Chapter 96
Chapter 96
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: Wonder Club Welcome
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During that time, Han Sang-ah jumped into the conversation.
“I’ve heard of Wonder Club too. Even Geumyang Group backs them. According to my grandfather’s assessment, it’s money they can’t recoup.”
“Money they can’t recoup?”
Han Sang-ah responded to my question.
“There’s only one reason companies invest in hunters.”
In a world where hunters are essential for companies to pursue normal profits.
“But most hunters in Wonder Club barely do any actual work.”
“Then why do companies support them?”
Han Sang-ah answered my question.
“It’s not that they gain something by supporting them. It’s that they’d suffer massive losses if they didn’t. They don’t hunt themselves, but their influence in the industry is huge.”
Well, it’s a club formed by hunters at the top of the rankings. Their sway must be strong. So they use that to apply some kind of pressure, huh.
I could already guess what kind of crowd they were. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that getting along with them would be tough.
Whatever they had to say to me, it’d probably boil down to something like, “Hey, quit showing off and come hang with us—let’s eat and play together!”
And rankers... well, ranker’s a fine way to put it. Anyway, aside from Lee Se-eun, my impression of the current top hunters wasn’t great.
“The worst thugs are the ones who take money without working.”
And on top of that, they wield power? That goes beyond thug—you couldn’t even describe them with just that word. They were utterly infuriating.
“Guess we have to check it out first.”
This wasn’t something to decide based on personal likes or dislikes. Plus, if ranks 2 through 4—who wield real power—were involved, I had to drop by.
I was curious whether they actually had skills far superior to Lee Se-eun’s, or if they were just has-beens drunk on fame and power, prancing around like they still mattered.
And who knows, maybe against my expectations, one of them might actually suggest teaming up for a greater cause.
“No word from your grandfather?”
Han Sang-ah shook her smartphone as she replied.
“I called him, but he said since Wonder Club reached out, head there first.”
“That’s it?”
No matter how high-flying Geumyang Group was, they couldn’t run their business properly without hunters.
Telling me to blow off a summons from Wonder Club—the gathering of the absolute elite—and come see him instead seemed like too much pressure.
“So, where’s this fancy Wonder Club headquarters anyway?”
Jeong Oh-hoon answered.
“Jangchung-dong. The club grounds span 2,500 pyeong, famous for three restaurants, a pool, sauna, and more.”
Hunters didn’t pay dues; everything was funded externally.
Government subsidies, corporate sponsorships...
Thanks to that, all facilities in the club building were free for members, Jeong Oh-hoon added.
“...”
The more I heard, the more irritating they sounded. Still, if they were rankers distinguished enough, they’d at least have the chops to roast low-level undead legion officers like the ones I’d faced.
Having that kind of power and holing up in Seoul, living off others’ money, just killing time.
—We’ll arrive in Seoul shortly. Where should I take you?
Han Sang-ah responded to the helicopter pilot.
“Jangchung-dong, Wonder Club clubhouse. I’ve already contacted them for cooperation, so they’ll clear us to land.”
—Understood.
Jeong Oh-hoon snickered as he glanced at me.
“Hey, at least the press and media won’t shove mics or cameras in your face.”
“Guess I’ll take that consolation.”
Han Sang-ah rested her chin on her hand, gazing out the helicopter window, then said,
“Either way, once you two leave the Wonder Club clubhouse, the media and reporters you mentioned will be lying in wait.”
“Do you have to jinx it like that?”
Jeong Oh-hoon shot back.
The helicopter reached the airspace above Wonder Club’s clubhouse in Jangchung-dong and slowly descended toward the ground landing pad.
“Looks like a few are already out waiting.”
“77th, 67th, 91st.”
Jeong Oh-hoon eyed their faces and replied. He stared a bit longer, then made a puzzled face.
“Feels weird.”
“What now?”
Jeong Oh-hoon scratched his head before answering.
“At their level, if I go all out with my gear and skills, I don’t think I’d lose. Just my gut feeling.”
I peered at them through the window and replied.
“I agree. Not just not lose—I’d win.”
Handily, even. These guys were less impressive than I’d thought. Well, without any objective metrics, rankings weren’t exactly precise.
No status screens or anything. It wouldn’t shock me if some had just grabbed a spot and sat on it forever, lounging around. Their hallmark was that ultimate self-preservation mindset summed up by, “If you touch them, it’s on you?”
You see it in offices all the time. Or military officers.
The helicopter landed, doors opened, and we stepped out. The three immediately turned to us.
“Yoo Chan-seok, Han Sang-ah, and Jeong Oh-hoon, right?”
“That’s us. Nice to meet you.”
One of them grimaced slightly at my words.
“At least greet us properly. Everyone here’s been hunters way longer than you—your seniors.”
Greet properly? What was that supposed to mean? Bow naked on the ground? As I sized them up, one continued.
“From now on, introductions start with ‘[Year] hunter [Name].’ That’s basic.”
Then he rattled off more rules, all petty nonsense without a shred of charm.
What was this? Had I come to a hunters’ social club or enrolled in some idiotic boot camp college? I let out a small sigh and spoke.
“If you’re here to guide us, lead the way. What’s with the ‘seniors’ crap.”
My tone had zero respect for the “seniors” they craved—their faces twisted instantly.
And just like that, I knew exactly how to handle this so-called club.
“What’re you waiting for? Let’s go.”
I strode off casually. In that instant, a sword swung from behind. I turned to see a translucent blade arcing toward me. Ice-forged, probably. I grabbed the wrist of the guy swinging it.
“What...?!”
He didn’t finish. I stomped his instep with mine, seized his head, and shoved it sideways like a lever.
A crunch echoed as his ankle snapped. He screamed. It all happened in a flash.
“Man, I’m not even into this kinda thing.”
I muttered, eyeing the other two. They looked flustered.
I should’ve been the one writhing on the ground screaming, not their buddy clutching his wrecked ankle.
“I sent you to guide them, not start a fight.”
A woman in riding gear with a red ponytail leaned on the clubhouse balcony, looking down at us with disdain. She held a hookah mouthpiece, white smoke drifting from her lips. A shisha pot sat beside her.
“Choi Yeoreum.”
Jeong Oh-hoon seemed to know her. I shot him a look demanding explanation; he answered promptly.
“She’s rank 3.”
“Yeah, figured she’d be up there.”
She radiated power. Choi Yeoreum, was it? The fiery redhead glanced at us, waved lazily, brought the mouthpiece to her lips, and said,
“Hurry inside, kids.”
As she bit down, the shisha bubbled. She exhaled a puff, yawned, blew another stream from her mouth while propping her chin, then vanished into the building.
We exchanged glances, then followed inside.
“This vibe kills it.”
It was a riot of red and gold. Crimson silk wallpaper embroidered intricately, chandeliers and statues gilded heavily.
Clocks weren’t digital but massive grandfather types. Twin spiral staircases of marble encircled a fountain carved from stone.
A thick, musky incense assaulted the nose. Antique vibe, overall?
Atmosphere-wise, it felt less modern nobility and more medieval aristocracy.
“Kinda intimidating.”
“Not really.”
Han Sang-ah replied to Jeong Oh-hoon.
“You’re a chaebol heiress. What about you, Chan-seok?”
Me? I’d seen plenty of this in that world. After scanning the clubhouse interior, I replied simply.
“Too gaudy—lowers the class.”
The decorations screamed overdone luxury. Less elegant antique, more desperately trying to fake it.
Best case, a kid botching adult makeup. Worst, a nouveau riche dumping cash blindly to ape the rich.
This was common in merchants’ mansions who’d bought noble titles with their fortunes.
“Tiger hides wouldn’t even fit this decor.”
As we chatted, someone approached.
“They’re waiting. Follow me.”
Replacement guide for the busted-ankle guy. We followed without protest.
We arrived at a conference room labeled “Amber.”
“...”
Inside, the room was a bizarre amber spectacle—walled in yellowed gemstone. What, copying the Amber Room from Catherine Palace?
In the center, ringed by amber and gold, sat plush red sofas and a table. Choi Yeoreum lounged on one.
“Come sit.”
She flicked her mouthpiece. Her voice dripped with a superior’s leisure and arrogance.
She clapped once; staff brought drinks.
Turkish coffee and lokum jelly. Turkish desserts and coffee in Korea. As I eyed them, Choi Yeoreum smirked faintly, pointing to her shisha.
“Since I’m smoking hookah, gotta match the mood.”
Riding outfit, though. I sipped the coffee—bitter as hell—and the jelly—insanely sweet.
“Join Wonder Club. I’ll sponsor you. And stop what you’re doing, starting now.”
“Stop what? School bullying?”
Choi Yeoreum snorted and fixed me with a stare.
“You know exactly what I mean by ‘stop,’ right?”
Yeah, I did. And unlike some dumb anti-bullying slogan, her “stop” carried real weight—she could enforce it.
What if I said no here?
I had no intention of following her orders anyway.
Time to think of a good exit strategy.