When the Sun Turned Black
Taking care of Lee Won-hee, who had no special guardian, became Han Yujin’s responsibility.
It wasn’t that someone had pushed the duty onto him. The emergence of a potential S-class awakener would normally have people lining up to handle the matter, but precisely because of that, he could not entrust her to anyone else. The risk of her being exploited was simply too great.
He could not shake from his mind the image of that small hand trembling pathetically as it accepted a snack. The sight stirred an unusually deep pity in him, enough to make him resolve to look after her properly.
Upon investigating, he learned that Lee Won-hee had lived an unhappy life from a very young age.
Both parents had died when she was still a child, and even while alive they had not been good people. She had lived with her grandmother in a shantytown, but after the old woman passed away within a few years, she was sent to an orphanage.
She never found stability in any single place. Every facility she was transferred to eventually closed due to lack of funds, forcing her to change environments again and again.
Objectively, one might dismiss it as a common social misfortune, but such detached judgment feels like nothing less than an insult to the person who actually lived through it.
In Han Yujin’s eyes, Lee Won-hee had endured far too much loss and deprivation at far too young an age.
And, strangely, she feared her own awakening ability. Despite possessing an S-class power that others would sacrifice everything to obtain—a true blessing—she was terrified of it.
So that’s why she remained an unregistered awakener.
There had to be a story behind it. He suspected it was connected to her parents’ deaths; nothing else seemed likely.
Of course, he never tried to confirm his guess. It had surely been an accident, and clearly left a deep wound. He had no right to dig into it merely to satisfy his curiosity.
In any case.
He helped her complete her awakener registration and finish the simplified hunter education course as quickly as possible. She had been extremely reluctant, but remaining unregistered was illegal.
After that, he continued helping her with many things.
In truth, he could have walked away at any point, but he found he didn’t want to. Once he had started helping, he decided to see it through until she could stand on her own.
It felt right emotionally, and from a rational standpoint, nurturing a talent guaranteed to become an S-class hunter was more than worthwhile.
In a world like this, the addition of even one S-class hunter was an immeasurable gain. The more she grew and contributed, the safer Korea would become—and, by extension, the safer Han Yujin himself would be.
Having invested heavily in the beginning, he could expect to receive various forms of personal help from her later.
Isn’t this what they mean by seniors pulling forward so juniors can push from behind?
Therefore, no matter how busy he was, there was no reason not to make time for her. In a sense, it was also an investment in the future.
Of course, beyond such calculating thoughts, genuine affection had accumulated naturally.
She was still only a high school student and not particularly shrewd; there were simply too many things that required his attention. Sometimes he even felt annoyed.
Yet looking back, all those moments were what built and strengthened their bond.
One month passed.
Another month passed.
Yet another month passed.
As time continued to flow like that, Lee Won-hee gradually opened her heart to him and began to regard him as a trustworthy guardian. Han Yujin, in turn, came to see her almost like a younger sister or niece.
Had they been closer in age and the state of the world less grim, romantic feelings might have developed.
In any case, he was very satisfied with their current relationship. He even felt a sense of mission in caring for and raising Lee Won-hee, who would clearly contribute far more to the world than he ever could.
He spared no time or effort in teaching her everything he knew: how to navigate social life without being scammed and how to build proper connections; what to watch out for as a hunter, what special dangers existed, and the appropriate techniques for every situation.
By then, the original goal of “helping her become independent” had quietly transformed into “raising her into an undeniable, outstanding S-class hunter.”
It might be slightly exaggerated to call it the heart of raising a child, but it was perfectly accurate to call it the heart of raising family or a disciple.
Every time Lee Won-hee overcame her fear of her own ability and accomplished something, every time she told him with bright eyes that she had made friends at school—where she attended as diligently as possible despite not needing to—every time she ate something delicious or heard a fun story and smiled with a radiance she had never shown before, he felt an indescribable sense of fulfillment and reward.
Later, he even thought this:
Even if she doesn’t repay my investment, even if she doesn’t push as much as I pulled, it’s all right.
As long as she never betrayed him out of ingratitude, as long as she continued to show him her growth while maintaining this deep bond of trust, he believed he could face death with pride, knowing he had raised an exceptional person named Lee Won-hee in this world.
It was a newly forged life goal for a man who had chased the dream of enjoying boundless wealth and glory while living half his life simply being swept along by the world.
Unfortunately, the world only grew darker with each passing year. Yet watching Lee Won-hee grow day by day gave him a sense of hope he had never felt before.
Many others clearly felt the same.
With only a few major achievements, Lee Won-hee was already being called Korea’s next hero and beacon of hope.
While basking in the trickle-down effect of her rising fame, Han Yujin could happily conclude that his choice had been correct.
She was indeed the next hero and hope.
And before he knew it, she had also become a precious connection that endlessly motivated him, making his own life feel meaningful.
Time flowed on like a great river.
Even as pessimists multiplied endlessly and cults along with doomsday prophets grew ever more brazen.
Without fail, the new year of 2032 arrived.
Dong……!
The rather heavy toll of the bell rang out amid the cheers of the crowd.
Han Yujin and Lee Won-hee had come to participate in the Bosingak bell-ringing ceremony.
By now ghosts appeared so frequently that the world had sunk beyond fear into near despair. Yet the event was held with desperate fervor, as if to prove that the national government had not yet collapsed.
Some people attended seeking comfort. They seemed to want confirmation that the world would not end like this.
Despite the freezing weather, two or three thousand people appeared to have gathered. Such crowds had become extremely rare in recent times.
Just a few years ago this was a massive event with tens of thousands of participants…
While smiling outwardly as he wished for the new year’s blessings alongside everyone else, Han Yujin felt a quiet bitterness inside.
The ghost crisis was truly worsening at an accelerating pace, without the slightest hint of a solution.
Many underdeveloped countries in Africa and elsewhere could already be considered destroyed. Even several European nations once counted among the developed world had fallen into anarchy months ago, making reliable news impossible to obtain.
In the United States, terrorism and riots by doomsday cults, religious fanatics, or madmen occurred almost daily. China, despite its enormous population, appeared to have given up on everything except a handful of major cities.
Overall, it had reached a point where no one could even guess how many people were dying each day and for what reasons.
Korea still suffered half-cut electricity and water in the provinces and frequent shocking murders and violent incidents, yet it remained the country in the best condition.
It would have been far worse without you.
Suddenly, Han Yujin’s gaze fell on Lee Won-hee beside him. She stood with eyes closed and hands clasped, making a wish.
“What did you wish for?”
When she opened her eyes, he asked. She smiled far more naturally than before and shook her head.
“I won’t tell you.”
“Why not? What was it?”
“…Well, it’s just…”
Though she kept smiling, she hesitated, lowering her head slightly to avoid his eyes.
“…There’s something like that. What about you, senior?”
“Changing the subject, are we?”
He let out a small laugh.
The title “senior” naturally referred to his position as a senior hunter. He had originally told her to call him either uncle or senior. She had used “uncle” for a few days, but apparently found it awkward, so she switched to “senior” and stuck with it.
“What did you wish for, senior?”
“I simply wished that the world wouldn’t end and would continue on.”
After answering, he glanced briefly around them.
“I imagine most people wished for something similar.”
“Mm……”
As the mood threatened to grow heavy, he quickly added, “And I also wished that you would grow even stronger, save the world, and let me enjoy plenty of the spoils from the sidelines.”
“Oh please.”
Lee Won-hee laughed as if exasperated and turned her gaze toward the brightly lit Bosingak bell. She seemed faintly sentimental.
“Thank you for coming with me, senior.”
A moment later she offered the quiet gratitude. Her voice was very soft, but as an A-class hunter Han Yujin heard it clearly.
“You said you didn’t have any friends to come with. Someone had to accompany you.”
He spoke lightly, then asked about her school life, wondering whether she truly had no friends.
Even in times like these, schools had not closed.
The number of attending students had fallen to less than half, and it was common for some teachers to stop showing up without notice. Still, because education represented the future, schools continued operating unless the crisis became truly imminent. Although as a publicly recognized S-class hunter Lee Won-hee did not need to attend, she made a point of showing up as often as possible.
Perhaps for that reason, Yeongwon High School maintained unusually high attendance rates among both students and staff.
Of course, it was currently winter break.
“I’ve told you many times—there are memories you can only make at your age. Not every friendship needs to be pure and sincere. As long as you can hold your head high, feel happy, and enjoy yourself, that’s enough.”
“Aigoo, I know, I know. My ears are going to bleed at this rate.”
Han Yujin watched the grumbling girl with fond eyes, then turned his attention back to the ongoing bell-ringing ceremony.
“Want to get something to eat afterward?”
“…Won’t everywhere be closed?”
“Not necessarily today. There are a lot of people out.”
With the social system barely holding together under the ghost crisis, the economy could not possibly be healthy. Yet somehow it kept turning, however precariously. The two had always been inseparable pillars supporting the nation.
If we can just hold on… surely someone will find a way.
Or perhaps the worsening would stop at some point and humanity would reach an environment it could adapt to. Then Lee Won-hee would truly stand as the country’s hero and savior.
The man standing beside her would also play no small part.
Believing others must be holding similar hopes, Han Yujin looked back at the great bell.
Dong……!
The continuing toll seemed to soothe and comfort the crowd’s collective anxiety.
At that moment.
“…I hope it happens.”
Lee Won-hee’s tiny whisper reached his ear.
“Hm? What was that?”
When he turned to ask, she smiled even more brightly than before, yet once again avoided his gaze.
“It’s nothing.”
January passed after the new year dawned, then February.
March arrived—the month students inevitably dreaded.
As always, Han Yujin devoted himself to hunter work while looking after Lee Won-hee whenever he had spare time. She had grown proficient in many areas and now handled her responsibilities without needing much assistance.
Good news also arrived: for reasons still unknown, the ghost crisis that had only worsened day after day appeared to have calmed slightly. The media gradually reported it, naturally accompanied by reliable statistics.
Thanks to that, Han Yujin had been enjoying genuinely pleasant days lately.
The world seemed to mirror his mood. Suppressed hope appeared to be bursting forth, flooding every corner with welcome news.
We will find the answer, as we always have.
The atmosphere was such that the famous line from a well-known movie rose unbidden in the mind.
And so.
Today, after finishing a minor hunter mission in an unusually cheerful mood, he was enjoying a drive on his motorcycle.
The air was cold but the sunlight warm. While waiting at a traffic light, listening to music through his wireless earphones and savoring that warmth—
Suddenly, as if the sun had been covered by storm clouds, the surroundings darkened abruptly.
“…Huh?”
“What… what is that…?”
People nearby began reacting with confusion.
With senses honed by A-class status, Han Yujin immediately detected the anomaly and turned his head in the direction of their gazes.
“…What the hell?”
He responded in much the same way.
The sun had been dyed black.
At first glance it resembled a solar eclipse, but closer inspection revealed it was clearly different.
Accordingly, the once-blue sky began transforming into an eerily chilling dark crimson, and the world grew steadily darker.
Bang—!
A car nearby suddenly violated the signal and caused an accident. The surrounding atmosphere instantly descended into chaos.
Technically it was not a hunter’s place to intervene, but as a reasonably well-known A-class hunter he thought it best to calm the disturbance. He removed his earphones and dismounted the bike.
“Kyaaaaaah—!”
Splat—!
The instant a woman on the opposite sidewalk screamed, a pitch-black shape—appearing from nowhere—mercilessly tore her apart, scattering blood and flesh in every direction.
For a moment, despite being a hunter long accustomed to brutality, Han Yujin’s mind went blank.
He had never imagined such a sudden, grotesque display of gore could erupt in a peaceful place.
But he was not foolish enough to remain frozen. He immediately drew forth his power, unsheathed the sword at his waist, and assumed a combat stance.
The force he had named “Desire Power” accelerated his thoughts, making the world around him seem to slow. At the same time, supernatural phenomena normally invisible, inaudible, and imperceptible became clear to his senses.
He could even perceive directions outside his normal field of vision as though seeing them directly.
The creature that had attacked and torn the woman apart appeared to have emerged from a nearby open sewer. And judging by its form, it was not a monster but a ghost.
A ghost in broad daylight? Like this?
It was something he had neither experienced nor heard of, so he was genuinely bewildered. Still, the important thing now was to eliminate it.
His strengthened body kicked lightly off the ground. The distance closed with a sensation like the world itself was being pushed back.
The moment the ghost sensed killing intent, whipped its head around, and fixed him with eerie black eyes—
A sword wreathed in indescribably brilliant, multicolored light severed its neck and split its torso cleanly in two.
Not lowering his guard, he followed up with a kick to create distance. The spot he had just vacated was viciously raked by a clawed hand.
Kiiiaaaaa—!
Even with its head severed and body split, the creature thrashed about, scattering blood and darkness.
Yet it did not seem capable of reviving. He thought the problem had been resolved.
“Aaaaaaaaah!!”
“S-save me!!”
“Kyaaaaaaaaaah—!!”
From every direction, screams and terrified cries began erupting rapidly. Cars on the road swerved in panic and caused further accidents.
“What the…!”
When Han Yujin looked around, even he froze in horror.
From everywhere.
From every shadowed place, even from the tiniest shadows cast on the ground.
Hideously grotesque ghosts that inspired pure terror and dread were pouring out, indiscriminately tearing people apart.
Far away, an explosion rocked a high-rise building, sending smoke billowing into the sky. Within the full range of his hearing, screams, desperate pleas for help, and the sounds of people dying filled the air.
As the blackened sun cast even deeper darkness, the sky was no longer dark crimson but a vivid, bloody red.
“What… is this…?”
He muttered the words like a groan. For a moment he even forgot he should be helping people and simply stood stunned amid the overwhelming chaos and shock.
An impossible event.
A truly impossible event—one that must never happen—was unfolding mercilessly before his eyes.
It was as if the doomsday the cultists had been preaching about had finally arrived.