“...They don’t have good relations with the local Hunter industry.”
A petrostates’ oil money versus a new provider of energy to replace oil. The relationship can’t be friendly. To be precise, the oil money side wants to draw its sword unilaterally. They’ve lobbied heavily, claiming magic stone energy’s safety isn’t verified, so Arica’s conversion rate to magic stone energy remains surprisingly low. It’s partly because the U.S. itself is a major oil producer. In our country, oil output is negligible, so the switch is happening relatively quickly.
I activated Leaf-Sprout Skill swiftly: A-rank, B-rank, B-rank, E-rank, non-awakened. No sooner had I scanned that than I got a signal.
“Ugh...”
A headache surged from mana deficiency. I staggered, and a few of them panicked. Seizing the mont, I shouted:
“My mana very small! I want Earring, mana buff please. Ugh, ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) my head... My passive skill, Mana Manage it! Mana shock!”
My mana pool is tiny, and my always-active skill consus so much mana that daily life beca impossible—so give the earring, basically. They muttered incomprehensibly. One of the n who’d brought opened a box set aside. My seized items lay inside. Thank goodness, they’re intact.
“Earring stat small. Barrier only B-class. I no use barrier.”
They have A-rank gear, after all. And a B-rank barrier won’t help much in a getaway. I staggered again, sending them pleading looks, and they placed the earring against my ear. At least I got the earring back. As for the Cat Set, clearly equipnt—they almost certainly won’t return it.
‘Grace can only be identified by or Myeong-woo, right?’
Moreover, it hasn’t been disclosed; I could pass it off as a re ornant. There’s surely no hunter here sensitive enough to detect Grace’s magic power. Then...
“My...”
What should I call it? If I just said “jewel,” they’d hesitate. Sothing important... a keepsake? What’s keepsake in English? Don’t know. Then “gift from my beloved“... Beloved in English? Girlfriend? “Girlfriend present” sounds weak. Engagent must be... engagent in English? No clue.
“My wedding bracelet!”
That ought to get through.
“Blue diamond bracelet, my wedding bracelet. Co back please... very important.”
“...Wedding?”
“Yes! My... fiancée present!”
Right, fiancée. Anyway, I signaled that it’s sothing important, just jewelry, hoping they’d hand it back. They seed to be the custors, so they held decision-making power.
“I believe Hunter Han Yujin is unmarried.”
A non-awakened spoke fluent Korean. Damn, they should’ve ntioned the translator earlier—embarrassing. My neck flushed, but I answered boldly.
“She’s my fiancée, but she doesn’t know English well. And my jacket, gloves, boots, belt are all custom for —could you return them? I won’t wear them again. No one else can use them, so they have no resale value. If these people demand paynt, I’ll repay them.”
If I could access my inventory, I could create magic stones right now. The translator, Sanchez, watched silently. She looked similar to the other awakeners in build and features, but her na suggested a different nationality. I’m no expert.
“If you cooperate, we’ll accommodate you as much as possible.”
“Then let make one phone call.”
“First, we’ll return the bracelet.”
Grace was placed on the table, and my arms were freed—though my hands remained bound. They turned my bindings to the front for comfort, fitted Grace on my wrist. Thank goodness. anwhile, the A-rank man handed a small pouch to his companions. I faintly sensed mana—magic stones, it seed.
‘My senses are sharper now.’
I hoped my body could handle it. Next, they draped a cloth over and a veil covering everything but my eyes. What do they call this? I’d heard it before.
“Wait a mont, it feels hot.”
“It’s not humid; it’s fine. Do not reveal your face, and speak softly. There are many who target Hunter Han Yujin.”
Sanchez said, looking puzzled. Apparently several S-rank hunters coveted Chattersbox’s breeding rights—too extre a reaction. They must rember my reset. Better to keep a low profile until they understand the situation.
I obediently donned the loose garnt. It was roomy enough that even holding Gyeol in my arms wasn’t obvious. I followed them outside, where an open-top jeep waited. The A- and B-rank hunters plus the translator got into my jeep; the other two took another.
The surroundings were deserted. On a dirt expanse, a square building stood. Bewildered, I whispered to the translator beside .
“Where is this?”
“Africa.”
“...What?”
Why Africa all of a sudden? I’d assud Arabia or Iran. I knew little about Africa. Gold-fur’s ho dungeon was in Central Africa; security there must be poor, dungeon leaks severe. And...
“Huh?”
People were gathering ahead, adults and children alike, each clutching weapons. I scanned them: E- to F-rank awakeners. Amid dozens, a dungeon gate glowed red.
“Wait, isn’t that dungeon about to break open?”
“Yes, it seems so.”
The translator replied coolly. The others showed no fear—in fact, many were excited, laughing. Though I didn’t understand their language, I heard eager voices.
“We should stop so the car doesn’t get damaged.”
She rose and looked toward the crowd around the gate.
“It’s likely a lower-rank dungeon—F or E rank.”
“Even if it’s low rank, it’s dangerous.”
“A lower-rank dungeon break here is a festival and a blessing.”
“...A festival?”
“Yes. Lower-rank dungeon monsters are often non-venomous. They’re edible without special processing.”
“...I see.”
Indeed, so dungeon monsters are safe to eat. In Japanese dungeons, even Solemnis, monster at was consud. But a dungeon break is...
“Waaaah!”
The dungeon burst open. People cheered, raising weapons.
“Kueek!”
Monsters like boars with cattle horns poured out. Quite large for F-rank, but slow. Three or four hunters sward each boar, swinging weapons. Though risky at tis, they generally hunted without injuries.
Yes, hunting. Like catching wild ga, not monsters. With dozens of hunters, the boars were wiped out instantly. With the regular monsters dead and piled high, the dungeon glowed again.
“Aisa!”
“Aisa!”
Amid the cries, one hunter stepped forward: D-rank. From the gate, the boss monster—a giant red bull—erged. Hunter Aisa brandished her spear and charged. Other hunters expertly cast support skills on her.
“Kuwaag!”
Aisa’s spear pierced the bull’s neck in one thrust. With a thud, the bull collapsed and the dungeon turned blue. Aisa raised her spear skyward as cheers echoed. After the hunt, people bustled to prepare the ga—skinning hides, trimming at—peaceful despite the tallic stench of blood.
“A single lower-rank dungeon like that in the village ans no one goes hungry.”
The jeep restarted. Even seated, I watched people cheerfully process food.
“It’s safer than entering a dungeon to hunt, so they eagerly await dungeon breaks. Unlike in Korea, catching monsters this way causes little damage.”
In a developed city, roads, facilities, buildings would be destroyed—impossible there. The jeep rattled up dust clouds as the cheers faded behind, yet the scene remained vivid before my eyes.
Though the world has changed, people live in their own ways. Even a lower-rank dungeon break is an ergency to be prevented—but under the sa sky, so regard it as a festival.
I felt a hard-to-describe emotion. Perhaps a glimpse of how a man, weary from traversing countless worlds, still strives to live on.
“A dungeon is essentially a resource deposit. You can’t farm the land, but you can hunt and gather.”
“...Yes. You even bring out water and lumber.”
I wondered if that lake dungeon from before would’ve been more beneficial left intact. Water surged without any monsters, non-toxic perhaps—pristine Class-One water. Such a waste.
The jeep pressed on through the trackless terrain. Though in Africa, I still had no idea where exactly. There were no people around; if they freed , I’d soon have to crawl back to civilization. No maps, no sense of direction; I’d wander until the fuel ran out, stranded. And I might encounter lions or elephants.
“I’ve always wondered—an elephant is stronger than a lower-rank monster, right?”
“Sotis escaping F-rank monsters get devoured by packs of predators. Elephants are certainly formidable.”
Mid-ranks have strong mana protection, so normal attacks don’t work. As we talked, I tried discreetly asking where we were, but she wouldn’t say. Even knowing the country, escape would be hard.
“Are you Arab? You speak Arabic?”
“There are Arabic-speaking Arabs in North Africa.”
What? I’d never heard that. I know little world geography, and Africa even less... Ms. Sanchez kindly explained that Egypt lies in Africa, northward is the diterranean, and across the Red Sea is Saudi Arabia. The diterranean... France is nearby? If I reached France, contacting Noah might be easier. But I had a car, no boat. Should’ve stashed a boat.
After so driving, I saw helicopters on standby.
“We’ll blindfold you again.”
They covered my eyes completely. Did they think I could orient from the air? I still couldn’t.
‘Could Hamin locate ?’
In the past maybe, but now I’ve lost so many possessions. I changed my phone number, my Hunter License is less than a year old, my ID I haven’t carried in ages. Even if they traced , Africa’s far; it’d take ages.
The helicopter’s rotors slowed, and we descended. After a short walk, the air felt refreshingly cool. They removed my blindfold, revealing a stately reception room—perhaps a mansion or hotel. Ms. Sanchez lifted my veil and gestured for to sit. Gyeol, freed from the cloth, shivered as if relieved, then settled on my shoulder.
“Would you care for a drink?”
“Yes. Juice, please.”
I can’t drink it myself, so I gave it to Gyeol. With my hands bound, I couldn’t.
Ms. Sanchez left the room. Gyeol whispered in my ear:
“Lucky, Daddy. They must be rich.”
“You think rich people are better?”
“If you’re going to be held captive anyway, rich is better. Good food, comfy bed. They’ll take good care of you!”
True enough. I wondered what local cuisine was like. I was craving Korean food—kimchi and boiled pork. It’s kimjang season; I’d have made kimchi myself if things were normal. Chatterbox threw his party at kimjang ti. Yerim would’ve loved the pork, I’m sure.
‘I guess a little isn’t enough. If I go through the trouble, I should make plenty to share with the building too. Myeong-woo and I could make it delicious. I wonder if Noah wants kimchi, or Hamin, or Min, who probably makes his own at ho. Kyunghun said he doesn’t. I must send Chief Song plenty. Does Seong Hyunjae even eat kimchi?’
But this is Africa. Send ho. My younger sibling’s birthday is less than a month away—gotta prepare the party by around the 20th. Year-end gets busy: greeting cards, New Year’s Day, Lunar New Year soon after.
“I want to go ho.”
“ too, Daddy.”
“Then, Daddy—”
“Uncle will co soon. I can wait.”
Right. As Gyeol said, Yuhyun will find soon. Ms. Sanchez returned with the juice, set the cup on the table, and loosened my bindings.
“If you use your inventory, you’ll be bound again. And we’ll separate you from your fairy dragon.”
“Yes, yes. Gyeol, have so juice.”
I tilted the cup for Gyeol. Until I retrieve the Cat Set, escape alone is impossible. At least with my jacket I could use stealth—likely among S-rank hunters here, so invisibility buff or transforming into a Delowz would be safest.
“May I use my phone or tablet? I just want to search how the party ended.”
“Instead, I can turn on the TV.”
A large screen slid out from the wall. Sanchez switched to a Korean Hunter broadcast. Flas filled the screen. Not Korea, though.
[“At 7 a.m. Korea ti today, Hunter Haeyeon Guildmaster Han Yuhyun led an assault on the anti-Hunter organization ’Terror’ at the New York Hunter Association.”]
...Yuhyun? Then a U.S. network logo appeared, showing Yuhyun’s figure trampling soone’s neck. Sparks flew around my brother scanning the area. The black blade in his hand—the Dominator’s Sword from Japan. I still have to get it back!
“This morning? That was hours ago, right? Have I been unconscious that long?”
I shuddered at the ominous feeling.
“The Chatterbox party... how long since you defeated the Sesung Guildmaster at the final event?”
“Party... five days ago.”
Chatterbox? Sanchez murmured as she answered.
“Hunter Han Yujin was found just yesterday. The party was on the fifth.”
What? Five days?! I bolted upright. Yuhyun!
[“Five days since the disappearance of Director Han Yujin—The Korean Hunter Association, cooperating with the U.S. governnt and the Hunter Association...”]
“Let make that phone call!”
What date is it today?! The 10th? The 9th? I couldn’t recall. Panicked, I stamped my foot as a breaking news banner appeared:
[“Guildmaster Seong Hyunjae to wed on January 1.”]
...What? I rubbed my eyes. What did you say? Gyeol and I gaped in shock.
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