fine; tin-can hunters burdened.
‘Glad I didn’t return this—vice-guild master distraction was divine.’
Kang Moo-hyuk carried C Warehouse gear everywhere. Prepped for demo anytime, believing big days ahead.
Didn’t expect outbreak.
Pulling his smartphone:
“Phones out. Guild app installed, log in personal for freelancers. Made party chat—pass 0321. Switch voice. Channel: ‘titan1’.”
Wireless earbuds in. Others followed; some lacked.
“Speaker fine. Aa! A! Hear me?”
“Hmm. Smartphone linking in gate env? Must-have.”
Veteran Yu Tae-jin clocked utility first.
Freelancers nodded. Go Yu-han, telepath, less thrilled.
‘Clunky. Why when I’ve got skills? Hunters look ridiculous.’
Kang Moo-hyuk read him but skipped explaining. Use it, get it. Group simultaneity beat one-on-one telepathy. Drop pride, see value.
“Prototype: 300m radius. Stay in range; fall back if cut.”
Command dropped—watches beeped. Hunters’ too.
“Current time: 13:29. Mission starts now.”