Beep— Beep— Beep—
The radio was still ringing.
Should I answer it?
Or should I ignore it?
For so reason, I chose a third option.
I thought about the past.
Not that reminiscing about the past ant anything now, but I let myself recall Kim Daram from our school days.
Back then, we barely had any interactions. She was cheerful, lively, and always eager to do her best. A positive kid.
I don’t rember anyone disliking her.
Though, contrary to her cute-sounding na, she wasn’t particularly small or delicate.
From the first ti I saw her, she was taller than most girls—by at least half a head, sotis a full one.
If soone asked if she had a model’s physique, I’d say no.
She was more like a leopard that walked on two legs.
Blessed with natural physical ability, she was one of those kids who had won the genetic lottery.
*
The "best hunter" changes depending on the era.
These days, nas like Kang Han-min and Na Hye-in are thrown around as the faces of the hunter profession.
But back in the day, I had my own share of recognition.
There was a well-known hunter when I was a student, too.
"Like Michael Voodoo!"
Nowadays, hardly anyone rembers Michael Voodoo.
Maybe soone like Baek Seung-hyun would vaguely recall him. But if you asked Defender's generation, they'd probably go, "Michael Voodoo? Who the hell is that?"
He was one of the first humans to ever step into a Rift.
Back when Rifts were spewing extraterrestrial-level threats, he made a na for himself.
Like a character out of a high-stakes adventure movie, he wore a cowboy hat and wielded a long whip as his weapon.
In the school’s video archive, you could find footage of him cracking a three-ter-long whip, slicing through an entire swarm of alien centipedes in an instant.
If nothing else, the guy had style.
Practicality aside, his movents were almost dance-like—graceful, extravagant, srizing.
I’m convinced that Michael Voodoo’s videos had a major influence on Jang Ki-young.
"Like Michael Voodoo!"
Back in our first year, Jang Ki-young made us watch Michael Voodoo’s videos and told us to be like him.
That sentint carried through until early in our second year.
Until Michael Voodoo t his end—shaking like a leaf in front of a real monster with a reflective forcefield, unable to do anything before being torn apart.
I’m also convinced that his pathetic death had just as much of an impact on Jang Ki-young as his flashy combat style did.
"…A weak heart ans death. Such people aren’t hunters. A hunter is soone who doesn’t flinch, even when their parents or siblings die beside them. A hunter fuels their soul with nothing but hatred for monsters. Only such people deserve to be called hunters."
Jang Ki-young had always shown signs of extremism, but it was around that ti he went completely off the deep end.
Under his erratic and ever-changing teachings, about a hundred students trained.
Kim Daram was one of them.
Like , she was one of Jang Ki-young’s disciples, though we were in different years, so we never really ran into each other.
The only tis we gathered together were during joint training sessions or when Jang Ki-young hosted an event.
One of those events was an annual monster tracking exercise.
The premise?
Jang Ki-young would disguise himself as a monster, and we, his students, would track him down.
It was a type of training ant to simulate hunting infiltrator-type monsters, which were considered the greatest threat at the ti.
Reasonable enough.
But in my opinion, Jang Ki-young just wanted an excuse to have fun.
The man, who never smiled, would beam and hum to himself while preparing for the exercise. That alone was proof enough.
Given how much stress he endured dealing with factional disputes and political maneuvering, I figured this was his way of blowing off steam.
This monster tracking exercise involved all his disciples.
That year, Jang Ki-young gave special instructions to us seniors.
"Each senior will be assigned a team of four or five juniors. If you’ve been taught by , you should understand why. Teach them. Guide them."
For so reason, I was assigned only three juniors.
Lee Han-na, Kim Maria, and Kim Daram.
I figured there had to be a reason.
At the ti, I was considered a promising student with top scores, and I’d noticed the way Jang Ki-young looked at .
There was sothing eerie in his gaze.
Like he thought we were communicating telepathically.
But even back then, I already had my doubts about him.
This guy... isn’t he just a fraud?
"Alright, the hunt begins now. After I leave, you’ll have to wait an hour before you start tracking. Don’t trust your eyes or ears—trust the hunter’s instinct within you! Good hunting!"
And just like that, I ended up dragging three juniors through Jang Ki-young’s glorified recreation.
We were each carrying a 15kg backpack and realistically weighted replica rifles while trekking through the winding, endless mountain trails of the Baekdudaegan Range.
Tracking down Jang Ki-young was no easy task.
The man might have been a fraud, but he had insane stamina and was incredibly skilled in mountain terrain.
He had even scouted the area beforehand, setting up false trails and minor traps to make our job harder.
And, as if that weren’t enough, he added a ridiculous condition to the ga.
"The first team to find gets steak. If you make the top five, I’ll buy you mountain vegetable bibimbap. But if you place below that, you’ll go hungry. And last place? You’re walking back to Seoul."
To "balance" things out, he had teams led by top students start later.
During our forced break, I took my first real look at the juniors I’d been assigned.
Among the three girls, Lee Han-na was the most well-known.
She was pretty. Had a large chest.
I didn’t go out of my way to learn these things, but when a pretty underclassman showed up, people wouldn’t shut up about it.
Especially Lee Sang-hoon—he wouldn’t stop talking about her. Even Gong Gyeong-min, who usually disliked Lee Sang-hoon, would suddenly act like his best friend when the topic was Lee Han-na.
Then there was Kim Maria—a devout Catholic.
I also had a Christian na, Augustine, which I had gotten in exchange for snacks once.
She was small but an excellent marksman with a knack for cutting corners efficiently. Even now, she was using short, zigzagging steps to handle the steep incline.
And then there was Kim Daram.
Unlike the others, I had known her for a long ti.
She was a waste of potential.
Her fundantals and physique were outstanding, but she lacked creativity and adaptability.
Her biggest problem?
Her weak heart.
I’d heard she lost her parents and was mistreated by her relatives, which left her timid and overly conscious of others.
Even now, she was trailing behind, glancing at Lee Han-na and Kim Maria as if asuring herself against them.
"Daram, could you hold my rifle for a bit? I’m not feeling great today."
"Hey, could you ask Park Gyu if we can rest for a while?"
I was walking ahead, but I could still hear the whispered scheming behind .
And, of course, Kim Daram did as she was told.
"Um, Park Gyu-sunbae…"
She hesitated, then asked,
"I’m really sorry, but… can we take a short break?"
"Five minutes."
We had pushed ourselves hard, following only the freshest of Jang Ki-young’s trails. Even with our delayed start, I thought we had gained the upper hand.
Winning first place was out of the question, but getting mountain vegetable bibimbap seed like a reasonable goal.
For five minutes, I sat in silence, zoning out.
The juniors chatted amongst themselves.
"Ugh, I had plans this weekend. What the hell are we even doing?"
"Must be nice being popular. Who’s it this ti?"
"d school student."
"Wait, isn’t there an age gap?"
"It’s not that bad. He’s in his second year of pre-d? Plus, as long as the guy is good-looking, tall, and nice, what else do you need? He’s sweet, polite, and soft-spoken… Just kinda boring. But whatever, he makes things easy."
"I heard Woo Min-hee from the next class changes boyfriends all the ti too."
"Yeah, but she only dates guys she can control. I’m not like that."
"Wow. You’re a piece of work."
Their endless gossip droned on, but not once did Kim Daram’s voice join the conversation.
I turned to look at her.
She sat away from the others, staring blankly at her phone.
There was no signal out here.
Yet, she was still looking at it.
The distant expression on her face, the way she held that outdated phone—it made think.
Maybe she was looking at old family photos.
Maybe that was all she had left.
But that wasn’t my problem.
People had to deal with their own shit.
Especially when it ca to ntal resilience—that was sothing only a person could fix for themselves.
That was what I believed back then.
"Let’s go."
We resud tracking Jang Ki-young.
Then, sothing happened.
Kim Maria stepped on a booby trap.
Before she even had ti to react, she was yanked into the air, hanging precariously from a bent tree branch.
"Oh, fuck!"
I had no idea where Jang Ki-young learned to set traps like these, but this was dangerous.
The branch holding her up creaked under the strain, on the verge of snapping.
And then, it did.
Kim Maria fell—
And landed badly.
"Ahhh!"
I saw it clearly as Kim Maria fell.
She minimized the impact with a breakfall.
When she limped toward , I hesitated.
Should I abandon the test? Or abandon her?
Back then, I was quick to decide.
"You're injured. You have no choice. Head back."
I cut her off imdiately.
I didn’t look at the juniors’ faces.
I didn’t need to.
No matter what expressions they wore, their true feelings were the sa—they wanted an excuse to get out of Jang Ki-young’s little ga.
"Daram, aren’t you coming?"
Lee Han-na called out to Kim Daram.
For a mont, I saw her waver.
I knew exactly what she was thinking.
She didn’t want to quit.
She was only hesitating because of the other girls.
I could’ve ignored it.
But I rembered that Kim Daram and I weren’t so different.
So, I gave her a short reply.
"One person is enough to help her walk."
And that was that.
The decision was easy—who stayed, and who left.
Kim Daram stayed.
With the dropout gone, the remaining two of us continued tracking Jang Ki-young.
We walked in silence.
Instead of talking, I sped up. Led us into rougher terrain.
Kim Daram didn’t struggle.
Even when male trainees would be gasping for breath, she followed without much trouble.
We walked like that for five hours, without a single word.
And then—
There he was.
Jang Ki-young.
Hiding in the bushes, watching us.
We were right at the goal.
I could’ve gone straight to him.
But I glanced at Kim Daram—who had kept up without complaint, without hesitation—and for the first ti, I thought, What a waste.
"Daram."
"Yes, sunbae?"
Drenched in sweat, exhaustion written all over her face—yet her eyes were still sharp.
A hand appeared from the bushes, waving from side to side.
Jang Ki-young’s hand.
I ignored him.
And I spoke.
"Other people's opinions don’t change just because you care about them."
"…Sunbae?"
This was a lecture.
I rarely gave them.
"When do you think people’s opinions change?"
"Uh, well…"
"When you get strong enough that they can’t ignore you."
"Not when you try to fit in. Not when you try to please them. Not when you tiptoe around their feelings."
She finally caught on to what I was saying.
Her expression changed.
Gone was the timid face.
For the first ti, I saw it—the sharp, ruthless glare she had kept hidden beneath the surface.
"Don’t care about what others think. Actions overwrite everything. If you’re weak, sure—sucking up and playing nice is the best you can do. But if you’re strong enough to keep up with , yet you still let weaker people look down on you… that’s your problem."
I locked eyes with her.
And I said one last thing.
"Rember this—if the outco is good, everything is forgiven. At least in our world."
From the bushes, a second hand erged, forming a circle—Jang Ki-young signaling his approval.
I must’ve done exactly what he expected.
But now, he was motioning for more.
He wanted to push further.
Fine.
"Stop being jealous. You resent Woo Min-hee, don’t you?"
"Are you stupid?"
"Act your size. How long are you gonna keep hanging My lody keychains on your bag?"
"And for god’s sake, stop smacking your lips when you eat."
Back then, I was razor-sharp with my words.
That night, Kim Daram ate steak with as if nothing had happened.
But later, I heard—
She cried all night.
And after that, she changed.
She stopped caring about others' opinions.
She stopped hesitating.
She stopped making stupid mistakes at critical monts.
Instead, she honed her natural physique and ruthless focus, skyrocketing her scores.
Before, she had been tall but unreliable.
Afterward, she gained the iron will she had always lacked.
In a way—
I was the one who shaped Kim Daram into the person she beca.
That was how she ended up in my team.
But that’s another story.
Fate had an odd way of tangling our lives together.
And every knot it tied—
Worked against .
Beep— Beep— Beep—
What should I do?
Should I answer?
Or ignore it?
I even considered handing the radio to soone else—but that would cut off from Woo Min-hee and everyone else who only had contact through this line.
"…"
Avoiding it wouldn’t solve anything.
I pressed accept.
But I didn’t speak first.
I waited.
"Park sunbae."
It was Kim Daram.
"You’re alive, huh? I figured you wouldn’t die that easily."
So much had happened.
But she laughed like nothing had changed.
I stared at the Chinese-made machete hanging on the bunker wall—the one engraved with the word ‘Invincible.’
I had nearly died.
No—I had almost certainly died.
If Kim Pil-seong had been just a little more cunning, a little more bloodthirsty—my story would’ve ended back then.
"Kim Daram."
I didn’t bother hiding the irritation in my voice.
But what could I do?
I couldn’t lie to myself any longer.
A sigh ca through the radio.
"You’re still mad, huh. I didn’t have a choice either, sunbae."
Unconsciously, I clenched my fist.
I rembered sothing she had said to , a long ti ago.
"I was barely hanging on too, you know. You rember I was part of Gukwiwon, right? If I made one wrong move, I would’ve died. Not just —my husband and Dongtak too."
That wasn’t what you called getting older.
That was just getting dirtier.
"And sunbae, you told yourself, didn’t you?"
I pursed my lips.
Because I knew exactly what she was going to say.
"If the outco is good, everything is forgiven."
"…"
"And now, the outco is good. I have my position. I can help you again. You help , I help you. Isn't that how it goes? Think about what you need. I'll call again."
The connection cut.
Leaning against the bunker wall, I looked up.
A naless insect crawled across the ceiling.
I exhaled.
Half of it—a sigh for the junior who had changed beyond recognition.
The other half—relief that Kim Daram wasn’t going to kill .
At least, not for now.
But the bunker’s darkness felt heavier than usual tonight.
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