The first day of June.
Three signs appeared simultaneously.
The first one happened on the K-Walkie Talkie.
Personal identification number: REDMASK
I received a call from Woo Min-hee.
But there seed to be a problem, and even though the connection was established, all I could hear was noise.
For about 20 seconds, I only heard incomprehensible static, and the communication ended.
I tried contacting her through the internet, but she didn’t respond.
The second sign happened on the internet.
VIVA_BOT014: There will be no further recruitnt for influencers on the Korean forum.
VivaBot made a bombshell declaration.
What it ant was that no content had been posted that could stir the hearts of the world, content that could appeal to people universally.
My ambitious project had been delayed for so reason, and in that short ti, all my efforts had been for nothing.
The third sign occurred in Seoul.
Personally, I thought this was the most traditional form of a sign out of the three.
The K-Pisa Tower, where our Captain m9 lives, known as The Hope, had a huge crack that could be clearly seen from 2 km away.
The crack ran from the base of the building to near the rooftop, cutting through the side of the building like a lightning strike.
Those who saw it all said the sa thing.
Could it be that the dreaded apartnt was finally collapsing?
To this, m9, the resident of The Hope, strongly disagreed.
mmmmmmmmm: You idiots, haha. If this place collapses, the whole country will go down with it. You think you'll be safe? Haha.
I don’t think highly of m9, but that statent held so aning.
As he said, when The Hope collapses, wouldn’t the future of South Korea be completely over?
I, who try to look at the world as neutrally as possible for the sake of ntal managent, am saying all this because spring is ending.
So people say it’s still spring until June, while others argue that sumr starts from June.
A user I suspect is either Kang Han-min or Na Hye-in said that there would be a change once spring ca.
I’ve heard similar hopes even from the lighthouse.
But spring is ending.
Or maybe it has already ended.
There was one more unfortunate event that I didn’t categorize as a sign, but it was another symbol of misfortune.
dongtanmom: Does anyone know about ships? The engine seems fine, and the drive system seems to be running normally, but the ship won’t move forward. Anyone know what’s wrong?
Dongtanmom dropped his concept.
The ssage he sent was just another instance of failure and misfortune that perates the world.
Personally, I had so bad luck as well.
So of the rice I was growing turned white.
I looked it up in agricultural books, and it was sothing called white rot.
The cause was said to be contaminated water, but I couldn’t tell where the water coming from the irrigation canal was contaminated or problematic.
I don’t have the knowledge of bacteria, nor the tools to asure it, so the only way I could assess the water quality was by its sll and transparency.
While bad things kept cropping up everywhere, an event that seed like the finishing touch ca.
Crackling—
The walkie-talkie buzzed.
I rushed to answer, thinking it might be Woo Min-hee, but I realized that the person contacting was soone I had almost forgotten about—my junior.
Personal identification number: DARAM2
It was Kim Daram.
This was the first ti I had communicated with her since the Blinder incident.
“Oh. Daram. What’s up?”
As always, she received the communication as if nothing had happened.
“Senpai.”
Kim Daram called my na in a low voice.
“Yeah.”
I swallowed quietly.
What was she about to say?
Was she going to criticize that woman, Bitik?
Regarding that issue, I would probably have to pretend ignorance until the very end.
It’s not sothing I’m proud of, but I think my ignorance is quite solid.
While bracing myself for that, Kim Daram suddenly asked.
“Do you still have the Golden Fleece?”
“The Golden Fleece...?”
I trailed off, completely unprepared for the question.
“You know, the badge. The one you got when you were still active.”
“That one?”
“You didn’t sell it, did you?”
“No, why would I sell it? I still have it. Of course, I have it.”
It wasn’t exactly a treasured item, but the Golden Fleece badge was evidence that I had lived and done my best within my domain.
It was sothing I planned to keep until my death.
One of the bad ending scenarios I had imagined for Park Gyu in the early days of the war was that when my life ca to an end, I would die while wearing the ceremonial robe, with the Golden Fleece attached, wrapped in plastic, stored in my cabinet, so that whoever ca to my shelter could see my body and recognize as the legendary hunter known as Professor.
But why on earth was Kim Daram asking about an item I sotis rember, like the Golden Fleece?
“I think we should attend the event.”
“Event?”
“You know it’s soon morial Day, right? Director Kim Byung-cheol will be holding an event at the National Assembly.”
Ah, that was happening.
For that event, I once joined hands with Kim Daram to clean up part of Seoul.
But I don’t like events.
What difference would it make if a guy like attended?
It wouldn’t brighten up the National Assembly just because they brought in an old-school hunter like , especially not when it’s not even a regular Awakening.
If they needed an extra, hadn’t they already brought a lot from Incheon?
The growing doubts were quickly suppressed by Kim Dаram’s next words.
“On that day, there will be ceasefire negotiations with China.”
“What? They’ve already failed, haven’t they?”
“There are still remnants in the Dangjin area.”
“There are, but are they really going to hold ceasefire talks with those handful of people?”
Does it really make sense?
I don’t know much about China’s constitution, but at least I don’t think a small unit that stayed behind in the enemy country after a failed offensive would represent the country.
“It will be for show. Besides, the Chinese still treat hunters well, unlike our country. They’ll know you’re a senior, so they’ll want you to wear the Golden Fleece.”
“I see.”
So, it wasn’t about being a cheap extra, but a high-end one.
It’s better than being a cheap one, but it’s not such a bad thing.
At least going to Seoul would give sothing, and there was also the chance to repair my strained relationship with Kim Daram, who still held a grudge over the Bitik incident.
But then—
“Ah, senpai, and.”
“Yeah.”
“There’s a capable psychiatrist among my husband’s colleagues.”
“Huh? What? Psychiatry?”
“I think you should get a consultation~.”
“No, why?”
“I’ll make an appointnt~.”
It seed like my junior still held a grudge against .
*
A hunter also has ceremonial attire.
Though not technically a soldier, a hunter isn’t all that different, as they fight for the nation and its people.
However, our ceremonial attire is treated as if it doesn’t even exist.
The design is, how should I put it, ridiculous.
The main culprit behind this terrible design is Jang Ki-young, who seed to think that the fashion of the gas he watched as a young man was the perfect inspiration. With disastrous taste, he designed the ceremonial outfit.
The gold-tinged colors and decorations that hung like those of a North Korean general are one thing, but what was the point of the excessively wide shoulder pads?
Because of this awful design, not a single one of us wore the ceremonial outfit, and no one dared to criticize it either.
For this reason, the outfit I chose for my trip to Seoul was my carefully pressed standard combat uniform.
The standard combat uniform cos in three patterns: urban, field, and winter, and the most popular is the field pattern, which resembles military camouflage.
I went with the urban pattern.
It’s plain and lacks style, but I didn’t want to wear sothing that resembled what soldiers wear.
I wanted to stand apart from them.
So, I pulled out the gray monochro combat uniform and added a shiny accessory to my collar.
It was golden fleece.
Not bad at all.
Dressed in my crisp new uniform, I headed for the eting place.
A jeep was waiting for at the street corner.
“Are you Hunter Park Gyu?”
The soldiers’ response was friendly.
As we talked about the current situation, we headed toward Seoul.
“The world is looking good. No monsters have attacked, the Banryugwi cultists are quiet, and the recovery of Seoul is progressing smoothly,” one of them said.
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes. You’ll be amazed when you see it. A lot has changed.”
Contrary to the officer's confident words, the scenery of Seoul hadn’t changed much from the ruins I rembered.
What had changed was that there were more people, the roads were cleared, and electric vehicles were running, with makeshift markets set up here and there.
Most of the people looked lively, but even among them, I could clearly spot those who didn’t belong.
In ragged white clothes, barefoot, they wandered the corners of the streets with an unsettling presence.
So had strange, red paint markings on their backs that I couldn’t make out.
The color reminded eerily of the ones on the walls of the divorced man's bunker from before.
I asked the officer, “Who are those people?”
“They’re followers,” he replied.
I had learned this on the internet.
They weren’t Buddhists or Christians.
The followers the soldier was talking about were fanatical believers in the Banryugwi cult, who worshipped monsters.
The Legion faction had accepted the fanatical forces that ca over from North Korea long ago.
But seeing these fanatics in the Legion's territory was a first.
They looked human, but to , they didn’t seem like humans at all.
“This way. Team leader Kim Daram asked that you undergo a checkup first,” the soldier said.
They dropped off in front of a hospital.
It was a building that had once served as a hospital, but judging by the hallway inside the open door, it seed to be sowhat operational.
“Checkup?” I asked.
“Didn’t you hear? Team leader Kim Daram said you’d be getting a health checkup,” the soldier explained.
I couldn’t help but smirk. Was this so sort of psychological evaluation?
I entered the hospital with a wry smile.
To my surprise, the checkup involved the typical pre-war health screenings.
They asured my blood pressure, drew blood, weighed , and had show the results.
They even tested my urine and stool.
“Would you like an endoscopy?”
“Can you do that?”
“Yes. No anesthesia.”
“Sounds good.”
Several more tests followed.
One of the more interesting additions was a sheet test to determine whether I had Awakened abilities.
And at the end of it all, I was t with a psychiatrist.
“Have you heard of internet addiction?”
He threw the question at out of nowhere.
“In today’s world, it’s a phenonon that’s hard to co by, but apparently, there are rare cases where people spend more than 10 hours a day on the internet, forgetting reality,” he explained, staring at intently.
“How many hours do you spend online a day?” he asked, his gaze sharp.
“?”
“Yes. How many hours do you spend on the internet a day?”
“I don’t use the internet,” I replied.
“That’s different from what Team Leader Kim Daram said.”
“I only spend 9 hours.”
“Ah, you spend 9 hours. Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?”
“Actually, it’s 9 hours for the entire week.”
“Spending over an hour a day on the internet is considered an early sign of internet addiction, you know?”
“Oh, I guess I’ll have to reduce it by 10 minutes a day.”
I said it without much thought, trying to humor the psychiatrist.
Just then, the sound of gunfire echoed from the street.
I turned to find the source of the noise, and the psychiatrist calmly said, “Don’t worry. It happens all the ti.”
I ignored his words and looked out the window.
A person had collapsed in the street.
“I think soone’s dead,” I comnted.
The psychiatrist clicked his tongue.
“Probably soone from Incheon and soone from Yeongdong killing each other. People die every day. They don’t even bother with an autopsy, just cremate them right there.”
He opened a chart and picked up his pen.
“Now, back to our original topic—have you ever gotten really angry or felt your heart race when reading a post you didn’t like on the internet? Did your body start shaking?”
“I keep my internet use and reality strictly separate.”
“Then let ask differently. Do you tend to project yourself onto internet personas, like ga characters, and imrse yourself excessively?”
“I don’t think I’m a particularly sensitive person.”
“Let ask again. Do you swear casually on the internet, like calling soone a ‘bitch’ or ‘old woman’?”
“I only use the internet to surf for information,” I answered.
“I see,” the psychiatrist nodded.
“That’s it.”
“How do you think it went?”
“Oh, there shouldn’t be any issues.”
The psychiatrist gave a careless laugh.
“Who still uses the internet in today’s world?”
“Isn’t there a blindfold?”
“Oh, that disgusting site?”
The psychiatrist was wearing glasses that seed to be welded together after one of the lenses broke. The lens itself was thick, and depending on the angle of the light, it shimred horribly.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
Even now, his glasses were gleaming.
I couldn’t tell what kind of gaze he had beyond those lenses, but soon, I noticed the light from the glass flickering as it reflected the cloudy sky outside.
He was looking at the golden fleece on my collar.
“You’re a Hunter, Park Gyu, right?” he asked slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on the golden fleece.
“Yes, I used to be,” I answered.
“You’re using past tense, so you don’t do it anymore?”
“I’ve retired.”
“I see. But how many did you kill?”
“Pardon?”
“Monsters.”
The psychiatrist’s gaze pierced through my golden fleece and locked onto my face.
For a mont, I sensed a cold animosity in his eyes.
“…I think I killed as many as others do,” I muttered.
“I see.”
The psychiatrist closed the chart.
“You’re free to go, Hunter Park Gyu.”
As I left the exam room, I quickly scanned the entire room.
Nothing suspicious.
But that psychiatrist made uneasy.
No, it wasn’t just him.
Once outside, I saw people in white clothes walking past .
All of them had blank expressions.
So had ash sared on their faces, taking on a monster-like pallor.
“….”
When I visited Seoul last year, it was a frozen wasteland where only monsters road.
Now, Seoul had returned to being a city where people lived, but the city I saw was even colder than the frozen wasteland I had once experienced.
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