A calamity from another world that ignores the laws of nature, rips space with cracks, and appears at random.
Blue Hole (blue-hole).
Commonly, a monster gate.
Under the Special Disaster Act, awakeners bear the duty of handling these rifts. When the Babel Network pre-announces gate coordinates, the Center coordinates with the Association and assigns awakeners.
The assigned hunters then adjust their schedules a bit. They wait for the set date, and when the beasts come out, they beat them down and close the gate.
A clean, efficient system for everyone.
But as mentioned before, no matter how hard Babel works, sudden rifts and guerrilla dungeons still appear.
In those times, the Center's emergency response unit deploys, and they summons any nearby hunters they can get, indiscriminately.
In other words, the higher the population density, the faster the resolution.
Wiiiiiiiii—
[Sudden Gate detected, Sudden Gate detected.]
[A spontaneous rift has occurred. Citizens nearby, please evacuate the area quickly and move to a safe place.]
Emergency Disaster Text
━ x/xx ━
! Emergency Disaster Text [Ministry of the Interior and Safety]
Coordinates
37˚30'16.4"N 127˚03'00.4"E
Today 20:14, Level-6 sudden rift. Under the Special Disaster Act, nearby awakeners are requested to respond.
Oh, lucky.
The Strawberry Xtreme Jioh ordered was the last one.
Once the sirens blared, everyone—from the staff to the customers—scrambled to evacuate.
If she stayed seated alone, she'd stand out too much, so Jioh stood and followed along.
'Been a long time since I've gotten a call-up.'
Since the CSAT ended, she'd been living locked up at the art academy, so there'd been no texts to receive, and that vicious, atrocious social-ill boarding cram school banned phones altogether.
Thanks to that, it's been a very long time.
Level-6, huh, Level-6...
Sluuurp—she drew on the straw and came to a conclusion.
Yup. I don't need to go.
Rift danger runs from Level 1 to Level 9.
Level 1 is the most dangerous, Level 9 is bubblegum. (By Gyeon Jioh standards.)
If it's Level 1, it's not a scrap of text like this—you get a full-scale mobilization order.
If you disobey then, you can consider yourself a traitor to the nation.
For example, Mr. Yoo, who fled to the U.S. when a Level-1 gate occurred a few years back, still can't set foot on Korean soil.
I hear he goes by "Stephan Yoo" now?
Anyway, Level-6 is, what, lower-middle?
A mild level. (By Rank #1 standards.)
Plenty solvable between DDD-rank and D-rank hunters.
And it's Seolleung Station on a weekend.
There must be at least dozens of hunters hanging around nearby.
Pulling her hood low, Jioh pushed open the glass door and stepped out...
"Huh?"
There was a Level-6—but now there isn't...
'Did the world's standards change while I was living trapped in a boarding cram school?'
As the gate opened, the beasts began to show themselves.
People fled in panic, rushing past Jioh. A few even bumped her shoulder. The hood she'd pulled down flipped back, and her view went wide.
With the straw between her lips, Jioh's face was grave.
Sluuurp.
'Those are desert spiders. Aren't desert spiders a nesting-type monster? They don't move alone.'
Sluuurp.
'See? They don't move alone. Another one over there. Two, three, four... At this rate, this isn't Level-6—more like Level-4, right?'
Sluuurp.
'My poor homeland is a mess, tsk tsk.'
If anyone had heard, they'd have pointed and said what kind of bystander back-seat gamer is this—but who cares?
Outwardly, Gyeon Jioh was just one decent citizen.
She was even short enough to look like someone who needed immediate protection.
[Your Covenant Star, "Reader of Fate," is flabbergasted—are you still here.]
[It retorts that it clearly told you there'd be a gate ahead.]
"You're here?"
Jioh greeted it with a bored tone.
It shot back that no one told it to be ambiguous, but her Covenant Star gave no answer. It must be sulking.
Meanwhile, the area near the station was chaos.
Subway passengers were pouring out of the exits, and hunters were arriving one after another.
Up to that point, Jioh still had a bit of hesitation left—but then her stomach felt at ease.
Because she spotted a familiar face.
"You punks, get your heads on straight! Can't you stack a barricade properly! How are you going to manage if you're flustered by a measly Level-5 beast!"
Emergency Response Unit of the Center.
Among them, Kwon Gye-na, a BBB-rank hunter of Suppression & Rescue Team 1—that team of supposed national top-tier elites.
A direct subordinate of high-ranker Team Leader Kim Si-gyun, and someone Jioh knew well.
If it's her, she's reliable.
Koo-gu-goong!
Right on cue, one desert spider toppled.
Since Kwon Gye-na grabbed a megaphone, the situation was rapidly coming under control.
'Got it. I'll go. Constellation-nim, are you there? I'm going. Man, you sulk way too easily.'
It's hard living with a Constellation.
Jioh tossed her emptied cup and turned to leave. Ahem—she really meant to.
"...Why are you doing this to me?"
"As I explained, in the current situation, moving individually is more dangerous. Even if you're anxious, please follow our guidance and remain inside the barricade."
"Student, enough—come over here quickly. If you get in the way of busy people, we all get in danger."
"No... My rabbit-like mom and deer-like little brothers are waiting at home."
"Aigo. So your house is nearby. I understand how you feel, but what can you do? Come on over here."
The Korean specialty—social pressure—was already in effect. In such a dangerous situation, why is that brat not listening and acting up—like that.
Ah, Korean warmth. So warm it's hot.
Jioh, sulky, walked inside the line. With one hand she shot off a quick Kakao.
Mom'sBoy │ 010-7351-xxxx
━ September 11 ━
Hey
Gyeon Riok
Rok-rok-a-rok-a rok
Save me I'm trapped in a barricade Is it okay that you alone are scarfing warm soondubu ssigae? It's cold and I'm hungry here hurry up and come
What's this? These red, ominous marks next to the messages...? Ah.
"What's the Wi-Fi password for this barricade?"
"Student, this isn't a Paris Baguette. There's no such thing here. You must be having a hard time—cheer up."
The same lady who'd been fussing over her patted her shoulder. Jioh's face darkened rapidly.
[Constellation "Reader of Fate" scolds you—see how nice it would've been if you'd listened in advance.]
[It tsks its tongue: Haven't you heard that if you listen to your elders, rice cakes appear even in your sleep.]
What to do?
She snuck glances toward the hunters, wondering if there were any connections she could use, but with a Level-6 call, there was no way the top-tier rankers would show up.
Shallow and narrow—lone-wolf Gyeon Jioh's network was skewed entirely to the upper ranks.
'Why is everyone a minnow, so tragic...'
Even as she entertained that arrogant thought, broken asphalt chunks fluttered like cherry blossoms around the station.
Charge in without thinking and you'd crack your skull open—no problem.
It was an instant picture of why they'd blocked individual movement.
"Suppression & Rescue is here—so why isn't the gate closed? Agent Kwon Gye-na should be more than enough, right?"
Near the barricade,
a riot officer holding a reinforced shield whispered to his senior.
"Didn't you hear? They say there's a little kid stuck inside the station, and some F-rank ran in. We're waiting for that guy. Damn it, what a crap location. Of all places, why did it have to spawn at the station entrance."
"An F-rank? Is that even allowed?"
"It's not."
"Sir?"
"Don't you know how fickle rifts are? Even if we don't close it on our end, there's a very real chance it could close on its own. Then he'd never come back. Even the D-ranks don't want to go in, look how they're dragging their feet—who does he think he is."
When a gate closes, the shock wave sucks in a fair bit of the surroundings.
This sudden rift had spawned right above Exit 3, so it was obvious the entrance would get caught up too.
"...Still, I hope he comes back."
The young officer put a small hope into words. His senior muttered as he looked at the entrance.
"Then a hero is born..."
Ku-goong. The last desert spider fell.
Kwon Gye-na hesitated for the briefest moment, then moved without delay.
"Wrap it up! Team 1, we're entering the station!"
"Hey! Kwon Gye-na, are you out of your mind?"
A senior from Suppression & Rescue Team 2, who'd deployed alongside her, grabbed her and barked.
"If he's still not out, it means the nest inside the station is full of hatchlings! That means you shut this one first! Don't you know that, you of all people!"
"Then you close it, sunbae. I'm going in."
"What?"
Kwon Gye-na coldly shook off his arm.
For a moment, the team leader's sigh—rein in your temper—flashed through her mind, but still, she wanted to live as her heart commanded, at least for now.
"You close it, you f—ing idiot."
The air around the gate was already wrong.
There was no time for this. Kwon Gye-na turned her body toward the entrance.
And then—
"I-I'm coming out!"
"Medical team! Stretcher here! Bring the stretcher first!"
A truly dramatic timing.
A young man holding a child. The instant the two burst out from inside, the entrance collapsed with a thunderous roar.
The medical team rushed over.
But instead of accepting their hands, the young man met the child's eyes.
Kwon Gye-na could read his lips perfectly.
It's all over. You're okay.
Looking closely—contrary to the young man, who was a wreck—the child was spotless, without a scratch. Kwon Gye-na let out an unconscious low sound.
Hero...!
They'd said he was an F-rank, but what did that matter?
This era needs exactly that kind of person, thought civil servant Kwon Gye-na, who chose modest pay and justice over a seven-figure salary.
Those watching felt much the same.
From the barricade side, cheers and applause burst from the citizens.
Gripping her surging emotion, Kwon Gye-na approached him.
"Excuse me, may I ask your name?"
Waaah, so moving. Ah-mazing.
Jioh clapped like a seal in the crowd. At the same time, she didn't forget to ask the person beside her,
"We can go home now, right? I want to see my mom too."
More honestly, she wanted to see her bed. As they say, leave home and you suffer—she ached for the inside of her blanket.
The beasts were dead. There were no fatalities. Only the gate-closure procedure remained, right?
Hurry home, wash up, write "Today I witnessed a fine sight" in her diary, and sleep—perfect.
As always, it only takes one loach to muddy the whole pond.
At Jioh's tossed-off remark, the citizens began to murmur.
Watching heroes is great, but heroes are always cooler on video than in person.
Under the increasingly prickly gazes, the riot police deliberated, then opened a path.
To their eyes, the situation looked roughly settled.
[Trait, 'Warm-up Man,' has been added.]
'Huh?'
[Your Covenant Star, "Reader of Fate," sighs.]
[It confides to the neighboring parents that it has no idea where you pick up such rotten habits when you don't even go out.]
Hmm. There seemed to be a misunderstanding, but it wasn't important. First, get out of here.
People began to move one by one. Pulling up her hood, Jioh melted into the crowd.
But in the tiny instant before she flipped her hood up—truly a sliver of a moment—
when she glanced back, just slightly—
someone who'd been anxiously biting his lip widened his eyes in shock.
Far away,
the "Reader of Fate" propped its chin and let out a dry chuckle.
So, it comes to this after all.
He hadn't known this person would be here at this time.
If he had, so much would have changed. That sacrifice might not have happened.
No—he was certain.
He strode forward without hesitation. He reached out, without wavering,
to the person he knew—the strongest magician in the world.