"The half-demon race — a race that resembles humans in appearance yet inherits the power of ancient demons.
Millions of years ago, during the mythological age, the world was steeped in chaos. Every race waged war against one another, all craving power.
Elves, dwarves, demons, dragons, giants, monsters, spirits, fairies, vampires, and finally, humans.
Countless wars erupted. Each race's ultimate goal was to dominate the world and become king. Yet these meaningless wars only led them to consume one another. As a result, their populations dwindled to the brink of extinction, and humans—who gained strength through sheer numbers—rose to the throne—"
"Blah blah blah…"
"Hey! Why are you interrupting me?!"
Olivia shouted at the top of her lungs. Her light green hair perfectly matched her cheerful personality.
As always, she wanted to tell legends to the newly arrived rookies, but she was interrupted by an annoying friend she disliked.
"What do you gain by telling these legends? There's no proof any of this is real anyway."
Interrupted mid-sentence, Olivia puffed out her cheeks and glared angrily at Sylvia.
Sylvia pushed her glasses up with her thumb and continued transferring the files in her hands to the computer. The early morning light made her purple hair shine even more, accentuating the jumpsuit she wore.
"Why does nobody ever listen to me?!"
As Olivia continued to whine, the office door was suddenly kicked open violently, and a young man covered in blood walked in.
He wore an entirely black uniform, a gray belt around his waist, and weapon holsters strapped to his legs. His mouth was hidden behind a black mask, and the long, curved spear he carried had a platinum-golden shaft completely stained red with blood.
His hair was black like the night, and his eyes were a dark green, as if they contained all the darkness in the world. Anyone who saw him might have thought he had just stepped out of a funeral.
"H-Hey—Michael! Didn't anyone tell you to be a little gentler?!"
Olivia complained angrily about Michael's entrance. She herself was a hunter, but she always took care not to get blood on her. Clearly, she was supposed to be an example for Michael (aside from her excessive talking).
Michael brushed aside Olivia's pointing fingers and ignored the shocked expressions of the other hunters as he headed toward his room on the fourth floor.
"Looks like he's in a bad mood again today."
Sylvia muttered quietly, unaware that Michael—who possessed extraordinary hearing as a hunter—had heard her.
"Damn it!"
Michael threw his curved blade straight into the bathtub to be washed and began stripping off his bloodstained clothes.
I got too close again…
He sighed and stepped directly into the shower, washing the blood from his body.
He had received intelligence about the appearance of a new half-demon. When he arrived at the scene, the family had already been slaughtered—used to fuel the half-demon's growing power.
When Michael caught the demon, instead of killing it outright, he subjected it to merciless torture—cruelty beyond what anyone could imagine.
One part of him was glad he had caught the demon; another part continued to harbor hatred because he still hadn't found the demon who murdered his own family. He vented all his rage on the one he had captured.
The sorcerer race was the second most widespread race in the world after humans. Born from the union of demons and humans, they were a long-lived, savage race imbued with magical substances—and in Michael's eyes, nothing more than monsters.
He lay down on his bed and opened the hunter application on his phone. Instead of logging in as a civilian, he logged in as a hunter, as he possessed a special hunter ID.
He glared angrily at the red dots displayed on the map—each marking a murder scene. As he examined the location he had just visited, his phone suddenly rang with a call from a private number.
He answered cautiously.
"Hello, who is this?"
Michael had a rough idea of who it might be, but he believed it was best to stay careful.
<
The terrifying grin that formed on Michael's face was impossible to miss. Anyone who saw it would think twice about who the real demon was.
"Alright. I'll take the job myself."
After hanging up, a message detailing the mission arrived directly in his hunter inbox. He opened it.
[Dear Michael Crimson,
For the past two months, we have detected traces of a half-demon at the prestigious Ashen Cross College.
Due to the disappearance of rookie and mid-level hunters sent to investigate, we believe a high-level hunter such as yourself must intervene.
Further details will be provided once you enter the school undercover as a student.
Respectfully,
Director Black]
Michael clicked his tongue. He wanted to kill the demon outright, but it seemed he would have to engage in the one thing he hated most—investigation—to uncover that deceitful creature.
Especially if the demon was hiding among the students, he would need to disguise himself as one as well.
The next day, Michael stared at his reflection after putting on the uniform.
The uniform was dark-colored—simple yet serious. It fit his body perfectly, giving him a disciplined appearance. The school emblem on his chest was small but eye-catching. The fabric was slightly stiff, as if designed not only for classes but for harsher situations as well. It felt deliberately tailored for a hunter infiltrating the school under a hidden agenda.
He checked the time. School hours were approaching, but he had no need to worry about registration—his fake identity was already perfectly prepared.
As he walked through the school corridors, he could feel many students staring at him. Pretending not to notice, he kept his posture straight.
"Isn't that the new student? He's so handsome!"
"He's dressed so simply, yet he's still glowing!"
Male and female students whispered behind his back, talking about how striking he looked. Although Michael was actually 21 years old, his forged identity listed him as 17. His youthful face erased all evidence of adulthood.
His first task was to head straight to class and report his arrival. As he turned a corner in the hallway, he collided with a small figure and staggered slightly backward.
The stack of paper folders the small figure was holding scattered into the air, some sticking awkwardly to the girl's body as they fell.
She dropped to her knees, rubbing her aching forehead. It seemed she realized the mess only moments later, as she hurriedly began gathering the papers.
Michael stared at her, astonished at how such a small figure could carry such massive folders with such thin arms. But that wasn't the only striking thing about her.
Her hair, tinted like midnight blue, fell to her shoulders—almost black in the dark, but revealing a deep navy hue when light struck it.
Her red eyes became immediately noticeable when her bangs shifted aside, lending her gaze a sharp yet mysterious expression.
Though her height of 155 centimeters made her look fragile, her posture carried an unexpected confidence. Despite her slender build, her presence was quiet yet impactful—the kind that didn't disappear even in a crowd.
Michael looked down at the blue-haired girl near his feet, visibly shocked—not because of her beauty, but because as a hunter with extraordinary senses, he hadn't felt her presence at all until they collided.
The girl quickly gathered the documents, looking extremely tense, seemingly unaware of Michael's presence.
Michael hid his unease, helped collect the scattered papers, and handed them to her.
"You should be more careful next time."
The girl looked up at Michael in surprise, blinking. She seemed a little embarrassed, and her behavior matched her appearance—making her even more endearing.
"T-thank you!"
She nodded vigorously, stood up, and hurried away. Michael clenched his now-empty hand. If she really were a half-demon, he would have sensed it the moment they made contact—but he felt nothing.
"Could this really just be what they call a coincidence?"
He didn't believe in coincidences, so he immediately dismissed the thought and headed toward his classroom.
Since it was only the first week of the second term, he thought he wouldn't attract much attention. That thought alone was a grave mistake—nearly the entire class had gathered around his desk in a circle.
Michael cursed internally. If the mission was going to be this roundabout, he would've preferred assigning it to someone else—like that famous mysterious detective featured in the newspapers.
Ignoring the girls who stared at him like prey, he headed down to the library.
He softened his footsteps and minimized his presence. Aside from his striking appearance, he was nearly ghost-like.
As soon as he entered the library, his eyes were drawn to the red liquid pooling on the floor.
Demons!
He followed the trail of blood and reached the storage room. The sight was horrific.
A male corpse was pinned against the wall in a crouched position. His hair was light brown, his eyes wide open—yet the light within them was long gone, the clearest sign of death. His intestines were strewn out like ribbons, some torn away and eaten. His organs were paler than normal, shriveled inward.
If an ordinary student had witnessed such a scene, they would have fainted instantly—but Michael was not an ordinary student.
He rushed to the body and realized the blood hadn't dried yet. The death was recent. He bit his lip in frustration.
How did this slip past me?
Blaming himself for being late, Michael stood up and dialed the office—just as—
"I found the killer!"
A voice shouted behind him with full force, echoing through the school.
Michael reflexively turned around, raising his hands when four strips of chains shot forward and wrapped tightly around him.
"Wait-"
Before he could finish, a blow struck his head, forcing a groan of pain from him.
A red-eyed girl with light pink hair stood there, holding a book and glaring at him furiously.
"Demon, get lost!"
Another blonde female student rushed toward him with short knives and stabbed his hands as he tried to free himself from the chains.
"Hey, wait a second!"
As he tried to kick the pink-haired girl away, a burly male student slammed him into the corner. Michael cursed internally.
"Augh!"
He coughed up blood but didn't care. Releasing all restraint, Michael spread spiritual energy throughout his body, exploding outward like a sphere of light.
The chains were obliterated by the overwhelming force and heat, and the students were thrown violently against the walls.
Bookshelves shattered into dust. The corpse on the floor remained untouched—Michael had ensured it wasn't harmed, maintaining full control.
Michael admired the teamwork of the four students. If he hadn't been able to use spiritual energy, he might have already been captured.
"D-Demon!"
Michael turned toward the voice and noticed the pointed ears of the blonde girl who had thrown knives at him.
"An elf?"
He pulled the knives from his hands and tied his tie around the wounds.
Grabbing the tie of another male student slumped against the wall, he bound his other hand.
"This should do for now."
The elf girl coughed up blood, yet continued to glare at Michael with deep hatred. Accustomed to such situations, Michael approached her and crouched down, meeting her gaze.
His emerald green eyes scanned the elf's light blue ones. Beneath the endless hatred, he sensed a deeply buried sorrow.
"Why did you attack me?"
The elf girl didn't answer and reached into her pocket for another knife but Michael wasn't kind enough to allow that. He grabbed her moving hand and pinned it down with his foot.
That's when he noticed the ID card attached to her uniform.
[Ellie – Student Council President]
"Isn't it obvious? You're a demon and you needed to die."
Ellie's hoarse voice showed how badly her throat was injured.
"I'm not a demon. I'm just a victim."
"Oh? So now you're playing the victim student role? Then what was that mana explosion earlier?"
Michael sighed. Mana was the opposite of spiritual energy, and the two were often confused due to their similar appearance.
"What I used earlier was spiritual energy. I usually use it as a weapon against demons. Since you refused to listen, I had no choice but to use it."