Beef Shuttle Duty and the Gate's Forbidden Tome

Kang Tae-ho sprawled out flat on the living room floor of the penthouse, flipping through a comic book with zero enthusiasm. His younger sister, Kang Hae-eun, was perched heavily on his lower back, humming a tune while gleefully braiding his silver hair into pigtails like he was her personal doll. Her natural predator. He didn't bother shaking her off by force. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Resistance would just drain his mental energy pointlessly.

His smartphone, tossed carelessly on the living room table, erupted in a loud ring. The caller ID screen flashed

A few days ago, he'd met the S-rank flame sorceress on that rooftop.

"Hand over the phone."

Hae-eun grabbed a fistful of his hair and passed him the smartphone. He hit the call button.

"What."

-Our tiny hero, you didn't forget that promise from a few days ago, right?

"What promise."

-You said you'd treat us to meat at the guild dinner! I just cleared a B-rank Gate with the kids and got back. Hurry up and fly over to the guild.

Park So-jin's voice came through the receiver, thick with exhaustion. Only then did he recall their rooftop chat. Right, before she left, she'd unilaterally declared he'd buy meat for their guild dinner.

"Ah, what a pain in the ass."

-Sis burned those monster bastards to a crisp today and she's on the verge of mana exhaustion. Get here quick and whip out that fat corporate card. Oh, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠swing by my office first. Got something to show you.

"Fine. On my way."

He ended the call and twisted his body to shake off Hae-eun from his back.

"Ow! Why'd you hit me!"

"I'm heading out. Beef shuttle duty."

He roughly ran his fingers through his half-braided hair. He yanked a black cap low over his head. Too lazy to change, he stayed in his baggy hoodie and opened the veranda window. With a light push, he floated up into the sky.

Destination: smack in the middle of Gangnam. The headquarters tower of Hongryeon Guild, Korea's top-tier fire-specialized guild.

Breaking the sound barrier, he streaked across the city skyline. Minutes later, he landed silently on the rooftop of the massive high-rise. He took the elevator down to the top floor, reserved for the guild leader.

Ding.

The doors opened to a hallway lined with burly A-rank guild members, all looking fierce as hell. Towering muscleheads armed with shields and greatswords. The moment they spotted the hoodie-clad girl stepping out of the elevator, they snapped to attention and parted like the Red Sea.

"Greetings, Hunter Kang Tae-ho!"

Their booming salute echoed down the corridor. He gave a half-hearted nod and headed straight for the guild leader's office at the end. A bizarre sight: battlefield killers bowing to a pint-sized hunter. By now, it barely registered.

He shoved open the door. Park So-jin was sprawled on the sofa, slurping a mixed coffee. The battle must've been brutal— the hem of her red coat was charred black.

"You made it? Honored to host our pricey tiny hero."

"What'd you wanna show me. Let's just go eat."

He flopped onto the opposite sofa. So-jin set down her paper cup. No trace of her usual playful, smirky auntie vibe. Her face was stiff, serious.

She fished a thick transparent vinyl ziplock bag from her pocket and tossed it onto the table.

"Take a look at this."

A grotesque ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lump of ashen mush barely holding its shape inside the bag. He leaned in, narrowing his eyes.

"...A book?"

"Yeah, a book. Not your average paper—looks like monster leather parchment."

"Why show me this. You've scavenged gate junk plenty before."

"Know where this came from? That B-rank Gate we just cleared."

So-jin pinched the bridge of her nose and continued.

"That gate's ecosystem was a total shitshow. Swarming with flying monsters—harpies, all of 'em with human faces on their heads. Creepy as hell."

Harpies. Beasts with human smarts, screeching in voices that mimicked people. Unpleasant fuckers he'd sliced up a few times on the Northern Frontline.

"Nest-type gate with harpies, huh. So?"

"But under their nesting cliff, there was this cave. The kids went in to farm mana stones, and right there on an altar-like rock in the back—this thing was enshrined."

So-jin tapped the bag with her finger.

"Think about it. Harpies are animals through and through. No tools, no smarts for writing. Yet deep in a gate crawling with those beasts, a book preserved like someone meant it to be found?"

She had a point. Gates were sealed ecosystems of monsters. That was clearly an artifact left by an intelligent being, with intent.

Without a word, he extended his hand over the bag. He released a trace of mana to probe inside. A faint, alien ripple snagged at his fingertips.

Not the rough, muddy mana from typical monsters. Faint, but refined with clear patterns—like mana woven by human hands.

His mind went ice-cold. Maybe gates weren't just monster dens. Or perhaps the 400,000 missing from the Gate Shock three years ago were surviving inside. What the hell lay beyond this world?

Either way, it was a filthy, complicated mess.

"Why show me? Dump it on the Association's research team."

He leaned back, playing dumb. He kept the alien mana to himself.

"You poked more gates than anyone on the frontline for two years. Figured you might've seen something similar."

"Nope. Too busy smashing beast skulls to pick up ancient scrolls."

He cut her off dryly. Better to mull headaches alone in bed later. Right now, he was starving.

"Nothing special? Let's eat. Your guild's dying of hunger."

"Ugh, not even blood from a stab. Stone-cold bastard."

So-jin tsked, stashing the bag in her safe. Tension gone, she stretched and stood. Her serious face melted into the weary look of an off-duty office worker.

"Hey, we're talking prime Hanwoo two-horn today, right? Sis's mana ringed out—my stomach's glued to my spine."

"Don't worry about my wallet. Scratch whatever. State's pension piles up with nowhere to spend."

He stood and headed for the door. So-jin tried slinging an arm over his shoulder but failed on height. She mashed his cap brim down instead.

"Let's go, sponsor man! Kids! Hunter Kang Tae-ho's buying beef tonight!"

She flung the door open and bellowed down the hall.

Rooooaaar!

A thunderous cheer shook the building. Mobster-sized hunters high-fived and whooped in front of him.

Their gazes were oppressively burdensome and exhausting. He tugged his cap lower and trudged along like he had no choice.

Gangnam's top Hanwoo specialist. The Hongryeon Guild had booked out the entire place, turning the dinner into utter chaos.

"Tae-ho bro! Er, hero! This meat's done—have a piece!"

A buzzcut tank of a man wielded tongs and scissors like sacred relics, delicately plating marbled sirloin—fat blooming like snowflakes—onto his dish. Seated at the head table, Tae-ho just twitched his chopsticks. The high chair left his feet dangling.

"Yeah. Good work. You eat too."

His casual words sent the giants clinking shot glasses in touched. An S-rank monster-slayer munching beef in a little girl's body—the gap was their fetish. He didn't get it, but free top-grade beef grilled by others? Delicious. He ate quietly.

Next to him, So-jin chugged soju like water. Three shots straight, no chaser, then a deep sigh.

"Haa... I'm dying, for real."

"Why straight soju on an empty stomach. Ruins your gut."

"Hey, smashing monster heads is easier than feeding my five-year-old. Yesterday she wailed all morning about hating daycare—nearly fireballed the place."

Classic K-working-mom rant. The witch who ashed monster hordes with flame storms was just a tired mom before childcare.

"Your hubby's the househusband, right? Leave it to him."

"What can he do? Daughter's in her toddler rebellion phase—won't listen to anyone but me. Driving me insane."

She jabbed the grill with her chopsticks, grumbling.

"Oh, right! My girl's obsessed with this magical girl comic lately. Saw you flying on the news and now she's begging to meet the 'real magical girl.'"

The beef lodged in his throat. He coughed, gulping water.

"What bullshit. To a 32-year-old dude."

"To ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a five-year-old, you're perfect. Come over later, wave a wand once? C'mon, tiny hero—sis's wish."

"No. We're done."

Flat refusal. Earth's savior waving a wand for a toddler? Better to dive barehanded into a monster wave.

"Tch, cheapskate. Just eat your beef."

So-jin piled grilled mushrooms and meat onto his rice bowl. Grumpy but caring—why her guild worshipped her blindly.

The restaurant buzzed. Sharp soju fumes mixed with sweet, fatty Hanwoo aroma. Guildies, buzzed, swapped war stories or idle chatter.

This rowdy, warm daily life. Tae-ho sipped soda quietly, soaking in the peaceful scene.

The worn book from her office flashed in his mind. 90% rotted, laced with intelligent mana. Where'd a harpy nest tome come from?

The lingering beef juice turned bitterly ominous. A bad hook tugged at his chest. But it wasn't his problem yet.

"Hey! Another 20 sirloins! Our sponsor's money's rotting!"

So-jin's roar shook the place. Tae-ho thought of the corporate card in his pocket. Silently, he speared a perfectly grilled piece and popped it in his mouth. Headaches later—swallow this daily life first.