📰 Breaking News Sudden Gate appears after 2 years—Guardian emergency response team averts major crisis with swift action.Guardian 4th Squad Leader Bulldozer Ma Seokgi suffers 14-week injury.Citizen reports from the scene: AAA-grade monster 'Hydra' presumed to be the gate boss. Under verification by the association.'Hydra' annihilation video on YouTube goes viral, surpassing 100 million views. 💬 Comments — AnonHunter99 So damn cool. Hydra just gets obliterated in one shot. — GateFanatic Whoa, pure badassery. What the hell was that? — SkillSpotter Ma Seokgi pulled off some crazy skill at the end, right?? — RankWatcher Wait, Bulldozer's that strong? That's almost S-Rank level. And a close-combat guy like him using something like that? Looked like magic—light or lightning... no, flames maybe? What even was it? No clue. ⭐ Top Comment — HydraSlayerFan Everyone in Guardian gets hit by Hydra's howl and paralyzed, but Ma Seokgi's still moving. Nothing around him, so definitely his trump card skill. — PowerLeveler So the A-Rank Bulldozer's actually way stronger than that? He's been hiding it all this time and unleashed it at the last second? Hell yeah! — FirstTimeViewer First time seeing it live. Hiding power for real... insanely cool. — SquadLeaderFan He's the leader of Guardian Squad 4, so "hiding power" feels a bit off... — GuildSkeptic Were all the hunters and guilds asleep at that hour? Why'd Guardian have to suffer alone? — NewFan420 Becoming a Ma Seokgi stan starting today! Anyone know his fan site? — BulldogClub O! Newbie? Welcome to Ma Seokgi Fan Club 'Bulldog'. — LOLKing Bulldog? LMAOOOOO — FanClubMeme Didn't expect the fan club name to tank it in one minute. LOL — LaughterKing LMAOOOOOOOO
The day after the Sudden Gate incident at Hongdae Station, the internet was buzzing.
It was the first Sudden Gate in Korea in two years, and the boss just happened to be the notoriously tough-to-subdue AAA-grade monster, the Hydra.
But above all, the hot topic was how Bulldozer Ma Seokgi had conquered the Sudden Gate—including the Hydra—with just his Guardian 4th Squad.
And without a single casualty, no less.
Then, footage captured on a citizen's smartphone from the scene went public, ramping up public interest even further.
Thus, the Bulldozer—who was fated to spend weeks wrapped head to toe in bandages at the hospital, unable to move a muscle—unwittingly became the official "hidden powerhouse."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Bustle, bustle.
A busy office filled with people rushing about.
"Yes, author-nim. I got your email. We'll proceed as is."
"...You promised the manuscript by today. Launch schedule's set—we can't delay anymore."
"Sales figures? I'll check right now and get back to you. Sure thing."
This place, with its stylishly mounted "Gold Label" sign on the wall, was one of Korea's established mid-tier web novel publishers.
Mid-tier or not, managing over a hundred authors kept the office humming like this.
And amid the chaos, a meeting was underway in one of the small conference rooms.
Hmm.
A man in his thirties—suit sharp, silver-framed glasses, neatly trimmed goatee—stroked his chin while eyeing his tablet.
His name was Gu Kyungmo.
A veteran among veterans, years deep in the web novel industry.
He had a reputation for sharp instincts, but there was another rumor: when it came to editing, his hot-blooded side kicked in hard.
More than a few authors had ended up in tears because of it.
Yet his skills were undeniable—works under him had a high hit rate for blockbusters. Since last year, aspiring authors had been reaching out, eager to work with him.
But this time... had even his famed instincts failed him?
Gu Kyungmo's face, fixed on the tablet, looked utterly frustrated.
His gaze soon shifted to the young man sitting across from him, hat pulled low over his eyes.
And sure enough, the hatted guy had been watching him nervously the whole time.
"Whew."
Gu Kyungmo set the tablet on the desk with a sigh.
"..."
Even the densest person would get it.
This reaction meant the manuscript was another dud.
The someone who'd strode in here brimming with confidence not long ago had shrunk into a timid mess, eyes darting anxiously.
Gu Kyungmo finally spoke.
"Author-nim. Do you know what's most important in vocational stories?"
"...What is it?"
"It's realism—the kind that only that job can deliver, the on-site feel."
"...Yes."
"So, what about hunter stories?"
"...Dunno."
Once your self-esteem hits rock bottom, even things you know become hard to say.
"Combat. Combat! Taking down monsters! The nail-biting battles of hunters that grip you!"
And yet, there's none of that in your work. Far from gripping, it just makes people think, 'Huh? They go down that easy? Are you kidding?'"
"..."
"You can't treat monsters that casually. We're safe because countless hunters protect us, but monsters are horrors even regular armies can't handle. So, what would a normal person think facing one of those nightmares?"
But instead of nodding, Tae Ihyeon just tilted his head in confusion.
It felt like the editor was talking to a wall, but he barreled on with his tirade.
"Despair. Despair. 'Oh, this is how I die!'"
"...Ah. Yeah."
"Mix that civilian despair with hunter sacrifices and pulse-pounding combat—that's the blend. But!"
The editor tapped the tablet displaying the manuscript.
"Your work lacks that realism. Realism."
"..."
"How do the monsters get wiped out by one protagonist attack? And the boss in one hit? This isn't One-Punch Man. With power balance this messed up, how do you plan past chapter 100? Hell, chapter 50 would be impossible."
"..."
"Got it? It needs to be fun, sure, but hit that raw on-site feel and realism, and the fun doubles and lasts. One more time: realism is key. Understand?"
"...Yes."
Tae Ihyeon's voice grew smaller under Gu Kyungmo's firm tone.
He looked so deflated he might as well have merged with the chair. Gu Kyungmo sighed again.
His editing-fueled passion ebbed away.
"Phew... Sorry if I came on too strong."
"No, it's fine."
"But it's not to hurt you... Take it as how crucial that point is. I'd appreciate it."
"Yes..."
"Anyway, mull over what I said today, revise, and send it back. I'll read it right away. No need to come in next time—just email and we'll call."
"...Yes. Thanks for your time."
Tae Ihyeon bowed and shuffled out.
From afar, his steps looked heavy, dragging.
A far cry from the confident strut when he'd entered.
Gu Kyungmo wondered if he'd overdone it, then shook it off.
Tough love helped authors grow.
Vague feedback was poison for everyone—writer and editor alike.
Still, the guy looked crushed. Felt a bit bad.
"Whew."
Someone approached Gu Kyungmo, who'd been watching from afar.
"Ease up, team leader. You're gonna devour the poor guy."
"Huh? What?"
"Heard it all from the next room."
"Oh, really? Heh."
"That the new contract rookie?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it is."
"That hopeless?"
"Long road ahead. Very long."
"Then why sign him?"
"Hard to say. Felt this desperation in his writing? Passion, too. Reading it, I thought, 'Gotta try with this guy.' Next thing I know, contract email's sent."
"If it flops, you footing the advance?"
"What can ya do? Anyway, back to work."
"Ugh, gonna die. So many manuscripts."
"That's why we signed up. No dying."
The Gold Label office spun back into frenzy.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
A peaceful neighborhood—not too crowded, not too remote—along one street.
A building with a convenience store on the first floor, home on the second, rooftop on the third, bore the faded sign "Tae Jongdae Convenience Store."
Ding-a-ling!
"Welcome."
Tae Jongdae turned at the door chime, mid-customer service.
It was Tae Ihyeon, face glum.
He trudged past the counter to the drinks, grabbing a few familiar ones.
All the same: "Morning Sunlight," a grain drink made from rice.
"Kid, doesn't that get old? Moderation."
"Yessir. Yessir."
He cracked one open before checkout, sipping as he breezed past the counter and out.
A watching customer eyed the owner curiously.
"Boss, you do tabs here?"
"Nope."
"Then why'd that guy..."
"That's my son."
"Ah."
Understanding dawned; the customer paid for their items.
"I'm back."
Tae Ihyeon, looking winded even climbing stairs, staggered to the second floor and into the house.
His youngest brother, tapping away at a laptop under the sofa, caught his eye.
"Mom?"
"Market."
"No-answer?"
"Guild meeting."
"Right."
He dumped his bags haphazardly and flopped onto the sofa.
"Haa..."
"Hear the world's ending tomorrow or something? That sigh's deep."
Tae Ijun glanced up from his laptop under the sofa.
"What do you know, kid? This grown-up's heavy thoughts."
"Rejected again?"
"..."
Sharp as hell.
That's why quick kids were trouble.
"What can I even write well?"
"What'd they say?"
"Well..."
Tae Ihyeon, thoroughly dejected, recounted the publisher visit.
He'd stopped by a cafe after to revise and resubmit diligently, but it felt doomed again.
"...Hmm. I see."
Tae Ijun nodded.
"What's really the issue?"
He truly couldn't grasp it.
That's how he'd always fought, always seen it.
Write his battles straight, and it's "unrealistic."
One-shots are the problem.
Why?
The only non-one-shot...
"...Monster of Destruction. Just that one."
The Chaos Gate battle.
79 hours—precisely 79 hours, 17 minutes, 8 seconds. That grueling fight, pouring everything for days, was his first and last true ordeal.
A horrific memory he never wanted to relive.
Other fights? Nothing memorable.
The 12 Apostles, with power beyond common sense or imagination, probably all felt the same.
Especially Tae Ihyeon.
Meanwhile, Tae Ijun spoke up.
"Anyway, maybe you've never properly seen how regular hunters fight?"
"I've seen plenty. They charge yelling, collapse like dominoes, and we clean up."
"No, I mean, have you ever really observed how they fight? Have you?"
"...No?"
No reason to, from his vantage.
"Then it's settled. Observe regular hunters fighting."
"Where? Can't tag into low gates. And I'm not even a hunter anymore."
"Make a reason to tag along."
"How?"
"Go there. They'd help no matter what you say."
"There? Where?"
"Sigh. Smart as hell sometimes, total idiot others. Tsk tsk."
Tae Ijun tsked at his still-clueless brother.
"Hunter Association. Korea Hunter Association."
"...Huh? Oh!"
How hadn't he thought of that?
Tae Ihyeon bolted upright.
Packed in a rush.
"...Gonna head out again! Tell Mom I'll be back before dinner."
"Bro, at least call ahead for an appoint—"
Whoosh!
"—ment..."
He was gone before the words landed.
"Ugh, that rascal."
Tae Ijun just shook his head at the empty spot.
And so, the aspiring writer—two years without a clue—headed to the Korea Hunter Association for research.
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