When Awakened first appeared, there was significant debate about their true nature.

The initial opinion was unequivocal rejection.

It was asserted that Awakened—referred to at the time as sufferers of "Occipital Lobe Overgrowth Receptor Syndrome"—were a dangerous type of human mutation that needed to be isolated from society.

But, as always, the world is driven by money and efficiency, and theories are often merely the handmaids of "progress."

Hunters from the old era, like us, had already been under heavy criticism.

Compared to trained soldiers, there wasn’t much separating us from them, yet we bore the title of "Hunters," received better pay, and held more prestigious positions.

In nations like South Korea, where wealthier neighbors tended to absorb all the good things, information about Hunters was kept classified, their identities hidden.

In contrast, in the U.S., professional Hunters openly hunted mutations or monsters under their own names, building recognition and contributing to soldiers’ feelings of psychological deprivation.

That said, being a Hunter wasn’t easy.

Many Hunters lost their lives on the battlefield.

The high costs weren’t just about salaries—governments saw it as indicative of extreme loss rates.

Take our 13th class, for example: of the 1,200 members, only 300 survived.

I suddenly recalled what my mentor, Instructor Jang Ki-young—a first-generation Hunter who strongly insisted on being called "Professor"—once told me:

"Park Gyu, if there were a hundred guys like you in this world, we wouldn’t have been shoved into the backroom."

Then, the concept of a "new humanity" emerged.

That new humanity was none other than the Awakened.

Support for them sprouted up everywhere, led by the media. Before long, they were seen as the upgraded version of old-era Hunters.

My classmates played a key role in this transition: Kang Han-min and Na Hye-won.

During the direst moments of war, both awakened simultaneously.

Their awakening was like something out of a divine spectacle, as if gods had descended to save the world.

In that coronation of gods, I was nothing.

They quickly became the mainstream on the monster front, while we old-era Hunters, just as my mentor had predicted, were gradually sidelined and eventually became irrelevant.

The fate of old-school Hunters who failed to save up money is exemplified by people like Baek Seung-hyun.

Defender’s case is even more tragic.

He was betrayed by the very times.

If I had to guess, he was probably part of the 17th or 18th class, based on his age.

He enlisted as an old-era Hunter during the transitional period before the system shifted to the Awakened model. He experienced hell in China and North Korea before returning to Korea—a cursed cohort.

“Phew…”

Running full speed through a mountain path with a corpse on my back wasn’t easy, even with the downhill incline.

Balancing the need to watch for traps and monitoring soldiers’ movements only added to the difficulty.

“What do we do now, Oppa?”

Even now, the voices of the Defender siblings buzzed through my communicator.

“Quiet. Let’s try that,” Defender said.

“What’s that?”

“You know.”

What were they up to? Could it be…?

No, not that. Not the one thing I hated—seduction tactics.

“Even Awakened are just regular humans if you penetrate their reflective barrier,” Defender said.

“That’s not quite true,” I cut in.

“They probably have one or two protective abilities.”

“Skelton?” both siblings asked in unison.

“Just hold out. Don’t fight them. Stall as long as you can—I’m on my way.”

“Skelton… my father’s body?”

“I’ll bring it with me. Don’t worry.”

“No, Skelton.”

Defender’s voice grew louder. He must have brought the mic closer to his mouth, because his whisper came through crystal clear.

“Just go. Forget the body.”

“Forget it?”

“You came here for us. That’s enough. I’m grateful—I really am. Thanks to you, I’ve felt some semblance of humanity in this cursed world. I was too harsh earlier. I’m sorry.”

This guy.

Who knew he could say such sweet things?

He sounded even more endearing than his sister.

“We’ll handle this ourselves. Our opponent is Awakened. I don’t want to drag you into this.”

Just then, a voice—loud and cheerful—echoed through the communicator. It wasn’t Defender or his sister.

“Brothers! Don’t worry! We won’t hurt you. We’re doves of peace and harmony!”

That had to be the cultists who had cornered the Defender siblings.

Manryu Gwijeongyo.

In China, I’d spent my last days dealing with those human trash.

The imagination of the Chinese is evident in Journey to the West or The Romance of the Three Kingdoms.

But even they couldn’t have predicted humans and monsters charging into the capital together.

Though over a hundred million cultists had vanished along with their founder, Ma Won-gap, new fanatics spread like poisonous mushrooms, preaching death in unison with the monsters.

Monsters didn’t seem to actively accept them as allies, but neither did they attack them. Instead, it was as if the monsters ignored their existence.

Facing both human and monster enemies simultaneously left us with few viable options.

“Stay put,” I said once more.

“I have an idea.”

“An idea?”

“Yeah. Just stall for as long as you can.”

“I’ll try,” Defender’s sister said.

Through the mic, I could hear her putting on a cheerful, innocent tone:

“Hey there~! The engine broke down!”

She sure could talk well with cultists, considering how she only ever texted me.

While she stalled them, I asked Defender for details: the number of enemies, their weapons, and specifics about the Awakened among them.

I was especially curious about one thing.

“What kind of wave are they giving off?”

“Skelton… were you a Hunter too?”

“More or less. Now, answer the question.”

“Their pulse feels upward, like it’s reverberating.”

“How big?”

“Not too large.”

“So, at least Level 5.”

“Could be higher. They might be holding back.”

Soon, I spotted the Awakened.

The man stood at the forefront, dressed in priestly robes—a blasphemous sight.

Behind him, five men and women armed with baseball bats and ropes formed a wall.

No guns. Probably because they didn’t need them—their weapons suggested they intended to capture, not kill.

Right on time.

“Ah, sister! Someone’s still in the truck, right? Why aren’t they coming out?”

At his gesture, the group with bats approached the truck.

Defender stepped out, aiming his gun at them.

The cultists flinched and backed off, but the Awakened didn’t waver.

“Well, well,” he said with a smirk, summoning the powers granted by his so-called god.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The ground shook as his waves rippled outward.

This one was at least Level 5, maybe higher.

“Another soul lost in prejudice,” the Awakened muttered with a tone of pity.

Defender and his sister were visibly shaken.

“Is… is that even human?” his sister asked, her voice trembling.

It was a natural reaction. Awakened powers were far from human.

But why was Defender so shaken? He’d faced Awakened before in China, hadn’t he? Or were the rumors true—that cursed cohorts were abandoned, receiving inadequate training?

“Skelton,” Defender said, his voice trembling.

“Run. You don’t need to die here.”

His sentiment was appreciated.

But that Awakened’s waves…

They were nothing compared to those of my comrades.

“Defender.”

I placed the corpse down and spoke into the communicator.

“Have you ever killed an Awakened?”

“Only with ricochet rounds.”

“So, no. How about monsters?”

“With Hunter gear and fire support…”

“Fine. Get your sister into the truck.”

“What? You’re going to fight alone?”

The handgun spun in my hand—a dormant weapon coming to life.

“Watch carefully. It might be useful to you.”

To us, Hunters, a Call Sign was more than a nickname. It was a title earned after much deliberation from our instructors.

Mine was “Professor,” unanimously decided because of my flawless techniques.

Awakened had ended my lectures, but today, I would teach again.

The Awakened didn’t even flinch as I approached.

Bang!

The bullet fired.

The black field appeared before me—a reflective barrier, a mirror-like defense unique to Awakened.

But the bullet grazed me harmlessly on its return.

“Watch closely,” I muttered, unsheathing my axe.

When it was over, only the Awakened remained, kneeling in a broken prayer.

“This is where your doctrine ends,” I said coldly, driving the axe into his skull.

Wiping the blood from the blade, I turned to the siblings, who stared wide-eyed.

“Let’s go.”

Today’s lesson was over.

*

Under the glow of the full moon, which had spent the night veiled by clouds, it was as if the celestial body sought to release its sorrow by proudly illuminating the horizon even as dawn broke. The moon, lingering near the central ecliptic, cast its pale light alongside the sun's rising radiance.

Beneath this mix of sunlight and moonlight, we prepared to bid farewell to a single corpse.

A son and a father reunited—after two years and five months.

The murderer of countless fathers now faced the shriveled visage of his own, his trembling eyes betraying fear and reverence alike.

"Father," Defender whispered.

His elegant, pale fingers grazed the corpse’s dried face.

"…I’m sorry."

He bowed his head.

No sobs, no tears—just a silent bow that lasted for an extended moment, unmoving.

Defender’s sister glanced at me, the match in her hand poised to ignite. She nodded slightly in my direction.

Returning the gesture, I stepped away, leaving them alone.

As Defender had said, this was a family matter. One that an outsider like me had no place meddling in.

Moments later, a thin plume of smoke rose, carried far by the dawn breeze.

In the distance, a combat helicopter soared northward through the sky.

*

Despite the tumultuous series of events, I became neighbors with the Defender siblings, though we shared little interaction at first.

The communication device I had given them remained silent. Defender stopped appearing on the community boards as well.

Under normal circumstances, his absence would have stirred up speculation—people would have asked questions. But the frequent incursions by PaleNet intruders and the steady decline in activity on our forums meant most users had shifted to browsing the higher-quality content on PaleNet. His absence didn’t make much of an impact.

And yet, I couldn’t help but wonder… was this all part of Jonnaenon’s plan? That man always gave me the chills.

It wasn’t until a week and a day after their reunion with their father that Defender reached out again.

"Hey, Skelton! Skelton! My brother has something to tell you!" his sister chirped.

What was this? A thank-you, perhaps?

No thanks were necessary. Honestly, I already felt reassured having one more allied neighbor nearby. It was comforting in its own way.

But perhaps I had underestimated this sibling duo.

After a long pause, Defender finally spoke.

"S-Suh-seobang…!"

"?!"

"Let’s have a housewarming party, Suh-seobang!"

What?