#289. I'm Not Going.
“Legacy...”
After spitting out those words, Han Byung-gu's mouth stayed shut as if it had been sealed tight.
Undeterred by the man's reaction, Kang Moo-hyuk pressed on.
“Association Chairman, it's been ages since an S-rank hunter was born. And that hunter's staking their life on wiping out monsters, just like the seniors from way back. On top of that, the guild she's guild master of is right there with her, following her lead.”
Han Byung-gu stared straight ahead, but not really at Kang Moo-hyuk. His vision blurred. He looked lost in memories of the past.
Sensing as much, Kang Moo-hyuk nudged him along.
“You've seen the Korean hunter world's downfall up close, so you know. Even now, the neighboring countries don't want us rising up. They're too busy fighting monsters themselves, but instead of helping, they're dragging us down. To break through that, we need overwhelming power. Hunters, guilds, the whole system—everything has to leap ahead several steps. And to do that, we need to take stock of what we already have. That's the only way to spot the gaps.”
Finally, focus returned to Han Byung-gu's eyes. His mouth stayed shut, but Kang Moo-hyuk drove the point home.
“Miss this moment, and the chance is gone forever. So hand over what you've got. If it's just gonna rot, might as well give it to me.”
“You rascal, so that's your game! I knew you had a black heart, but I didn't expect you to come out and say it like this, you punk!”
“Tch, close but no cigar. Too pushy, maybe?”
“Close? Hell, I almost fell for it. Aigoo~!”
“So there is something, then?”
“Nothing, you fool. Not even if I were on my deathbed.”
Kang Moo-hyuk leaned in close, coaxing softly.
“Come on, just a little. You're the Hunter Association Chairman, after all. Show some mercy to a poor C-rank guild.”
“A guild with an S-rank calling itself C-rank?! Your nerve is worse than Se-ah's. You're one of a kind, you know that? Wait—why the hell are you still C-rank anyway? Haven't applied for promotion?”
“By current law, we're still C-rank, fair and square.”
“A guild with an S-rank is C-rank? What the—?”
“Guild law doesn't have any clauses about S-ranks. It's been so long since one's appeared, they haven't updated it.”
“Even if the law says so, that's ridiculous. You scheming something?”
“Scheming? Absolutely not. Though I have thought about dodging taxes and grabbing extra support funds.”
Kang Moo-hyuk scratched his head with an awkward grin.
But Han Byung-gu wasn't fooled by the innocent act.
This guy's not the type to sweat a few bucks. He must have plenty stashed from raiding Baekho Guild. And if Eul-ji's right, he's flush enough to push unique item crafting.
As Han Byung-gu's eyes sharpened, Kang Moo-hyuk changed tack.
“Come on, can't you bend a little? I'm not asking for something like the Dragon Scale Hairpin.”
“Of course not. Eul-ji's already in your guild—fish caught and reeled in.”
“No way. You know how much I treasure Hunter Go Eul-ji.”
“Her face going public this time? I'd sooner trust Slayer than you.”
“I'm way better than Slayer.”
“Six of one, half a dozen of the other, punk.”
Han Byung-gu snorted. Kang Moo-hyuk turned serious.
“I can prove we see Hunter Go Eul-ji as a key player in the guild.”
“Prove it?”
“Yeah. Check this out.”
Suddenly, Kang Moo-hyuk pulled out a folded paper and unfolded it.
“What's this?”
“Hunter Go Eul-ji's renewed contract. She's vital, so we locked in a full seven years, top-tier industry salary right here...”
“You bastard, worse than that Seong Seon-je!”
“Ouch, that stings.”
Han Byung-gu pounded his chest in frustration.
“Eul-ji, why'd you sign this? No, first off—you tricked an innocent kid, didn't you, Kang Moo-hyuk?”
“Trick? No one tricks with top-shelf terms like these. Salary adjustable anytime, fat performance bonuses. Guaranteed renewal on rank-up.”
“And this clause—contract term renews on every renewal?”
Han Byung-gu jabbed at the tiny print in the corner, bellowing.
Kang Moo-hyuk quickly folded it up.
“Hiding it won't help. My eyes are over 3.0. Where you gonna stash it?”
“At your age, you should have presbyopia. Hunters, huh.”
“Hand it over.”
“No wa—hunters, alright. When'd you snag it? It was in my hand a second ago.”
Han Byung-gu had already snatched Go Eul-ji's contract and tore it to shreds.
“Contract void!”
“No sweat. Got another.”
Kang Moo-hyuk unfolded another. Han Byung-gu grabbed and ripped it. Another appeared.
“Copies?”
“You think I'd bring originals? Trusting the chairman like that?”
“Burn your guild HQ to the ground?”
“Already notarized through legal.”
“Take back what I said about you being worse than Seong Seon-je.”
“Thanks.”
“You're worse than a ghost.”
Kang Moo-hyuk caught the emphasis—ghost wasn't the usual slang.
“Not talking about Japan's Kisins Take Ru, right?”
“Why not? Of course it's that bastard.”
Kang Moo-hyuk grimaced. Being compared to him rankled.
And for good reason. Kisins Take Ru was the one who'd brought the Korean hunter world to its knees during the Great War.
No hard proof, but all signs pointed to him. Anyone with a stake in Korean hunters despised the man.
They called him 'ghost' for ghosting enemies without mercy or morals. If the chairman's comparing me to him, he's seriously pissed. Time to wrap this up.
Kang Moo-hyuk set the contract copies on the table.
“Why'd I bring these?”
“What's to say? Obvious—you're holding our granddaughter hostage.”
“Skin her for info? Nah, no need. Just ask, and I'd get what I want.”
“Want me to rip out that silver tongue?”
“I said it before: overwhelming power. Untouchable power. Think one Go Eul-ji ends it?”
“...”
“Think bigger, longer term. Nothing says Korea can't have a dozen S-ranks like America.”
“If it were that easy, would I be sitting here?”
“Back then, zero. Now, not zero.”
Strength entered Kang Moo-hyuk's voice.
Han Byung-gu figured he was overconfident.
“S-rank's impressive, sure. But don't think one Se-ah changes everything. Japan's got three such monsters. China's eight—or seven, one died? Lucky they don't team up for their own gains, or we'd be dust already.”
“Exactly why we rig the board so we become one force. Too late after S-ranks pop up. Lay the groundwork now—that's how you catch the king.”
Han Byung-gu knew Kang Moo-hyuk wasn't one for empty talk. He was just resisting because he didn't like it.
“Hah, my ears aren't that soft.”
He pondered.
Can I entrust it to him?
Not lack of trust in Kang Moo-hyuk.
He'd called it a Great War legacy, and it was substantial enough for Han Byung-gu to agree.
He hadn't tapped it yet for lack of power to protect it. Hell, even Go Eul-ji—its biggest fruit—could only hide from Japanese eyes.
The Association's full strength went to blocking Japan's gaze, losing influence while branded a vegetable association.
Han Byung-gu had endured the tiger-without-teeth label, believing raising S-rank stock was worth it.
Now Kang Moo-hyuk wanted that burden.
“Won't ask how. But can you handle it?”
“That's why you've only raised Go Eul-ji hunter and nothing else.”
“If we judged by auxiliary particles, you'd have conquered the world by now.”
“If more hunters had my drive, monsters would've been wiped out already.”
Han Byung-gu shot to his feet. Kang Moo-hyuk, still seated, looked up.
“What're you sitting for? Follow me.”
“Where to?”
Kang Moo-hyuk hurried after.
“All over the countryside. Scattered everywhere—gonna need lots of legwork.”
Grabbing his coat to head out, Han Byung-gu paused with a question.
“Oh, and this is just curiosity from earlier. Why really stay C-rank?”
“That's a secret...”
“I'm not going.”
“...or not. I'll explain on the way.”
* * *
The car carrying Kang Moo-hyuk and Han Byung-gu left the highway for country roads.
The path into deep mountains turned to dirt. The scenery became a living ink painting.
Late autumn maples flashed by the window, but neither spared them a glance, deep in talk.
“So, mergers?”
“Yes. To expand the guild's reach, only way is merging solid mid-small guilds. Hit B-rank, and restrictions pile up.”
Han Byung-gu grasped the picture.
B-rank meant benefits with strings—prime example: merger guild laws.
Back then, B-ranks bloated via mergers hit A-rank without substance.
Size didn't mean skill. High gates and field boss raids exposed it.
Numbers couldn't cover weak skills—casualties mounted. Rank meant little without matching prowess.
Bloated guilds skipped basics, paid the price.
Kang Moo-hyuk aimed to merge strong ones pre-B-rank, building proper large-guild forces.
“Got targets in mind?”
“What, you gonna broker?”
“I'd chase you down to stop it.”
“Even if you offered, no thanks. You move, everyone notices—draws every spice-thrower out there.”
“Spice-throwers get pepper spray too...?”
“Pepper's too good for 'em.”
Kang Moo-hyuk hated interference. Even if mergers leaked, finish first.
“Chairman, almost there. Usual spot?”
Bae Ki-tae—Han Byung-gu's right-hand, Association number two, driving—asked.
“Yeah. Been a while—let's see that village head.”
“Village head?”
Kang Moo-hyuk echoed, clueless, but Han Byung-gu didn't explain.
The car stopped.
Stepping out revealed a typical mountain village.
Thatched roofs clustered below the hill—rare old-style tiles these days.
The hill had tiny veggie patches flanking it. Kang Moo-hyuk gawked at one.
“Gujacho? You can grow this in a field? Thought it only sprouted in mana-rich wilds.”
“If it grows, they plant. Where's that old coot? Always holed up here.”
“What business with someone else's schedule?”
A voice rose from the supposedly empty field center.
Han Byung-gu yelled at the owner.
“Quit belly-crawling in the dirt and come out. Got company.”
“Company?”
A head popped from the thick gujacho.
Silver-haired, wrinkled elder. Weather-beaten face, but skin smooth and rosy. Bright, bulging eyes childlike.
The old man stood.
But...
Whoa, he's short...
Short was an understatement—half Kang Moo-hyuk's height.
Short limbs parting herbs, he emerged.
Now Kang Moo-hyuk saw clearly. He turned to Han Byung-gu, stunned.
“Chairman, don't tell me this is...”