Episode 15
15. Received.
Six months later.
**Taeseong Guild Master’s Office.**
“So? Is this a resignation letter?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I thought a foreign-educated person like you would have some backbone. Disappointing, Jeong Do-il.”
“If I lasted four months here, that’s already more than enough, Master Joo. I heard my predecessor didn’t even last a month.”
“We’re not stopping you. You know the way out, right?”
“I’ve learned a lot while I was here.”
“Glad to hear it. If fate allows, we might meet again.”
“I doubt that. I’ll be going back to the U.S.”
“That’s a shame. Even if nothing else, your hunting skills are solid. Just having you here in Korea would have been a huge help.”
“With a master like you around, do you really think I’d be of any help?”
“The more skilled hunters, the better.”
“By the way… before I leave, I want to ask something. Why are you in such a trash guild? This place is hopeless. Honestly, someone of your caliber could have been hugely successful even in the U.S. I don’t understand why you’d linger in such a small country.”
“That’s the first time anyone’s asked me that. Hmm.”
Joo Se-a paused, thinking for a moment, then said:
“Because there’s a lot tying me here?”
“Excuse me?”
“Just leave it at that. Still, I answered out of respect for the fact that you survived four months in a trash guild as vice-master. Usually, if someone asks such a pointless question, I’d smash their head in.”
Jeong Do-il shrank his neck.
Had he somehow touched Joo Se-a’s nerve?
Though they had only worked together for four months, he had already experienced enough of her personality. If she said she’d smash your head, she meant it.
He still vividly remembered her wreaking havoc in the lobby of the Slayer Guild headquarters, one of the top guilds in Northeast Asia, not just Korea.
Normally, antagonizing a guild of that scale would require preparing for assassination, but this guild master seemed completely unaware of the danger.
He had endured four months inspired by that very boldness, but the guild was rotten to its core, and there was nothing more he could do.
His question had been out of concern that a hunter of Joo Se-a’s caliber was stuck in such a place, but with the subtle threat in her gaze, he swallowed his next words.
*‘I was going to suggest introducing her to a top U.S. guild…’*
After Jeong Do-il left, Joo Se-a stared intently at her computer monitor.
It was the PC version of the guild app.
Under the hunter recruitment tab, the post “Looking for a Vice-Master” was boldly displayed.
Originally, the board was for freelance hunters to form parties, join guilds, or accept government orders.
But Joo Se-a had gotten angry when she couldn’t find a vice-master and drunkenly posted the ad herself. It was the first time such a high-level position was advertised like this, and it became a hot topic in media and hunter boards.
No resumes had come in, so she didn’t pay attention for a while. But when the second vice-master she hired quit, it caught her eye.
*‘I wish someone would apply, even like this.’*
Of course, that was wishful thinking. At first, hunters thought it was a joke, but when they realized she posted it, they deliberately avoided it. The tense relationship with the Slayer Guild made them wary.
Even serious applicants would never apply through such a casual post.
“This post won’t go away and just irritates people. Hah, damn alcohol. ‘Looking for a Vice-Master’—what’s with the wording?”
“Why did you post it without consulting me?”
Jang Deuk-gu clicked his tongue as he entered the office after seeing Jeong Do-il leave.
“Can’t the association delete this post? Or at least modify it.”
“You know the rule: posts can’t be deleted. If anyone deletes posts at will, it could be misused criminally.”
“I know, but I guarantee my identity.”
“Once you make an exception, the rule collapses. So no way.”
“Ugh, that old association president. They could have cut some slack between acquaintances. This society runs on connections, school ties, bloodlines.”
“Of course, but you, Master, don’t share any of those with the president.”
“That’s true…”
With that option gone, Joo Se-a suggested another approach.
“Maybe it’s because I didn’t bribe them? Should I donate to the association? Who knows, a little grease might soften that stubborn old man.”
“The guild has no money.”
“Damn! Who blocked the funds this time?”
“Even if we hunt, it’s just the two of us. That’s why. We survived thanks to the Bluegate auction at Sogang University. But now the treasury is empty. Without group support, independence is tough.”
“Why do they make such a fuss over a small, insignificant guild? Enemies everywhere. We need a breakthrough.”
“Speaking of which, the chairman invited you to dinner tonight. Go to the main house and borrow some money. Quick and easy solution.”
Joo Se-a’s eyes turned cold.
“I’d rather just sell my Hannam-dong mansion.”
“You already sold that.”
“Ah, right. Then at least my horses…”
“Sold too. Want me to list what’s gone?”
“No, I’d just feel sad. Let’s drop it.”
“If you can’t repay the loan by next month, you’ll be out on the street.”
“So what time?”
“Excellent decision.”
—
Seongsu-dong had been completely leveled during the Great War, then rebuilt as a luxury residential area for only the top 1% of South Korea.
The entrance had 24-hour security, and A-rank guilds and state hunters guarded the area against monsters.
It was second only to the Blue House in terms of security in South Korea.
Amid luxury cars and grand mansions, a low-tier domestic sedan appeared.
And it wasn’t in good shape: one headlight was broken, the hood dented as if hammered.
A security guard stopped the struggling sedan as if it might stall at any moment.
“What brings you here?”
When the guard bowed to the driver, the window slowly rolled down. The guard recoiled in surprise.
“Ah, Hunter Joo Se-a! Open the front gate! Please, come in.”
Even after entering the gate, she drove deep into the estate before stopping.
Another checkpoint guarded by more security awaited at the mansion entrance. They didn’t fuss and let her through.
As she parked, the sound of a violin reached her ears. Turning her head, she saw a vast garden hosting an outdoor party—big enough to be mistaken for a school playground.
“What? Whose birthday is this?”
She glanced at herself, noticing her messy appearance. Slightly bothersome, but being a hunter meant she didn’t care and entered the garden.
“You’re here too?”
A sharp voice pierced her ears.
Joo Se-a turned.
A woman with a face strangely similar to hers stood there. Determined eyes, a mocking smirk.
“Swim unnie came, so why shouldn’t I?”
“Huh? Unnie? Who said you’re part of the Tae family? You’ve never belonged to us.”
“Why is our Su-young so angry?”
“Hey!”
“You said I’m not your sibling? Then I’m not your unnie.”
“I-ik…!”
“Oh? Planning to hit me?”
“Think I can’t?”
“Go ahead. Taste the fists of a B-rank hunter. But can you handle the aftermath?”
As Joo Se-a stepped forward, Tae Su-young backed up two steps.
She was a hunter capable of matching an S-rank, and knew exactly how scary Joo Se-a was.
Just as her face started to pale under the pressure:
“Stop fighting. It’s father’s birthday—what kind of disgrace is this?”
“Oppa? Well, that one…”
“Aha! Su-young, how long will you act like a child? I told you to behave today.”
Tae Su-cheol, eldest son of the Tae family, a civilian, intimidated the hunter Tae Su-young with sheer presence.
Called a tiger in the industry, he lived up to his father Tae Jin-sung’s reputation.
Tae Su-cheol was in his 50s, and since Tae Jin-sung, over 70, still managed the business, Su-cheol’s front-line debut was delayed.
Despite possible frustration, Su-cheol remained patient, assisting his father diligently.
*‘That makes him even scarier. Even a hunter like Tae Su-young can’t move under his gaze.’*
Feeling her older brother’s near double-aged gaze, Joo Se-a scratched her head.
“I didn’t know it was father’s birthday. If I had, I’d have dressed up.”
“Sure looks a mess. Did you hunt a monster on the way?”
“A transport vehicle flipped. The ones inside tried to escape, so I knocked them around a bit.”
“You should’ve restrained yourself. Even monsters seem pitiful in front of you.”
Her irritation noticed, Joo Se-a’s nerves sharpened.
This house didn’t welcome her. Five siblings wanted to see her fail.
Externally polite, but the one who’d kept her stuck in the Taeseong Guild, unable to move, was Tae Su-cheol.
Seeing his smug face, she felt the urge to lash out.
“Oh dear, if I tease Korea’s strongest hunter too much, I might lose my head. How about changing clothes before greeting father?”
“No. I won’t stay long, so I’ll greet him like this.”
In a suit splattered with green fluid and heels soaked in the same color, she entered the garden, drawing everyone’s attention.
Joo Se-a’s presence, famous for skill and beauty, changed the dull outdoor party atmosphere instantly.
Her presence was overwhelming, almost erasing Tae Jin-sung from memory.
“Here? Eat something if you’ve arrived.”
Even in old age, Tae Jin-sung’s voice commanded the room.
Joo Se-a walked up.
“Father, happy birthday.”
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t prepare a gift.”
“Don’t need anything.”
“And please fund the guild a bit.”
“Why do you only talk about the guild when you see me? Talk to your brother about that.”
“No matter how much I talk, he won’t give.”
“Then your ability is lacking. Persuasion is a skill.”
“I can only persuade with my fists.”
Showing her fist, Tae Jin-sung groaned, pressing his forehead.
“How will you ever get married? Tsk tsk. Fine. If you change your surname, I’ll support you.”
“Wasn’t that settled?”
“How long will you cling to your dead mother’s name? Enough whining. Get it on your family registry.”
“I’ll assume you won’t support me. Then, enjoy your meal.”
Turning to leave, Tae Jin-sung’s voice stopped her, sharp with anger.
“The vice-master quit?”
“Did you hire someone?”
Joo Se-a turned back. Everyone held their breath at how boldly she spoke to the tiger-like chairman, including his own children. Only she could hold her head high like that.
Even the music stopped. In the silent hall, it was as if only father and daughter existed.
“You brag about controlling a messy guild? No matter how good you are at hunting, organization isn’t just about strength.”
“If our brilliant siblings hadn’t interfered, we wouldn’t be in such a pinch.”
“If you lack ability, accept it and bow your head. Be stubborn and you’ll break.”
“Sorry, I’m tough. Breaking me, human or monster, is impossible.”
“Your cheek! Tsk tsk! Jang Deuk-gu taught you nothing but mischief, huh?”
“He taught me more than my father. I’m always grateful.”
Tae Jin-sung’s expression changed—a cold, emotionless face. She recognized it from mirrors: father was very angry.
Unable to tolerate her stubbornness, he warned:
“Six months. Normalize the guild by then, or I’ll disband it.”
“What? Such short notice…”
“It’s been nearly a year. Enough time. Stop playing hunter, come to headquarters.”
“You mean quit hunting?”
“When will the daughter of the Taeseong family stop swinging swords? Can’t even find a proper vice-master? Even if money flows, I won’t pour it into a bottomless pit.”
“….”
Joo Se-a tried to think of a comeback, but couldn’t refute his words.
Then:
*Ding-dong!*
Her smartphone chimed loudly.
Perhaps because the hall was quiet, or she was focused on escaping, the notification sounded like a bell in her ears.
“Just a moment. I have an important message.”
She lied to buy time and checked her phone.
It wasn’t a text.
The alert came from the guild app.
*‘An emergency?’*
[**One resume has been received.**]
*‘Huh? A resume?’*
It was the first resume received since the quiet half-year of the recruitment post.
