Not a Raccoon Dog—It's a Raccoon (1)

The interminable rainy season was finally winding down, and the real summer heat was about to settle in. When the heat truly hit, it wasn't just people who preferred to stay put—the monsters, too, would rather lounge around scratching their bellies in their own cool dens than crawl out into the open. Which meant that, naturally, midsummer was when the jobs dried up. For me, it was something of a vacation.

...The catch was, if those monster pests happened to be scratching their bellies right underneath your house, things got a little more serious.

The county office. A place I'd never set foot in except for that one time I went to grab some official by the collar over a bounty dispute. And now I was sitting in its conference room, staring down at a map alongside civil servants from the Environmental Division, Urban Maintenance, and Road Management—all of us wearing equally grim expressions.

The reason was simple. Some monster had gone and set up house in an underground tunnel under the county's jurisdiction.

"It nested in an underground tunnel? Then just dump some water in there. That ought to flush it out, right?"

"That tunnel was built as a large-scale culvert for flood control. A half-baked method like that isn't going to drive it out."

The young maintenance officer let out a long sigh. The Environmental Division guy scratched his thinning hair with the tip of his pen and stared at the map.

"Huntsman Jang, where did you say you served?"

"Me? Artillery. Mortars."

"Aigoo... the way you operate, I could've sworn you were special forces."

"What, if I'd been anti-air you'd have me flying combat missions?"

My snappy comeback drew a round of snickers from the other officials in the room.

"So the bottom line is, you want me to crawl into that pitch-black sewer. Is that it? For real?"

"We sent a few E-Rank Hunters in a few days ago. They came back empty-handed. Granted, they were a bunch of greenhorns with more swagger than sense."

"What, they couldn't find it?"

"Too dark to find it, the smell was too bad so they gave up... they just got scared and ran, that's all."

They wanted me to do what Hunters couldn't? E-Rank or not, they were still fully awakened Hunters, even if everyone treated them like small fry. How was a mere huntsman like me supposed to pull off something ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they couldn't?

"Ah, this isn't an official request yet. We just... wanted some advice from an expert, that's all."

The road management guy added that last part in a hurry.

Crafty enough that even Hunters came up empty...

"Try offering more money."

"Look... it's not dangerous enough to need a D-Rank or higher. It's just a raccoon dog the size of a person."

Ah. So that's why these people had called me. They didn't need a Hunter's eye for killing monsters. They needed a huntsman's eye—someone who actually understood how animals behaved.

"Even if it's a flood-control tunnel, the entrances and exits should all be barred with iron grates, right? If it's smart enough to pry open a manhole cover, just give it citizenship and call it Beastfolk."

I was stretching every excuse I could think of to avoid going into that stinking tunnel, but the officials weren't having any of it.

"One of the openings that looks like the original entry point was left unsecured. That's probably how it got in."

"You mean those pitch-black tunnels you sometimes see along the riverbank?"

"That's right. They're for draining sewage and rainwater, so they're perfect for something like a raccoon dog to crawl into."

No sane person would go in there unless a bomb was about to drop. But a raccoon dog the size of a person? No need to dig a burrow the hard way, and the water was right there. It had probably gone jackpot! and waltzed right in.

"How do you even know it's a raccoon dog?"

"There were a few witnesses along the riverbank. They said it charged at people, snatched their bags or food, and ran off in that direction."

Not a monster—a delinquent raccoon dog. You really did see everything.

"So it attacked people, you sent Hunters, the Hunters came up empty, and now you've called me. That about cover it?"

"Yes, that's correct, Huntsman Jang."

They were already drawing up plans on the assumption I'd take the job.

"If I go into a place like that, my kids are going to make me sleep outside for three days because of the smell."

"If you need it, we can put you up in official lodging."

"Oh... is it that serious?"

"I don't know how that raccoon dog built its nest, but apparently some sections of the tunnel are blocked because of it. It's not a beaver, for crying out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠loud..."

"You'll pay me at E-Rank Hunter rates, right?"

"We're completely at your mercy right now, so we'll match that. And if your housemates really can't stand it, we'll cover a motel, too."

Not a bad offer, all things considered. Even an E-Rank small fry pulled in a paycheck with an extra zero on it compared to a huntsman like me. But I'd rather take less money and have everyone lift the log together than get paid a fortune to grunt and roll around by myself. That was the difference between a Hunter and a huntsman.

"The usual bounty rate is fine. I'd rather you throw in something else."

"What? You need holiday gifts again?"

The official started giving me a hard time, so I snatched the pen right out of his hand and jabbed it at the map.

"This. Don't tell me to go in there alone like I'm hunting a spy. I need some cooperation."

That seemed to get through. The other officials started nodding.

"Maps we can provide, of course. And we'll request cooperation from the waterworks to close off the bulkheads in the surrounding sections."

"You said it wouldn't blow the budget, so I'll grab some usable equipment from Construction."

"What's gotten into you people? Last time I came here, it was to grab someone by the collar."

The official clicked his tongue.

"You're so out of touch with how the world works... Do you even know what Hunter dispatch fees run these days?"

"An extra zero on the end, right?"

"Aigoo... this one only knows half the story. Forget it, forget it. Just think of it as us doing you a special favor because you're cheap."

I wanted to slam my chair back and walk out with an I'm not doing this, but they had their own problems, so I let it slide. Still, because I'd given a lot of ground on the money, I managed to lock in quite a bit of support.

Cooperation from the waterworks to seal off bulkheads and cut the thing's escape routes. Real-time maps and surveillance camera feeds. Even a filming drone the official had borrowed from another department, plus comms equipment. Better this than getting a fat stack of cash shoved in my hand and being used like a mercenary the way Hunters were. Working together like this, the odds of success were a lot higher. And the higher the odds of success, the higher the odds I wouldn't get kicked out of the house for smelling like a sewer.

I came home with a solid promise of cooperation from the officials, and sure enough, the kids flipped out. Nureongi and Poppy, who were especially sensitive to smells, scrunched up their faces the moment they heard the word "sewer"—this was going to make the frog smell last time look like nothing.

"I mean it! This time, don't you dare come home until that smell is completely gone!"

Poppy pinned her rabbit ears back and laid into me.

"Sewers are... really gross. I already hated the frog smell..."

Nureongi fidgeted, torn between loyalty and instinct, then finally wrinkled her nose and hung her head. Only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Bang-ul seemed to find the whole commotion entertaining, grinning away inside her tank.

"It's fine, it's fine. I'll take care of it as smell-free as I can."

"But... still..."

Nureongi, who'd been horrified by the frog smell last time, tried to work up the courage to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠say something—but that drooping tail of hers didn't look brave in the slightest. Looking at those two pairs of pleading eyes, I wanted to drop the job right then and there. But work was work.

I spent nearly until evening talking them around, and only after agreeing to a few conditions did I finally get their permission.

Those were their terms. I was about to go rolling around with a person-sized raccoon dog in a dangerous underground waterway, and instead of a single word of concern, all I got was nagging. Somehow, that filled me with a completely unfounded confidence that this job would go just fine.

After dinner, I was sitting on the sofa with the kids, watching TV and shooting the breeze about nothing in particular, when something I'd heard that afternoon drifted back through my mind.

...A raccoon dog stealing people's stuff?

A normal raccoon dog would run the second it saw a person. That was just how they worked. And if it were a rabid, crazy raccoon dog, it would charge in to bite people—it wouldn't snatch food and run off with it.

...Carry it off?

One thought led to another, and then an old internet post I'd seen years ago floated to the surface.

...What if it's a raccoon? But raccoons, in Korea?

Raccoons were the kind of pests that rummaged through trash cans in far-off Western neighborhoods, driving people crazy. In Korea, aside from the occasional person who kept one as a pet, I'd never heard of them running around in the wild.

...But then.

I glanced over at Nureongi and Poppy sitting beside me. These two had been a perfectly ordinary dog and rabbit until one day they suddenly became people. Nobody would bat an eye if someone's pet raccoon had gone through the same thing. And come to think of it, I'd never heard of a raccoon dog being dexterous enough with its paws to snatch people's belongings.

For some reason, this whole case felt like it was sinking deeper and deeper into a maze.