A Hunting Dog's Proof (1)

And my grim premonitions had never once been wrong.

A few days later, the version of me that aired on television was a complete spectacle. A wholesome country girl. A single parent holding down a household of three children all on her own. And yet, a dead-eye shot who never missed—the very picture of unexpected charm.

I'd told myself it was just some sleepy little program about rural scenery and let my guard down. As it turned out, that was exactly why they'd packaged me so convincingly. Even Nureongi, Poppy, and Eunseo, sitting right beside me, were staring transfixed at the smiling face on the screen. I could only imagine how everyone else was taking it.

Sure enough. In the men's communities, praise for my looks exploded. In the women's communities, it was open admiration for that unexpected charm. They went at me from every conceivable angle—chewing me up, sucking me dry, tearing me to pieces. Absolute chaos.

"Hehe~ Unnie, why don't you try ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠streaming while you're at it?"

"Want your ears pulled again?"

Poppy, who'd been teasing me, quickly clapped both hands over her rabbit ears—but she couldn't stop giggling.

"Or how about theater, Unnie? You were pretty good ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at acting."

Eunseo chimed in, just as insufferable, and even Nureongi—who I'd assumed was too innocent to understand any of this—was quietly nodding along.

"No. Once you pick up a gun, you live by it for the rest of your life. What even..."

"But Unnie, that face of yours is going to waste~"

"If I'm pretty, who's going to earn the money for your meat?"

"The meat money's fine."

Nureongi suddenly grinned at me, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I was organizing Unnie's mail today, and a letter showed up in the mailbox."

Nureongi had clearly already read it. I took the already-opened envelope from her and found a payment notice from the broadcasting station for my appearance fee.

Leave it to a backwater program to send an actual letter instead of an email...

I looked over the contents, and the amount explained exactly why Nureongi had been smiling. The money I'd earned from showing my face once and putting on a little charm was equal to what I'd make hunting several monster ticks.

The world really was unfair.

Still... having my face out there wasn't entirely a bad thing. Except for the occasional nonsense from the Huntsman Association about randomly appointing me as some kind of promotional ambassador, they'd also started sending hunting requests my way far more often.

The other huntsmen were getting on in years, and while looks weren't everything, people did tend to say they didn't come across as particularly professional. And now a young woman had been on TV actually firing a gun—so of course they were coming to me far more often than the old-timers.

I felt a little bad for my colleagues... but what could I do? It was a competitive world.

After clearing a few of the extra hunting requests, buying an Aquatic Pocket for Eunseo was progressing faster than I'd expected.

A few days after that, one afternoon, the four of us were gathered in front of the TV, looking over the pocket in question together.

"That's weird... It just looks like a giant plastic bag. Why's it so expensive?"

"A plastic bag?! It's cutting-edge technology, Unnie!"

"Looks like a plastic bag to me!"

The reason Eunseo and I were bickering was, of course, the price. Apparently merfolk stood out too much traveling around in tanks, so they moved inside special water-filled pouches instead... No matter how I looked at it, it was just a fish in a water-filled plastic bag. As if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I was supposed to understand all the mana circulation devices and Magic Stone alloy materials Eunseo was chattering on about beside me.

Eventually Poppy got fed up herself, let out a long sigh, and flipped the channel to a home shopping broadcast that happened to be advertising Aquatic Pockets. On screen, they started with the cheap models, then the prices climbed and climbed until they hit the kind of number that could buy you a used car.

I could only sigh, wondering why anyone would look at that and think it was a good deal. And yet, as ridiculous as the price of that plastic bag on the home shopping channel was... the mermaid show host was floating in midair, inside the pocket.

"See, Unnie? You get what you pay for!"

Poppy declared, looking thoroughly triumphant.

"Haa... I said I get it. But why do I always end up looking at the installment months written in tiny print at the bottom first..."

Eunseo seemed to understand how I felt. She stopped pestering me and just draped her arms over the edge of the tank, staring at the TV screen. How was I supposed to turn her down when she was looking at it with eyes like that?

The closer Eunseo got to us, the further our household budget drifted away. It was an absurd situation, and it kept happening—but strangely enough, I didn't mind.

That night, the kids wanted it that badly, so the thing I had to put my hands to—since I would rather die than go on TV again—was a slightly more dangerous hunting job. The appearance fee had gotten me partway there, but it was nowhere near enough.

Until now, I'd only taken requests near Dohwang-ri, or ones I could handle easily. But now I needed a lump sum. Hunting a few water deer wasn't going to get me that pocket. I'd be lucky to scrape by day to day.

I went back to my room, opened my laptop, and started combing through the Huntsman Association board and the Chungnam regional hunting notices. Sure enough, most of the low-risk hunting jobs were either closed or paid poorly. The ones with decent pay were all near the Gangwon-do mountain ranges—far enough that I'd have to leave the kids for days.

Haa... Do I seriously have to go on TV again... I really, really don't want to.

I was still scrolling when an urgent request from a nearby area caught my eye.

It was a crop damage report, and since the bounty was being paid directly by the city hall's Environmental Division rather than the county office, the compensation was quite decent. The problem was what I had to hunt.

A wild boar. And not just any wild boar—a mutant wild boar.

Whether they'd gotten stronger and younger right along with me, the boar faintly visible ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the attached damage-site photos had grown enormous.

Back in the day, you had to wait with bated breath for hunting season just to have a shot at these things. Now they pop up like game quests... The world really has changed.

When I was a man, you had to get permits for everything—the hunting season, the time of day, the location. Now the world had changed, and as long as a damage report came in, huntsmen applied for the jobs themselves and took them. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

I hit the Submit Hunt Application button without hesitation and closed the laptop.

It had been a while... This felt like the most huntsman-like request I'd taken in a long time. Except for the part where the target was a monster boar.

But... the hardest part of hunting something like a wild boar wasn't the moment you pulled the trigger. It was the search—finding the damn thing in the first place. Even with a professional hunting dog raised by a fellow huntsman, you'd be lucky to track it by scent. Going after a creature that had grown that large—and that much more cunning—all by myself was out of the question.

And even if I borrowed hunting dogs from somewhere, the risk of them getting badly hurt against a monster boar like that was far too high. In the end, I needed a tracker. Someone who could pick up a scent and follow it relentlessly. Someone who could work in sync with me, who had a better nose than anyone...

As it happened, that someone was very close by.

Nureongi.

I knew it was a rotten thing to ask. But there was no one who knew me as well as Nureongi, and no one who knew Nureongi as well as I did. If I asked, she would wag her tail and jump to help without a second thought.

Still, something in my chest sat wrong. I'd treated her like a child this whole time, and now that I needed her, I was going to start treating her like an adult...

I really was a terrible grown-up.

The next evening, I left my room and headed for the living room. Nureongi happened to be sitting side by side with Eunseo, quietly watching TV.

"Hana, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes! Unnie!"

Nureongi came over with her tail wagging brightly, with no idea what I was about to ask. I brought her back into the room, closed the door, hesitated for a moment, then carefully opened my mouth.

"Nureongi... want to do a job with me?"

"What kind of job, Unnie?"

She seemed to think I was just going to pile another household chore on her.

"My work... can you help me with it?"

"Unnie's work? I don't know how to shoot a gun, though."

"It's more important than shooting."

Nureongi just tilted her head, looking completely lost. That innocent expression pulled a laugh out of me before I could stop it. It was the thing a dog did best by instinct—maybe she'd forgotten now that she was human.

"Scent. I need to track down a big one, and I'd like your help."

"I keep telling you, I'm not a puppy anymore!"

Nureongi grumbled playfully, her tail swishing back and forth. But a tail wagging that hard was never a no. A dog puts its tail down when it doesn't like something. It doesn't wag it like that. That was the wag of a dog so happy she didn't know what to do with herself.

"Still... you've got a better nose than I do, don't you?"

"That's true! When do you need me?"

True to her kind heart, she accepted without a shred of hesitation.

"That... should be in a few days. But promise me. You absolutely cannot run too far ahead, okay?"

"Don't worry, Unnie! I'll stick right by your side!"

Looking at Nureongi's confident face, I felt guilty for dragging her into something dangerous. But... her eyes were shining brighter than they ever had.

Like a young hunting dog who had finally been given the chance to prove her worth.