Chapter 91

Chapter 91
Chapter: 91

Chapter Title: 091

—

Normal people wouldn’t be able to stomach this. I suspect a good portion of them have already had their psyches fractured to some extent.

“At the absolute worst, thirty percent.”

Once this operation concludes, the tally of functional hunters might plummet below thirty percent. Regardless of my speed, there is no avoiding the inevitable. I lack the ability to teleport; I am restricted to the pace of my own stride.

I pay no heed to the steep drops. I ignore the throbbing agony migrating through my frame. Mimicking a stallion in a dead heat, I refuse to break my rhythm for even a heartbeat.

With every hunter that falls, the likelihood of conquering Jaun Valley withers further. One death. Then another follows.

I continue to disregard the delusions manifesting in my periphery as I pulverize the anchors maintaining the integrity of the magic circle.

Finally, the moment arrives. I thrust my spear into the concluding anchor point, surging my mana into the strike until it disintegrates into nothingness.

⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙
Link with the hunters has been successfully re-established. Excellent performance, Hunter Yoo Chan-seok.

Yeah, “excellent” is putting it mildly. I exhaled a weary breath and brushed the perspiration from my forehead. My movements had been so frantic that my spirit felt just as drained as my muscles.

“Give me a rundown of the remaining hunters.”

⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙
Confirmed. A report will be issued once the census is finalized.

With that settled, I made my way toward the location where Han Sang-ah and Jeong O-hun were holding their ground.

“So, you’re all still breathing.”

I forced my way through the heavy mist until the figures of Han Sang-ah and Jeong O-hun materialized. Upon catching sight of my face, Han Sang-ah wavered for a split second before delivering a full-strength slash with her blade.

The point of my spear intercepted her steel. With a sharp twist of my wrist, I parried the strike, causing Han Sang-ah to stumble as her momentum failed her.

“That felt authentic. Like a solid connection.”

“Listen, even if you’re checking for a ghost, who leads with a decapitation attempt?”

After testing me with a few more probes, Han Sang-ah gave a short nod and returned her weapon to its scabbard.

“It’s the real Yoo Chan-seok. Jeong O-hun has restrained his own leg. We should probably assist him with that.”

Jeong O-hun was indeed wearing a heavy shackle around his ankle. I let out a dry laugh at the sight.

“What’s the deal? Did you develop a sudden interest in bondage?”

“Chan-seok, stop talking nonsense and get this off me. I want to move out.”

Despite his words, his grip remained white-knuckled on the firearm he held.

“You’re still aiming that at me, you know.”

Hearing that, Jeong O-hun shifted his aim toward me with deliberate intent. He glanced down at the restraint for a second before grunting a question.

“Where’s the key?”

“I broke it.”

A wise choice. Had there been a key, he might have been tricked into using it by some hallucination. I shifted my attention back to Han Sang-ah.

I’m not certain of the alloy, but it’s incredibly resilient. Trying to smash it directly might result in Jeong O-hun losing his foot.

“I’m going to suppress the Paradox Flame briefly. Both of you, stop breathing.”

On my command, the pair held their breath. I snuffed out the Paradox Flame protecting our perimeter, then conjured a small spark in my hand to apply to the metal. As the heat ate away at the shackle’s structural integrity, I flared the flame above us once more to keep the fog at bay, then struck the metal with the butt of my spear.

The restraint exploded like brittle glass, its fragments littering the dirt.

“Fine. That settles it. Nobody else can manage a stunt like that.”

Jeong O-hun finally lowered his weapon, massaged the skin where the metal had bitten in, and climbed to his feet.

⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙
Hunter Yoo Chan-seok, the casualty assessment is in. Forty percent have perished, and twenty percent are exhibiting signs of total psychological collapse.

Darn it. I anticipated this outcome. Still, with my current proficiency, I can incinerate mental scars like these. I’ll need to double back and salvage the twenty percent currently lost to their own minds.

“Have you located the Erosion Core?”

The question came from Han Sang-ah.

“It’s in the vicinity of the Zhangweitan Ski Resort.”

That was the extent of the information I could glean by tracing the magic circle’s flow. However, with the remaining hunters sweeping the zone, locating it shouldn’t be a struggle.

The gateway to an Erosion Core isn’t exactly subtle.

“I intend to be the one to finish it.”

Jeong O-hun’s reaction to Han Sang-ah’s declaration was instantaneous as we began to trek.

“Negative, that kill is mine.”

Jeong O-hun and Han Sang-ah exchanged a hard stare. Observing their posturing, I intervened bluntly.

“Stop the barking. It’s not like you two have already infiltrated the Erosion Core and left it half-dead, right?”

Nothing is guaranteed regarding how this concludes, yet here they were arguing over the spoils. They both turned their gaze toward me.

“Whoever gets the opening to end it should just go for the throat. This isn’t some carnival game where you’re shooting for prizes.”

What, are you going to stand over a dying enemy and wait for someone to give you the green light? That’s the fastest way for a villain to get killed in their own story.

I don’t operate that way. It doesn’t matter who delivers the killing blow—what matters is making sure it stops breathing.

“As long as it’s drawing breath, there’s a risk. Once it’s a cadaver, the problem is solved.”

With that, I cut their useless bickering short and followed the trail provided by the operators back toward Harbin.

“Are you holding up?”

The sight of Adakawa Nanami’s worn face made me grimace. She had clearly been put through the wringer by the hallucinations.

It hadn’t been an eternity, but the shadows under her eyes were deep. If Adakawa Nanami was in this state, there was no point in even looking at the others.

“You should find a place to collapse.”

Wavering slightly, Adakawa Nanami managed a response.

“I’m alright. I’ve still got plenty of fight in me!”

She looked as limp as a salted cabbage, but at least she could still talk back. Fortunately, this was just the exhaustion of dealing with shadows and tricks—not true madness.

I made my way to the area where the compromised hunters were being kept.

“…Damn.”

The numbers were higher than I’d hoped. Purging the trauma from this many minds was going to be a time-consuming process. But it wasn’t a total loss.

Incinerating the psychological damage of this many individuals with the Paradox Flame would trigger a massive discharge of mana.

I could channel that excess energy to speed up the reinforcement of my body’s meridians.

“The Undying Legion is starting to get on my nerves.”

Beijing isn’t a long distance from Korea. Knowing those undead freaks are multiplying there makes it impossible to feel anything but a sense of urgency.

“I need to refine my equipment as well.”

The spear I’m currently wielding is quite effective. Most weapons are stuck at one size, but mine allows for fluid adjustments.

I can transition from a 30cm blade to a 6.5m sarissa. Being able to adapt to the exact requirements of the moment is a massive advantage.

“For the moment, I’ve secured the other spear.”

I had salvaged the weapon from that Seonghong fellow in the Undying Legion and passed it along to Choi Seung-gi over at Daebak Scrap Dealers. While I continued to burn away the trauma of the gathered hunters using the Paradox Flame, I placed a call to Choi Seung-gi.

Ah! What can I help you with?
“I’m calling about the spear I dropped off. What’s the verdict on the analysis?”

Choi Seung-gi let out a small noise of realization.

It’s a top-tier piece of equipment. The material is both robust and remarkably supple, and it handles mana beautifully. If we listed this for auction, hunters would be fighting each other for a chance to buy it.
I wasn’t surprised. I wanted it the second I laid eyes on it. It’s not a weapon with flashy gimmicks. Some high-level gear is simply superior in its construction—nothing more.

It masters the fundamental requirements of a weapon so well that it enters the realm of a masterpiece. Seonghong’s spear fits that description perfectly.

Incredibly tough, surprisingly flexible, balanced to a hair, and with an edge sharp enough to make your blood run cold.

“You’ve already got the specs on my current spear… do you think you can merge the two?”

Well… we’d require a high-grade catalyst for a fusion like that. Your current spear is already famous for its durability, isn’t it?
We need a catalyst worthy of breaking down and binding the components of both weapons.

Sure, we could settle for a cheap one. But you’re likely going to lose the traits you care about.
What I’m aiming for is to retain the variable-length feature of my current weapon while soaking up as much of Seonghong’s high-end quality as possible.

As Choi Seung-gi pointed out, an inferior catalyst would probably wash out all that premium quality.

“Understood. If we stumble across a suitable catalyst, we’ll move forward with it.”

I’ll have to make do with my current spear to clear Jaun Valley regardless. Combining them can stay on the back burner for now.

“I might need to reach out to Jeong O-hun.”

Given his reputation as “Jeong O-mul,” and considering how much he’s helped with Jaun Valley, he likely has the connections to find something on the underground markets.

“Hunter Yoo Chan-seok…”

As I purged their psychological wounds, the hunters who had lost their grip began to regain their senses one by one. But recovering from trauma doesn’t mean they are combat-ready instantly.

This isn’t a video game. Very few people have the mental grit to dive back into the fray immediately after a mental break.

“If you’ve lost your nerve, pay the contract penalty and move on.”

Upon hearing my words, several of those who had come to in the isolation tents started looking at each other with visible discomfort.

“There’s no shame in it.”

It would be foolish to force someone who knows they’re at their limit to stay. They’d just be a liability in a fight anyway.

“But the cancellation fee…”

“You’re paying it. No debate.”

We signed a document. They gave their word. If they can’t see it through, they settle the bill.

“I’m not a villain. I’ll take exactly what we agreed upon for the payout.”

Since this is a subcontract, the penalty usually hovers around twenty percent. However, in hunter contracts, that figure can climb to double the original fee.

The reason is simple. This isn’t like walking out on a house-painting job. Failure here leads to corpses, leveled buildings, and economic devastation.

“I can’t take any more.”

“God, that whole ordeal gave me the shakes…”

A few hunters had clearly reached their breaking point. I kept my voice calm.

“We’ve found the Erosion Core. This should all be over in a matter of days.”

There’s no telling how the end will look. Quitting now might be something you regret down the line.

Of course, I’ll abide by their decisions. Life is valuable. If they want to pay the price to ensure they stay alive, I have no reason to stop them.

“Once your penalty is processed, those who wish to leave are free to go. However…”

I let the warmth drop from my voice, replacing it with a cold, sharp edge.

“If you try to run without paying, you’re a dead man.”

Settle up and leave. If you’re abandoning the post to save your skin, pay the toll.

If you think you can just disappear in the middle of a contract, you’re mistaken. This isn’t some casual study group.

If you skip out on the bill, I will make your life in Korea a living hell by whatever means I have.

“That’s all. And don’t feel obligated to stay here. We’ll launch the assault on the Jaun Valley Erosion Core once everyone has had enough time to recover.”

With that final word, I gave a brief nod and exited the tent.