228. It's Getting Hard to Just Let This Slide.
Hamilton felt his anger rising, but he kept his composure and spoke evenly.
"Guild Leader Kang. I hear you're Korea's first non-hunter guild leader. And still in your thirties. Climbing that high at your age must mean you've been nonstop busy, right? Is that why? You just can't seem to stop."
Hamilton's gentlemanly demeanor from moments ago twisted into something ugly. Even his tone shifted.
"I used to be CIA. Field agent. So why's a spook like me stuck behind a desk at the White House?"
"Beats me. To cool your temper?"
Kang Moo-hyuk replied in a voice just as icy.
"Haha, that's a novel take. No one's ever said that crap to my face and lived to tell about it. But since we're talking old jobs, let's wrap up the chit-chat. Here's the point: are hunters the only ones who deal with hunters?"
Hunters deal with hunters.
Anyone in this world knew that line, so Hamilton's question implied there was more to it.
Kang Moo-hyuk answered without hesitation.
"The system. Less 'dealing with' and more 'controlling' them, I'd say."
"You get it."
"It's my daily grind."
"Fair enough. A regular person wrangling hotheaded hunters needs that kind of foresight."
"So what's your point?"
"I've seen plenty of nations collapse while I was at the CIA. And it wasn't just us watching. Hunters saw it too. Even superhumans know that if the world's order crumbles, there's no peace for them either. Ironically, that makes hunters both destroyers and guardians of order. They can make or break a nation's system. You can't handle types like that with a bureaucrat's mindset—you won't last. That's why my predecessors burned out fast. It's why I'm parked in this coffin called the Hunter Policy Division."
"Still not following. You're not sending funeral invites early, are you?"
"Funeral invites? Come on... I just wanted to explain at length that I'm not the talking type. Some people never listen unless you spell it out."
"Ah? Should've led with that. So this is a threat. Don't listen, and you're done. But you're White House, so no bullet to the head. More elegantly put: heavy sanctions?"
"Do I look like I'm here to persuade? I flashed the White House card, sure. But I'm not here in that capacity today. Get it?"
Only then did Kang Moo-hyuk notice the shadow lurking behind Hamilton and where it led.
"You're here as a proxy? For those ranchers out east."
"Lobbyists don't exist for show. Plenty to handle before rumors hit the political circles. Today, I'm here as a middleman, not White House."
Hamilton swapped masks in an instant, reverting to his original expression and tone.
Kang Moo-hyuk shifted gears just as smoothly, unfazed by the dual personality.
"Mr. Hamilton. I'm just a regular guy running a small guild in a backwater hunter country. Wolves are all I've got—no other cards. Not worth the hardball."
"Maybe. But you're no ordinary regular."
"Like the S-rank thing."
"Guild Leader Joo Se-ah hit S-rank because she's that good, not because of me."
"No, not her. Sim Wol."
"Sim who?"
"You know, that S-rank from China's Nakil Guild."
"Oh, that Sim Wol?"
"A regular thinking of taking down an S-rank. And not just thinking—you pulled it off. Not something anyone can do."
"Misunderstanding."
Kang Moo-hyuk played dumb. No evidence left behind. Just speculation.
Or is it really just guesswork?
With Joo Se-ah hitting S-rank, the hunter superpower USA naturally investigated her circle.
They might've caught wind of the Sim Wol plot in the process.
Teamed up with the Tyrant, so maybe it leaked from Russia.
Even that would be hearsay, but better than thin air. Maybe he was probing now.
"Hunter Sim Wol heroically fell fighting a dragon—a Chinese hero."
"That's the story. Made me curious when the announcement dropped. How'd you sell that to the Huanglong Guild?"
"I keep telling you, I'm a small guild's salaried boss. S-ranks aren't pets I can snap my fingers at."
"That know-how must cost a fortune, huh? Fine, save it for later fun. Too long a prologue—let's wrap this. Hold off on pushing Rider Wolves west."
"Steal scraps from mid-tiers if you want. America's hospitality sucks. Fine. League involvement makes it awkward, I get it. I'll yield. Want it in writing?"
"You don't leave evidence. Nah. This business runs on trust."
"True. No need for paper trails when crossing a White House power player means fallout you can't handle."
"Good. Deal's done. I'll trust you, Guild Leader."
Hamilton rose. Kang Moo-hyuk raised a hand to stop him.
"Leaving empty-handed? Let's play a new hand."
"New hand?"
"You do lobbying sometimes. More clients the better, right?"
"Huh?"
"Eastern guilds plus Dragon Horse. World Hunter Federation plus Rider Wolves. Snag a western hegemon on the sly—sounds perfect."
"Been a while since it got interesting."
Hamilton sat back down, sensing a longer negotiation ahead.
* * *
"Deeper than expected."
Powel nodded at Grant's words.
"And longer."
The tunnel twisted so much it was hard to track direction. No clue how far they'd gone, but they'd left Skid Row behind for sure.
"Digging this takes more than dozens. Not a one- or two-day job."
"Ants? New venomous breed."
"Not quite ants. They've shredded the city underbelly, but the ground's holding. Check the walls—hardened like concrete."
"Add that trait to the DB run."
"Might be undocumented. Want to bag one if we can. At least see its face."
Worry clouded the hunters' faces.
Not just unknown potential. Massive swarm possible too.
No hunter short of S-rank beats human wave tactics.
In tight tunnels, encircled...
Horrifying just thinking about it.
Grant kept searching, hiding his dread.
Suggest retreat to stubborn Powel? Futile, just earn resentment. Especially after rallying with chants—backing out first kills face.
"Shh."
Lead Powel pressed a finger to his lips.
Midline hunter smartly dropped his lighting skill.
Pitch black engulfed the tunnel. Darkvision kicked in; soon they saw by green glow.
Something rustled at the tunnel's end, crawling. Shape too vague for ID.
Hunters crouched, eyes straining.
Wings?
Faint, but definitely wings on its back.
Burrowers with wings? Wait, some ant monsters have 'em. Ants after all?
Closer look: tailing something pupa-like.
Prey. Ants confirmed?
Powel messaged quietly.
Grant directed hunters to execute.
Stealth-mover approached carefully. Speedster waited.
Stealth strike—speedster pounced.
Double assault. Shouts mixed with monster screech. Echoes bounced off hard walls.
Over quick. Twin victory yells.
"What? Why the freakout? Light it up."
Powel neared the limp prey.
Light flared. Powel groaned at the sight.
"Not ants."
Twice human-sized, winged. Dark brown hide, antennae, serrated jaws. Segmented body screamed insect.
Tail stinger too.
Powel knew it. Never faced one—none from US gates. Rare elsewhere, but Africa bled worst.
US gov shared intel, classified danger.
"Damn. This... it's getting hard to just let this slide."
Chased from illegal brewery—reporting awkward.
Real issue: what they used it for. Guild-shaking. Couldn't reveal discovery casually.
Weeeeng!
No time. Faint wing hum.
"You idiots!"
Powel smashed the pinned head. Hum stopped.
"Should've finished it clean!"
"S-sorry."
"Panicked 'cause not ants..."
Powel raised fist. Grant intervened.
"Not the issue. Sensitive to sounds. Signaled mates. Soon..."
Grant trailed off.
Surging wingbeats from afar.
"Retreat! Grant, lead! I'll rear guard!"
* * *
"BTA! BTA! BTA!"
The concert blazed hot.
Mid-program surging to finale—electric vibe.
Fans and idols merged in frenzy; cheers leaked outside.
Talk break: Go Eul-ji clutched her dizzy head, whispering to Kim Nari.
"Nari, I could die happy today."
"No way. Got tomorrow's tickets too. Die after."
"Right, almost jinxed it."
Talk ended. Next stage.
-Next up from this album. For you!
Piano intro, soft vocals. Members sang parts; fans chorused back.
Cooled the heat. Next track exploded.
Dance banger, syncopated stage. Screams shredded air.
"Waaaaah!"
"BTA!"
"Kyaaaah!"
!!
Then Go Eul-ji sensed discord in the crowd.
What the...?