Episode 15
“The briefing from the scout team ends here. We’ll take questions now.”
As soon as the briefing ended, the meeting room buzzed with murmurs.
Well, it made sense. The scout team’s report was pretty serious.
“We figured the delay meant trouble, but this sounds worse than expected.”
Everyone in that room was a top-tier hunter or awakened person—no rookies here.
And even they looked shocked. That meant this S-rank dungeon was no joke.
Then the questions started pouring in.
“What about the monster types?”
“Did you get the map done?”
“How long do you think the raid will take?”
“Let me answer those one at a time.”
The scout team leader stepped forward, wearing a cast on his arm—proof of just how rough the dungeon was.
They’d only gotten back at dawn, and here he was, showing up injured to this meeting.
“Most of the monsters were mid-sized insect types. They don’t see very well, but they’ve got crazy sharp instincts.
One of our stealthiest hunters got caught off guard. And from the way they react, it seems like the dungeon boss is
really smart.”
The scout team was supposed to be stealth-focused—just there to gather info, not fight.
So the fact that they’d been attacked this badly meant something was seriously wrong.
One of the members almost didn’t make it back.
“As for the mapping… we failed.”
“Wait, what? You must’ve taken more than one scanner in with you, right?”
“Yeah, we used two. But even after a whole week, we couldn’t finish mapping the place.”
That answer made everyone’s face drop.
The chatter in the room got louder.
Mapping tech was one of the best tools created in over 250 years of dealing with dungeons.
Unless it was a dungeon break, most dungeons could be mapped ahead of time using energy scanners.
The method was reliable and precise. It only ever failed in one case—
—when the dungeon was just too big for the machines.
Even then, adding a second device usually did the trick.
But both machines had failed?
“This is a first in Korea since we started using mapping systems.”
“Geez… They spent a whole week in there and still couldn’t map the whole thing…”
The hunters groaned. This was turning into a worst-case scenario.
“So we’re probably looking at a raid period of at least two weeks, maybe a month?”
“Yes, I came to the same conclusion.”
That got even more people worried.
“Judging by the report, this is the most unpredictable S-rank dungeon East Asia’s seen since the Okinawa incident 10
years ago. Shouldn’t we bring in more hunters?”
They had already called in some from overseas through the International Hunter Association.
But if they needed even more people, they’d have to send out an emergency request ASAP.
Still, the final decision was up to the commander.
“What do you think, Hunter Geum Seong-hwan?”
All eyes turned to him.
He hadn’t said a word since the meeting began.
“Hunter Geum, do you have any thoughts—?”
Before anyone else could press, someone else spoke up.
“Team lead, how many people are we deploying right now?”
It was Park Jae-moon, the new head of the Special Incident Response Department.
He calmly flipped through his notes like he wasn’t worried at all.
“As of yesterday, 45 people confirmed—37 local, 8 foreign. Over 80% are B-rank or higher.”
It was a decent-sized team for a high-level raid, actually around average for S-rank raids.
But some people—including the director—clearly thought it wasn’t enough.
“That’s way too few. As someone from the scout team, I say we need more. Double it. This dungeon was too much for
even two mapping machines.”
His point: big dungeon = big raid team.
The room went quiet. It was a bold suggestion.
“Since we don’t know where the dungeon core is, the top priority is finding it fast. More people = faster search. That’s
the best strategy, don’t you think?”
The core was what made the dungeon tick. Find it, and the dungeon could be shut down.
Park kept stressing that.
And honestly, he wasn’t wrong.
More people would make finding the core easier.
A lot of the hunters were starting to agree with him.
But in the end, the call had to be made by the raid commander.
“What do you think, Hunter Geum?”
Park looked right at Seong-hwan with a slight smirk.
It was time for him to finally say something.
“Hmph.”
Seong-hwan glanced around the room.
He didn’t look happy. His eyebrows twitched ever so slightly.
“Why is everyone panicking…”
That was his first official comment—and it sounded like he was muttering under his breath.
“If you’ve got extra hunters, send them to other dungeons or keep them in reserve for emergencies.”
“…May I ask why you’re against it?”
Park didn’t bother hiding his irritation.
“This is an S-rank dungeon. If we mess this up, it’ll be a disaster. Aren’t you being a bit too relaxed?”
Park was raising his voice, but Seong-hwan just let out a small laugh.
Something about Park’s performance didn’t sit right with him. It felt… staged.
Even the way some staff and hunters were backing him felt fishy.
“I guess I’ve been too quiet for too long.”
Seong-hwan gave a rare smirk. He looked totally calm and confident.
“I’m the commander here. Let’s not forget that.”
He leaned back.
“And what, you think high-level hunters grow on trees? They’ll just end up standing around watching if they come
with me. Might as well send them somewhere they’re actually needed.”
Strong awakened people were everywhere these days, but licensed hunters? Way harder to find.
And B-rank or higher? That’s like 10% of all hunters, if that.
If you drag all of them into one S-rank dungeon, who’s going to handle the rest?
Dangerous dungeons were popping up all over the place, even if they weren’t S-rank.
Park had to understand that—he was the department head, after all.
“…Are you really sure about this?”
“Yes. Nothing to worry about.”
The room went quiet again.
People clearly didn’t love his answer, but no one dared argue.
This was Geum Seong-hwan, the one and only.
He cleared the Okinawa dungeon 10 years ago with just 16 people and a 98% survival rate—and even got a medal
from Japan.
There was no one better at leading large-scale raids.
His tactics and judgment had saved lives time and time again.
With no one arguing back, he smiled and continued.
“Back in my day, we didn’t have mapping tech like this. We’d spend months trapped in a dungeon trying to find the core.”
No one dared interrupt his old-man story.
Even the older hunters didn’t have as much experience as him.
“My goal this time: clear the dungeon in a week and bring everyone home alive.”
If it wasn’t Geum Seong-hwan leading this raid…
Nobody would be confident.
But since it was him—
Everyone agreed.
