One day, two days, then four days. By the third day since the supergiant Gates had appeared in the skies, unrest among the nations where the Gates had spawned—or neighboring countries—became visibly more severe. It was because no meaningful countermeasures had been put forth. Frustrated citizens took to the streets, staging protests demanding solutions. News outlets alternated between showing the ever-growing crowds of demonstrators and the Gates looming overhead, emphasizing the gravity of the situation day after day.
-As approximately 75 hours have passed since the phenomenon known as supergiant Gates first appeared in the sky, the government has yet to— -There, you can see citizens marching while holding signs that read "Government, answer us!" -Amid growing concerns that tensions could erupt at any moment, as the number of protesters swells and demonstrations intensify daily...
This was a scene utterly unseen in South Korea, the first country where a supergiant Gate had appeared. Experts quickly analyzed why Korea alone had been different. The conclusions were straightforward. One factor was the decisive action of the Hunter's Association, which had immediately rallied every Hunter in the nation to a single location the moment the Gate appeared. The other was the psychological sense of security the Korean people felt knowing that the country's greatest Hunter—one whose power surpassed even that of a national government—was on their side. An expert invited onto a special program spoke before the cameras like so:
"Hunter Sung Jin-Woo handled two S-rank Dungeon Breaks virtually single-handedly. The ants and the giants—the two most attention-grabbing incidents of the past year—were both resolved through his hands."
The giant-type monsters that had appeared in Japan went without saying, and the global interest in the Jeju Island ant raid had been scorching hot. The broadcasting company that had secured exclusive rights to the raid coverage reportedly made more revenue in one sweep than it had in the previous three years combined—so what more was there to say? The host nodded along as the expert tapped his own temple with his index finger and continued.
"So it was only natural that a sense of trust took root in the minds of the Korean people. No matter what threat might arise, Hunter Sung Jin-Woo could handle it."
That was the reason why the citizens of a capital city of ten million could remain comparatively calm even as a supergiant Gate appeared directly overhead. The expert concluded by straining the veins in his neck to emphasize that Hunter Sung Jin-Woo's existence was an invaluable blessing to the Republic of Korea. However. Not every country could be that lucky. The number of outstanding Hunters was minuscule, and they were not evenly distributed. The nations within the influence of the supergiant Gates could only face chaos proportional to the inverse of their own Hunter forces. The situation was dire enough that demands poured in from citizens willing to pay more in taxes if it meant securing even one more top-tier Hunter. Governments around the world were stunned to see even the wealthiest citizens—who normally recoiled at the mere mention of taxes—voluntarily offering funds, terrified of losing the homeland they had built. As this sense of crisis escalated moment by moment, the world's most prominent figures, representing their respective nations at the request of Korea's Hunter's Association, gathered in Seoul, the capital of South Korea. They had come for a single purpose: to obtain information about the eight supergiant Gates that had simultaneously appeared across the world's skies. The anticipation was especially great for information on Hunter Sung Jin-Woo, who had produced an utterly unexpected result from the very first supergiant Gate.
"Whew—"
A small sigh. David Brennan, the Director of the Hunter Management Bureau who had been hounded by the President until he practically fled to Korea, wiped the cold sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and surveyed the faces of those seated around him.
'...Quite the turnout.'
Presidents, ministers, Guild Masters, the chairman of the Hunter's Association—the Director recognized nearly every face in this auditorium. All of them were prominent, high-profile figures whose names alone commanded recognition. Watching the flickers of anxiety on their faces, the Director wiped a bead of sweat from his own chin.
'Every last one of them has a fire at their feet.'
He knew that although they all appeared to be sitting calmly, inside they were all pacing frantically. He was no different. If only Hunter Sung Jin-Woo would step before them and say, "These Gates will also end without incident"—and if he could relay that message word for word to his superiors, the President who had been pressing him would have no further complaints. It would be the perfect chance to salvage his bruised reputation. But. What if he received the exact opposite news instead... The Director felt his stomach drop, swallowed dryly in nervousness, and checked the time. His wristwatch showed exactly 2:55. Five minutes remained until the announced presentation time. Tick, tick. Listening to the unusually loud second hand of his watch, the Director raised his stiffened head.
* * *
At the same time. Jin-Woo, having finished his inspection of the Shadow Army, turned to Bellion.
"What happens to an army when its Monarch disappears?" "The corps commanders of each corps will lead the soldiers in the Monarch's stead."
He learned that even the giant armies that had been stripped of their king by the Rulers had been led by corps commanders standing in for their Monarch. Jin-Woo nodded. The number of Gates that had appeared was eight. If the corps commanders could manage the armies, that explained why Gates had spawned for armies that had lost their master. Then a question suddenly came to mind.
"So if I die, the Supreme Commander—that's you—takes over the Shadow Army?"
Bellion shook his head.
[Our lives are bound to yours, Master. When you close your eyes, we return to nothingness as well.]
As long as the master's head remained attached, the soldiers' lives continued. The unwavering loyalty of soldiers who disregarded their own lives to serve only their master was undoubtedly one of the Shadow Army's greatest strengths. But conversely, it meant that the moment something happened to the master, the Shadow Army was finished.
'...'
Strength and weakness were two sides of the same coin. Sometimes a strength could become a weakness, and a weakness could become a strength. The enemy would seize upon that. In that case, couldn't he turn it to his advantage?
'...'
Jin-Woo's eyes glinted briefly as he fell into thought. Just then, another voice spoke up beside him.
"Master."
It was Igrit.
"We cannot win in a direct confrontation."
A deep, powerful baritone that resonated low. It had been quite some time since Jin-Woo had been able to converse with Igrit, yet he still had not gotten used to that voice. A voice like that coming from armor that had a light, agile appearance... Before being resurrected by the Shadow Monarch, Igrit had been the greatest knight in the human world, commanding hundreds of knights—so the energy behind his voice wasn't incomprehensible. But still.
'This dissonance... what am I supposed to do about it...'
Whether or not Igrit was aware of Jin-Woo's struggle, he calmly voiced his concerns to Bellion.
"Unlike the previous ruler, who grew disillusioned with the fight against the Rulers and stopped restructuring the army, the Monarchs have continuously assembled and expanded their forces." "How large do you think the disparity in troop numbers will be?"
Now it was Bellion's turn.
"I cannot say precisely, but it will be at least a hundredfold."
Only Beru, who had no way of knowing the size of the other armies, listened quietly as his master and the corps commanders spoke. Jin-Woo's expression hardened. This meant the enemy had, at minimum, more than ten million soldiers.
"A hundredfold..."
Jin-Woo mumbled the number to himself before answering in a low voice.
"I have no intention of fighting head-on."
He had absolutely no plans to discard the advantage that allowed one to become all, and all to become one, in favor of a frontal clash. The shape of the coming battle was forming in Jin-Woo's mind like a picture. And after a brief silence—Brrr—Brrr—Jin-Woo pulled the vibrating phone from his pocket. The call connected, and before he could even get a word out, a familiar voice came through the receiver.
-Hunter-nim, it's Woo Jin-Cheol. "Yes. Mr. Chairman." -Just as you requested, we've gathered representatives from every nation in the main auditorium. Where are you right now?
Before answering, Jin-Woo quietly turned around. Traces of brutal combat. A vast expanse of earth—cracked, gouged, and sheared apart—stretched to the horizon. The trees that had once blanketed the mountain region had long since vanished without a trace. This was the masterpiece produced by the three divisions of the Shadow Army through their mock battle. The mana-reinforced ground had been completely overturned by devastating impacts. The Hunter's Association of Japan, which had been watching the changes within the restricted zone via satellite after being notified in advance by Jin-Woo, had been unable to hide their astonishment at the enormous collision of mana. What they had witnessed was the true power of the Shadow Army. Jin-Woo had seen that power too. Through it, he had been able to accurately gauge the Shadow Army's full combat capability. The result had been deeply satisfying. Jin-Woo's gaze shifted from behind him to the front. An army of more than a hundred thousand knelt before him, awaiting his command without the slightest movement. When Jin-Woo remained silent for a long while, Chairman Woo Jin-Cheol called out cautiously.
-...Hunter-nim?
Jin-Woo's lips curved upward as he answered naturally.
"Yes. I just arrived."
* * *
"You just arrived? When..."
Woo Jin-Cheol, who had instructed his staff to report immediately when Jin-Woo showed up, asked in a puzzled voice as he turned around. In that moment, he spotted Jin-Woo standing behind him.
"Kuh."
He involuntarily let out a small gasp, blinked a few times, then broke into a wry smile as he tucked his phone away.
"...I suppose asking the Hunter-nim for his location is now a meaningless question."
Jin-Woo also smiled and answered with a casual shrug. The two men were standing in the waiting room outside the main auditorium. Beyond the door, representatives from every nation sat packed tightly together, waiting desperately for Jin-Woo to appear. Woo Jin-Cheol checked the time. The clock on his phone's display showed two minutes remaining until the presentation. There was still a little time left. Feeling a vague sense of relief, he looked up.
"Hunter-nim. Do you intend to tell those people the truth?" "Yes." "Once people learn the truth, it'll cause enormous confusion. Some nations may not be able to handle it." "I know."
It was a given. Because they had known that things would unfold this way, the Rulers had concealed their intentions until the very end. But. Even if this matter meant the end of everything, shouldn't people at least know what was about to happen to them?
'Closing your eyes without even knowing what situation you're in—that would be an unbearable way to go.'
So Jin-Woo had decided to tell people the truth. He wasn't the only one who would need to prepare themselves mentally. Seeing Jin-Woo's grim expression, Chairman Woo Jin-Cheol nodded as well.
"Understood. If that is what the Hunter-nim has decided..."
Jin-Woo stepped past Woo Jin-Cheol and walked toward the door leading into the auditorium. But then Woo Jin-Cheol, who had noticed something, urgently called out to stop him.
"Hunter-nim!" "...?"
When Jin-Woo turned around with a puzzled look, Woo Jin-Cheol wore a sheepish expression as he spoke.
"There are quite a few reporters outside as well." "Ah."
Jin-Woo looked down at his attire. He had been staying inside the restricted zone the entire time, commanding his soldiers, so his clothes had become quite disheveled.
'What do I do about this...'
But he didn't want to go out of his way to travel to yet another location just to change clothes. And he couldn't just buy any random outfit from a shop like he used to.
'...Wait a second.'
Buying clothes from the Shop? The System Shop was no longer accessible now that the System was gone, but the power that had been used to maintain the System originally belonged to the Shadow Monarch himself. That meant creating clothes to wear was theoretically entirely possible. In that instant, Jin-Woo recalled the only garment he could currently create. Shwaa—in the blink of an eye, black smoke flooded the waiting room and wrapped around Jin-Woo's body as if it were alive.
"Wah!"
Woo Jin-Cheol stumbled back in shock, his eyes wide, when the black smoke had already transformed into jet-black armor.
"How's this?"
Armor was originally one of the essential pieces of equipment Hunters wore to protect themselves from the transcendent power of monsters. With equipment this remarkable added to a Hunter of Jin-Woo's caliber, an overwhelming sense of pressure radiated outward. Crushed by the majestic sight, Woo Jin-Cheol managed to move his lips and reply.
"It... it'll do nicely."
Jin-Woo offered a faint smile.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Jin-Woo shifted his gaze back toward the door and slowly stepped into the auditorium. The moment he did, the murmuring fell silent in an instant.
'Hunter Sung Jin-Woo...!' 'He's come.'
Every pair of eyes converged on the single figure standing on the podium—Jin-Woo. Jin-Woo surveyed their faces and quietly collected the overlapping thoughts in his mind. He was about to tell these people what lay ahead. That eight great armies, each desiring the destruction of the world, were on the verge of arrival. That each of those armies was composed of demonic soldiers that humanity was powerless to oppose.
'...'
Once they learned the truth, what would happen to the anxious eyes currently waiting for an official announcement? The tension squeezing their hearts reached all the way to Jin-Woo, darkening his expression slightly.
"..."
Everyone held their breath and leaned in to listen to Jin-Woo's voice. The already quiet auditorium grew even quieter. After a brief pause, Jin-Woo infused mana into his throat, not needing a microphone.
"It will be a difficult time for everyone."
Jin-Woo's voice spread gently through the silent hall. He could hear the representatives swallowing dryly, their hearts pounding hard. But the louder their heartbeats grew, the more strangely calm Jin-Woo's own pulse became. His gaze grew solemn.
'...The tension is fading.'
Having regained complete composure at some point, Jin-Woo continued in a steady voice.
"But none of you can look away from this fight. They will appear before your very eyes, and they will destroy everything you have."