“A fork in the path? That’s not on the map.”
I checked the old map.
Sure enough, there was no indication of a fork in the area.
It wasn’t like the typical split between two existing subway lines.
“Looks newly built.”
Cheon Young-jae shone his lantern down the unexplored fork.
The concrete was definitely a different shade.
Newly constructed.
The reason why—unknown.
I checked the azimuth along with the map.
As close as possible, the surrounding region’s map suggested that the fork led not to an underground line, but to a surface-level platform.
“Hold on.”
I deployed the dumb drone again.
It’s a one-way idiot machine, but right now, it’s our only safe thod of checking what lies ahead.
“This again?”
Kim Daram grumbled.
Then—
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! That’s enough!”
Mgu snapped beside him.
Kim Daram bared his teeth like a beast and glared at him, but Mgu was already looking elsewhere.
I waited for Daram’s anger to cool and gave Mgu a discreet thumbs up.
Mgu responded with a wink and a finger heart.
“Ah.”
Mgu suddenly let out a short exclamation.
“What is it?”
The cara pointed at , so I moved into the best angle for visibility and walked toward him.
“Oh, the external battery’s dead.”
“External battery?”
“My phone’s seven years old, the battery drains in minutes. I borrowed a power bank from Young-hee, but it’s not charging.”
I thought that powerless battery was probably a perfect taphor for how little affection Young-hee had left for Mgu—but now wasn’t the ti to say that.
“So what happens to the filming?”
“I’ll have to take stills. If I conserve, I might get a few decent shots.”
Mgu wiped the lens clean with his sleeve.
“So if sothing epic’s about to happen, let know. We need sothing cinematic to give the people hope!”
Easier said than done.
In this operation, flashy action is an optional—and dangerous—luxury.
Even with Regular Awakened support, I’m not dumb enough to charge a nest of combat-types with a basic Hunter team.
···
We silently watched the live feed from the dumb drone.
The circular wire spool in Cheon Young-jae’s hands kept rotating, letting out the cable.
Soon, the wire reached its full extension.
“This is it.”
The spool held 250 ters of wire.
Even though the wire alone weighed over 20 kilograms, in this wireless age, 250 ters felt pathetically short.
A good reminder of the limits of wired tech.
Beyond that distance—nothing but darkness.
“What now?”
Kim Daram asked.
The answer was obvious.
“Advance.”
We move with the drone ahead of us.
250 ters ahead.
It’s a precarious distance.
But enough to serve as a buffer zone.
Step, step.
As we walked the tracks, we heard water.
A reservoir-like pool had ford beside the rail.
Inside, sothing frog-like and grotesquely large stirred. Once it sensed us, it sank silently into the black water.
Likely a result of destroyed water pipes pooling up over ti.
Beeeeeeep—
Kim Hanna’s radiation ter started reacting.
The levels were high.
I checked the readings.
Safe for brief exposure.
Maybe equal to ten X-rays in a day—but tolerable.
Past the puddle, the cara suddenly brightened.
Daylight.
This new track indeed connected to the Seoul Station commuter line.
Once, this line would’ve taken us to Busan, Daegu, Gwangju, or Daejeon.
Since we couldn’t rotate the cara, we had to move the drone forward to get the station into view.
Then—
“!”
A sagging, massive, pale gray form was lying across the center of the rail, occupying the gap left by the missing trains.
Just eyeballing it—50 ters long.
A ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) large-class entity.
“A Screar.”
Today’s target.
It was at Seoul Station, as expected.
It must have noticed our approach but, as Kim Hanna said, didn’t perceive us as much of a threat.
We’d see soon enough if we were a pot lid—or a turtle.
“What?”
The cara feed cut out.
At the sa mont—
BOOM!
A pressure wave rippled through the tunnel.
Kim Hanna staggered.
Her face, pale and clammy, looked terrifying beneath the NP equipnt strapped to her back.
I tapped her cheek and checked her pupils.
“You okay?”
Gasp! Gasp!
She was sweating bullets, trying to regain her senses.
“T-They’re asking.”
She stared at Mgu.
“Can you support her?”
Mgu grinned and extended his arm.
Muscular—not gym-sculpted, but the hardened strength of real labor.
Probably more useful in this kind of situation.
“Full-speed retreat.”
I sent Kim Daram and Mgu ahead.
Cheon Young-jae and I took the rear.
Given what we were up against, pointing guns was not enough.
Thud—thud—
Cheon Young-jae set up claymores from his backpack.
The red laser sensors drew death-lines in midair.
BOOM!
Another pressure wave from beyond the tunnel.
A mont later, a horrifying noise:
“DOWN!”
I yelled and ducked.
SWOOSH----
A pole-sized object whooshed overhead with terrifying force and wind pressure.
“Phalanx-type!”
I imdiately shouted the intel to the team.
A mid-class combat type that throws pale spears.
Each spear can pierce the front armor of third-generation tanks.
“Shit.”
Cheon Young-jae’s face turned ghost-white.
Even for experienced Hunters, mid-class combat monsters are a nightmare.
A complete mismatch.
And yet in that mont, I felt it again—I was born to be a Hunter.
Because I felt relief that I hadn’t co here in a tank.
But it wasn’t just mid-class threats.
Quick, familiar footsteps.
If mory served—Caterpillar-types.
Human-target monsters that once road all over Seoul and then disappeared... now showing their faces again.
“Don’t look back! Just run!”
Even if they’re weak individually, getting surrounded now ans ga over.
BOOM!
A claymore detonated behind us.
Even then—
“DOWN!”
SWOOSH----
Another Phalanx spear sliced the darkness, turning it blindingly white for a split second as it passed overhead.
Each ti one of those spears passed us, our clothes flapped like we were caught in a typhoon.
And then—
SKREEEEEEEEE—
A piercing scream ripped through the dark.
No mistake.
That unnerving, brain-piercing, synthetically clear shriek belonged to the Screar-type.
Unfortunately for it, we didn’t bring anything weak enough to cover our ears in fear.
Click—
I cracked open glowsticks and tossed them around.
The enemy was close.
Sure enough, with frantic footsteps, a Caterpillar-type erged, its disgusting worm-like body and torn-open jaws on display.
Distance: 200 ters.
“Fire.”
Tatatatatat!
Using the glowsticks for visibility, we quickly gunned down the first wave.
They’d co back eventually, but for now, it would slow them down.
Of course, the monsters didn’t make it easy.
SWOOOSH----
Another spear grazed above—closer than ever.
“Kim Daram!”
I shouted into the darkness.
“All green!”
He responded imdiately.
A faint light appeared ahead.
One of the glowsticks he must have thrown earlier.
Probably tossed right after the first gunfire.
He grumbles a lot, but when it cos to execution, he’s reliable.
We pressed forward with that light as our guide.
Tatatata!
We fended off the pursuing monsters.
The fork was near.
Beyond the darkness, our train stood with its thick armor—majestic.
Mgu was already filming us from afar.
I quickly fixed my hair and stepped into the shot.
“Hanna?”
“She’s inside the return train.”
“Activate the engine imdiately.”
No need to reconfigure the rails.
They’d already been set to surface level when we first arrived.
BOOM!
The Phalanx-type was still on our tail.
CRACK—!
Its spear embedded into the gentle curve of the fork’s concrete wall.
“You’re moving the train?”
Kim Daram asked.
Cheon Young-jae stood beside her.
Apparently, Daram wasn’t the only one questioning my plan.
I nodded.
“The Phalanx-type’s chasing, though?”
Correct.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Kim Daram knocked down three Caterpillar-types with pinpoint shots.
“What if it blocks us?”
She asked, casual as if killing monsters was routine.
I smiled and stared at the train.
“The train goes through the monster.”
“What?”
“It breaks through.”
In Lovecraft’s tales, a stear passed through outer gods.
Our train is faster—and probably more durable—than that stear.
Why wouldn’t it break through lesser monsters?
Monsters, surprisingly, have fragile skeletons.
I’ve hacked through enough of them with an axe to know.
Vrrrrr—
The generator roared to life.
While Kim Daram and Mgu disconnected the lead car, Cheon Young-jae and I held off the never-ending wave of Caterpillar-types.
Tatatatatat!
Bang! Bang!
“Damn it.”
Shhhk—
Cheon Young-jae drew his kukri.
He was out of ammo.
I stopped him with a hand on the shoulder and stepped forward.
Pointed at a bag full of magazines on the ground.
“Reload mine too.”
I picked up my axes.
Not the new ones—my old pair. The ones molded to my hands.
These are the real .
SKREEEE!
SLASH!
CRACK!
Driven by duty—or maybe just instinct—I crushed them.
I had another goal, too.
CRACK!
Destroy their internal comm chips.
The monsters regenerated endlessly—but I watched their remains turn to light under my axes as I stared into the darkness lit by glowsticks.
Vrrrrrr—
The heart of the train began to beat.
“Set the detonation tir to 5 minutes—no, 3.”
Cheon Young-jae handed a reloaded gun.
“Knew it. You’re the Professor.”
I smiled faintly and looked at the train.
Mgu was nowhere in sight.
“...Hah.”
That bastard. What the hell is he doing?
He should have fild that.
If I had ti to be annoyed about that, it ant I was regaining my composure.
The train began to move.
Rrrrrrrrrr—
The train that once carried tens of thousands of passengers was now loaded with explosives and barreling toward the Seoul Station platform—a sacred monunt of Korean mory and identity.
At unstoppable speed.
CRASH!
It bulldozed the Caterpillar-types in its way.
So of them burst into light.
“Will it make it?”
Cheon Young-jae asked as the train disappeared into darkness.
BOOM!
A pressure wave, then the roar of wind from the Phalanx-type struck. You could hear it slam directly into the armor.
And yet—
RRRRRRRRRRRR—
The train didn’t stop.
Its engine was mounted beneath the lead car.
Even if the front was turned into a porcupine, it would keep going.
BOOM!
The Phalanx-type tried again in panic.
CRACK!
Another monster flattened.
“Go!”
We jumped aboard the return train.
“···C-Captain, I’m sorry.”
Kim Hanna apologized, face pale.
“You did your part.”
The engine fired up.
It wasn’t as good as the lead train, but it would take us ho.
As the train crawled forward, we felt thunder from above, below, and beyond the tunnel.
It hit.
It exploded.
We couldn’t see it—but we felt it.
FWWOOOOOSH—
Through the tunnel, a violent blaze swept like a dragon’s breath.
It licked the edge of our departing train—and vanished.
We turned to each other.
Cheon Young-jae gave a thumbs-up.
Kim Hanna, a radiant smile.
Mgu, that damn finger heart.
Kim Daram... even managed a faint smirk.
Mission accomplished.
“Mgu.”
“What?”
“Did you catch in action?”
“What?”
“. With the axes. Taking down monsters.”
Kim Daram sighed loudly beside —but I ignored him.
“Nope. You told to take Hanna.”
“...”
I guess there’s no such thing as a perfect mission.
Still, this operation provided conclusive evidence for my hypothesis.
Three days after the first confird Screar kill, we learned the truth.
*
“...What the hell is that?”
A massive shape lood through the mist.
If my eyes weren’t lying, it was humanoid.
Woo Min-hee stared at it, horrified.
“ga-class. Giant-type.”
I rembered what I’d heard during our Incheon mission.
A gargantuan humanoid figure had collapsed—transforming the entire area into an erosion zone.
I hadn’t believed it.
But reality often surpasses imagination.
Now, it was happening in front of us.
A grotesque mockery of the human form, absurdly massive, approached—and fell.
The entire region across the river turned into an erosion zone.
And beyond that gray wasteland, monster shadows writhed.
No need to say it aloud.
This was a real offensive.
A massive-scale offensive, in every sense.
···
One thing beca clear.
Monsters can feel rage.
My hypothesis was proven.
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