August 15, 2025. Friday.

It was Liberation Day, and also the start of the golden holiday period. The streets of Seoul were quieter than in previous years.

Was it because the midsummer heat was bearing down? Well, maybe that was part of it. But the more fundamental reason lay elsewhere.

The monster wave that had occurred eight days earlier, on August 7th. The aftershock of that incident still hadn’t faded.

A tense vigilance still hung over South Korea and many other nations.

And in a top-security facility that ordinary people neither knew about nor could access, an urgent secret meeting was being held.

The matter was grave enough to summon the President and all department ministers.

Lee Yongsu, Director of the National Intelligence Service, stepped directly onto the podium to brief them on the incident’s details.

“Yesterday, August 14th. At approximately 19:27, the first movement was detected near Orang County, North Hamgyeong Province. And this is a site photo observed by satellite.”

A photograph appeared on the screen behind Lee Yongsu. Dark specks were scattered haphazardly across the barren foothills.

“Are you saying all those black dots are a horde of monsters?”

“Yes, sir.”

President Park Taeseok asked, his tone utterly devoid of any emotion.

“What’s the exact scale?”

“We estimate around a thousand.”

“What are their movements?”

“As of now, no significant activity has been detected. The monsters are roaming within a radius of 2 to 3 kilometers from their emergence point.”

“This is a different pattern from last time. Why aren’t they moving north or south?”

“That is…”

Director Yongsu’s voice trailed off.

“My apologies. We will identify the cause as quickly as possible.”

“Are there no additional monsters coming out through the rifts?”

“None have been observed so far.”

“Hmm… Is this happening only in South Korea?”

“That’s still under investigation, but so far, South Korea is the only case.”

President Park Taeseok closed his eyes. Silence hung over the conference room until he opened them again.

“This must not leak to the public. You all know what I mean.”

He spoke a moment later, eyes open. Each minister swallowed hard.

The President’s tone remained flat, drained of inflection.

“How do we resolve this situation? I want to hear your thoughts.”

The meeting dragged on. The second Monster Wave on the Korean Peninsula — graying elders put their heads together to solve it.

Opinions ranged from carpet-bombing the area into ash,

to coordinating with neighboring countries, to launching a full-scale subjugation operation with Hunters, to revealing the crisis publicly and declaring martial law for an all-out war.

Ideas flew every which way.

“Association President Lee Chigon. Do you have an opinion?”

The President spoke suddenly, his words aimed at Lee Chigon, who sat at the head of the Hunter Association.

For a moment, every eye in the room fixed on him.

“As the Association President, I’d think you’d have something to say.”

“Ah… well…”

When Lee Chigon hesitated, the President let out a sigh.

“Never mind. How are the communications with him going?”

At the mention of ‘him,’ the ministers traded wary glances.

Chigon paused before answering.

“We’re still attempting to make contact.”

“Still attempting means you haven’t reached him yet?”

“We’re exploring every avenue to get through.”

“To resolve this situation, we need his power. We must secure him, one way or another.”

The President’s tone was flat, but it was a threat plain as day.

“This Association of yours doesn’t seem to do much. Tsk, tsk.”

“The Association President has no plan? Honestly.”

“Can’t even manage his own people while sitting around doing nothing—and he calls himself a minister.”

From a corner of the room, a muttered grumble rippled out—a voice so low even the person right next to him wouldn’t catch it.

But Lee Chigon heard it crystal clear. He was the only awakener in this room.

His fist tightened, unseen by anyone.

‘Go Geonryong… Seo Sihui…’

He recited the names of the two SS-rank hunters under his breath. They were people he simply couldn’t pin down.

Seo Sihui had vanished without a trace thirteen years ago, her fate unknown. Many assumed she was dead.

But Chigon, who had spent two decades in the Association, was certain: Seo Sihui was not the kind of person who dies.

And Go Geonryong…

He had burst onto the scene like a comet in 2011, South Korea’s second SS-rank hunter.

At the same time, he was a man widely regarded as wielding overwhelming power even among the world’s sixty-eight SS-rank hunters.

He was said to be capable of fighting the United States alone. But even his whereabouts were currently unknown.

Unlike Seo Sihui, he regularly sent word through his proxy, and sightings of him trickled in from all over the world.

But when you needed him, he was never there.

“First, order all S-rank hunters abroad to return immediately. If it comes to it, we’ll have to summon all 450 of them. Understood?”

“I’ll try.”

“Association President.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

“I asked if you understood.”

The President’s voice turned icy. Lee Chigon bit down hard on his lower lip.

“…Understood. I’ll make sure it’s done.”

“Let’s end today’s meeting here.”

President Park Taeseok declared the meeting adjourned.

The ministers filed out of the conference room one by one. Lee Chigon held back his nausea and hurried out of the meeting hall.

As soon as he climbed into the waiting car, he lit a cigarette. Then he began to swear, cursing everything in sight.

“Those bastards. Those worthless old fucks—fry ‘em and they’d still feel too good! What the hell do they want from me? Huh? Bring all the S-rank hunters back? That’s something you take up with the guilds, why are you busting my balls! How the hell am I supposed to call back kids who went on expeditions for money!”

He vented his fury.

The truth was, the Association President position was nothing but an empty title. Meaning it came with neither real power nor anything else.

All he did was stamp documents when they came through. Sure, he’d been in the role for five years, but if it weren’t for political pressure, he would have quit long ago.

“Fuck. How the hell am I supposed to control hunters? Are they soldiers? Civil servants? Huh? They’ve got perfectly good guilds—why come at me? And did I cause the monster wave? What did I do wrong that you come to me demanding solutions? You snake-like old bastards never even looked my way before. Might as well kill the lot of you so this country can run properl—”

Brrring!

A call came in as he chain-smoked his premium hand-rolled cigarettes.

It was his personal phone, not the work one. Calls on this line almost never came.

‘An unknown number?’

The caller ID was suspicious, too. Lee Chigon hesitated for a moment, then pressed the answer button.

“…Who is this?”

-Long time no see, Association President.

The reply came immediately. Lee Chigon didn’t recognize the voice on the other end. So he asked again.

“Who is this? How did you get this number and call me here?”

-It’s me.-

“Hey! How am I supposed to know who—”

-It’s me, Go Geonryong.

“Huh?!”

Lee Chigon gasped, swallowing his breath. His hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

As his mind whirled, struggling to find the right words, Go Geonryong spoke again.

“I’d like to meet you. I have something important to discuss.”

32

[You have completely mastered ‘Ancient Swordsmanship Manual—Low-Grade’.]

[You have completely mastered ‘Ancient Body Tempering Manual—Low-Grade’.]

‘Finally.’

Go Byeonggap smiled in satisfaction as he gazed at the hologram. All those days of hardship—slaughtering monsters left and right, sparring with wooden swords against the goblins day after day—were finally paying off.

He drove his sword into the ground and spoke.

«Take a break.»

«Yes, sir!»

The six-member raid team answered in unison.

For reference, Doran hadn’t been assigned to the raid team. There were several reasons.

First, for some reason, Doran couldn’t absorb either the elixir or the Manuals. The reason for that had never been uncovered.

Second, the raid team was already strong enough as it was. There was no need to add another dealer to the lineup.

Besides, for Byeonggap and the rest to grow properly, it was better not to boost their combat power more than necessary.

So the task Byeonggap had given Doran was that of a training instructor for the goblins.

While Byeonggap and the raid team were out subjugating, Doran oversaw the training of the other goblins.

Doran herself found the work interesting and was satisfied with it. Thanks to her relentless (?) instruction, the goblins’ skills were improving day by day.

«I’ll be right back.»

Byeonggap stepped through the gate and entered Asvillam.

Within the vast Asvillam, everyone was hard at work, each focused on their own tasks.

Not wanting to disturb them, Byeonggap moved quietly.

Soon, he reached his personal tent and pulled out two Manuals he had bought earlier.

Ancient Swordsmanship Manual—Mid-Grade.

Ancient Body Tempering Manual—Mid-Grade.

He immediately imprinted the Manuals.

[Would you like to imprint ‘Ancient Swordsmanship Manual—Mid-Grade’?]

[Would you like to imprint ‘Ancient Body Tempering Manual—Mid-Grade’?]

‘Of course.’

The imprinting began.

It was the same process as imprinting the Low-Grade Manuals. A flood of information seeped into his mind, triggering dizziness.

‘I can never get used to this feeling.’

Byeonggap sat down on the sofa until the dizziness subsided, savoring the knowledge from the Manuals.

‘Whoa… What? That’s possible?’

The Mid-Grade Manuals were packed with incredible techniques the Low-Grade ones lacked. He was itching to test them out right away.

After about three minutes, he crossed back into the hidden world.

«Hmm? You’re already back?»

«I was just gone for a bit. Looks like most of the meat’s been moved already.»

«Yes.»

The goblins who had come as laborers were busily hauling the monster carcasses. The work was nearly finished.

«Lord, we’re done!»

«Good job. Take the meat and head into Asvillam. I’ll call you again later, so stay on standby.»

«Okay, got it.»

The workers all returned.

«Let’s proceed.»

«Yes. The boss should be showing up soon now.»

Go Byeonggap wrenched his blade from the earth and strode forward without hesitation.

He hadn’t gone far before a monster thrust its hideous face into view. Just as Dorma had predicted, the boss monster was with them.

“Grrrk! Grrrk!”

“Auuuugh!”

About thirty D-rank orc warriors.

And, guarded by them, a Gigant Orc.

‘A Gigant Orc. I figured as much.’

It was a massive orc standing eight spans tall. Its grotesquely swollen upper body was its hallmark—each arm as thick as four or five grown men put together.

The brute hefted a battle axe that looked too heavy to even lift.

«I’ll take the boss. You handle the grunts.»

«Understood!»

Go Byeonggap took a short breath and recalled the manual he’d just imprinted.

Then he focused his mind. Soon his body flushed hot, and a faint shimmer rose from his skin.

‘So this is internal energy?’

Internal energy.

According to the knowledge gleaned from the manual, internal energy was a searing energy generated by a body tempered to its absolute limit.

It could be used in many ways, and in terms of application, it shared a lot with karma.

‘Still rough, since it’s my first time. But—!’

Byeonggap channeled internal energy and pushed off the ground. He shot forward at a speed he himself could barely believe.

“Wooooaaah!”

The Gigant Orc reacted a beat late and swung its axe down. To Byeonggap’s eyes, the blow crawled like a grub.

He sidestepped with ease and extended his sword. Then—

Boom!

The Gigant Orc’s entire right arm burst apart on impact.

Not only the orc, suddenly missing a limb, but Byeonggap himself stood agape in shock.

‘What the hell?!’

That wasn’t the destructive force he’d intended. It was like slicing tofu and cutting through the cutting board underneath.

The Gigant Orc seized Byeonggap’s moment of hesitation and threw a punch with its remaining fist. A stubborn, brutal will.

But its luck was all wrong.

Byeonggap reached out and caught the fist effortlessly. The Gigant Orc’s punch stopped dead, as if hitting a wall—not advancing a single millimeter.

“A power too great to control even for its wielder.”

Byeonggap muttered and calmly swept his sword across.

Crack!

“Ugh—! Ugh!”

The Gigant Orc’s chest split open. Blood and flesh scattered like shrapnel.

Who in the world would see that wound and think it came from a sword? It looked as though a giant mattock had gouged through.

“Urk… Urk!”

The Gigant Orc crumpled without resistance. Byeonggap, of course, paid no mind to such trivial details.

His focus was fixed solely on the power called ‘internal energy.’

‘This is way too dangerous. If I don’t get a handle on it fast, I’ll end up taking off my own leg.’

A truly dangerous power. An untamed weapon in human form, plain and simple.

Go Byeonggap found himself wondering—could the sheer brutality of his forces cut through a higher world? The corner of his mouth crept upward.