IH Ch 1

by berry

Chapter 1

Internship Hunter

Another day begins.

I woke up at the designated time, did a light stretch, then moved to sit in front of the single-person desk placed beside the entrance. If I sat quietly and waited, breakfast would be delivered through the slot installed at the bottom of the door.

I wondered which supplement it would be today. The pills were always round, only differing in color, and didn’t have much taste. Swallowing about five of them with water marked the end of breakfast, and everything that needed to be done afterward was already organized in my mind.

Today, I would clean the room and water the plants. It wouldn’t take long. A room with only a bed and a desk wouldn’t take more than thirty minutes to tidy, and as for the plants—

“……”

I looked at the small potted plant tucked in a corner by the wall, above the bed. What grew there was so tiny and fragile that calling it a sprout would be generous—just a small, weak green stem. I would carefully clean the pot so that the delicate thing could grow well. I wanted to refill the soil, too, but that would require going outside, which wasn’t possible.

I looked up at the recessed ceiling light, then shifted my gaze. The room was so narrow that I could take in everything at a glance without moving my eyes. It was hardly fair to call it a room at all—more like a solitary cell. I had tried to get used to it, but never quite succeeded.

Then I realized—breakfast was late today. That hardly ever happened. I was supposed to take the exact amount of supplements at a fixed time.

Strange. I hadn’t done anything wrong lately.

“……”

I quietly stood up. Walking over to the door, I crouched and lowered my head. Tilting my neck to the side, I stared at the delivery slot under the door, checking and rechecking it.

Then, I felt a faint vibration beneath the soft soles of my feet—gentle but repeated tremors. Tilting my head even more, I tried to sense them better. Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, I placed both hands on the cold floor and lowered my head slowly.

With that motion, the iron mask on my head clanked and fell forward. Pulled by gravity, the metal of the mask clanged against the floor, allowing me to lie flat. From that position, I focused on the closed slot.

Though my eyes were on the delivery opening, every nerve in my body was tuned to the tremors of the ground and the vibrations in the air—the sense of something heavy and fast approaching. An intruder was disturbing the quiet space. My heart thudded—thump, thump—in heavy beats as I slowly closed and then opened my eyes. The sound of heavy footsteps drew closer and then stopped in front of the door. And then, the solid iron door was ripped off.

As the torn door was thrown aside in a crumpled heap, a deep, pleasant voice pierced through my ears.

“What is this?”

Still lying flat, I didn’t move a single finger. Immediately, a strong hand seized the back of my neck.

“……!”

Any startled resistance I attempted was effortlessly ignored, and I was yanked upright in an instant. Through the small eye holes of the iron mask, I saw a pair of intense red eyes.

They had raided what remained of the cult’s headquarters, but half of the execution targets had already fled.

The ones who remained were taken care of on the spot without exception, and those not marked for immediate elimination were captured. In the blink of an eye, the team infiltrated deep into the base, completed the entire operation in under ten minutes, and was ready to withdraw—but one person acted on impulse.

He began roaming the building, eventually discovering a hidden passage, and from there, he brought back something strange.

A figure wearing garb one might expect on a lab specimen, with a crude iron mask covering their face. Long, slender hair spilled out from beneath the mask.

With one massive hand gripping the back of the figure’s neck, they dangled like a puppet with its strings cut—an unidentified person who was taken straight to the Korean Hunter Association.

[Cult Forces Successfully Disbanded Until the Very End]

Thirty years ago, a man named Lee Myeonghwan founded a cult. Centered around Hunters with abilities such as brainwashing, healing, and hallucination, the group absorbed believers and their families, expanding their influence.

Twenty years later, they moved to an island and declared independence. They even managed to recruit more Hunters and began responding to gate appearances faster than the official Association, at one point gaining substantial public support.

However, after failing in an attempt to recruit the Chairman of the Korea Hunter Association and place him under their control, the group deliberately delayed gate closures and attempted illegal entries, causing significant civilian casualties.

Judging Lee Myeonghwan as a threat due to his ongoing sabotage, the Association declared all-out war. After three grueling years, the conflict has finally ended as of today.

Following a brief statement by the Association’s spokesperson, Kim Wi, the 8th Chairman of the Korea Hunter Association, appeared.

Well-groomed, polished, and with a gentle impression, he became a hot topic as the youngest Chairman in history. Of course, his appointment wasn’t based solely on looks and youth. Awakened as an A-rank at fourteen, he became an S-rank through a decade of steady effort.

[Citizens, as of March 12, our Association has completed the operation to eliminate Lee Myeonghwan and his remaining forces. By fully eradicating those who have long endangered your lives, we pledge to focus even more on the security of South Korea moving forward.]

Then followed a short briefing on how the final operation had unfolded.

Nearly a hundred years had passed since the appearance of gates, known as the Great Catastrophe. With the emergence of gates, awakened individuals became Hunters, shaping the course of world affairs.

Each country formed its own Association, and Hunters generally belonged to these, though a few formed independent guilds. In South Korea, the most prominent were Jangsin, Imun, and Jae-i. Among them, Jae-i was currently the most popular.

While the Chairman was giving the interview, Hunters who had participated in the operation to eliminate Lee Myeonghwan’s remnants gathered in the Chairman’s office.

On TV, the Chairman was boldly proclaiming that the mission was perfectly executed—but the truth was different. Even during the most final, conclusive stages of the operation, they had missed a few targets.

Watching the Chairman speak with his usual friendly demeanor, Jangsin Guild Master Yoo Jisin muttered,

“Our Chairman lies so smoothly without even moistening his lips.”

In response, Imun Guild Master Park Jaehwan cupped his hand to his mouth and wiggled his fingers.

“He’s good at putting on a show. Not just anyone can represent Korea as Chairman.”

“But how can he say it was a clean sweep when we missed some? Reporters these days have sharp sources.”

“He’ll figure it out.”

There was a reason for the indifference in his voice.

Even if some had escaped, they were still within reach. What could a few remnants accomplish anyway?

Moreover, although it hadn’t been announced yet, Lee Myeonghwan was already dead. They had the body. If any of the remnants acted out, they could just reveal the corpse.

Was Lee Myeonghwan the only one who had ever threatened the system?

When the world changed drastically, people began living in completely new ways, and with that came strange phenomena. They had long since learned how to handle such things. Still, Lee Myeonghwan had been a formidable foe.

“These past three years have been exhausting.”

“It’s been ten years since that side started moving, even if we only fought directly for three.”

“Right. It’s not fair to lump it all under ‘three years’ just because that’s when it got serious.”

Stretching his arms wide, Park Jaehwan glanced behind him. There, Association-affiliated Hunters stood stiffly, tension evident. Park narrowed his eyes.

“Isn’t it tiring to keep standing? Come sit here.”

“N-no, sir! I’m comfortable standing…”

“You never know when the Chairman might come back. Honestly, if we wanted, we could leave this place whenever. Don’t waste your energy—come sit.”

“……”

He could’ve insisted he was fine, but instead, the Hunter rolled his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, he slowly made his way to the edge of the sofa and sat down.

Chuckling softly, Park Jaehwan turned to Yoo Jisin, who had completely settled into the couch.

“So why isn’t that kid coming up yet?”

“…Jae-i?”

Yoo Jisin mumbled sleepily, to which Park responded with a hum.

“Seems like he really likes the toy he picked up this time. Looked suspicious as hell to me.”

Yoo Jisin looked at Park Jaehwan.

“He didn’t have any abilities, though.”

Yoo Jisin, who had detection abilities, had already checked the pale little thing Hwang Jae-i dragged out from the hidden passage. The suspicious person was unawakened—a civilian.

And yet, he had been wearing a ridiculous iron mask. That oversized, heavy mask didn’t match his thin frame or slender limbs. Dangling from Jae-i’s grip by the back of the neck, the whole image had looked quite comical.

“Why go to such lengths to hide an unawakened? Just in case, I wish he’d be more careful… That brat never listens.”

At Park’s grumbling, laced with old resentment, Yoo Jisin chuckled.

Park Jaehwan had been Guild Association Chairman for over fifteen years. Hwang Jae-i, from the Jae-i Guild, had only been in the role for three years.

When Jae-i had taken the position at a young age, Park had felt compelled to show a rare gesture of goodwill—sending gifts and attending the inauguration. But the response he got was:

‘The fuck is this?’

The ceremony had been grand, with guild masters and association heads from all over in attendance, and media from every outlet crowding in. Yet Jae-i’s raw profanity had landed in every ear without the slightest filter.

While everyone else was stunned, members of the Jae-i Guild looked indifferent—as if they had already given up.

The flustered Chief of Staff had rushed to explain that it wasn’t like that, though he didn’t clarify what it was like either.

But Park Jaehwan wasn’t exactly the calm type.

‘Who the fuck raised this insolent little shit?’

If things had escalated, it would’ve been a disaster, but fortunately, the other guilds had reined in their leaders. Even now, three years later, that raw footage occasionally aired for entertainment and brought laughter to many—including Yoo Jisin.

Whenever Yoo Jisin felt stressed, he would pull up that video mashup of Hwang Jae-i’s “the fuck” and Park Jaehwan’s “insolent little shit” playing on loop like a remix. Groaning, he now sat up.

Cross-legged on the couch, he tossed back his long, tied hair and massaged the back of his neck, murmuring,

“That toy… needs a bit of caution, too.”

Yoo Jisin let out a short sigh.