The End of Peace
In front of the permanent gate in Osaka, Japan, the end of peace had arrived.
The massive temporary control base was packed to the brim with hunters and government officials from every nation. There wasn't even room to swing a cat in the concrete-and-barbed-wire enclosure.
The hunters, forced to wait indefinitely in that confined space, were already at their breaking point with stress.
"Your country's half-destroyed and you're still crawling over here?"
"Ha, like you assholes aren't scrambling just to save your own skins."
"Watch that filthy mouth, you crazy bitch."
"Come at me then, you fucker."
Hunters from enemy nations that had coldly refused dispatch requests during the Gate Shock crisis—citing their own defenses—now rubbed shoulders in the cramped quarters, their killing intent thick enough that a single shoulder bump could erupt into a bloodbath.
"Any fighting means immediate revocation of entry rights! Stop right now!"
The Japanese Self-Defense Force troops blocking the out-of-control hunters were pale as ghosts, their faces drained of color. The tension of standing on a knife's edge, never knowing when the sparks would fly their way.
At that moment, a dry male voice echoed throughout the base.
"Hah. Finally calling us. Kept us cooped up in this shoebox forever."
"Acting all high and mighty just 'cause it's in their backyard."
Grumbling aside, the hunters filed into the massive briefing room.
The Japanese government agent at the podium gripped the mic with a rigidly tense face.
"As you've seen in the distributed documents, the primary objective of this entry is not combat, but exchange."
The agent swept his bloodshot eyes over the crowd.
"Straying from designated zones to gather items or harming intelligent beings from the other world is strictly prohibited. If caught, the offending nation and hunter will face a permanent ban from the other world."
The hunters' faces twisted in subtle discomfort at the harsh warning.
"Additionally, the multinational hunter team for this entry will be led by Korea's Kang Tae-ho."
A faint murmur rippled through the room. The heavy weight of the title "Earth's Strongest."
"She will negotiate directly with the Elf Queen as Earth's representative. You may be deployed as support forces for monster subjugation if the elves request it during negotiations."
Checking his watch, the agent wrapped up firmly.
"Entry time is tomorrow at 1 p.m. Precisely 1 p.m. tomorrow. That's all."
Having received the intel, the hunters from each nation hurried out, already calculating how to maximize their country's gains.
The same time, in Korea's penthouse.
I was reveling in a perfect, utterly comfy 200% NEET life in my room.
On the screen, flashy effects wiped out monsters left and right.
The vibe from three years ago, when I'd smugly called myself a beneficiary of the Fourth Industrial Revolution, raking in cash from my room via in-game currency.
People sneered at it as "rice money," but that was just envy from those who couldn't make bank from their basements.
That damn game I'd been forced to quit when monsters trashed data centers during the Gate Shock? It'd just relaunched with a "classic" label, rubbing it in my face.
The only difference now? My wallet had an endless black card that never ran dry.
Back then, I traded time for money. Now, I bought time with overwhelming capital—pure power.
Staring at the monitor glow all day, save for meals and bathroom breaks, grinding hunts. This was the life.
"Ahh, this is it. Feels like I've gone back in time."
A smile crept across my lips—right then.
Bzzzzt bzzzzt bzzzzt.
My smartphone, tossed on the desk corner, buzzed obnoxiously. Caller: Park Jin-cheol, Association President.
The ill omen splashing cold water on my perfect dopamine high, signaling the end of rest.
I let out a deep sigh, released the mouse, and hit accept.
"Yeah, old man. Guess it's finally settled?"
"Yeah. Short version: Tomorrow, 1 p.m., Osaka Gate entry."
"How many tag-alongs are they dragging in?"
"One hunter rep and one government suit per country. And that's after beating back the US and EU trying to shove in dozens."
Exhaustion clung to the old man's voice over the line like grime.
"I can size it up just from your tone. Good work. See you tomorrow—I'll pack."
"Yeah. See you tomorrow, kid."
The old man sighed like the earth was caving in, then hung up.
"Ugh."
I stood from the chair, stretching.
Cracking my stiff neck side to side, I headed to the living room to break the news.
Weekend evening. The family huddled on the living room sofa, watching a variety show.
As I emerged from my room, all three pairs of eyes snapped to me.
"Out. Schedule."
The living room air froze for a beat at my words.
"Oppa, when're you going?"
Ha-eun sprawled on the sofa, hogging territory with her butt.
I nudged her sloppy rear with my toe, squeezing into the empty spot.
"Entry tomorrow 1 p.m. Probably catch a flight after dinner."
"Aigoo! What kinda last-minute notice is this? Our puppy hasn't even had a proper bite of good meat!"
Mom shot up like a rocket as soon as I finished.
She grabbed her coat, looking ready to raid the department store's butcher section.
Dad watched her anxiously, stealing glances at me.
"Son... you sure you're okay? Nothing really dangerous, right?"
Dad's voice dripped with worry.
I fiddled with the remote, replying as casually and flatly as possible.
"Safe, Dad. Don't worry. Not going to smash beast skulls—just Earth's rep, stamp some diplomatic papers, and back."
"Oppa! Don't forget elf pics, okay? Okay?"
Ha-eun, rolling around beside me, poked my arm with sparkling eyes.
Blood relative prioritizing pointy-eared elf photos over her brother's life venturing to the ends of the earth.
Did she crack her head falling off the bed as a kid?
...Nah, she landed a spot at a top Korean megacorp and pulls all-nighters fine, so not an IQ issue.
Staring pityingly at the orangutan in little-sis skin, she started shoving my unresponsive body with her massive butt.
"Ow— Oppa! I'll be good! Pics, yeah?"
"Got it, got it. I'll snap some, so move that stinky ass."
Irritated, I smacked her butt with a sharp slap.
Only then did Ha-eun curl up, giggling.
Lounging side-by-side with my sis on the sofa, blankly watching some dumb variety show.
The celebs' exaggerated laughs filled the room when a cheerful door lock chime rang out.
Beep-boop. Clunk.
The heavy front door swung open, followed by thudding footsteps approaching the living room.
Dad entered, arms laden with bulging hypermart bags, sweat beading thick on his forehead, breathing ragged.
He'd faithfully played chauffeur and porter under Mom's fierce back-smacks.
The bags hit the living room floor with thuds.
"What'd you buy all this for?"
I propped up halfway from the sofa, asking indifferently.
Dad rolled his sore shoulders with a sigh.
"Beats me. Your mom said stuff him till he bursts, cleaned out the whole department store."
Surveying the spilled groceries, I clicked my tongue softly.
Prime marbled Hanwoo sets, fresh raw octopus, live abalone, massive wild eels.
It was suffocating. Shoving that into my tiny gut? I'd hit the ER before even reaching the Osaka Gate.
I reached for the rolling onion sacks and mushroom packs on the floor.
"Oh my! Puppy, don't touch! Go rest. Mom's got this."
Mom, who'd followed in from the entryway, smacked my hand in horror.
She yanked me up from helping, shoved my back toward my room with a "go game," and slammed the door.
Bang.
Booted back to my room.
Door firmly shut. No point helping anyway—just more nagging—so I submitted meekly.
Back in the computer chair, mouse in hand.
Deep into mechanical grinding when savory sesame oil and rich meat-searing scents wafted from beyond the door.
"Tae-ho! Dinner's ready. Come out!"
Mom's chipper call.
Stepping out, I froze mid-stride.
The massive dining table in the living room center was buried under a mountain range: braised ribs, grilled beef, seasoned eel, buttered abalone, banchan, stews.
No space left—dishes stacked precariously.
"Mom... how're we eating all this?"
"Leftovers? Dad'll mix 'em for breakfast tomorrow. Eat up."
My grumble fell on deaf ears.
Mom was already piling meat on a spoon, shoving it at my mouth.
Couldn't ignore the love packed into this feast made from worry.
I climbed into my chair, hefting the heavy spoon.
"Haa..."
The long, brutal feast ended. Or so I desperately wanted to believe.
Spread-eagled on the living room sofa.
My loose training pants dug into my bloated gut; I slackened the drawstring.
Each breath made my overinflated belly rise and fall like a balloon.
Staring blankly at the ceiling in my beer gut state—then Ha-eun approached, chopsticks down from the table.
Her eyes locked on my stomach. Her lips twitched in that infuriating smirk.
"Whoa— look at that gut. Oppa, someone'd think you're pregnant."
My half-closed eyes snapped open.
Body changed was bad enough—now pregnancy jabs?
"What'd you say, brat?"
I started rising, chill killing intent laced in—but she sensed it instinctively and bolted to her room like a shot.
Bang!
Door slammed shut.
Giggling leaked from beyond.
A vein throbbed on my forehead.
One day, I'd fix that orangutan brat's manners for good.
Vowing firmly again, I cradled my swollen belly and flopped back on the sofa.
Peaceful digestion time. Heavy stomach pulling my eyelids down. Just sinking into drowsy sleep—
"Puppy, fruits now that dinner's done. Got the fancy stuff."
Mom's voice from the kitchen.
She thrust a massive fruit platter before me.
Piled high with ruby strawberries and glossy Shine Muscats gleaming.
"Ah..."
A short, despairing groan escaped my lips.
No room for even a sip of water in my gut. I gave a hollow laugh at the sparkling fruits.
Round two raid commencing.