224. Something's a Bit Off
Hank. Report the current situation.
"Three Asians in the cafe. One's an unfamiliar face, another is Kang Moo-hyuk, and the last one's hanging back in the shadows—probably his guard, No Song-rin."
-Is it the same guy, or are you sure it's No Song-rin? Be precise.
"To me, all Asian faces look pretty much the same. I pegged him as No Song-rin 'cause he looks like a mean-tempered, irritable bastard."
-According to the entry report, No Song-rin's an A-rank hunter. Don't approach. Keep your distance from any surveillance points.
"Already on it. I'm holed up in a blind spot on the rooftop of the building across the street."
-Do you see Mr. Jang anywhere?
"Not in my line of sight for now."
-He's an A+-rank hunter. Stay extra vigilant.
"Pfft, they're just bumpkins from a backwater hunter nation. Come on, does it even make sense to stick an A+-rank as a bodyguard for some regular guy? Even if he's a guild master or whatever. If it were me, I'd refuse out of pride alone."
Hank, who'd been reporting in a clipped, professional tone until now, shot back with disbelief. It was because A+-ranks were such rare commodities.
No matter the country, but especially in America, they were positions that commanded wealth and fame.
If their trait was in the top 1% to boot, it was the icing on the cake.
The hunter file on "Mr. Jang" that Hank had received didn't list trait details, but judging from his history of hunting villains, it was clear he was no joke.
Plus, the special notes mentioned he was the master who'd trained Korea's one and only S-rank hunter, Joo Se-ah. All the more reason to watch him closely.
-For now, stay sharp and secure a photo of the unidentified Asian. He might be from another guild making contact.
"Got it. I'll message it over as soon as I have it. Over."
Hank cut the comms and turned to his partner.
"Rick, grab the camera and snap a pic of the last guy's face."
"……."
"Hey, didn't you hear me? The photo—"
"These pests just keep crawling out no matter how many I squash."
A deep, unfamiliar bass voice rumbled, and Rick's body crumpled beside him.
"!!"
Hank snatched the sword leaning against the wall and whipped around.
The blade's tip pointed at empty air.
"Whether Korea or America, hunters pull the same crap."
The low voice came from behind again.
Hank launched forward, rolling across the rooftop in a tumble. Once he'd put distance between them, he scanned the direction of the voice while keeping his weapon trained ahead.
"You... you're... "
A man leaned against the rooftop railing, back turned. He was staring down at the cafe Hank had been watching, from the exact same vantage.
The man didn't spare Hank a glance. But Hank couldn't move a muscle. Instinct screamed that attacking or fleeing would be pointless. No—the moment he recognized the face, he gave up resisting.
Jang Deok-gu... How the hell did he sneak up like that? I didn't even notice Rick go down.
Jang Deok-gu toed the sprawled Rick with his boot and turned.
"Just knocked him out."
Jang Deok-gu sheathed his drawn sword, then flipped open Rick's jacket. He patted the inner pocket and deftly fished out a wallet, flicking it upward.
Peering inside, he smirked.
"O.C. this time, huh? Slick move. We shook you in Vegas, and here you are again. LA really your turf?"
The wallet's leather was embossed with O.C. initials. It was so blatant, Hank wondered if it was deliberate misdirection.
But watching their covert surveillance, they hadn't seemed like guild hunters—more like freelancers.
That was Jang Deok-gu's assessment before stepping in, and now solid proof had surfaced, so he dropped the suspicion.
Not that it mattered if they were O.C. or not. They wouldn't glean any intel from here today anyway.
That idiot. I told him not to carry anything that outs us. Who brings their 10th anniversary membership wallet on a stakeout?!
Hank swallowed dryly, cursing Rick's carelessness inwardly.
"What're you gonna do with me?"
"What do you think? No need to beef with O.C. But I can't let you mess with our guild master's business either. Just take a nap."
"Sorry, but I'm on the payroll. Sleeping on the job—"
Hank couldn't finish.
Jang Deok-gu had closed in silently, striking his wrist to disarm him. Before the pain registered, the scabbard's tip slammed his solar plexus. His lungs seized like they'd been pierced, breath cut off. Then a chop to the nape, and consciousness faded.
Jang Deok-gu sighed, shaking his head at the mess.
"Just stepped out for coffee, and seven tails? Feels like we're in a spy flick."
Including Hank and Rick, Jang Deok-gu had neutralized seven watchers this way.
Of the first five, two were from Gunpowder Guild, one from Vegas, and the other two from the East Coast.
Except for the Gunpowder duo who'd shown up in blatant guild armor coats, the rest three—like Rick—carried nothing revealing their affiliation.
But they were leagues below Jang Deok-gu in rank. A taste of the interrogation tricks he used on villains had them spilling everything.
Without that O.C. wallet, he'd have used the same on these two.
Rubbing his ear irritably at the grating voice in his mind, Jang Deok-gu replied.
"What? Why'd you cut off?"
The message link with No Song-rin severed abruptly.
Jang Deok-gu waited a beat, then tried sending again.
That's when—
Boom!
Something exploded across the street.
He leaned over the railing fast. It was the cafe where Kang Moo-hyuk had been.
"Damn... No quiet days."
Jang Deok-gu vaulted straight off the rooftop.
* * *
Kang Moo-hyuk handed Thomas the leather pouch.
"Take a look."
At Kang Moo-hyuk's urging, Thomas swallowed hard and cautiously opened it. Inside were ten violet-liquid ampoules, bundled in sets.
"Refined ampoules. Tough material—won't break easily—but handle with care."
"Handle...? You're giving these to me right now?"
"Not a perfect cure. Strictly temporary. For real treatment, head to Korea. No clinical data here, so exact duration's unknown, but while it lasts, you'll wield your abilities free of mana addiction symptoms."
Thomas was dumbfounded. Cure or not, Kang Moo-hyuk's generosity was off the charts.
This was the first real hope Thomas had found. As a hunter, he knew hope's true value all too well.
Hunters weren't just popular for the wealth and fame—they sold hope.
A ray of light shielding humanity from the monster apocalypse.
Thomas had always seen hunters that way. So he knew the price hope demanded in return.
Slave to Ithaca Guild or slave to Iron Will.
Kang Moo-hyuk could've demanded servitude outright, and he'd have accepted.
But just handing it over?
As Thomas wrestled with the whirlwind in his chest, Kang Moo-hyuk continued.
"Of course, it's still a hypothesis. Suppressing symptoms doesn't guarantee unsealing your full potential. But at least rank-ups won't be blocked by the illness. Even without instant gains, you can grind hunts and training to climb ranks."
"Could I... try one now?"
"Right now? No outbreak yet."
"I'm pushing my limits already. Last hunt wrecked me. My doc's patching symptoms with whatever, but it's a time bomb."
"Explains the pallor. Recent flare-up, huh."
"Yes. So, safe to use immediately?"
"Go ahead. It's yours now. I'm curious about the effects myself."
Kang Moo-hyuk inwardly cheered at Thomas's eagerness.
Effects are solid. What I use is diluted from this stock. No clue how it'll hit a hunter, but one dose, and he'll have no choice but to take my terms.
He wasn't some saint gifting suppressants out of pure altruism. There was calculation. Mana syndrome was his monopoly anyway—better to start generous.
"How do I use it? Drink?"
"Ampoule is the injector. Laser-style, no needle. Press the back against your arm."
Kang Moo-hyuk demonstrated briefly with one.
Thomas rolled up his sleeve and followed suit. Pressing the button sent a hot sting into his skin. The violet liquid vanished into him in a flash.
Warmth bloomed through his forearm, racing up his shoulder to his heart. It pulsed with his blood, flooding his body in seconds.
His eyes burned. Dizziness hit, then a throbbing headache.
As he clutched his forehead and stared at the floor, Kang Moo-hyuk spoke.
"Mild side effects like headache or nausea possible. Vision might black out—don't panic. Close your eyes, deep breaths; it'll pass."
Thomas followed, eyes shut, inhaling deeply.
Each breath drove something deep inside. Cool yet hot, crisp and invigorating.
He recognized it instantly.
Mana.
"!!"
When his eyes snapped open, the world was mana.
Mana surged everywhere.
"Th-this... "
Thomas couldn't speak. Bile surged; he clapped a hand over his mouth. Dark red blood coated his palm.
"Is this normal? Blood... hack!"
He vomited more; Kang Moo-hyuk jumped up to support him.
"Hunter Thomas! You okay? Hold on. I have meds for side effects—"
Kang Moo-hyuk cut off, reeling back. Scorching heat erupted from Thomas's crown.
"Something's... a bit off, Guild Master Kang... "
Thomas looked up. Kang Moo-hyuk gasped.
Sensing the reaction, Thomas asked.
"Wh-what's wrong?"
"Hunter Thomas... your eyes... "
Golden irises stared back.
The moment Thomas realized—
"Huh?"
Wind whipped around them.
BOOM!