Blossoming Strike
Hunter Association headquarters special training ground.
The lukewarm breeze from the air conditioner brushed against sweat-soaked bangs.
The handle of the wooden sword gripped in her hand was slick with moisture.
She stared into empty space. In her mind, she summoned the image of the Martial Arts Manual she'd experimented with back in her old room, pen in hand.
Right foot, half a step. Lower the knees, twist the hips.
Power originating from the toes climbed up the thighs, passed through the shoulders, and traced a perfect arc to the tip of the wooden sword.
But it stopped there.
The missing section of the manual. The stepping stones of the next footwork and gaze direction were absent, snapping the muscle flow dead in midair.
"Hoo. Once more."
She exhaled shortly and readjusted her grip on the wooden sword.
An empty trajectory. She didn't know the correct answer.
But her body was the pinnacle of freakish mana efficiency crafted by the system.
If the joints' range of motion was blocked, she just had to pour instinctual sensation and mana in like lubricant to force a path through.
She stepped forward with her right foot again.
Pressing the center of gravity downward, she trickled the tiniest wisp of mana into the gap of the broken trajectory.
The joints, which had screamed and twisted out of alignment, slid smoothly along the mana flow, forging a new path.
The moment her wrist snapped over and the wooden sword slashed diagonally through the air—
The puzzle clicked into place.
The line of power, forcibly pieced together by her senses, connected naturally into one.
In that instant, an alien phenomenon engulfed the entire training room.
A thick, cloying plum blossom fragrance erupted in all directions.
An overwhelming pressure that bore down on the space itself.
The blue mana bursting from the wooden sword tip formed dozens of massive petal shapes, then shot out wildly in every direction.
—KAANG!
A deafening roar that tore at the ears.
The triple-coated special alloy wall of the training room was shredded mercilessly, like tofu under a knife.
Crushed concrete dust rained down from the ceiling like snow.
Not even the alarm blared.
The sensors had been smashed in one go.
She held the wooden sword extended in midair, silently staring at the wreckage of the wall.
"……Way more powerful than I thought."
It was ridiculous.
She'd only circulated a tiny amount of mana to bridge the broken motion.
But when that handful of mana was released along the perfect lethal trajectory, it amplified to a monstrous degree.
The result of combining a magical girl's physical specs with wuxia killing arts wasn't exactly pleasant.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve.
She tossed the battered wooden sword carelessly into a corner and headed out of the training room.
A repair bill for the wall would come flying her way, but that wasn't her problem.
As she walked down the corridor, she passed a support team staffer coming the other way, tablet in hand.
She nodded lightly and tried to move on.
"Huh? Hunter Kang Tae-ho!"
The staffer halted abruptly, then thrust her head forward, sniffing at her.
"What perfume do you use?"
"Pardon?"
"It smells so good. Like super luxurious floral…… You know, that scent from the luxury section on the first floor of a department store!"
The staffer's eyes sparkled with fierce curiosity.
She looked up at her with a blank expression.
The pungent plum blossom scent wafting from her body. Apparently, the remnants of the sword qi from earlier had soaked stubbornly into her hair and collar.
"? I don't wear perfume."
"Come on, don't be selfish. Just tell me once? It's definitely floral."
"It's sweat."
Not worth responding to, she muttered flatly and kept walking.
Behind her, the staffer yelped, "Huh? Sweat?", but she ignored it.
She just wanted to wash up quick.
Back home, she showered right away, then plopped into the chair at her desk.
She scribbled down the sensations from today's training in her notebook.
The empty trajectory. The process of forcibly linking the power transmission.
With her senses alone, she'd completed about 80% of the missing part.
"Kinda curious about the original now."
She muttered while tapping the back of her pen on the desk.
The real wuxia folk in some other dimension beyond. How did those guys use it?
She turned her head to glance at the calendar on the wall.
The date circled boldly in red pen.
"Allied forces meeting's already next week, huh."
Fatigue washed over her.
She closed the notebook, shut off the computer, and headed to the living room.
Mother was sitting on the sofa watching a TV drama.
She quietly approached and flopped down in the empty spot beside her.
Staring blankly at the screen, she felt a prickling gaze from the side.
Mother had torn her eyes from the drama and was sneaking peeks at her.
"Puppy."
"What."
"You wouldn't happen to…… Hmm, never mind."
Mother trailed off with a strange expression.
Her gaze lingered persistently on Tae-ho's damp silver hair and the nape of her neck.
Even after scrubbing in the shower, the plum blossom scent hadn't fully faded.
Is my puppy wearing perfume? Finally accepting she's a girl?
Mother's thoughts were crystal clear.
No energy left to explain. She kept her mouth shut.
Denying it would just drag out the nagging.
Then, the front door lock beeped open, and little sister Ha-eun came home from work.
"Ah, that team leader asshole tod—Huh?"
Ha-eun froze mid-motion while shedding her coat entering the living room, sniffing the air.
Then she charged over like a hunting dog, bending down to sniff near Tae-ho's crown.
"Hng……."
Ha-eun inhaled deeply near the top of her head, curling her lips in a sly grin.
"What the hell, Kang Tae-ho."
"Back off."
She shoved Ha-eun's forehead with the back of her hand, but Ha-eun didn't budge, just cackled.
"Did you spray perfume? Some super expensive floral one? Insane. Our hermit loner finally venturing outside?"
"Cut the bullshit."
"Nah? This isn't shampoo or body wash. What? Got a boyfriend? Matching his taste right now?"
"Shut up and wash before I stuff your entire vanity into the toilet."
Ha-eun shrugged off the threat like nothing, flashed one more creepy grin, and slipped into her room.
Even after the door shut, stifled giggles leaked out annoyingly.
She leaned her head deep against the sofa backrest.
"Ah, does the smell really linger that bad?"
In the end, she dragged her heavy body back to the bathroom.
Two showers in one day. The ultimate energy drain.
The next day, Association President's office.
As soon as she pushed open the heavy soundproof door, stale cigarette smoke and coffee aroma hit her.
She walked in wordlessly and collapsed onto the plush leather sofa.
Park Jin-cheol, the Association President sitting opposite, rubbed his bloodshot eyes and tossed a thick binder onto the table. A dull thud echoed through the room.
"Next week. Allied forces meeting."
"That's why you called me, right? What's with the papers?"
"Roster of delegates from each country coming with you."
The old man's voice was thick and sunken.
She glanced indifferently at the binder on the table.
"The Elf Queen specifically named you—the strongest force—as Earth's official representative. No one's gonna object to you standing there."
The old man continued, dry-washing his face.
"But the world leaders aren't gonna sit quietly watching some uncontrollable S-rank hunter shoulder all of Earth's fate. They're not the type."
She picked up the binder and flipped the cover.
Stiff paper crammed with passport photos and flashy resumes.
US Senators, Chinese party secretaries, high EU diplomats.
A snort escaped her instantly.
Three months ago. The day the S-ranks gathered in this office, Park So-jin had spat it out arms crossed:
'Three months from now, politicians from every country will be stirring shit to get their spoons in. I can already see the meeting vibe.'
Her guess was chillingly spot-on.
Judging by the faces in the binder, none had ever gotten a drop of monster rot splashed on them in battle.
Just slick-suited politicians flashing gentle smiles and smooth-talking diplomats with silver tongues.
"For spoon-grubbers in ties, that's a hefty headcount. Not a single hunter."
"Politics gonna politics. If shit hits the fan or turf wars erupt, these guys'll yap. You're their shield, and a walking deterrent showing off Earth's might to the otherworlders."
The old man downed the cold coffee in one gulp.
"Tiring, I know, but gotta memorize faces, names, affiliations. Figure out who's friend or foe, who'll speak up for us on-site."
She flipped through the pages.
Shallow greed oozed from behind the glossy resumes, sticky as ink.
Fools who thought their petty power and glib tongues would work on otherworld monsters.
Probably believed stuffing cash in monster maws would tame them.
Wasting brain space memorizing trash like this was criminal.
"Ah, when am I supposed to memorize all this? Already dying of exhaustion."
She grumbled dryly and rolled up the binder.
The crumpling stiff paper scraped roughly against her palm.
She shoved it into the pocket of her gray tracksuit.
"Rather than memorizing this paper trash, I'll review the monster compendium again. On-site, I'll judge by faces—if anyone yaps too much or backstabs, I'll sew their mouths or use 'em as meat shields. Don't get your hopes up."
"You little…… We're talking humanity's delegation here, not meat shields. Don't sour the mood from the start. If international incidents pop, I'm the one cleaning up."
The old man chuckled incredulously, shaking his head.
"I'm out. You won't call till the meeting day anyway? Need sleep, I'm beat."
"Hey, Tae-ho! You haven't even skimmed half!"
She ignored the old man's jab stabbing her back and flung open the office door.
Cool air brushed her cheek in the corridor.
The plum blossom trajectory forcibly bridged in the training room.
The approaching otherworld allied forces meeting.
And the parasite politicians lurking behind, scavenging crumbs.
"See you next week, old man."