Chapter 19

Chapter 19
## Chapter 19: Rookies Handle a Grade-2 Erosion Core

Two fresh hunters taking down a Grade-2 Erosion Core. To make it even better, the location is Tsushima Island. If we pull this off without a hitch, the island might actually fall under Korean sovereignty, all because of the efforts of Han Sang-ah and myself.

It is a flawless strategy—leveraging the momentum from my recent television appearance while tapping into the country’s patriotic fervor. Throw in the rescue of the abducted fishermen, and it’s the ultimate PR win.

Is there a more efficient path to becoming a national icon without facing any public pushback?

— Understood. I can’t give you a formal guarantee, but even if our preparations are made and the plan fails, we can just act as if the attempt never took place.

“That’s precisely what I had in mind.”

The dynamic between Taebaek LLC and the Association President is peculiar. I highly doubt this specific conversation will ever find its way back to Yoon Sung-hyun.

Once the call ended, I lingered, watching the thick mist for a moment before clicking my tongue in annoyance.

“It looks like we have a lot of grunt work ahead of us.”

Tsushima Island is quite expansive, roughly double the area of Geoje Island. Tracking down and destroying a Grade-2 Erosion Core in this terrain is going to eat up a significant amount of our time.

“We shouldn’t discount the possibility of Grade-3 or even unranked Erosion Cores popping up either.”

Han Sang-ah, having finished gathering her gear, stood at my shoulder and added her thoughts.

“That doesn’t bother me.”

I have a reliable trump card. I smoothed down the fabric of my gloves and replied with a confident air. With the mana reserves contained within these gloves, I can hold out for exactly five minutes—even someone like Lee Se-eun could manage to stay alive for that long.

“Based on the intelligence we gathered, the fishermen are being detained at a shrine…”

Their prison is a traditional shrine. Tsushima is home to two major ones: Kaijin Shrine and Watatsumi Shrine.

Looking at the distance, our first stop is Kaijin. If they aren’t there, we pivot to Watatsumi.

“It’s roughly 50km away. Not an impossible trek to make and return from.”

For active hunters, a round trip of that distance is manageable within a few hours, provided we don’t run into any major roadblocks.

“The real challenge is securing the fishermen and transporting them back to this spot.”

We leave light, but we’ll be coming back heavy. Han Sang-ah seemed to chew on my words for a second. Seeing her lost in thought, I broke the silence.

“Dump all the heavy supplies we brought with us.”

It was time to pivot. Han Sang-ah gave me a look full of silent questions.

“What are you planning?”

“We’re going to commandeer a mid-size van and travel light.”

The plan was simple: sprint to the shrine, eliminate the monsters on-site, and pack the survivors into the vehicle.

An eight-seater should suffice. There are fifteen people missing, but we can make them fit if we get creative.

“Then we floor it back to this location.”

Upon arrival, we drop them off and signal the Maritime Agency for a pickup boat. We get them on board and send them home.

“…You really think that’s going to fly?”

“Why wouldn’t it? The logic is surprisingly straightforward.”

Drive to the shrine. Clear the threats. Load the cargo. Speed back.

Three easy steps.

“It’s far too dangerous.”

“Did you come all the way out here expecting a walk in the park?”

Han Sang-ah let out a soft mumble in response to my sharp retort.

“I didn’t think it would be *this* suicidal. Fine, I get it.”

“Are you taking the wheel?”

She gave a small nod.

“My grandfather was certainly impressed by my driving.”

Impressed, was he?

“In what sense was he impressed?”

She looked at me and said,

“He sat in the passenger seat exactly once because he was worried about my ability. He’s refused to get in a car with me ever since.”

“That doesn’t sound like he was impressed. That sounds like a trauma.”

Something life-threatening must have occurred during that ride. She just shook her head at my skepticism.

“If he’s so intimidated that he won’t ride with me again, doesn’t that prove how high my skill level is?”

“Sure, it’s a validation of a very specific kind.”

Seeing her nod with a casual “Right?”, I just scratched my head in disbelief. There was no point in arguing about safety now.

“Driving is simple. I don’t even have to put in much effort.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She replied with a touch of pride,

“Other drivers tend to swerve out of my path anyway.”

Probably because they have a strong will to live, I thought, though I kept the comment to myself.

Most people value their survival. Regardless of her technique, she clearly makes other motorists think, “If I don’t move, I’m dead.” It’s an intimidating talent.

How should I categorize it? Since it terrifies others into staying away… maybe “Aggressive Defensive Driving”?

The best defense is a relentless offense, as the saying goes.

“If you’re so against it, you can drive.”

“No thanks. I’m much better at handling monster disposal for the time being.”

Dealing with any spirits or beasts that try to tail the van—that’s where I shine.

“Agreed. Let’s get the van ready.”

We climbed inside. It was at that moment that I truly began to understand the reality of Han Sang-ah’s “aggressive defensive driving.”

“Hey, we’re pushing past 150 kph.”

“Is this too slow for you?”

I clicked my tongue. It’s no wonder her grandfather avoids the shotgun seat like the plague. Is this a transport vehicle or a high-speed coffin?

She wasn’t a bad driver, per se. She was just violently assertive.

“Looks like the targets are on the move.”

“I see them. It’s go time.”

I did a final check on the climbing rope attached to the head of my spear. It was rated for 3 tons—I hoped the manufacturer wasn’t lying.

There was only one way to verify. Wearing a manic grin, I launched the spear at one of the creatures chasing us, keeping the rope end firmly secured.

The spear acted like a harpoon, slamming into the skull of a walking corpse. *Thwack*—I gave the rope a sharp tug, ripping the weapon back to me.

“Excellent, it holds up.”

That confirmed the rope was sturdy enough. I stopped holding back. I took up my position as a harpooner from the window of the racing van.

“This feels exactly like deep-sea fishing!”

Is this the draw of Tsushima? As my spear whistled through the air, I noticed a corpse attempting to leap from the side of the road onto our vehicle. I leaned out of the frame and threw a heavy punch.

The overeager attacker burst with a sickening crunch, its ribcage caving in before it tumbled uselessly onto the asphalt.

“The smell is revolting.”

That was Han Sang-ah’s blunt observation. Punching through decaying flesh with my bare hands had left my knuckles covered in a mixture of rot, fluid, and dark blood.

“I’m aware. Just deal with it.”

Or she could put on a mask. Whenever things got cluttered in her line of sight, she cleared them away using her specific ability.

“We seem to have more fans than I anticipated.”

“Those aren’t fans—they’re monsters.”

There were nearly a hundred of them trailing behind the van.

“The ghost ship was a harder fight.”

Individually, the ghosts and corpses from that vessel were more formidable. Here on the island, the threat was purely about the overwhelming volume of the swarm.

On the ship, space was tight, so it was quality over quantity. On the island? There are no boundaries—just endless wave tactics.

The primary advantage of the undead has always been their numbers. They just keep standing back up.

The road was winding, with the sea churning on one side. A single mistake and we’d be taking a swim.

“Ahaha.”

Wait, was she actually laughing?

None of the chaos seemed to rattle the woman behind the wheel.

With her eyes reflecting a strange light, her foot buried in the pedal, and her hands whipping the steering wheel—I finally caught a glimpse of the deep-seated madness lurking within her.

“You acted like you were against this when I brought it up, but you were actually loving the idea, weren’t you?!”

I kept raining spears down on the charging corpses and shouted over the wind at Han Sang-ah.

“It *is* dangerous.”

As she spoke, my body was thrown violently to the side. I grabbed the window frame, let out a grunt, and held on.

*Screeeeech*—the van’s center of gravity shifted precariously. Heavy black tire marks were etched onto the road like strokes of ink on traditional hanji paper.

“You are absolutely out of your mind.”

Through the turbulence, I continued to pick off the corpses and spirits trying to latch onto us.

Our speed stayed above 150, occasionally hitting 170. Traveling 50km at this velocity? In theory, we’d be there in twenty minutes.

That is, assuming we don’t flip the van first!

“I have a zero-accident record so far.”

“That is a total lie.”

“I’m serious. My grandfather banned me from the road for three years, but before that, I went three whole months without a single accident.”

Should I be impressed that she survived three months with this style, or terrified that she hasn’t touched a steering wheel in three years?

“You are one crazy woman.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Yeah, you’re a real flower!”

I gave her a sarcastic gesture while tearing through three corpses and two spirits in mid-air.

“One of them is hanging onto the back.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just keep driving.”

I didn’t even need to intervene. Another violent turn sent the clinging monster flying off into the distance.

“Having faith in your driver’s ability? That’s what I call energizing!”

“Then again, you’re so good the elderly might just fall into a permanent sleep! Forever!”

I didn’t actually trust her skills. I just trusted that I could survive the crash if it happened.

Regardless, proving her three-month streak wasn’t a fluke, we arrived at our goal without a scratch on us.

“How was the ride?”

“What, you want a gold star? Stick to the plan. Don’t slow down here…”

Before I could even finish my sentence, the van let out a roar like a mechanical gut-check and lunged forward again.

“Yeah, keep the pressure on. Good girl.”

We had refined the plan while on the road to the shrine:

The path leading up to the shrine is a series of stairs flanked by torii gates—those traditional Japanese archways.

Our job was to level them.

“One, two… Ram them.”

Just like that. *Boom*—the torii splintered into pieces as the van plowed through.

The tires took a beating on the pedestrian stone steps. The vehicle bucked wildly as it fought its way up the incline. This was definitely going to ruin the van’s longevity, but…

It wasn’t our vehicle anyway, right?

“You’re doing great. Don’t stop.”

Smashing through archways as we climbed? We’d reach the top in seconds.

“There! I see the captives.”

It was a total speed run. There were too many corpses following us. Could we clear them all and then safely evacuate the fishermen?

That would be a viable strategy with twenty people. Not with just the two of us.

“Stopping now.”

As she said the word, the van went momentarily airborne before *brrrrack*—it skidded to a violent halt in the center of the shrine courtyard, kicking up a cloud of dust and gravel.

“Get the people to safety!”

I swung my spear, now wreathed in black flames, creating a barrier against the tide of corpses rushing the shrine behind us.

“I’m going to leave a little supernatural mystery at this shrine.”

I whispered to myself as I slashed the spear across the stone. The Paradox Flame coiled around the blade and bled out across the ground.

The pursuing corpses hit the black fire zone, lost all traction, and slid backward, flailing helplessly.

“What did you just do?”

“It’s a secret.”

The Paradox Flame had consumed the very concept of friction. Now, the entrance to this shrine would be a frictionless zone forever—unless they decided to tear it down and start from scratch.