Chapter 55

Chapter 55
## Chapter 55: The Refrigerator Gambit

The emerald radiance of the Paradox Flame, which had been consuming the debris of the shattered chamber, slowly flickered into nothingness. Exhaling a heavy, concentrated breath, I stepped through the ruined threshold to meet Lee Se-eun and Han Sang-ah.

“You actually took down a Partner Hunter from Taebaek.”

“It was either him or me. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

There had been a squad of six high-level bruisers, and as Lee Se-eun pointed out, Yoon Sung-hyun was a high-ranking Partner Hunter representing the Taebaek guild.

I couldn’t exactly hold back or play around when specialists like that were coming at me with lethal intent. Furthermore, the cramped quarters of the room hadn’t exactly played to my tactical strengths during the struggle with Yoon Sung-hyun.

“Taebaek is going to lose their minds. They’ll be hunting you now.”

“It’s not like we were ever going to be on their Christmas card list anyway.”

There was zero point in trying to play nice.

“And as for them ‘coming after me’? Well, I suppose the Hanwha Eagles will eventually win a championship too.”

Han Sang-ah gave me a look of pure, unadulterated confusion at my analogy.

“If you’re referring to the Hanwha Eagles baseball club, they’ve actually taken the KBO League title five years in a row. The pundits are all betting on a sixth consecutive trophy this season.”

“….”

I stared at her, completely stunned. Who did what for how long?

Quite a bit of time had slipped by since my return to Earth, but I hadn’t possessed the mental energy to track sports rankings. This piece of news hit me like a physical blow.

It really highlighted how the world was falling apart in ways I hadn’t even considered. Still, while the baseball news was a personal shock, it wasn’t the priority.

“Forget the baseball. Let’s focus on Taebaek.”

The corporate hierarchy of Taebaek was notorious enough that it was common knowledge. They were the singular hunter firm that operated with a traditional CEO. However, I didn’t have any personal intel on the man at the top.

I looked toward Lee Se-eun, and she immediately filled the gaps.

“The man running Taebaek is Sung Si-hoon. He’s a vain, narcissistic pretty boy, but he’s undeniably powerful.”

“How powerful are we talking?”

Lee Se-eun’s answer was blunt and terrifying.

“In terms of sheer output? He has the psychic weight to lift Big Ben, the London Eye, and Buckingham Palace simultaneously and juggle them like tennis balls.”

Good grief, the man is essentially a localized natural disaster. It tracked, though—Taebaek was famous for solving every problem with overwhelming physical dominance. They were like the hot-blooded, battle-crazed leads of an old-school combat comic. A weakling wouldn’t last a day as their leader.

“So, theoretically, he’s stronger than you, Lee Se-eun?”

She considered my question before answering.

“He has a hard limit. Sung Si-hoon’s telekinetic influence is restricted to a twenty-meter zone.”

If you were caught within that twenty-meter bubble, he could crush your windpipe with a thought or snap your spine like a dry twig. But if you stayed outside that perimeter, he couldn’t touch you directly with his mind.

To strike a target beyond his immediate range, he’d have to grab an object within his zone and launch it like a projectile.

“That doesn’t sound like much of a vulnerability.”

I could brainstorm several long-range strategies to engage him, but the second any attack entered his personal space, that monstrous psychokinesis would likely swat it aside.

He was a nightmare of a matchup. It was easy to see why someone with that kind of god-like control would be a narcissist.

“Regardless, the transfer window is about to swing open….”

Lee Se-eun cast a glance toward the London skyline before speaking again.

“The British Hunter Association is going to be absolutely overwhelmed because of your stunt.”

“Is that so?”

“Do you honestly think only a couple of guilds are going to try to recruit you? Britain’s current systems are a total wreck—the London branch is the only place capable of handling international contract talks right now.”

Essentially, their switchboards were probably on the verge of a meltdown.

“I’m not planning on signing with anyone.”

Han Sang-ah and Lee Se-eun both gave short nods, as if my answer was a foregone conclusion. Our current tenure in Britain was drawing to a close anyway. We had already extracted the majority of the vital data from the Dover shield generator.

“I originally planned to stay a bit longer once the contract ended. However…”

We needed to act decisively before the transfer market peaked to maximize our reputation.

“With our current standing, do you think we can handle the Grade 1 Erosion Core in Russia? The one nicknamed ‘The Refrigerator’?”

Lee Se-eun paused before responding.

“Once you hit Grade 1, it isn’t just about the strength of the beasts—the internal mechanics and gimmicks are the real killers. I can’t give you a guarantee. But… I’d put our chances at maybe 40%.”

Even if nothing in this life was certain, 40% was a painfully slim margin. Lee Se-eun looked at Han Sang-ah and me with a grim expression.

“Surviving the gimmicks inside an Erosion Core isn’t a matter of power—it’s a matter of veteran intuition. And the two of you are severely lacking in that department.”

She went silent for a moment, calculating, then added:

“For context, the state bounty for neutralizing the Refrigerator Core is 38 billion won.”

Han Sang-ah and I both froze. How much?

Lee Se-eun pulled out a device and began crunching numbers.

“Obviously, a three-person suicide charge is out of the question. Considering the danger level of the Core… we’re going to need a full support and operations team….”

A few minutes later, she held out a digital list.

“What am I looking at?”

“A list of my subordinates and seniors. I also have leverage over a guild in Japan that owes me a massive favor. They won’t enter the core itself, but they’ll provide the muscle to clear the perimeter and secure the entrance for us.”

After deducting the astronomical costs of hiring such a specialized support crew, Han Sang-ah and I would be looking at a personal take of roughly 1.5 billion won each.

That was assuming we actually survived. Currently, I lacked the liquid capital to pay the people Lee Se-eun was suggesting upfront.

It would have to be a conditional contract. Basically, a “pay-on-completion” debt.

“And if we fail?”

Lee Se-eun didn’t sugarcoat her answer to Han Sang-ah’s blunt question.

“If you hire them and don’t pay, the two of you become high-profile debtors. Given your status as hunters, you’d probably spend the rest of your natural lives just trying to keep up with the interest payments.”

I glanced at Han Sang-ah, who spoke up immediately.

“I’m not worried. Geumyang Group can settle my portion.”

“And what about me?”

Han Sang-ah gave me a flat look.

“Using Geumyang Group funds to bail out a debt isn’t a clean process. You’d end up in a position far more miserable than a standard debtor. But if you’re willing to take that risk, I’ll step in.”

What was she planning? Sending me to a labor camp? I could already see a future where I was tearfully counting coins for a single skewer of street food and a cheap beer.

“But a win means a total jackpot. Taking down a Grade 1 is a world-class achievement.”

Lee Se-eun finished her thought, rubbing her fingers together in the universal sign for money.

“Wealth will literally rain down on you. Even if you tried to stop it, your assets would just keep multiplying.”

Crushing poverty and a ruined life, or a vertical ascent to the top of the world.

“Life is a gamble anyway.”

I stood up, locking eyes with Lee Se-eun.

“We’re doing it.”

There was no room for “trying.” Existence is like a single matchstick—it flares up brilliantly for a second, then turns to ash and vanishes.

“Fine. I’ll start the logistical preparations. First off….”

Lee Se-eun dialed a number on her phone.

“Hey, Nanami? It’s time to settle that debt. What? Magical girls don’t have financial obligations? What kind of insane logic is that? Do you want to die?”

While Lee Se-eun was busy being the terrifying Partner Hunter of Zanabi, Han Sang-ah and I went back to our grueling daily training routine.

—

A week passed before Lee Se-eun presented the final dossier. The preparations for the assault on the Grade 1 Erosion Core, the Refrigerator, were locked in.

“Just so we’re clear: every single person on this list is a conditional hire. None of the reinforcements I’ve brought in will step foot inside the Core. The Refrigerator has a strict entry limit—exactly two people, no more, no less.”

The support team was there solely to clear the path to the door.

“Wait, if we fail to destroy the Core, won’t Han Sang-ah and I be dead anyway?”

Usually, entering an Erosion Core was a binary outcome: you either break it or you die inside.

If I was dead, I wouldn’t have to worry about debt. Lee Se-eun smirked at my logic.

“There’s a safety net.”

She held up a small, translucent sphere for us to see.

“This is the…”

“The Glass Candy of Salvation,” Lee Se-eun explained. “It’s not for consumption. You calibrate it to your mana signature and keep it on your person. I managed to secure these from the Korea Hunter Association by putting my own reputation on the line.”

It was effectively an extra life. The market value of just one was enough to make a person faint. For high-priority assets like Lee Se-eun, the Association kept a small stockpile.

They only held about fifty of these for extreme national emergencies.

“If your vitals drop to a lethal state inside the Core, the bead will trigger a forced extraction. The catch? You can never set foot in that specific Core again.”

Which meant a total mission failure.

“If we clear the objective without breaking the beads, we return them to the Association.”

But if we failed… we’d be spat out of the Core and into a life of permanent debt.

Not to mention, we’d have to pay back the astronomical cost of the used beads.

“Failure sounds like a living nightmare.”

“It is. And the second I started mobilizing this many high-level hunters, the global media went into a frenzy.”

A loss here meant financial ruin and the total incineration of every ounce of fame I had cultivated.

“Let’s move out.”

It was either paradise or perdition. Han Sang-ah and I tapped the communication devices Lee Se-eun provided.

— Signal established. This is Support Team Seagull. Hunter Yoo Chan-seok, do you read?

“Loud and clear. Connection confirmed.”

A professional, level voice replied. This was the specialized team that usually handled Lee Se-eun’s high-stakes contracts.

— Current time is 1357 hours. Hunter Lee Se-eun and two associates are confirmed departing from Dover. Primary objective: Neutralization of Grade 1 Erosion Core ‘Refrigerator’ located in Bratsk.

They continued rattling off the tactical data for our target.

— Be advised, the Bratsk Refrigerator strictly enforces a two-person entry limit.

Exactly two. I had already internalized that from Lee Se-eun’s briefing.

— Final confirmation: Hunters Yoo Chan-seok and Han Sang-ah will be the designated entry team for the Refrigerator?

“Confirmed.”

In truth, if Lee Se-eun or I went in together, the odds of success would be higher. But the narrative impact would be negligible. Taking down a Grade 1 with the world’s 10th ranked hunter? That’s just being carried to victory.

But if Han Sang-ah and I did it alone? That was a statement.

I was already playing a high-stakes game with a debtor’s desperation. I might as well push for the maximum possible reward.

— To be honest, I’m feeling a bit apprehensive about this.

Lee Se-eun’s voice crackled through the earpiece.

“Don’t worry about it,” I whispered, my fingers brushing the glass sphere in my pocket. The Glass Candy of Salvation.

There was no point in going in with a “death before debt” mindset. My mana was already synced to the device. To turn it off, I’d have to survive the mission and go through a formal decommissioning process.

“Alright. Let’s get to work.”