Chapter 38

Chapter 38
## Chapter: 38

### Chapter Title: Slime Pursuit on the Rails

—

Discharging projectiles at the swarming abominations from the roof of a high-speed locomotive. Granted, the creatures were immense, but given the gap between our positions, hitting the mark was going to be a challenge.

“One. Two.”

I nocked a shaft to the string with practiced speed and drew a few steadying breaths. At the tip of the weapon, a void-dark fire engineered to erode magical defenses flickered into existence, gradually thickening.

I let the strained string snap forward, and the projectile traced an ebony arc through the air before slamming into one of the slimes trailing us from the rear.

The second the slime solidified a section of its translucent form to parry the shot, the Paradox Flame gathered at the head spilled over its flank.

“Once the blaze subsides, focus your fire on that specific one.”

Taking them down one by one. In my prime, I could have carpeted this entire stretch of land with Paradox Flame and manipulated it without a second thought…

But presently, my capacity was limited to this. If the shafts actually pierced them, I could have loosed several in a row, but these creatures refused to let anything sink in.

The Paradox Flame, smeared across them like a thick glaze, erupted with intensity, chewing through the slime’s innate magical protection.

It didn’t take long for the embers to fade. The moment they vanished, I prepared my subsequent shot, and the accompanying hunters redirected their offensive toward that weakened slime.

—It’s actually working.

The stunned exclamation crackled through the comms. Naturally, it hadn’t finished the creature off. Fissures like shattered glass webbed across its bulk, but that was the extent of the damage.

“What, you assumed I was making it up?”

I had no reason to lie. I immediately sent another shaft flying toward a different slime.

“We might be running out of clock here.”

“I’m aware.”

Before we could fully strip away their magical plating, those slimes would likely reach the train first.

“In that case, we meet them with spears.”

My priority was to peel away as much of that resistance as I could manage before they made contact. I loosed another projectile, and once again, a cascade of obsidian fire rained down upon the crown of a slime.

By calculating the vibration frequency of my internal mana, I gauged the time required to erode their defenses against their closing velocity, and reached a grim verdict.

“We’ll be forced to confront two of them after they scale the carriages.”

There was no way to buy more time. Some variables simply couldn’t be controlled. While I whittled down their protection with Paradox Flame, the other hunters were pouring every ounce of their power into the slimes I had already exposed.

It wasn’t long before my forecast turned into reality.

Two slimes reached us with their magical resistance still fully functional, while the others arrived stripped of their shielding.

“I’ll find a way to manage the two that still have their armor.”

The rest of the work falls to you lot.

—I’m moving up too.

Lee Se-eun was transferring command of the lead car to the other hunters and making her move. It was a reasonable call given the circumstances.

“Best of luck.”

I offered a quick word of encouragement to Han Sang-ah as she unsheathed her blade, then I tightened my grip on my spear and moved toward my designated targets.

“It’s absolutely freezing out here.”

The moment the creatures latched onto the moving train, the already biting air dropped to a bone-shattering temperature. It was the kind of frost that turned your breath to ice the moment you stood still.

“Vile things.”

Their strikes weren’t focused lines or points—they attacked as broad surfaces. They weren’t aiming for me specifically, but rather sweeping the entire deck I occupied with that undulating sludge.

Dealing with this required a complete shift in strategy compared to fighting standard monsters or humans.

Experience had taught me that taking a defensive stance against these entities was incredibly hazardous. Fortunately, I had gauged their attributes during their approach, so there was no need for a cautious opening exchange.

“Ugh…”

A glob of flung sludge collided with my mana-enhanced equipment. The gear soaked up the physical force, but the freezing chill that seeped into my limbs afterward made my body shudder.

I summoned the Quad Shadow Spears, and numerous azure streaks of light blossomed in the air around me before whipping into the slime. Every time a strike landed, the impacted areas turned rigid, echoing with the sharp ring of metal hitting metal.

The skirmish stretched on. The perspiration running down my forehead turned to solid ice against my skin.

“Finally got one of them exposed!”

The Paradox Flame had effectively incinerated the magical protection of one of the two shielded slimes.

Only one remained.

“No way…!”

In that split second, the final slime began to churn and froth, sprouting dozens of tendrils that lunged toward the companion right beside it.

“That’s a dirty trick!”

It pulverized the internal nucleus of its fellow slime and consumed the mass entirely, doubling its own size in an instant.

“Since when did slimes get this clever?”

Then, it proceeded to smother the Paradox Flame clinging to its hide using the sludge that had already lost its resistance. The version of Paradox Flame I was currently wielding relied on magical resistance as its primary fuel.

By wrapping itself in mucus that lacked that resistance?

The fire went out. It was the same logic as dousing a wick—remove the fuel, and the light dies.

“I’m so annoyed I’m losing my words.”

It lacked a face or any recognizable features, but the way it pulsated made it clear it was mocking my efforts.

Being looked down upon by a brainless blob. What a disaster.

“You’re laughing? You think this is funny?”

I couldn’t be certain if it was truly expressing mirth. It might have been my own frustration talking. Regardless, it got under my skin.

During those 35 years spent on the other side, the number of enemies who had tried to counter Paradox Flame—if I piled their remains, I could have filled the entire Yangchon-eup Hakun-ri Landfill Site No. 1 in Gimpo, Gyeonggi Province.

There was no chance none of them had tried your little maneuver.

“You’re finished.”

I swung my spear, now heavily wreathed in Paradox Flame, once more. Simultaneously, the creature attempted the same defensive move as before.

However, the moment my spear made contact, the sludge it touched began to rotate with violent force. Penetration Technique, or Intrusion Weight—call this little gimmick whatever you like.

“I specifically told Han Sang-ah not to bother with this in actual combat.”

But every rule has its exceptions. I don’t care about the lower-tier rankings—if the situation demands it, I’ll pull out every trick in the book. You can’t survive by being too rigid.

The mana behind my strike whipped the resistant sludge and the non-resistant sludge together into a frantic slurry.

Now, the slime’s attempt to snuff out the Paradox Flame with neutral mucus was completely neutralized.

“Go on, laugh some more.”

The slime stopped its taunting movement. I guess the comedy hour was over.

“Let’s keep this going, you overgrown puddle.”

I bet it was wishing it had stayed as two separate entities now. That last move proved it had enough intelligence to feel regret.

Too late for that, though.

“Aigoo, my head…”

I pushed through the throbbing migraine caused by the high-precision mana manipulation and maintained the pressure. There’s a reason I call this a minor gimmick.

It’s horribly inefficient. If you possess the skill to control mana with this much detail, there are far more effective ways to kill.

But against this massive, fluid monstrosity right here, this specific trick happened to be the most devastating option available.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

With a resounding snap, the heavy blade shattered the frozen slime sludge and tore into the center, detonating within the creature’s mass.

“That makes two down… no, just one left! Yoo Chan-seok has it under control.”

Lee Se-eun pulled out a replacement greatsword and cast a glance toward Yoo Chan-seok’s position.

“Should we jump in to assist?”

She observed the duel for a moment before shaking her head at her subordinate’s inquiry and sliding the massive sword back onto her harness.

“No, just stay back and watch.”

Yoo Chan-seok already had that victory secured.

“More importantly, what’s the casualty count?”

“Two fatalities… eight wounded. Two of those injured are among the Zanabi recruits.”

Lee Se-eun’s expression darkened. They were in a sorry state. Even if this hadn’t been an official request to clear a rank-1 Erosion Zone, it would have been a devastating engagement for standard-tier hunters.

“Log the deaths with the Association and administer basic field medicine to the wounded for now.”

Real medical intervention would have to wait until they reached Europe—specifically Warsaw, Poland. One of the Zanabi hunters asked with a tone of concern.

“Will the local warlords be willing to cooperate?”

Lee Se-eun gave a firm nod.

“They’ll have to. Unless they’re looking for a fight they can’t win.”

This involved wounded hunters, not some minor political disagreement. Small-scale friction might be open to negotiation, but Lee Se-eun didn’t compromise on things like this.

“Get in touch with them immediately. Which warlord is currently in power there?”

“He goes by the name Majurka.”

The strongman who held Poland, Ukraine, and Lithuania under his thumb.

“He oversees the agricultural sectors and mining operations across all three regions.”

Majurka’s territories produced vast quantities of wheat, potatoes, and rye, in addition to the coal and oil extracted from the earth.

“Which hunter firms are currently under contract with Majurka?”

To manage farming and mining in a wasteland like that, one would obviously need the protection of hunter agencies.

“Dolce, Esprit, and Night Sky. Those are the primary three.”

“Reach out to them as well. Inform them that Zanabi is requesting their support—and that we expect them to be helpful.”

One of the Zanabi hunters spoke up hesitantly at her command.

“Hunter Lee Se-eun…? To be honest, your personal name might carry more weight than Zanabi’s.”

“Then use my name.”

Making the request in the name of Zanabi might result in a lukewarm or bureaucratic reaction. But her own name? The gravity of the situation shifted entirely.

There was almost no hunter in existence who would dare decline a direct request from Lee Se-eun.

“In any case, the man is quite something.”

Yoo Chan-seok’s engagement was coming to a close. He would have no trouble surviving even in a place like Cheorwon.

“Is it because of that black fire?”

“It’s not just that.”

Flashy powers weren’t everything. Plenty of high-profile ability users had died because they were too busy showing off.

“I once knew a man who could literally halt the flow of time.”

“What? How could someone with a power like that ever be killed?”

It wasn’t some grand, cinematic battle. He died in a shockingly mundane way.

“A long-range shooter. He was busy causing a scene and didn’t notice the threat until he was hit.”

He didn’t sense the incoming fire, so he never activated his ability. Without the time stop, the bullet went straight through his head.

He had always been an unlucky soul, but hearing that someone with such a god-like power had perished was a wake-up call. If you rely too heavily on your gifts and get careless, it always ends the same way.

“His combat intuition is elite.”

“It’s talent.”

No, “talent” didn’t feel like the right word. Talent is usually about raw instinct—sensing a foe’s move or naturally flowing from one strike to the next.

But this man? He didn’t look like he was acting on instinct. That was the precision of a veteran with decades of experience, not just raw, natural ability.

In the end, the slime—covered in patches of dark fire—had its vital core pierced by Yoo Chan-seok’s spear, and it finally dissolved.

“You were right, Hunter Lee Se-eun. He didn’t need any help from us.”

If it had been me, perhaps. But if you lot had charged in, you would have just been obstacles. Lee Se-eun thought the words but didn’t voice them.

There was no reason to demoralize the younger ones. Yoo Chan-seok was destined for the major leagues anyway—he wouldn’t be partnering with average hunters for long.

“Finish those tasks and take whatever rest you can get.”

A little further and they would finally clear this Erosion Zone.

“We’re just passing through this time.”

Eventually, she intended to return and permanently clear the anomaly that was currently blocking this route.