When I was inevitably forced to leave the battlefield, what I regretted most wasn’t a stable future, a position admired by others, or even public recognition.
Ever since I lost my family to monsters, my life had only one purpose.
To erase monsters from this world.
Nothing else mattered.
The world changed.
Those of us who had risked our lives on the frontlines were now relegated to the back, reduced to nothing more than old relics biding our time in irrelevance. Government support dwindled.
My comrades, both seniors and juniors alike, exchanged their tattered combat gear for crisp business suits, trading battlefields reeking of gunpowder and corpses for luxurious offices cooled by air conditioning.
No matter how much I stubbornly clung to war, there was nothing left for me to do.
I tried to return to the battlefield by any means necessary, but all that awaited me were positions as an instructor or some bureaucratic post—paths I had no desire to walk. If I couldn’t stand on the battlefield, I would rather disappear into seclusion.
And if I couldn't kill monsters, then being killed by one in the end wouldn’t be so bad either.
With that thought, I entertained the path of a doomsday nihilist and began preparing for retirement.
Seven years passed.
The man I had once been was unrecognizable, and even I could feel the change.
Only one thing remained unchanged.
My hatred for monsters.
Standing amidst the ruins of the battlefield, any lingering resentment or disappointment toward Kim Daram became irrelevant. She was a useful tool.
No, she was the best tool.
“There’s a Hangman-type inside the factory-style apartment. The vanguard has already cleared out most of the minions.”
“I need covering fire from here.”
“Copy that.”
“It’d be nice to have a backup shooter.”
I glanced at Kim Daram’s eyepatch.
She stared back at me with her one remaining eye.
“I don’t make mistakes.”
“I’ll trust you.”
Click—
I loaded my domestic 12-gauge automatic shotgun and advanced into the abandoned factory.
The remnants of battle were everywhere.
Before we arrived, the Legion-affiliated hunters had already carried out a cleansing operation.
A smear of fresh blood, not yet blackened, was splattered across the floor—evidence that someone hadn’t made it.
Cleansing operations involved eliminating the minions guarding a monster’s lair and reshaping the terrain to favor human fighters before the executioner moved in to finish the main target.
These operations were usually assigned to rookies or inexperienced hunters, but in the absence of hunters, soldiers sometimes took on the role.
Just because they didn’t engage the main monster didn’t mean it was any less dangerous.
There were times when clearing minions was even riskier than fighting the monster itself—just like when King and I entered the ruins near Sejong City.
Thud— Thud— Thud—
A shockwave rippled through the walls.
The monster had detected that its territory had been breached and that its minions had been slain. Now, it recognized us as hostiles and was shifting into combat mode.
I had no shot from here.
We needed to maneuver around the wall, but the small-sized Hangman-type wasn’t an easy target. Though few in number, its minions were deadly.
They were spindle-shaped flying creatures covered in garish colors, similar to human-operated drones, but with the sole purpose of kamikaze attacks.
Each moved at around 60 km/h—not quite bullet speed, but fast enough that if one got too close, blood was guaranteed to spill.
The blood splattered across the ground had likely come from someone who had been caught by one.
“Can we take down the wall?”
“There should be some C4 left.”
“You still have C4?”
“A year ago, a military factory in the Gyeongnam region was still operational. It’s gone now, though.”
A hunter whose name I didn’t know approached us and handed over a hefty plastic explosive.
I shook my head and pointed at the wall.
“My leg’s not in great shape. Think you could set it up for me?”
Without a word, the man sprinted the 20 meters to the wall, planted the C4, and rushed back.
“Detonating.”
The moment I gave the signal, a deafening explosion obliterated the wall that had been separating us from the monster.
Boom—
Through the dense cloud of dust, a stark contrast of black and white flashed like sudden lightning, revealing a motionless, hanging figure.
A humanoid monster, its head drooping as if in a noose.
The Hangman-type.
A newly discovered variant among the small-sized species.
And, as expected of a recently discovered monster, it was a pain in the ass—just as Professor’s Law dictated.
“Distance: roughly 80 meters. Moving in.”
I sent the signal through my communicator and limped toward it.
The creature’s slackened head trembled as its gaping maw began to open. A crimson glow flickered within.
Tang!
A heavy gunshot rang out from behind me.
Boom!
The monster retaliated instantly, unleashing a shockwave and deploying a reflective barrier.
The sound of bullets ricocheting echoed from behind.
“Kim Daram.”
I checked on my partner.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have asked.
But she had lost an eye.
And if the deflected shot had gone wrong, she could’ve been killed.
“Still alive.”
“Good.”
As expected of Kim Daram.
Even with one eye, she had pulled off the intimidation shot flawlessly.
The Hangman had redirected the energy meant for its lethal beam to deploy its reflective barrier instead.
I limped forward, step by step.
The Hangman-type’s minimum effective range for its barrier was about 12 meters.
A long way to go, but no need to rush.
With Hangman-types, slow and steady was the way.
As if on cue, garishly colored spindle-shaped drones burst out of the ruins like a flock of startled pigeons.
“Need cover fire?”
Kim Daram asked.
“No, just keep your eyes on the main body.”
Click—
I chambered a round into my shotgun. It wasn’t as powerful as her sniper rifle, but it was more than enough.
They were coming.
Diving toward me like hawks, each aiming to take me down first.
I pulled the trigger.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each shot blasted outward like an artillery round, forming a wide-spread barrage.
The minions fell like autumn leaves.
This was why I carried a shotgun.
Boom!
Click—
Firing, reloading, and moving—I didn’t stop.
I locked eyes on the monster once more.
Its maw glowed red again.
No need for commands.
Tang!
I felt the wind of the passing bullet.
The Hangman recoiled, deploying another shockwave.
The red glow within its mouth faded again.
Distance: 40 meters.
I quickened my pace slightly.
By the third cycle, intimidation tactics became less effective.
As I closed the gap, more minions erupted from the ground.
Dozens.
I spoke into my communicator.
“Are you sure you did a proper cleansing?”
A sigh came from Kim Daram’s end.
“I did my best.”
“So you’re saying you tried?”
Well, it’s been nearly a decade since Old School Hunters fell from grace.
There’s no reason to expect decent talent to stick around in a field that offers neither proper recognition nor decent pay.
I checked my shotgun’s magazine.
Not much left.
By the time I reached the monster, I’d probably be running short.
I etched the thought of conserving ammo into my mind as I aimed carefully at the garishly colored death streaking toward me.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Another barrage.
Every time I fought against swarming minions, that creeping anxiety returned—the feeling of my magazine slowly depleting with each shot.
Two rounds left.
Boom!
No, one round.
“There’s a minion behind you!”
A third voice rang through the communicator.
The guy who had set up the C4 earlier.
I already knew.
I also knew there was only one.
Wasting my last shell on a single minion felt like a waste.
“...”
I drew my axe.
Shiiing—
Then, I hurled it straight at the charging creature.
Thwack!
The axe buried itself deep, and the minion collapsed, disintegrating into particles.
“What the hell?!”
The guy behind me gasped, but I didn’t pay attention.
The Hangman’s maw was shifting again.
I spoke ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ briefly into the communicator.
“This time, I’ll do it.”
Instead of the shotgun, I pulled out my handgun and aimed just beside the creature.
Then, I fired in rapid succession.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The Hangman didn’t deploy its reflective barrier until the fourth shot, when it could no longer hold back. A shockwave rippled outward, and a cold noise sliced past my ears.
Shhhk—
The bullet I fired barely missed me, brushing through my hair.
“Nice shot,” Kim Daram said dryly.
I stepped forward.
No more minions.
Now, it was just me and the monster staring each other down.
It tried to lash out with its long arms, but that was all it could do.
I had a gun.
It had no defenses left.
Like a fish on a cutting board.
As it flailed helplessly, trying to resist, I felt a strange exhilaration rising within me.
I raised my shotgun.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Shot after shot.
Until the Hangman was torn apart, crushed, shattered into pieces.
Thud!
At last, it fell.
Its twitching, insect-like movements gradually ceased, and its body began to dissolve into particles of light.
The voices of the other hunters, silent until now, crackled through the communicator.
“This is insane. Even with the area cleared, they took down a Hangman with just two people?”
“Kim Team Leader’s always been crazy, but who the hell is that guy? He limped 80 meters and killed it?”
“Did you see that? When the intimidation didn’t work, he just did it himself?”
“...That’s not a human’s heart.”
Nothing worth listening to.
But that last statement—I agreed with it.
What we do isn’t something done with a human heart.
Only a black heart, heavy with hatred, can pull off something like this.
“Good work.”
Kim Daram handed me a towel and a drink.
I wiped my face lightly and drank.
“What’s next?”
“I’ll brief you on the move.”
As I climbed into the armored vehicle, I could feel the shift in how people looked at me.
Most were a mix of admiration and disbelief.
Some, though, were sending me challenging glares.
The weaker a man was, the more likely he was to act like that.
Maybe these were the troublemakers Kim Daram had warned me about.
I settled into my seat, relaxing my body and muscles as I listened to the next briefing.
“Next target is a Necromancer-type. Luckily, not too many zombies, but there’s a Mutation Nest nearby.”
“What kind of creature?”
“A kestrel.”
“Never even saw one of those in China.”
“I assigned the best shooters to handle the Mutations. We only need to deal with the Necromancer.”
“Got it.”
The armored vehicle came to a stop.
The scenery before us—a ruined traditional market with a collapsed arcade.
Nothing too difficult.
Kim Daram would cover me, and I’d move in under her support to take them out.
Against these relatively outdated, weaker Necromancer-types, the fight barely lasted eight minutes.
Thud!
I looked down at the fading corpse of the monster, its body dissolving into light.
Easy.
Simple.
But not if I had fought it alone.
Every time the monster tried to eliminate me, Kim Daram forced it to deploy its reflective barrier, creating an opening for me to close in and finish it.
A straightforward tactic, but few could execute it properly.
Many hunters had been shot by their own bullets due to reflective barriers.
Even those who managed to get into melee range often failed to overpower the monster and ended up being brutally killed.
At least in this kind of standardized battle, no one had a higher success rate than Kim Daram and me.
“Good work.”
Kim Daram handed me another towel and drink.
“The kestrel?”
“No sign of it. Maybe it’s out hunting.”
“Let’s move.”
No need for many words between us.
We both knew.
Our teamwork hadn’t changed much since the past.
Compared to China, this battlefield was almost laughable.
Nearly 80 support hunters were spread across different locations, handling area-clearing.
No cultists.
No rebels.
All we had to do was show up and kill the monsters.
Thwack!
Another one.
Boom!
And another.
Tat-tat-tat-tat!
One more.
“...”
This wasn’t even a battle.
It was a hunt—a dull safari hunt.
“Good work.”
Each time I killed a monster, Kim Daram handed me a towel and water.
Partly out of habit, but also a precaution from back when Mutation Particles weren’t fully understood—when hunters wiped themselves down after every fight to prevent contamination.
Some people called it a meaningless ritual now.
But we, the hunters of our prestigious school, carried on the traditions built by our predecessors.
In that sense, Kim Daram and I were still students of the school.
Still hunters of the school.
“What’s next?”
As I carefully wiped my bloodied axe with a soft cloth, I asked Kim Daram.
She looked a little tired.
“Can we take a break?”
“You can rest in the vehicle. What, your stamina dropping?”
“I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“I’m older than you.”
“Just ten minutes.”
“Five.”
For just a moment, the cold voice from my Professor days slipped out.
Kim Daram’s single eye widened as she looked at me.
“...Senior.”
“What?”
“You really haven’t changed at all.”
“...Me?”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
Kim Daram averted her gaze.
Whether out of guilt or memories of when she had obediently followed me like a tool, I wasn’t sure.
Either way, it didn’t matter.
I found joy in killing monsters.
It gave me a reason to keep living.
Thwack—
Another monster met its end against my axe, its body breaking like an old tree.
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Beyond the fading particles, I saw the faces of ordinary people watching.
Awe.
Reverence.
And fear.
“A... A monster.”
“Twelve in a day... Is that even possible for an Old School hunter, not an Awakened?”
“Wait, isn’t that the one? The guy Kim Pil-seong kept bragging about taking down?”
“The Professor.”
And the murmurs began.
I ignored the familiar tune of hushed whispers and turned to Kim Daram.
“Good work.”
She handed me another towel and water.
I soaked the towel and wiped my face.
Then, I looked back.
The monsters had faded into particles of light, their remnants scattered in the air.
Beautiful, shimmering.
And in that moment, I knew.
“...”
I still longed for the battlefield.