Chapter 6

Chapter 6
Chapter: 006

Chapter Title: Protecting the Sprout

—

The hunter known as Yoo Chan-seok possessed the capability to overcome Zanabi’s 1st Team Leader Kang Hoon, provided he attained a comparable volume of mana.

It was a definitive claim—honestly, one that prompted a person to question if it wasn’t a stretch of the imagination. It was no shock that the subordinate in the passenger seat reflexively shifted his gaze toward Lee Se-eun.

—Is he truly that capable?

“He is. That’s precisely why I suggested he go independent and tossed him a contract on my way out.”

Kang Hoon, listening to the explanation, let out a robust laugh.

—She genuinely believes he has that level of talent. It makes me regret failing to recruit him even more.

“It’s a simple outcome. He either grows strong enough to become a true associate, or this marks the limit of his journey.”

Despite entering the field as a fresh junior hunter, Yoo Chan-seok didn’t have much traditional growth left to undergo.

“Interestingly, Yoon Sung-hyun seemed quite intent on bringing him into his own squad as a rookie.”

—Blast. Doesn’t that mean we should stay alert?

Regardless of how bright his future as a powerhouse might be, at this moment, he was merely a developing sprout.

In a scenario where things didn’t go Yoon Sung-hyun’s way, that man was exactly the type to trample a sprout without a second thought.

“The philosophy at Taebaek is survival of the fittest, after all.”

—Though they don’t exactly put that on the recruitment posters.

If Yoo Chan-seok refused to join their ranks, they would ensure he never found his wings.

“I gave it some thought, and since he mentioned needing a month for personal development, I handed him the keys to the training facility the Association assigned to me. It seemed like the ideal move.”

No matter the scale of Taebaek’s influence, they couldn’t attempt any underhanded tactics within the Association’s walls. Certainly, a titan like Taebaek could lean on the Association if pushed, but it remained a gamble they weren’t ready to take.

—And what happens when the month is up?

“There’s a standing order from Incheon City Hall. I’ve dispatched him to Gyodongdo.”

This was an official commission from the Korean government. It wasn’t exactly favorable ground for Taebaek to interfere.

When dealing with private firms or individual clients, there was rarely much oversight if complications arose, but government-backed operations triggered intense scrutiny if anything went sideways.

“Even someone like Yoon Sung-hyun won’t dare touch him until his return from Gyodongdo.”

He might preach the law of the jungle, but fundamentally, that worldview was born from a terror of becoming the one being hunted.

Taebaek was the sort of entity that would be torn apart the moment it showed a hint of vulnerability.

—True, that makes sense.

If she continued to feed him a few more assignments like this upon his return from Gyodongdo, the sprout would have a chance to flourish before being crushed.

“If we foster a connection like this now, when Yoo Chan-seok eventually reaches the top, we’ll be first in line for high-level joint operations, won’t we?”

—I have confidence in your instincts. Playing the long game like this is your specialty at Zanabi anyway.

Lee Se-eun chuckled, winding a strand of hair around her finger as she spoke.

“It’s a struggle to be both brilliant and benevolent, but I’m managing.”

—Don’t give me that. You’re heading back to Cheorwon? Safe travels.

After ending the call with Kang Hoon, Lee Se-eun crossed her legs, gave a faint whistle, and watched the scenery pass by the window.

“One month.”

A brief window for any significant transformation.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

One month was more than enough time. My first order of business was checking an application on my phone to browse for various medicinal flora.

The items often referred to as spiritual medicines.

“I don’t need anything legendary.”

There was no requirement for thousand-year ginseng hidden on a frozen peak or ancient tubers buried deep in the earth like artifacts.

To be fair, my bank account couldn’t handle those anyway—but more importantly, they weren’t necessary for my plan.

“This will be just right.”

Tapping through the app, I located a few products that hunters typically kept in their medical kits.

They were ampoules stored in tiny glass containers. Their actual spiritual herb concentration was roughly equivalent to the flavoring in herbal candy.

The cost? Five million won.

“The budget-tier stuff still costs as much as a small apartment deposit.”

Upon receiving my hunter credentials, the Association provided a starting grant of seven-point-five million won.

Combined with the five million from the Incheon City Hall assignment provided by Lee Se-eun, I had twelve-point-five million in total.

“At least I won’t have to worry about the cost of living for these four weeks.”

The facility Lee Se-eun provided included three meals a day from the Association. My previous apartment’s rent and utilities were static expenses I couldn’t avoid.

With this budget, I could purchase a reliable, solid spear, spend the remainder on those ampoules, and save whatever was left.

[Your order is set to be delivered today at 4:30 PM.]

The speed was far superior to standard shipping. There must be a logistics pact to prioritize hunter requisitions.

“This is the perk of the modern era. This is progress.”

I finalized the purchase, dropped my phone onto the mattress with a dull thud, and let out a long stretch.

In my previous life, obtaining anything required physical travel every single time.

Sourcing a single spear would have taken a minimum of several hours. Finding something medicinal? That would involve days of searching and waiting.

“I’m glad to be back, even on a world that’s seen better days.”

I shifted my weight, letting out a pained groan.

“Time to heal until the delivery arrives.”

Lee Se-eun had essentially flattened me like a block of soft tofu. If she hadn’t held back in the slightest…

I dragged my feet to the bed and collapsed face-down.

I was only able to move at all because I was pulling in surrounding mana to fuel my recovery. Without that, I wouldn’t have even had the strength to operate a wheelchair.

As I mended and waited, my package arrived.

“This spear should suffice.”

It wasn’t flashy, but it was resilient. It wouldn’t shatter under my current, relatively weak physical power.

“And now for these.”

I unboxed the small package to find a single ampoule. After checking the vial, I removed the seal and took a breath. A subtle but distinct aroma of freshness drifted out.

Wrapped within that scent was a trace of mana.

“Just the right dosage.”

The majority of mana practitioners draw in ambient energy through their skin, circulate it through specific pressure points and channels to refine it, and then deposit it in a core like the heart or dantian.

If mana was likened to water, the acupoints were the plumbing and the meridians were the filtration system. The dantian or heart served as the reservoir for the clean water.

The standard approach was akin to pouring a glass from a filtered tap.

“But in my case…?”

I simply utilize the plumbing. I draw the surrounding mana directly into my system, use it immediately without filtering or storing it, and then vent it back out.

Because there is no storage, I lack explosive bursts of power, but my energy never depletes, regardless of the duration of the conflict.

This was a fundamental pillar of my stamina, complementing the Paradox Flame. Even after more than four hours of intensive combat with Lee Se-eun, I never ran out of steam.

“In truth, if I had plenty of time, I wouldn’t need this low-grade stuff.”

Similar to how a steady stream eventually carves out a wider riverbed, the mana I am constantly cycling through my body gradually expands and reinforces my internal pathways 24/7.

Simply existing and breathing makes me incrementally more powerful.

“But I’m on a schedule.”

I tilted my head back and drained the ampoule.

‘I reached the peak this way once before and saved an entire world.’

The conclusion will be identical this time around. I will ensure it. I let my eyes drift shut.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

A full month later, I walked out of the training suite Lee Se-eun had provided, clutching my paperwork, and made my way to the mobilization point on Ganghwa Island.

My physical state was at its zenith. I had pushed every possible limit for a thirty-day window.

“Greetings.”

“Are you a registered hunter?”

After checking my credentials on my phone and verifying my physical ID, a man who appeared to be a local official gave a nod.

“Hunter Yoo Chan-seok, your identity is confirmed.”

Following a brief supplemental contract signing, I received my initial payment.

“Deployment starts at nine-thirty AM. Yoo Chan-seok… you are assigned to Group 8.”

The surveillance zones were Eupnae-ri and Gyodong-myeon.

“The identified Alpha Erosion Core is located at the chapel on the north side of Insa-ri. Please steer clear of that area. Be advised that the state is not liable for any casualties resulting from entering that specific zone.”

It made sense—if you wander into forbidden territory, the risk of a fatality increases exponentially. A location marked by an Alpha Erosion Core was synonymous with extreme peril, so warnings were expected.

“Understood.”

I navigated toward my designated spot in the briefing hall.

“This has the distinct vibe of being called back for military reserve duty.”

The comparison did nothing for my mood.

“New faces here. Let’s have a good run.”

A few others had already arrived. Their looks became complicated when they saw me. One individual scanned me from head to toe and pulled a skeptical face.

“Are you actually a hunter?”

“Do you think I’d be standing here if I wasn’t?”

The man scratched his chin at my answer.

“I don’t know. I can sense mana, but… why is yours so pathetic? Even if we’re short-staffed, being stuck with this on the team? Talk about bad luck to start the day.”

This? I’m a person with a face and a name—did this guy skip basic social etiquette?

Very well. It was time to offer a very direct piece of feedback…

“If being on my team makes you that nauseous, go complain to Incheon City Hall. You tiny-minded loudmouth.”

“What?! Why you—”

I moved forward and shoved my palm down firmly onto the crown of his head. The man, who was halfway through standing up, was slammed back into his chair instantly.

“Gah!”

He attempted to lurch upward again. I timed the movement perfectly—releasing his head and grabbing his shirt collar, jerking him upward.

His own upward force combined with my pull sent him airborne for a split second.

I followed through with a toss. There was a loud thud as he crashed onto the floor tiles.

“If you’re tired, go take a nap at home. Don’t start trouble with strangers.”

A small stir broke out. There weren’t many people in the room yet, so the audience was limited.

“You there.”

One person, however, spoke up. It was a woman’s voice; she was standing nearby with a blade fastened to her hip.

“Ah, the iaido practitioner.”

I recognized her. She was my final challenger during the certification bouts. She was the one who used magnetic fields to accelerate her draws.

“Han Sang-ah.”

“Yoo Chan-seok.”

I brushed my palms together and held a hand out toward the man on the floor. Han Sang-ah watched the gesture, then accepted the handshake.

“Sang-ah, you actually know this guy?”

They were colleagues? The man on the ground stood up, sounding indignant.

“Yes, Senior. But this man isn’t someone you can just call a ‘guy.'”

Why was her arm twisting back like that? Based on the “senior” comment, they likely trained at the same facility.

“What? Then who exactly is he?”

“He’s the one who thrashed me like a stray dog during the license exam.”

She wasn’t lying… but did she have to be so vivid about the “stray dog” part? Most people would try to save face after getting beaten.

“These days, you’d get in a lot of trouble for treating a dog like that.”

“Ah, I suppose that’s true.”

Han Sang-ah whispered, then looked back at her senior.

“He beat me like a dog.”

She wasn’t looking for an apology. Thinking back to our fight, when I told her to signal if it became too much, she followed the instruction literally. She was surprisingly straightforward—it was almost funny.

“He beat you like a dog?”

“Indeed. And I was passing blood for an entire week afterward.”

Looking at her serious expression, that “passing blood” comment wasn’t a metaphor; it was a medical reality.

“I apologize. I didn’t realize it would cause a week of internal bleeding.”

“It wasn’t red like pepper flakes—it was pure blood. And while spicy food might sting, it doesn’t turn your business that color.”

I went quiet at that. Was I the eccentric one here, or was she? I had no idea how to navigate this conversation.

“I don’t believe it. His mana is nearly invisible. It had to be a stroke of luck.”

That’s because I don’t store energy in a stagnant pool inside my body.

“Even if I were facing five seniors at once, I wouldn’t lose—no matter how unlucky I got.”