No More Being Pushed Around
Kevin Cock, the governor, mulled over Hamilton's proposal. He suspected some ulterior motive.
But Hamilton had no reason to fly all the way to California just to hatch a conspiracy. Their standoff with the president had been going on for ages, and lately they'd been keeping things civil and distant.
There was a presidential election in two years, sure, but Kevin hadn't even stepped up as the party's nominee yet. It was way too early for any machinations.
Besides, Hamilton wasn't the type to gamble with American lives.
The president put Hamilton in that position because of his loyalty—not to people, but to the nation and its citizens. He won't bend to any outside pressure, which is key to getting reforms done. No way he'd waste a guy like that on scheming against one rival. So, does that mean Hamilton's words are genuine?
After deep deliberation, Kevin came to a decision.
"If things in LA are that urgent, we can move on this end too. But there's a prerequisite."
"What's that?"
"We need solid intel on the raid target. If we invoke emergency powers for a raid and it turns out to be no big deal, that's great for the public—but a huge embarrassment for me. Launching this with a declaration of war on the White House only for it to fizzle into a joke? That'd be a problem."
"You need confirmation before committing."
"Send in a scouting party to the hive. We have to justify the emergency declaration. Once the evidence is ironclad, we'll move right away."
Kang Moo-hyuk heard the governor's response from Hamilton and put him at ease.
"That's standard procedure. The situation's dire, but we can't charge into a raid without intel."
"The guild analysts agree, and so do I—we're likely dealing with fifth-gen already. Telling them not to worry based on that analysis feels downright weird."
Grasping Hamilton's intent, Kang Moo-hyuk sought confirmation.
"You're handing over raid command?"
"This is America. Handing a city-defining raid to a foreigner? That could bite us later."
The best option would have been to rally LA's hunters under a unifying figure.
But the major guild masters had already lost all credibility. Instead, they could substitute with someone of even greater authority.
Hamilton had wanted to call in an S-rank from Super S, but the White House nixed it.
The current president was dead set on reining in the supranational organization that overshadowed the nation.
The more they begged for help, the weaker the government's position became. The desperate side couldn't dictate terms, and their influence would erode over time. Reforms would slip further away.
Hamilton didn't care about power games when lives were at stake, but without top-level approval, he couldn't reach out to Super S.
Then, an S-rank hunter—foreigner or not—showed up in LA at the perfect moment. Hunters paid respect to any S-rank who wasn't a villain, nationality be damned. Even enemies acknowledged their skill and stature as an unspoken rule.
With Joo Se-ah volunteering as raid leader, there was no grounds for objection.
"You've set the table, so I'll dig right in without hesitation."
Kang Moo-hyuk rushed raid preparations, but things didn't go as smoothly as he'd hoped.
The city was unprepared and in chaos, so guild cooperation was lukewarm at best. To top it off, word of the unique item leaked. The source? Gunpowder Guild.
"Isn't your guild security a bit lax, Guild Master Dwight?"
The too-easy admission only fueled Kang Moo-hyuk's suspicions.
They leaked it on purpose.
Exposing greed for the unique item made their motives obvious without looking.
Trying to check the guild master?
Raw power couldn't challenge an S-rank. So they'd drag it into a loot-share dispute...
Guild Master secures three unique items: one goes to Gunpowder; two secured, all other loot to them.
At first glance, it seemed a raw deal for Gunpowder, sinking manpower and funds.
But without an S-rank, the raid was doomed from the start. Solo attempts would rack up casualties, per the analysts' predictions.
Global raid precedents showed S-ranks got concessions.
They're betting three is impossible. Handing over all unique items would sting too much.
Hence the ploy: leak info to rope in Call My Name Guild.
Normally, pulling stunts in front of an S-rank would be risky, but this was American soil.
Joo Se-ah wasn't officially invited; she was here on personal business.
No prior loot agreements meant plenty of wiggle room for rushed negotiations.
They'd leverage international treaty clauses on spoils.
'Conquerors get priority, but if not locals, divide by contribution.' Contribution's vague as hell. Smart play.
Sure enough, Call My Name expressed interest.
With the "saving lives" angle, rejecting them outright wasn't feasible. It'd taint Kang Moo-hyuk's cause instantly, breeding non-cooperation.
Reluctantly, he accepted, then confronted Gunpowder—not to punish, but to warn against repeats.
They got the hint, apologized smoothly, and tried to smooth it over. Kang Moo-hyuk let it slide.
"What's done is done. The real issue is the rumors spreading everywhere now. Gunpowder and Call My Name need to seal those entrances tight. Word's twisting, and mid/small guilds and freelancers are flooding underground."
They'd do their best but shoulder no blame—a classic dodge.
America, the land of lawsuits, had lawyers for every hunter. Freelancers weren't exempt; tangling legally was a headache. Some joked it'd be easier to bury problems than fight in court. Explained the world's highest hunter disappearance rate.
At least they track stats here. Silver lining?
Aware of the realities, Kang Moo-hyuk shelved it.
"Do what you can. Also, clear the tunnels near entrances before the raid."
Taking his silence as acceptance, Dwight pivoted to raid plans.
"Thirty elites each from both guilds, plus Iron Will's party. Simultaneous strikes from three directions, targeting the core."
"Evolved queen bees are smart. Per other raid cases, lure deep, encircle. Prep sturdy tanks; mages need heavy firepower."
"Rest finalizes post-scout intel. Briefing then."
Hanging up, Kang Moo-hyuk felt bone-deep fatigue.
A nap helped, but as a non-hunter, last night's grind had taken its toll.
And now, mind games with American hunters. Mental exhaustion hit harder than physical.
If I could just stack an all-S-rank party, no politics, straight solve. Same everywhere—everyone guards their rice bowl.
Who knew when paths would cross again? Unilateral moves were taboo. Share the bowl moderately for future smiles.
Kang Moo-hyuk always sought win-wins. But urgency bred frustration.
Once this wraps, build a rapid-response system ASAP. No more getting pushed around.
"So, kill the queen bee, snag a unique item?"
"What've you even heard? Not snag—get crafting materials for one."
"Same diff. Crafting or not, you know how pricey? Life-changing cash none of us could touch in years."
Dozens of hunters buzzed at the party leader's words.
Not a gate—natural dungeon. First come, first served.
Those carnivorous wasps last night? Numbers, sure, but weak. Rapid evos, half-baked. We can handle 'em.
Finally, my big break!
Hastily assembled, but California hunting ground vets with a community for tips. Jackpot hit.
The strongest, most experienced quickly formed the party.
Nearly fifty, gear rivaling mid-tier guild hunters—prime freelancers. Raid-viable, they figured.
"Halt!"
The lead first-party leader raised a fist. The tunnel-stretched party ground to a halt slowly.
"What?"
The second-line party leader pushed forward.
First leader jaw-nodded ahead.
"Tunnel ends. Open space."
Party leader scanned the dark void with detection skill. Narrow path widened, walls vanished.
"Barely any wasps down, and we're at the bottom?"
"That swarm last night emptied the hive. Lucky path, though."
"Just queen and guards left, then."
"Prep. Nab it quick before others, party time."
Big score in sight, party leader stayed cool. Sent a search-skilled hunter first to check threats.
Clear report, then advance. Formed up immediately: five-per-party, ten parties in three ranks. Classic 4-3-3 frontload. Aerial foes, so tanks sprinkled across, air-attack hunters thick in second row.
Formation solid, they moved.
"Advance."
Party exploited the space, surging forward together.
"Hey, tenth party! Move your asses! Simultaneous, like we said!"
Second-row central sixth-party leader barked at the laggards.
No response despite the order.
"These punks. First hunt? Who's tenth leader? Show your face—where you from?"
Party leader amped detection, strode toward tenth.
Then, odd sounds.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
Steps froze. Goosebumps prickled arms. Experience screamed warning. Danger instinct flashed.
Boosted detection revealed tenth party.
Wasps chewing five hunters' heads.
"W-wasps... why do they look like th..."
Party leader trailed off.
Silent shadow snatched his head in one bite. No scream. Small mercy: others spotted the ambush.
"Stalkers!"
Soundless assassins. Deadliest monsters. Carnivorous wasps dove silently.
"Lighting sk—urk!"
"Tanks—!"
Late lighting orb lit the chamber.
Hunters back-to-back, weapons raised skyward—froze.
Carnivorous wasps clinging to the ceiling.
Different from last night's foes.
No time to spot how. Numbers horrified them.
"Still this many...?"
No answers.
Shhh!
Wasps unfurled wings in unison.
Orb winked out soon after. Hunters' lights followed, forever.