The Commissioner's Frantic Dash

Commissioner Yoo Jeongtae collapsed onto the leather couch in his private office.

It had only been a few days, but the sheer exhaustion wore him down until every joint in his body ached. He let out a pathetic groan, pressing the heels of his hands into his temples. It had been years since he felt this drained—not since his days on the active front lines as an assault raid leader. The fatigue, of course, was not physical. It was entirely mental.

A hunter had conquered a brand-new Legendary-grade ruin the moment it manifested, and the Korean Hunter Administration still had not found a single trace of them. Yoo Jeongtae had given his operational divisions an impossibly tight deadline, but deep down, he wanted to scream at them to drag the conqueror into his office this very second, protocol be damned.

Politicians from both sides of the aisle had set aside their usual partisan warfare to form a united front, grilling him relentlessly during emergency hearings. When will you locate the conqueror? Can you even guarantee they'll be found?

Naturally, Yoo Jeongtae had no definitive answers. He could only bow his head and parrot empty promises that the agency was doing everything within its power. While the Hunter Administration wielded the greatest practical authority in modern South Korea, it could not simply turn a blind eye to the political establishment. After all, the nation's laws were still drafted and ratified within constitutional halls.

Before long, public censure began to simmer across every major news network and portal site.

Every morning, the Minister of Disaster Administration—his immediate superior—and even the President of South Korea called his direct line, asking the exact same question: Have you found them yet?

Managing the daily bureaucracy of the nation's awakened affairs was grueling enough on its own. Layering the hunt for an elusive sovereign-tier powerhouse on top of presidential scrutiny felt like a death sentence. Yet, as commissioner, securing this individual was his foremost duty. If only he had some guarantee that the conqueror could be found, this mountain of stress would mean nothing.

Yoo Jeongtae stared blankly at the ceiling, turning the mystery over in his mind.

Just how strong are they?

At an absolute minimum, this unidentified conqueror possessed an S-grade trait. More likely, it was Transcendent-grade—in fact, the odds heavily favored that conclusion. No S-rank hunter in South Korea could conquer a Legendary-grade ruin unassisted, let alone dismantle it in under an hour. Unless they possessed multiple S-grade traits working in terrifying synergy, there was simply no other way to explain soloing a catastrophic subterranean labyrinth.

Regardless of their exact profile, having an awakened of that caliber be an ethnic Korean was an unprecedented windfall for the country. Still, a gnawing dread accompanied the triumph.

No matter how exceptional an innate trait might be, it was practically impossible for a newly awakened individual to wield overwhelming, polished combat power from day one. That suggested the conqueror might be a seasoned figure who had operated in the shadows—perhaps an unregistered criminal keeping their head down.

Not that it matters to me.

Whatever their past, Yoo Jeongtae was prepared to reel them in. As long as they agreed to cooperate with the Hunter Administration and act in the national interest, a few petty infractions could be quietly buried. Even if the person turned out to be an atrocious felon, he would shoulder the political fallout for the sake of the country's strategic future. Anything short of treasonous sedition was negotiable.

Besides, if someone possessed that degree of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠monstrous strength, there was very little the administration could do to stop them even if they did attempt to overthrow the state.

The heavy office doors suddenly banged open, slamming against the stoppers.

His executive aide barged inside, breathing in ragged gasps, having evidently bypassed knocking entirely.

"What is it?" Yoo Jeongtae asked, frowning.

The aide, an unawakened civilian, struggled to catch his breath before blurting out, "Commissioner! An urgent report just came in from the testing division!"

Yoo Jeongtae's eyes snapped wide. "Did they track down the conqueror?!"

"N-no, sir. We can't confirm that yet, but—"

The commissioner let out a heavy sigh, his posture deflating as he sank back into the sofa cushions. "Then get back out there and keep searching. Route standard operational matters to the deputy commissioner."

"Understood, sir! But... you really need to come down and see this for yourself."

"I said I'll review it later. Leave me be and go find that conq—"

The aide blurted out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the rest before he could be dismissed.

"A new hunter applicant is in Testing Chamber One right now—and their measurement just registered a Transcendent-grade trait!"

The words hung in the air for a fraction of a second. Before the aide could draw another breath, Yoo Jeongtae had vaulted off the sofa and bolted out the door at full sprint.

Before the towering monolithic complex of the Korean Hunter Administration headquarters, Jeon Jaewoo craned his neck, squinting up at the glass skyscraper piercing the skyline.

Maybe I just have a timid heart.

Simply standing at the foot of the structure sent a faint shiver down his spine. It truly looked like the command center of modern South Korea's most formidable institution. Although modern governance still retained the Blue House, the National Assembly, and the judiciary, nobody could deny that the Hunter Administration held the real leverage. Awakening traits were not conventional firearms; they could not be cataloged, confiscated, or kept in state armories under lock and key.

I never imagined the day would come when I'd walk through these doors.

Beside him stood Myeolgeop. The mechanical combat golem towered like an adult man, yet not a single pedestrian walking past cast so much as a glance in their direction. Myeolgeop had explained that it was currently employing an invisibility technique.

Jaewoo tilted his head, feeling a surge of skepticism. When I inspected your status window, you didn't have any stealth traits.

Myeolgeop's traits were strictly defined: Annihilation (Transcendent), Enemy Detection (S), Self-Repair (S), and Absolute Defense (Transcendent). There was no camouflage or concealment listed anywhere on that panel.

...What kind of logic is that?

Jaewoo still could not fathom the bizarre conceptual gymnastics behind that explanation, but having the golem standing silently at his flank provided immense comfort. Whatever awaited inside, nothing ordinary could harm him with this juggernaut watching his back.

"Phew."

Exhaling a measured breath, Jaewoo strode into the grand atrium. The ground-floor lobby was a bustling hive of activity, packed with prospective awakeners, armed tactical escorts, and administrative personnel bustling between security turnstiles. Weaving through the crowd, he approached the central reception desk.

"Hello," Jaewoo said politely. "I awakened recently and came to complete my hunter registration."

The receptionist offered a practiced, welcoming smile. "Welcome, Hunter. Congratulations on your awakening. Please fill out these initial intake forms and present your national identification card..."

Following her instructions, Jaewoo completed the requisite paperwork. Within minutes, an attendant escorted him down a pristine corridor toward the testing wing.

"Please take a seat here and wait until your name is called."

"Understood. Thank you."

Holding his numbered slip, Jaewoo settled into a waiting chair and observed his surroundings. The corridor held an eclectic mix of people: nervous youths anticipating their appraisal, seasoned awakeners renewing credentials, and sharp-eyed scouts from mid-tier hunter companies lingering by the doors, ready to pounce on promising prospects with preliminary contracts.

Even so, the sights barely registered. His heart was hammering against his ribs like a war drum.

Until just a few days ago, he had been nothing more than an ordinary, unemployed young man scraping by in a modest apartment. He had made friends normally in school and drifted through the fringes of society without making waves. But in mere moments, the ordinary life he had inhabited would be thoroughly obliterated.

After all, he was about to register as the bearer of a Transcendent-grade trait—the very catalyst who had conquered a Legendary-grade ruin in solitary silence.

"Applicant Jeon Jaewoo? Please proceed inside..."

"Ah, yes."

Steeling his expression into one of practiced calm, Jaewoo rose and followed the technician into Testing Chamber One.

Vwoooom—

Resting in the center of the reinforced chamber was a colossal mana crystal sphere, radiating a faint, enigmatic hum. When an awakened individual channeled their mana into the core, the intrinsic information of their status window—ordinarily visible only to the bearer—would be decrypted and projected onto the monitoring terminals.

"Whenever you are ready, please place both hands on the sphere and release your mana," the senior technician instructed.

"Alright..."

Drawing in a short breath, Jaewoo pressed his palms against the cool surface and released a gentle stream of internal energy.

The crystal flared with a brilliant, multifaceted brilliance. Milliseconds later, the diagnostic console hummed, rendering the translated data across the widescreen monitors.

".........?!"

The evaluators staring at the readout froze, their eyes widening until they resembled saucers. Jaewoo had never seen human eyes stretch so comically wide in his life; they looked like alarmed owls staring into headlights.

"S-Senior? What is this? Is the system glitching?"

"How could an arcane resonance drive glitch, you idiot?! D-Don't tell me... could this be...?"

Jaewoo closed his eyes, suppressing a quiet sigh. Well. It had to happen eventually.

Revealing a Transcendent trait was always going to detonate like a depth charge. There was no gentle way to ease people into it.

The testing staff exchanged frantic, hushed murmurs before the lead proctor spun toward him, his voice cracking with urgency.

"P-P-Please wait right here! Do not move!"

Leaving Jaewoo standing alone by the pedestal, the evaluators dashed out of the chamber as though the building were on fire. Only moments passed before the hallway outside shuddered, echoing with heavy, thunderous footsteps.

Someone was approaching at breakneck speed, using raw mana propulsion to bypass walking entirely.

The chamber doors flew wide, revealing the supreme head of South Korea's hunter network skid-stopping across the threshold, his necktie askew and his face flushed.

Whoa. Now that's a celebrity.

Commissioner Yoo Jeongtae was easily one of the most recognizable figures in the country, his face plastered across daily broadcasts and international summits. The man lunged forward, seizing Jaewoo's hand in both of his and pumping it with theatrical enthusiasm.

"Mr. Jeon Jaewoo! You are Hunter Jeon Jaewoo, correct?!"

Technically, the registration process was incomplete, meaning he was not yet an official ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hunter, but Jaewoo simply offered a modest nod. "Yes, that's me."

"A heartfelt welcome to the Hunter Administration! Come, let us move to my private office immediately so we can discuss the particulars in comfort."

"Pardon?" Jaewoo blinked in confusion. "I just came to finish my hunter registration. Do I need to be relocated?"

"Ah, if my office feels too burdensome, I will personally escort you to the VIP reception suite!"

Evidently, declining the conversation was not on the table.

A few minutes later, Jaewoo found himself seated on a plush sofa in the agency's highest-tier executive receiving room, sitting face-to-face with the nation's premier authority. Having one of the country's apex powerhouses sitting across from him ought to have been intimidating, but strangely, Jaewoo felt remarkably composed.

Myeolgeop remained stationed silently right beside him, perfectly invisible. Not even the high-ranking security guards stationed outside the suite or the commissioner himself seemed to register the golem's presence.

Even Commissioner Yoo Jeongtae can't see through it.

It was a stark reminder of just how terrifyingly absolute a Transcendent-grade trait truly was.

Across the low table, Yoo Jeongtae fidgeted, unable to contain his nervous excitement. He didn't even wait for the tea ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠service to arrive before leaning in, his hands clasped tightly over his knees.

"First, allow me to offer my utmost congratulations on awakening a Transcendent-grade trait."

"Thank you, Commissioner."

The man looked ready to burst at the seams, a tempest of desperate curiosity warring behind his eyes. After a brief, loaded hesitation, the question that had tormented the entire administration finally tore from his lips.

"Hunter Jeon, there is one question I must ask above all else."

"Go ahead."

"Among the newly manifested Legendary-grade ruins... were you the one who conquered the Apostle of Death?"