#313. If You Dig Any Deeper, I Don't Know What I'll Do.
Having wrapped up the merger procedures with Mr. Jo, Kang Moo-hyuk hurried to Korea University Hospital with No Song-rin in tow for safety's sake.
Before leaving the guild, he'd instructed his members to intensify patrols in northern Gyeonggi Province—just in case any monsters had slipped through.
Most of the monsters from the Bukhansan Gate had been flying types, so their numbers weren't overwhelming, but they couldn't afford to let their guard down even after the all-clear.
With Seoul-based guilds handling the city center, the Gyeonggi guilds had sealed off the capital region airtight in preparation for any contingencies.
No Song-rin turned to Kang Moo-hyuk, who was buried in the backseat analyzing the latest incident reports.
"So, why're we heading to Korea University Hospital anyway?"
"Johanna the hunter's admitted there."
"That Italian chick? Looks tougher than she is, huh."
"They say she faced a Demi Balrog in Myeongdong all by herself, without any gear."
"What, she come to Korea to off herself?"
"Not suicide—self-sacrifice. Thanks to her buying time, a lot of people made it out alive. Dragoncatcher Guild backed her up just in time, apparently. Takes some real guts to pull that off. Impressive, right?"
The conversation lulled. No Song-rin glanced sideways before probing gently.
"You really planning to recruit that Italian girl?"
"Why? She can't join?"
"She's from Gloria Guild, yeah? Top guild in Europe—you think a star like that'll transfer to a C-grade outfit in hunter backwater Korea? Hell, would they even let her go?"
"I've got that covered."
Kang Moo-hyuk gave a curt reply and dove back into his papers. No Song-rin's curiosity piqued.
"What've you got in mind?"
"Nothing concrete yet."
"C'mon, it's you—Kang Moo-hyuk. No way you've got zero plans. Spill it just for me. I'm gonna lose sleep over this."
Kang Moo-hyuk fiddled with his bangs, then fired back a question.
"Hunter No Song-rin, ever heard of hunters taking a sabbatical?"
"Get kicked outta your guild and go unemployed? That's sabbatical."
"Not getting booted—self-imposed. From a front-line hunter in a top-tier guild grinding 365 days a year."
"Tier guilds spin wheels even in the year-end off-season. Italy's gotta be worse, right? Mediterranean and all."
As No Song-rin said, Gate-era Europe was no safe haven.
The Mediterranean's mild climate suited humans and monsters alike. It was paradise for amphibious types that thrived on land and sea.
Plus, flying monsters kept drifting over from monster-infested Africa across the water, turning laid-back southern Europeans fierce.
European hunters matched their skills with rough tempers.
"When a hunter like that takes a sabbatical, there's always a reason. That's what I'm digging into now."
Kang Moo-hyuk never wasted effort without cause. Visiting Johanna—who wasn't guild or client—proved it. He wasn't one for pointless favors.
No Song-rin tossed in a nudge laced with suspicion.
"Aigoo, first Americans, now Italians. Oh yeah, you took in those Chinese kids recently too."
"Technically Xinjiang Uyghur hunters."
"Still, ex-Hwangryong Guild. Folks'll think you're turning Iron Will into some multinational corp."
"How'd you guess? Spot on. That's the vision. Sharp eye for a double agent... "
"Nah, cut it out. I'm retired from spying—quit teasing."
Kang Moo-hyuk shrugged and picked up the thread.
"Ultimately, a multinational guild hunting regardless of nationality. Breaking into Makyung was just prep."
"You're swamped with Korea's messes—now other countries' too?"
"Guilds hunt for profit now. Someday, it'll be for survival."
No Song-rin felt a chill.
"You... think another Great War or skirmish is coming?"
"Maybe this peace is just a lull..."
"Nope. Not listening. You say it, and it'll happen."
"Prep too late then."
"Could just be pointless suffering."
"Better that than useless. I pray my work becomes obsolete. Natural unemployment—best for the world."
"Then take your sabbatical. Travel or crash for days—nose all crooked from sleep."
"Dunno. Never slept much anyway. Plenty of time in the grave."
"Dead means no work—why grind yourself now? You barely sleep as is. Three hours a day? Office next to your room? Blurs work and home. That's not workaholic; that's mental illness."
"Got a terminal illness already—what's mental health?"
"Only a nut jokes about their death sentence."
No Song-rin grumbled, irked for no reason.
They soon arrived at Korea University Hospital. The lobby brimmed with people. Even in a university hospital's sprawl, it bottlenecked with crowds.
Minor injury patients overflowed from the ER, filling the lobby.
Many wore oxygen masks—heavy cases. Short on beds, partitions barely separated carts dragged from rooms.
Moaning patients were tame. Fresh arrivals screamed with limbs gone. Corpses, sheets blood-soaked over faces, slumped in corners.
Medical staff scrambled.
EMTs rushed blood packs. A doctor slumped exhausted against a wall; a nurse sobbed at the horror.
ORs full or no time to move—docs with scalpels mingled with volunteer aides short on hands. A CPR doc, drained and gasping, tagged in for chest compressions.
Familiar sight to Kang Moo-hyuk. Many here knew it from the past.
No one wailed tragedy—they stifled sobs, knowing shared pain.
Maybe this era's true tragedy: bottling grief.
No Song-rin felt it too.
"Warzone central."
"Flying monsters—can't block perfectly, even with quick response."
Hindsight, but non-flyers from the gate meant lighter toll.
Government estimated near 10,000 civilian dead.
Few escapees saved them; griffon flocks or wyvern hives loose could've topped Northeast Defense casualties.
Kang Moo-hyuk could do nothing here. Couldn't even ask Taeseong Hospital partners for aid—they'd match this chaos.
He tried Guild Cooperation Dept for provincial hospital loans to Seoul—no answer, chaos there too. Left a text inquiry.
Then a bellow stirred the frantic lobby further.
"What?! No rooms?! You know who I am? Choi Chang-sik of Nagune Guild! If my wife drops the baby from this, you taking responsibility?!"
Selfish types ignored others' misery for their own convenience—universal.
A hunter pounded the desk, raging.
Kang Moo-hyuk, versed in major guilds' key hunters, knew him.
Nagune Guild A-rank dealer.
Recent update flagged:
Shotgun wedding.
Behind Choi, his anxious wife clutched her belly. His spouse.
"Oppa, I'm fine."
"Stay put. Can't I handle one room for you? I'll get you a private."
"It's not..."
Choi eased his wife back, then hammered the desk again.
"Hunter, you think we don't wanna give rooms? None left."
"Boot a faker. Problem solved."
"This is getting problematic."
"Why? Want me to evict 'em myself?"
Kang Moo-hyuk stepped in for the trapped staffer. A hunter bullying amid the terrified? Bad for the industry's image.
"Enough, Hunter Choi Chang-sik."
"Who the—Kang Moo-hyuk?"
"Our guild master's your buddy?"
No Song-rin glared, menacing.
Tier guild polish—Choi clocked the threat instantly.
He eyed No Song-rin warily, glaring at Kang. No Song-rin flipped him the bird.
"Gonna gouge 'em. Eyes down."
"S-rank guild like Iron Will bullies outsiders?"
"What you're doing's public nuisance, punk."
No Song-rin raised a hand like splitting his skull; Kang intervened.
"You know me—makes this easy. Folks are scared."
"So? Wife's pregnant—shaken bad. Miscarriage? Your fault?"
"Your wife's scared too. Turn around—see her face."
Choi finally checked—pale as death. He pounded the desk.
"Hey, that's why I want a room now!"
"Don't you get it? You're scaring her more."
Kang Moo-hyuk barked, halting him.
Choi glared.
"How am I..."
"Oppa, stop."
Choi couldn't shake his wife's grip—civilian, yet iron.
Kang seized the moment, soothing.
"First kid?"
"Uh? Y-yeah..."
"I get the anxiety. Gate risks make family precious. First one's worse. But not like this. For her sake, take her somewhere quiet and safe—hold her tight. Stay till she's calm. She needs her husband's arms now. Baby too."
Hunters ignored civilians usually, but Choi nodded.
Iron Will guild master clout? Epiphany? He calmed, unlike before.
"Sorry for the fuss. Got too hasty."
"Apologize to staff and patients."
Choi obeyed again.
"Sincere apologies, everyone. I'm sorry."
He bowed, led wife out.
Kang figured Nagune Guild HQ—safest spot if stragglers lurked.
"Damn, Guild Master—handling A-ranks with words now."
"Reasonable guy. Rep for being steady in his guild. Not a ranter."
"Rant or not—who cares? Hunters do what they want."
"Choi's a war orphan. Lost parents in the Skirmish. Family-obsessed. Threats were empty—just panicked for wife and kid."
No Song-rin gawked.
"You read faces too?"
"Hunter evals aren't just combat. Personality, relations—all in. I read him, responded. Phrenology's stats anyway—same diff."
Curiosity struck No Song-rin again.
"How'd you get other guilds' evals? Classified."
"Oops. Johanna's waiting. Let's go."
"Dodging? How'd you—wait, Gong Du-ri hacked...?"
Kang Moo-hyuk shushed him, finger to lips, glaring.
"Shh. Dig deeper, and I don't know what I'll do."
"Yessir. Didn't hear a thing."