219. I'm Not Here to Hear Praise
Oort Cloud.
Among North American hunters, it was commonly shortened to O.C.
The Oort Cloud was originally a hypothetical celestial formation of dust and ice enveloping the outermost edges of the solar system like a shell.
Known as the origin of long-period comets that orbited the sun once every 200 years or more—far faster than typical short-period comets.
There were all sorts of rumors about why the organization, formed by freelance hunters banding together into official raid clans, had been named after something straight out of an astronomy textbook.
Some said the founder had been an astronomer, others that a stargazing fanatic of a freelance hunter had come up with it.
No one knew the exact origin of the name, but the reason behind the O.C. abbreviation was fairly well-documented.
“Freelance hunters are no different from the dust and ice in the Oort Cloud. Useless. But even among ice and dust, every now and then, something pops out. And those comets that emerge? They're especially fast, and when they smash into something, they make a huge impact. The O.C. founder wanted this organization to be a place where such talents could emerge. Not a dumping ground for worthless freelance losers.”
James Ulvert, head of O.C.'s Los Angeles branch, was lecturing the two new raid leaders who'd just joined the organization about its founding principles.
The cramped office felt packed with just the three burly hunters inside, but the atmosphere was more solemn than in any major guild headquarters.
Ulvert perched on the edge of his empty desk, looking down at the two hunters squeezed into creaky old chairs that looked like they might snap at any moment.
“There are two things you new brothers need to remember. First, live by O.C.'s ideals: hunt hard, grow strong, and become the best hunters you can be. Second, now that you're in O.C., no more embarrassing freelance bullshit.”
“What embarrassing shit are we supposed to do?”
One of the hunters, chomping away on gum, shot back.
Ulvert grabbed both his cheeks in one massive hand. The hunter had no chance to dodge, his face suddenly mashed together as he flailed in panic and protest—but with his mouth sealed by the palm, his words came out muffled.
As the hunter, burning with shame and fear, started to summon his power to fight back, Ulvert pointed to the wall behind him with a warning growl.
Killing intent laced his voice.
“You see that?”
A single framed picture hung alone on the wall. Inside the frame was a drawing: a deep navy circle ringed by a band, with O.C. emblazoned in the center—the Oort Cloud logo.
“That's O.C.'s symbol. No gum-chewing under it. No smoking. That's basic courtesy. And for anyone who can't show courtesy? I'll personally demonstrate what embarrassing really means. Got it?”
The hunter dispersed his building power and nodded frantically. The other one, who'd been sitting quietly, gulped and bobbed his head under Ulvert's suddenly fierce glare.
“Good. Now spit out the gum.”
Ulvert released his face, and the hunter spat the gum into his own hand in a hurry.
'I let my guard down because he seemed so gentlemanly at first. This guy's the infamous O.C. zealot!'
In that brief moment, the hunter had felt Ulvert's overwhelming strength firsthand.
A+ versus A rank.
It wasn't just the one-rank difference. Even within the same rank, total combat power varied wildly based on traits, skills, and item grades.
The hunter was certain that even if he reached A+ rank himself, he still couldn't take Ulvert.
That was how vast the gap between them was.
“What're you waiting for? You heard everything—get out. No slacking just because you're freelancers. Hunt hard, like I said.”
With Ulvert's dismissal, the two hunters bolted from the room. He turned back to the O.C. logo, bowed solemnly, and muttered,
“Today, too, I've reformed some lost young souls. In O.C.'s name, I pray those two avoid trouble and reach S-rank. And that they make enough from hunts to cover their dues...”
“Branch Chief!”
“I said no interrupting prayers, Billy!”
Billy Johnbuck burst through the door. He was the only subordinate Ulvert tolerated interrupting his prayers.
Of course, even with permission, Billy never abused it. He only interrupted for truly urgent matters. Knowing that, Ulvert dropped the reprimand and finished his prayer.
“What's so urgent?”
“Message from Las Vegas.”
“What about it? Someone get drunk, blow their cash at the tables, and trash the place? They didn't level a casino, did they?”
“Ever since Roadkill Clan pulled that stunt and you smashed them, no one's caused trouble there.”
“Then why interrupt my prayer?”
“Ever heard of Rider Wolves?”
“Yeah, on the news. Some Eastern outfit's breeding them, right?”
“From Korea.”
“Right, there. So what?”
“The guild exec handling the Rider Wolf business showed up in Las Vegas.”
Billy emphasized it with a meaningful look, but Ulvert's reaction was lukewarm.
“Not surprised?”
“Why would I be? Probably on vacation.”
“Not vacation.”
“Then what? Here to sell wolves?”
“Exactly. They approached a San Diego guild, saying they're selling in the U.S. San Diego branch is scrambling now, negotiating if O.C. can import them.”
“What? San Diego?!”
Only then did Ulvert gasp in shock. He clenched his fists, trembling with rage.
“Not New York or Miami—why San Diego of all places? San Francisco, I'd almost understand... no, screw them too.”
Billy understood Ulvert's overreaction.
The three branch chiefs of Los Angeles, San Diego, and San Francisco were vying for California's overall director position.
Ulvert fumed.
“Las Vegas is right on our doorstep—why are they sniffing around?!”
“By that logic, Las Vegas is in Nevada. Carson City branch chief has first dibs...”
“What does that hick barely holding his own territory know? You think we manage the freelancers partying in Vegas casinos for nothing?”
“Fair, but pushing territorial rights like that could cause issues. Rumor is Carson City's chief is eyeing a move to a major city too.”
“Everyone's desperate. Ignoring jurisdictions just to snag a spot. Anyway, you didn't come empty-handed, right? Got the exec's details? Hotel they're staying at?”
“Well...”
“What? You don't know?”
“Basic info like name and affiliation, yeah. But their lodging? No dice. The Korean exec's got a seriously skilled hunter with them. Our tails got caught, disarmed, and knocked out. San Diego's guys too, apparently.”
Ulvert looked baffled.
'They preemptively struck just for tailing? Without even IDing our affiliation? Overkill response? Means this deal's highly confidential. Must be big.'
The O.C. agents dispatched to Las Vegas were Ulvert's handpicked best—rich in pursuit skills and raid recon experience. Some were even A-rank. Getting taken down meant the opposition was far stronger. Definitely A+.
“Where in Vegas did they shake them?”
“You going yourself?”
“Delegate this, and the bread burns while we're baking. Gotta handle it fast myself. California's state master retires soon. Miss this, who knows when the next shot comes.”
“On it right away.”
“Get the intel. I'm heading out now. Rally your guys. Call in everyone off-duty.”
At that same moment, as O.C.'s LA branch scrambled into action.
Kang Moo-hyuk had returned to LA. And waiting for him there was,
“Pleasure to meet you. I'm Kayren Fisher, general manager of Gunpowder Guild.”
A top exec from one of LA's premier major guilds.
“Cut all the tails, and you still tracked me this fast. Impressive.”
“Paths from Vegas to LA are predictable.”
“You assumed I'd hole up here?”
“Word's spreading. Deal with a San Diego guild. Vegas rubs their locals the wrong way—too many freelance hunters and villains stirring shit. Better to meet in LA.”
“Smart call.”
“Hope showing up unannounced isn't rude. Pray this proves a good judgment too.”
Kang Moo-hyuk had brought Fisher to a special suite rigged for confidential talks.
Top-tier accommodations, plus facilities blocking detection skills.
Only after Jang Deok-gu and No Song-rin swept the room and gave the all-clear did Kang Moo-hyuk offer Fisher a seat.
“So, you came for a reason. What's the business?”
“I looked into you, Raid Leader Kang Moo-hyuk. Quite the reputation.”
“I'm not making time just to hear praise. This room costs a fortune. To break even, you better bring something worthwhile.”
“As you guessed: Rider Wolves. Sell to us. We'll pay top dollar—better than those San Diego scrubs.”
Kang Moo-hyuk's face hardened into a cold mask. It looked like utter distaste.
But it was deliberate acting. Internally, he was rapidly calculating the situation.
'I dropped San Diego mentions in LA and Vegas on purpose. But the rivalry between those spots sounds fiercer than Aila described.'
Kang Moo-hyuk had gotten the lowdown on LA's hunter scene from Aila before heading stateside.
He'd built plans around it, but this reaction was quicker than expected. Meant they were anxious.
He decided to squeeze a bit harder.
“Telling me to fold before even meeting my business partner? Hunter world's got no business ethics, sure—but ignoring industry norms? Pisses me off.”
“Where ethics are absent, money piles up. Norms shift with who grabs it best. Few U.S. guilds can properly value Rider Wolves right now. In LA? Gunpowder's your only option.”
Kang Moo-hyuk sneered deliberately.
“LA's got plenty bigger than Gunpowder. Call My Name Guild or Ithaca Guild, for starters.”