Hunter Corps Training Camp — 3
Oh.
So that's how it is.
Grinning, Kim Min-jun told the buddies who'd missed the target that he'd make sure to enjoy their portions for them.
"Son of a bitch."
"I wish he'd just drop dead."
The rest could only smack their lips and let their shoulders sag.
"Eyes front!"
The platoon leader up on the platform drew every gaze.
"It's the final week of training, and only half of you have cleared the baseline. Compared to the last class, this cohort's capability is severely lacking."
It wasn't really that different, but he deliberately inflated the gap.
"If you graduate like this and ship out to your units, over half of you will be dead within a month. Think I'm lying?"
That, too, was an exaggeration.
Each class, he spun the same yarn to pump a sense of crisis and drag their performance up.
"Enough tough love. Your platoon leader's putting a prize on the line."
Stick delivered—time for the carrot.
"Less than seven days remain until completion. The final event—dungeon adaptation training—carries the heaviest weight in your evaluation."
He announced that the single top performer in the dungeon adaptation would earn a bonus leave usable anytime.
"And barring emergencies, you'll be excused from training to use it."
Not just a day—three days, two nights.
Valid even after assignment to a unit.
At this point, morale should've been blazing.
Huh? What's with those faces?
He frowned at the unexpectedly flat reaction.
It was the look of people resigned, like the winner was already decided.
Thanks in advance for the meal, boys.
Kim Min-jun flashed a thumbs-up at his cohort.
Military life.
A lot more fun than he'd expected.
**
"Whoa. Bonkers. This is Hunterria?"
"How many layers of beef patty is that?"
The recruits cheered at the burger known as the "last supper."
Why the nickname? Because the worst training of all came right after, and it wrung their souls dry.
"Even if we're headed to our doom, Hunterria's pretty great, right?"
"Why are you talking like you're about to die?"
Watching his buddies chow down with sauce smeared all over their mouths, Kim Min-jun snorted.
"Damn, this is insane. If I'd known it was like this, I'd have gone all out earlier."
At the rave review, he took a bite himself.
Sluuurp—
"Holy—!"
Juice from the patty cascaded down, not just wetting his lips but spilling out.
Regular burgers couldn't even show their face.
Outside, a burger of this quality would run you not ten thousand won—more like twenty.
"I heard the neighboring camp's getting Gundaeria."
"Gundaeria? Is that good?"
"Word is it'll jam you up with constipation."
"I'd eat Lotteria before I'd eat that."
He kept up the noisy banter with his cohort.
No officers stepped in to hush them.
The worst training of all was waiting right after graduation, after all.
**
In preparation for the afternoon's dungeon adaptation, the morning was spent on theory.
"You never know what will happen inside a dungeon. Starting with item one…"
It was the last and most important training.
But to the platoon leader's lullaby voice, heads began to nod one by one.
Since entering the Hunter Corps camp, they'd had nothing but high-intensity drills with only minimal rest. It was inevitable.
What is this… a skill?
Even Kim Min-jun—who'd been living on about an hour of sleep a day—felt the same.
He wasn't physically tired, but something about that voice made drowsiness creep in.
"All right, that's it for now. Approach the training as if it's the real thing."
He didn't bother waking the more-than-half who'd dozed off.
If anything, the sleepier they were, the better.
That way they'd really feel how spicy a dungeon could get.
**
2:00 p.m.
The recruits formed ranks about a kilometer from base, at the mouth of a dungeon.
They swallowed dryly, staring at the cave-like entrance.
"This is the dungeon I explained this morning, and it's your training ground."
The platoon leader produced a small pointer and indicated a spot.
"You will form teams of six and enter that shifting-type dungeon."
A dungeon whose internal layout changed in real time.
Usually a dungeon vanished once its monsters were cleared, but sometimes one lingered like this, intact.
In that case, it made an excellent training ground for Hunters.
"Inside, you'll face Hounds for one hour. Use any means necessary. We're evaluating crisis response and combat ability."
As he finished, military trucks rolled in one after another.
"Grrrrok!"
"…We're supposed to fight those?"
Seeing Hounds in the flesh for the first time, the recruits broke into a cold sweat.
And the thick protective suits stacked up front told them exactly what kind of training to expect.
"If a little Hound scares you, why'd you apply to the Hunter Corps!"
He barked at the frightened faces.
Among monsters, Hounds were the bottom rung.
With trained soldiers and decent teamwork, they were more than manageable.
"You gonna pull that crap when you get to your unit?"
"No, sir!"
"You want to smear mud on your platoon leader's face?"
"No, sirrr!"
"Then get those suits on—move!"
At his roar, the recruits scrambled.
Who the hell designed these things to be this clunky?
Kim Min-jun suited up along with the others.
A suit with zero thought given to comfort.
It felt like they'd just compressed thick steel plates and called it a day.
That this brute of a suit cost fifty million won each was laughable.
So this is the final training, huh.
He stared steadily at the Hounds penned behind iron bars.
Some glared back; others averted their eyes like they were spooked.
They said real Hunter Corps life starts after graduation, once you're assigned to a unit.
He recalled the instructor's line: if camp life were a game, finishing it was basically just clearing the tutorial.
"Hunter Corps recruit no. 128, Kim Min-jun. Sir, a question."
"Go ahead."
More than anything, he wanted out of this clunky tin can ASAP, so he raised his hand high.
"Once we take care of those Hounds, is the training over?"
"Right. As long as you clear them all within the time limit, you're good."
With anyone else, he might've given a warning about overconfidence.
But since it was the runaway top scorer Kim Min-jun, the platoon leader answered plainly.
"C'mon, even if he's first in training, this is different."
"Dude, you'll get hurt. They call it training, but it's basically semi-live."
The cohort agreed: even for Kim Min-jun, wiping Hounds in short order was impossible.
I just want this suit off. It's stifling.
He himself wasn't overthinking it.
"We'll begin dungeon adaptation now! Squad 1!"
"Sir!"
A moment later.
The assistant instructors—there to supervise and provide protection—arrived, and training commenced.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me.
Planning to wrap quickly, Kim Min-jun got stuck in the very last group.
He'd have to wait, pinned in this suit, until everyone else finished.
"Hey, when a Hound lunges, don't flinch. Grab two legs like this and fold it in half. Like so."
He shared a tip with his buddies on how to kill a Hound in under ten seconds.
"Listen to this madman."
"Not even Sergeant Lee could pull that off."
They treated him like a lunatic, of course.
"Hounds—release!"
"Releasing now!"
About twenty minutes after Squad 1 entered the dungeon, the platoon leader gave the cue, and an instructor loosed the restraints at the entrance.
Regaining freedom, three Hounds sauntered into the dungeon.
"Kinda wild they're not charging us."
"Monster instincts. Imagine being caged all day and suddenly there's a 'home' right there. You think they won't go in?"
Chatting idly, Kim Min-jun waited his turn.
"Haaah… hah…"
"Huff…"
An hour later, Squad 1 staggered out.
Judging by the bite marks and claw gouges on their once-pristine suits, they'd had a rough time.
"Squad 1, good work. Fall back and stand by."
The platoon leader filled out evaluations carefully, based on the supervising soldier's report.
"Next, Squad 2! Move in, now! And let me be clear: if you ask about or leak training details, you're expelled on the spot."
At the threat, the would-be intel fishers flinched and backed off.
"Next!"
Things proceeded smoothly until, at last, it was the turn of Squad 30.
If it was gonna take this long, why'd they make us suit up in advance?
Grumbling inside the airless suit, Kim Min-jun entered the dungeon.
**
Thirty minutes after Squad 30 went in.
Yawning, Kim Min-jun trailed behind his buddies.
He could've just waited at the entrance and deleted the Hounds all at once when they came—but then the others wouldn't get any real training.
No one's as considerate as me.
He'd suffered plenty in another world and come back empowered, but his fellow recruits were different.
They needed to learn as much as possible here.
"Feels like they're about to show."
"Okay, take positions. Plan for up to four."
They claimed terrain that favored fighting Hounds, then moved to their assigned spots.
Kim Min-jun set up in the middle.
He intended to cover all five of his buddies.
"They're coming!"
Moments later—
Three Hounds, drool stringing from their jaws, charged the recruits.
"Don't freeze—just fight! The suits are tough!"
He pumped up the wavering recruits, then drove a fist at the Hound diving deepest.
"Grrr!"
"Oh? You dodged?"
The Hound twisted away from his punch, kicked off the ground, and sprang into the air.
"Wh-what the—!"
"Uh—uh!"
Despite all their pre-briefing, the soldiers hesitated, unsure how to handle the airborne lunge. In real combat, their bodies locked up.
"Where do you think you're going, mutt?"
Kim Min-jun kicked off and leapt, caught the Hound by its hind legs, and smashed it to the floor.
"Yelp!"
"Yelp, my ass. Just die."
Before it could rise, he hammered its torso.
[Black Mage: Basic Punch!]
Thwock!
One hit.
With a single punch, he crushed the Hound's skull.
Holy… so the Red Stone lift wasn't a myth?
He did that in one shot?
Watching from a distance, the instructors could only marvel in silence.