Chapter 63
Chapter 63
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Selecting Hunters
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Han Sang-cheol gazed at his grandchildren, Han Hoon and Han Soo-hee, amid the wreckage of the shattered room.
"That punk's way too arrogant."
"That's exactly why you're still lacking, you fool."
Han Sang-cheol calmly scanned the table split clean in half and the hunters with their limbs frozen solid.
"You think so? To my untrained eyes, it just looked like anger management issues."
"Issues? Hell no. Soo-hee, if you could control yourself that well, I'd have no complaints."
He got mad because it was a situation where getting mad was fine. More precisely, he pretended to be mad.
Whether Yoo Chan-seok was truly angry or not, who could say. But one thing was certain: it was a situation where he could afford to get angry without any issues.
"I could've just beaten him down."
"And how would that make us money? You crunch the numbers before you talk like that?"
Han Hoon shut his mouth at his grandfather's words. It wasn't that Han Sang-cheol wasn't angry. Of course he was—some snot-nosed kid waving chopsticks in his face like a threat? Any normal person would've flipped.
But getting angry wouldn't magically drop money into their laps.
"Emotions are fleeting. But the cash piling up in the bank lasts a lifetime—until you spend it or the government taxes it away."
Han Sang-cheol paused thoughtfully before adding,
"Ah, inflation does devalue money over time, but the number in your account doesn't change, so let's set that aside."
Either way, they couldn't just vent their brief anger however they pleased.
"That's one reason I was able to grow Geumyang Group this big."
He didn't sweat the small stuff that didn't make money.
"If yelling at that kid just now would've cost us money, of course I'd have done it."
But it wouldn't. Yoo Chan-seok was a golden goose. He'd proven it in England this time.
"All eyes are on him right now."
"Grandpa, that bastard totally dissed Geumyang Group. If word of what happened here spreads, it'll hurt our image and turn into real losses. We need to settle this now..."
Han Sang-cheol frowned as he listened to Han Hoon.
"You're angry, and now you're justifying that anger by dragging money into it as an excuse."
"That's not—"
"Think backwards. Backwards. Use your anger as an excuse to make money. Don't use money as an excuse to vent your anger. Got it?"
Han Hoon clamped his mouth shut at that.
"We could just handle it without anyone knowing Geumyang was involved. Want me to pull some strings?"
Han Sang-cheol clicked his tongue at Han Soo-hee's suggestion.
"You think you're clever, but there are plenty of people as 'clever' as you out there if you look."
Han Soo-hee wasn't the type to handle things discreetly without getting caught. She fancied herself a master of backroom dealings, but by Han Sang-cheol's standards, she was better suited for straight-up confrontations.
"I'm heading out now."
"Where to?"
"Gonna play LoL with the boys. We got booze on the line. That bastard Sil-tak dared to pick a fight with me, not knowing his place."
Han Hoon and Han Soo-hee's expressions twisted oddly. Han Sang-cheol clicked his tongue at the looks on their faces.
"What're those eyes? I've been playing LoL since I was a kid. What, you think I should switch to Go now?"
People raised on Go play Go into old age, and those raised on LoL keep at it till they're old.
"There are more age-appropriate hobbies, like golf..."
"You play golf when you're old. I'm playing LoL."
With that retort, Han Sang-cheol cleared his throat and stood up.
"Still, those elixirs we were supplying him..."
"Huh? Didn't I say he's a money-maker? Keep supplying them. Don't mess with him for no reason. Sang-ah's with him anyway."
"Sang-ah's..."
Han Sang-cheol let out an exasperated grunt and waved his cane at Han Soo-hee and Han Hoon.
"Haven't you figured it out from watching Sang-ah? She's not interested in the meal I've laid out. Stop swinging at shadows and fight among yourselves. You two."
Idiots. Sometimes you had to get rough for them to get it. With that, Han Sang-cheol left the room.
His reaction was a bit unexpected, but not so outlandish that it couldn't be understood.
"Because I think he'll make me money."
That's why he wasn't touching him. With a personality like that, even if the kid crapped on my dinner plate, we could probably get along decently.
"Where to?"
"Hunter Association."
Han Sang-ah nodded at my words and took the lead. As we neared the association, every hunter's gaze locked onto me and Han Sang-ah.
One of them strode right up and addressed me.
"I heard you're recruiting hunters to take down a Rank 1 Erosion Core."
"Yeah."
He thumped his chest at my response.
"Count me in."
I sized him up and shook my head.
"Sorry, you don't meet the criteria."
Going with someone who's lacking would just get that guy killed and put the rest of us at risk.
The hunters murmuring inside the association building fell silent at my words.
"What'd you say, punk?"
"You heard me. I'm not running an academy."
This wasn't about training hunters. It was about teaming up with skilled ones to clear a Rank 1 Erosion Core. If they wanted to learn more, they should hit up that academy—the one Han Sang-ah graduated from.
"I wasn't gonna bring this up, but what makes you so great that you get to judge who's qualified?"
Classic response. Judge someone, and they'll judge you right back. I could feel the dissatisfaction and hostility from the other nearby hunters with similar intentions.
"Curious? Guess I'll have to show you."
Better to face the judgment head-on. No dodging this.
"I'll talk to the Association President and set up a space. Wait here."
I easily got in touch with the Association President and borrowed a spot in the building—the same place where I'd taken my hunter qualification exam before.
"Anyone with gripes, grab a number ticket and line up."
I stepped into the prepared area to satisfy their curiosity.
"357 people waiting."
I sighed at Han Sang-ah's words. Damn, that's a lot. Then a message came from the Association President.
Fine by me. Watching wouldn't change anything. People were already obsessed with my skills anyway. And with the buzz I'd started, I needed more fuel for the fire—they were delivering it right to me.
I took my position, spear aimed at the opponent across from me.
"Let's begin."
Time wasn't unlimited. And so, under the watchful eyes of the other hunters and a live media broadcast, the spars kicked off.
"I... lost."
"Thanks for the effort. Next."
One by one, I faced the hunters lined up before me.
Eight hours passed, and I'd subdued 87 of them. The hunters, who had started off nonchalant, wore increasingly tense expressions.
"What's with him? How's he still fresh?"
Truth be told, my power didn't look all that impressive to other hunters. I didn't boast overwhelming mana like the Partner Hunters from Zanabi, Mugunghwa, or Taebaek.
But after eight nonstop hours and 87 takedowns, tension filled their faces.
"His mana hasn't dropped at all. Same as when he started."
Their whispers reached my ears clearly. I hadn't even shown my full hand. Against these guys itching for a shot, I hadn't used Cannon or even Quad Shadow Spear.
Most of them could've been frozen solid with the ring I'd gotten from clearing Bratsk's fridge.
Still, I was pushing through raw. Instant KOs would've been boring to watch. And it was being broadcast.
Two days went by. Over 280 hunters had sparred with me and lost.
"Jeong Oh-hun."
The 281st stepped up. A man with a long rifle, bayonet fixed to the barrel catching my eye.
"Let's go."
"Sure."
Jeong Oh-hun spun the rifle with a flourish and aimed the trigger at me. I charged spear-first.
His body slid sideways while holding the shooting stance perfectly. My spear missed.
Gunshots rang out immediately. I deflected the incoming bullets and stared at him in disbelief.
"What the hell is this?"
Skating around with a gun. Not actual skates—hovering slightly with wind. Hovering, I guess.
"Not much of a trick, but it pays the bills."
"Impressive enough to eat well."
It wasn't just floating. He was controlling his mana flawlessly—no wobble at all.
With that level of control, he could probably sit, prone, and maneuver without shaking while shooting.
Rapid fire erupted—tatatang. Mana-infused bullets ricocheted off the floor and nearby objects, homing in on me.
Ricochet play. Basic for anyone living off guns.
Thirty minutes later, Jeong Oh-hun—clothes tattered—gaped at me in astonishment.
"Man, I figured with some luck, I might land one shot."
"Not impossible, right?"
He waved his hands in surprise at my words.
"No way. What kind of skill does a guy like me have?"
"Fighting at this range with that thing ain't normal."
He hummed in agreement.
"Fair."
I stabbed my spear into the ground.
"Prep a real shot and fire. I'm curious."
His eyes gleamed fiercely.
"For real? Bullets sting even grazing."
"Feels unfair otherwise."
He nodded, aimed, and took a deep breath.
"Told you—this takes time to charge, but once it fires, it hurts."
"Won't hurt unless it hits."
A faint whistling built up. Wind gathering at the muzzle.
"Damn."
I muttered and gripped my spear tight. Finally, he pulled the trigger. The bullet flew straight—I deflected it easily.
Simultaneously, a deafening roar as wind tore through—the bayonet launched like a rocket, blasting wind toward me.
I swung to parry. A sharp clang, and it flew off. My hands felt like they were ripping.
The deflected bayonet halted mid-air with a burst of wind, then rocketed back at me from behind, spewing gusts.
"..."
It zipped faster than sound, like an enraged hornet, endlessly altering trajectory without rest.
"Not just skilled—great eyesight too."
Most would deflect or glance it off instead of tanking head-on. But then it'd embed in their body.
Glancing shifts the trajectory slightly, but that bayonet could correct course in an instant.
The moment you succeed, it'd adjust with wind and slam right in.