Japan's Doomsday Countdown
The suffocating silence was broken first by Hongryeon Guild Master Park So-jin.
"We refuse."
Her voice was firm and icy. Arms crossed, she turned from glaring at the screen to fix Choi Director with a cold stare.
"We have no intel on the gate's internal environment, the enemy's exact numbers or ecosystem, or even the magic system they wield. It's an unknown zone with zero solid information on any front. You want us to shove our guild members—not to mention the nation's top assets—into that? Just to save some foreign hunters? We can't risk our people's blood as collateral for that."
Her pinpoint critique, flawless in every word, sent cold sweat pouring down Choi Director's forehead like rain. Leaning deep into his chair, he threw his weight behind it.
"I agree."
All eyes from Choi Director and the government officials snapped to him. If the strongest deterrent pulled out, the operation's success rate would hit rock bottom.
"From the footage, those long-eared freaks handle mana completely differently from us. Didn't you see Japan's hunter barriers shred like paper? No reason to play mercenary on foreign soil against a bunch of wild cards. One slip, and it's the perfect setup to die like a dog in enemy territory."
Choi Director's face drained white at my nonchalant reply. Clutching the briefing materials, his hands trembled as he shouted desperately.
"Th-the reward! Just hear Japan's compensation package, and I'm sure you'll change your mind!"
Choi Director rattled off the details like a machine gun.
"They've promised priority mining rights to all A-rank and higher gate byproducts in Japanese territory for the next ten years! Plus, every S-rank hunter participating gets 100 billion won each, along with ownership of prime downtown buildings..."
It was a jaw-dropping offer, enough to sell out a whole nation. Any major guild would flip at the astronomical sum and start packing. But not a single S-rank in the briefing room stirred.
"Money? We're already swimming in it. What's the point if we take a knife to the back in some hellhole and die? Can't take paper scraps to the grave."
Ryu Ji-hwan, leaning against the window, scoffed. At that moment, Baek Ho-young—hunched over his massive, beastly frame—shot up with a roar.
—Boom!!
The thick oak table shattered under one punch. Wood shards flew everywhere as Baek Ho-young's feral glare flashed through his thick beard, his voice a guttural growl.
"A few rocks and scraps of paper to throw our own into the meat grinder? Makes me sick. You think I crawled down from the Gangwon-do mountains just to hear this bullshit?"
Baek Ho-young spat the words like venom and stormed out, kicking the briefing room door open without a backward glance. At his violent exit, Choi Director collapsed as if his legs gave out, and the bunker officials turned pale, mouths clamped shut. The meeting was pointless now. I stood, weaving past the wrecked table toward the exit. The others followed suit, turning away without a shred of regret, as if on cue.
Blue House underground corridor. Shaking off the stuffy bunker air, I strolled slowly. The government's cheap ploy had soured the mood; no one spoke, just our footsteps echoing off the marble floor. Then, Park Jin-cheol, leading the pack, rubbed his stiff neck and tossed out casually.
"Aigoo, what a headache. Old folks like me are getting their lifespans chipped away left and right."
Park Jin-cheol halted and glanced back at us, a faint smile creasing his weary, wrinkled face.
"Still, it's rare for Korea's top assets to all gather like this. Feels like a waste to just split. Hard to even see your faces otherwise—how about a round of soju before we go?"
Park So-jin let out a small sigh at his suggestion; Seo Ji-hoon silently polished his glasses. At the bunker exit elevators, Baek Ho-young—who'd left first—leaned crookedly against the wall, waiting. He grinned wide and raised a thick hand in the air.
"Sounds good! But sides are on beef—no more pork; I'm sick of it from the mountains."
The tense atmosphere melted like snow. Laughter bubbled up from nowhere.
Jongno-gu's top Hanwoo steakhouse. Thanks to the Association President's pull, we'd rented out the entire floor. The air was thick with grilling meat smoke and raucous toasts. Prime flower sirloin, marbling blooming like snowflakes, sizzled on the charcoal grill.
"Hey, hero. Eat up proper—you're still the same size. Not feeding yourself right lately?"
Baek Ho-young tossed a couple thick slabs onto my side plate.
"I'm managing fine. You eat up, old man. Heard you're farming in Gangwon-do these days."
"Don't get me started. B-rank gate remnants keep digging up my sweet potato patch—driving me nuts. Yesterday, they trashed my hard work, so I snapped and twisted their necks barehanded on the way down."
Korea's strongest beast-type Awakened brawling monsters hand-to-hand over his potato field—what a sight. Baek Ho-young downed his soju in one go, bellowed a laugh, and jabbed a finger at Seo Ji-hoon across the table.
"And you, Ji-hoon, playing appraiser in Insadong? Hung up the hunter gig and living the good life. Look at that greasy face."
Seo Ji-hoon, sharp intellect gleaming behind thick horn-rims, dabbed his mouth with a napkin.
"Not quit—just returned to normal life now that the world's at peace. Better for my eyes appraising old pottery or calligraphy than peering into guts or monster weak spots. At least antiques don't hide nauseating ulterior motives like those suit-wearing bureaucrats we just saw."
His pointed jab sparked uproarious laughter. Strip away the lofty S-rank title, and they were just ordinary folks craving simple lives. The easy banter came from surviving hellish battlefields back-to-back. Useless chit-chat flowed with green soju bottles emptying nonstop.
As the grill ran low and alcohol warmed my veins pleasantly, I tossed out a careful opener.
"But about that Osaka Gate."
The lively table fell dead silent. All eyes locked on, glasses in hand.
"Those guys in the footage—really elves like from a comic book?"
Casual question, but Seo Ji-hoon pushed up his glasses and replied gravely.
"Just from bodycam footage, my appraisal eye didn't activate fully... but one thing's clear: the shimmer around them was utterly different from the rough mana of monsters we know. Far purer, closer to nature itself. Like creatures breathing raw mana."
Park So-jin propped her chin, adding,
"They avoided killing too. Normal monsters would've slaughtered intruders on sight. Why bother capturing them alive? Hundreds, unharmed?"
The massive forest beyond the gate. Mana's source. Alien intelligences. A perfect otherworldly ecosystem teeming with life. Questions were chaining up—
"Nah, forget it! No point racking our brains over soju here."
Park Jin-cheol slammed his empty glass down, lightening the air.
"Government can't force us if we all say no—even at swordpoint. Japan's mess; let 'em clean it up. Forget it. Glasses empty—fill 'em!"
"President's spot on! No duty to mop up foreign messes. Cheers!"
Baek Ho-young roared, pouring soju generously. Made sense. No need to pawn my precious daily life for riddles. I blew the nagging thoughts toward the grill and clinked glasses, focusing on the meat.
Penthouse living room. Punching in the code, I opened the door—and the thick scent of meat and booze filled the air. Mom sat rigid on the sofa, clutching a cushion, glued to the TV. The news anchor's voice was frantic.
A red timer graphic blinked ominously in the screen corner. Gate break—the monsters pouring into reality after the grace period. The countdown ticked down in real time.
"Aigoo... why's the world always so brutal. Horrifying."
Mom clutched her chest, clucking her tongue. I trudged into the living room; her eyes flicked to me, shadowed by deep unease.
"My puppy. You got called out for that, right?"
Mom bolted up, gripping and stroking my silver hair tight.
"You're not going there, are you? No matter how much they beg or push—no way!"
Her usual soft affection was gone, replaced by raw terror of losing a child—voice firm, hands ice-cold trembling. I laid both my hands over hers.
"We refused."
"Really?"
"Cut 'em off cold. Told 'em no even for a hundred trillion. Don't worry—not just me, all the other S-ranks too. Government's given up."
Her rigid shoulders finally relaxed at my firm words.
"Good, you did right. Guarding our country is burden enough—why bleed for theirs. Smart. Go wash up and sleep. You reek of booze."
Mom nagged with relief, heading to the kitchen. I nodded lightly and went to my room. Shut the door, shrugged off my outer clothes like shedding skin onto the floor, then flopped onto the bed. Eyes closed in the dark.
Japan's government's screams. Foreign indifference. The shrinking grace period. If all went as natural law dictated, that Osaka Gate would burst formless in days. The beings inside would trigger the break, turning city streets into seas of blood—that's the world's rule.
"It'll blow, whatever."
I mumbled softly, pulling the blanket to my chin. It was across the sea anyway. Right now, my bed's fluffiness mattered most.