#304. Whatever You're Thinking, Please Don't Do It.
No Song-rin and Go Eul-ji couldn't meet up with Lee Jin-joo.
Lee Jin-joo had taken the reserve expedition team out for long-term training in Magyong.
She didn't return to North Pocheon until a week later.
Go Eul-ji, who couldn't stick to anything for long, had already lost interest in digging into Kang Moo-hyuk's past. Besides, with the instructor corps now in full swing, she dreaded hanging around the guild.
The moment she showed up after school, she heard the instructors had arrived and immediately tried to bolt.
No Song-rin grabbed the fleeing Go Eul-ji and threw her a line.
"What, you commit some capital crime or something? Why hide like that?"
"You wouldn't get it 'cause you haven't dealt with those geezers. They're not hunters. They're monsters."
"High-rankers aren't even required to join training anyway. What's the big deal?"
"That's why I rushed to rank up. Grandpa said I'd graduate from training once I hit high-rank. Man, I was so thrilled the day I got my A-... I even shouted 'Long live Korean independence!'"
"Forget that. Let's go meet Lee Jin-joo instead. Gotta finish what we started."
"Later, okay? Trauma's a real bitch. I still have nightmares about training with them sometimes. Normal people sleep with their heads facing south, right? I can't even face that way. To me, Chungcheong's basically Magyong."
"What, you dreaming of reenlisting or something? It's been years since you saw them, and you still dream about it?"
"Army'd be better. That's only two years tops. I got stuck for five. If you're that curious, go poke around yourself and fill me in later. Anyway, I'm out."
"Hey! Hey! Where you going?!"
Go Eul-ji shot off like a bullet, leaving No Song-rin no choice but to head out alone to find Lee Jin-joo.
On his way to the dedicated expedition building, he passed the outdoor training ground set up on the drained site of old Sanjeong Lake.
A "Training in Progress" sign hung at the entrance. The schedule below showed it had just started.
Curiosity suddenly struck No Song-rin about the instructors Kang Moo-hyuk had brought in.
'How the hell do they teach to make a punk like her shake like a leaf? Maybe peek for a sec?'
The outdoor training ground sprawled across a massive plot.
On days without guild training, it opened to freelance hunters from Hunter Village.
It looked like your standard reinforced concrete setup from the outside, but it was a special build designed with gate materials to absorb impacts.
No Song-rin slipped in through the simple single-path corridor.
An open practice field came into view. One wall had tiered seats like an amphitheater, overlooking a large stage below.
The trainees sat in the seats, peering down at the stage. An old man stood there in a black armored coat that could pass for a uniform. Unlike most geezers, his back was ramrod straight, and his build was as solid as any young tanker.
His stark white hair stood out against the coat, but what really caught No Song-rin's eye was the old man's level.
"Whew, A-rank? Looks like the boss-man brought the real deal."
The old man noticed No Song-rin too, glancing over his shoulder before refocusing on the trainees and speaking up.
"Good to meet you. Name's Kim In-moon."
That was it for introductions. A brief silence settled over the group. The trainees exchanged awkward glances.
Then one hunter, lacking any sense, muttered to his buddy next to him.
"What the hell's with that old fart? Forget what he was gonna say? Or dementia?"
The training ground was dead quiet, so even his low mutter carried to every sharp-eared hunter there.
The mood iced over in an instant. Not because of the trainees—it was the old man on stage dropping the temperature.
Kim In-moon chuckled, shoulders shaking.
"Heh heh heh... That's more like it. Hunters are cocky as ever, past or present. I was starting to think you lot were shy 'cause it was too quiet—disappointing. At least hunters need that much guts. You there. What's your name? Built like a tanker."
"Me? Kim Gwi-nam. You gonna remember it?"
Pop!
Kim Gwi-nam flew off with a sound like a balloon bursting from his side, tumbling across the stage, rolling over the dirt field, and finally coming to a stop far away.
The trainees gaped, eyes flicking between Kim Gwi-nam and Kim In-moon.
No one had caught Kim In-moon's movement. The bulky old instructor, whom they'd pegged as a tanker, moved like a dealer.
"Lesson one today: Don't get brave if you suck. From now on, show some respect—call me Instructor. Get cocky again, and you'll eat dirt. In fancy terms, know thyself. Do you punks even know yourselves? Time for some self-reflection."
Kim In-moon strolled off the stage casually.
The trainees swallowed hard, tension mixing with anticipation. Teachings from a strong hunter were an oasis in the desert for low-rankers.
"What're you waiting for? No time for reflection if you don't hustle!"
Kim In-moon's bellow left question marks hovering over their heads.
"Gonna test your sorry asses. Line up in the practice field—now!"
Only then did they realize "self-reflection" meant sparring. They glanced at Kim Gwi-nam again.
"Don't worry. He ain't dead. Just too embarrassed to get up. See? He's twitching... Huh? Hey, what's wrong with you? Quit whining and stand up already."
Kim In-moon approached and nudged him with his foot.
His classmate Hong Joo-il rushed over to check on Kim Gwi-nam.
"I-Instructor? He's foaming at the mouth."
"Hey! Don't you die on me! How's a tanker gonna croak from that?!"
"He ain't dead yet."
"Take him to the med bay. Hurry."
Hong Joo-il hoisted Kim Gwi-nam and ran. The mood in the training ground grew heavier.
Kim In-moon cleared his throat awkwardly, masking his fluster.
"Class continues. Don't sweat it—that was a flub. Been a while since I hit a hunter, misjudged my strength. Haha. Gentler than smacking that middle-school girl back in the day... Kid was just too fragile."
Middle-schooler? Girl?
The group buzzed in outrage.
"That instructor... he okay?"
Watching the trainees wail later, No Song-rin thought teaching them himself might've been better.
* * *
Not every instructor brutalized trainees like Kim In-moon.
Styles varied, but most offered solid classes packed with useful tips and hard-earned experience.
"Think we're outdated just 'cause we're old? Big mistake. Back in our day, we'd take anything to survive. If it helped kill monsters, we'd learn new hunting methods."
The old hunter, who introduced himself as Gae Seong-bae—a rare surname—focused on theory for his hunting methods class.
Naturally, the venue shifted from the training ground to the lecture hall.
"Here's an example. Anyone know the 'Kangkang Rabbit' monster?"
Several trainees raised hands.
Gae Seong-bae pointed one out.
"Rabbit-looking thing that jumps up to ten meters. Small build, one to one-and-a-half meters, but tough survivor with strong healing—vicious mob. Fur's great for cold resistance, essential for tackling gates in frigid climates."
"Spot on. Whoever named it tried to make it cute, so rookies underestimate it. Plenty died from that. Never judge monsters by looks—especially the cute ones. They're the nastiest. This one's no different."
Gae Seong-bae projected footage from his teaching materials onto the wall screen.
A rabbit-like monster appeared, eyes full of malice, claws like blades.
"Bared teeth look monstrous enough, but docile? Looks like a pet. Just a few years back, they'd hole up in burrows, costing hunters heavy casualties to root out. High-rankers don't waste time on trash mobs, so C-rankers led—those burrows are maze-like, and the bastards are burrow-fighting pros. Real pains."
"Now we smoke 'em out, right? Super easy these days."
One hunter raised a hand.
"Yep. Mix poison thornweed, poison sac salamander, and guaqui snake glands two-to-three-to-one, smoke 'em out. Stuff that toxic haze in the burrow, and the bunnies come hopping."
"Just like smoking real rabbits."
"Key point: No one thought of it till then."
"'Cause who thinks rabbits smoke out?"
Another hunter quipped.
Gae Seong-bae nodded.
"Fixed ideas are dangerous. Overthinking 'monster' blinded 'em to the simple fix. Minds gone rigid. But someone flipped it. Who made this method? Anyone?"
No answers. Hunters don't study creators that deep.
"Heads like rocks. Tsk tsk. Should've guessed by now. Why'd I bring it up? Your boss made it—and shared it."
Trainees murmured.
They knew the leader was impressive, but a non-hunter inventing hunting methods?
Gae Seong-bae elaborated.
"Most in the biz don't know. Only us old-timers with time study new stuff. Kangkang Rabbit method? Kang Moo-hyuk cooked it up at Titan. Shared plenty others too."
"Titan's big league... and he shared? Don't guilds keep that secret?"
A front-row hunter questioned.
Gae Seong-bae replied.
"That's why your boss is nuts. Shared for public good, not guild greed. Sparked a trend—others followed, boosting their rep. Cores still secret, but huge shift from before."
Hearing it from the back row, No Song-rin marveled anew at Kang Moo-hyuk.
After class, he headed to the leader's office to verify, asking about the Kangkang Rabbit.
"Kangkang Rabbit?"
"Yeah. That hunting method. Overheard in instructor class—said you made and shared it?"
"Those folks know everything. Technically, Titan Guild released it. Poison-based, so Team Leader Pyo Beom-hee helped."
"Still risky sharing outside. Ballsy as ever. Titan guild master say nothing?"
"Convinced him."
"Not brainwashed? You're the leader..."
"Benefited Titan too."
No Song-rin looked puzzled.
"Sharing methods benefits them?"
"Monopoly wins on paper. But Titan was latecomer—low clout, recognition. Needed prestige."
"Prestige?"
"Builds when everyone's talking. Those Titan methods spread to guilds and freelancers. Guild doing what tiers won't. Needed that rep. Main goal: save hunter lives. Aligned with guild gain—no loss."
Kang Moo-hyuk paused, then lit up.
"Forgot about that. No Song-rin, you just gave me a killer idea."
"Me?"
"Yeah. Worth a shot now."
Kang Moo-hyuk smiled, and No Song-rin felt uneasy.
'Whatever you're thinking, please don't do it.'