After Jeong Daon burst out of the office, silence hung in the room. It felt as though a storm had just swept through.
“Is she seriously out of her mind?”
After a short while, whispers like that began to spread among the rookies huddled together.
“Wow, so the rumors online were true.”
“I should’ve known after seeing that auditorium video.”
“The way she acts is crazy, but her personality seems even crazier…”
“They say all S-rank Hunters are unhinged, guess that’s true?”
“What if we end up in the same training camp? Our whole batch will get wiped out.”
"Quiet."
Han Jaeyeong silenced the rookies. It wasn’t that they couldn’t understand how the others felt, but this wasn’t something to whisper about in front of someone facing the possibility of losing a child.
Han Jaeyeong cast a glance at the staff member who looked on the verge of collapse.
It might actually be better to knock her out.
In truth, the chances of Jeong Daon successfully rescuing the child were extremely slim. That didn’t mean Han Jaeyeong denied Jeong Daon’s talent. Anyone who said that after watching the video that had shaken South Korea just two days ago had no right to call themselves a mage. Still, no matter how much of a genius she was, charging barehanded into a fight against C-rank monsters while unable to use her mana circuits was reckless by any standard.
To begin with, mages weren’t particularly suited for combat. Of course, mages who wielded elements inherently lethal to living beings, like lightning, as Jeong Daon had shown in the video two days ago, could be used more effectively in battle. Even so, fundamentally, magic involved manipulating mana through sheer mental strength, drawing magic circles, and rewriting the laws of the world. That was far removed from combat, which demanded instant judgment and quick reflexes. That was why, no matter how high their stats were, mages almost never cleared dungeons solo. For a mage to fight, a tank who could buy time until the spell was cast was essential.
But Jeong Daon had nothing right now, so it was practically a suicide mission. And yet, there was only one reason Han Jaeyeong hadn’t tried harder to stop her.
She’s way too stubborn. Well… it’s the age when self-importance runs high.
Trying to stop her further would only sour emotions without actually stopping Jeong Daon, and Han Jaeyeong didn’t want to waste time or energy on that. Besides, this wasn’t the first time they had seen someone like Jeong Daon.
After becoming adults, plenty of Hunters were unable to restrain the surge of justice and sense of duty that made them feel like heroes straight out of a movie. That tendency was especially strong in Hunters with S-rank–level talent. There was an illusion that everything would bend to their will and the exhilaration of being freed from a society where violence had once been forbidden.
But most of them eventually learned a single truth, just as Han Jaeyeong had, that no matter how talented you were, the world wasn’t something you could push through on talent alone.
Not everyone could become a hero like Yu Hanul.
I’ll have to watch the timing and pull her out.
It would still take some time for their mana circuits, left in shambles by the item developed by that damn woman Estella, to recover, but fortunately, Han Jaeyeong had a few attack magic scrolls on hand. They were still in the testing phase and not powerful enough to carve a path all the way to the daycare on the second floor, but they should be enough to retrieve Jeong Daon, who had run out without thinking. It wasn’t like she could have gone very far anyway.
But then—
…What?
Han Jaeyeong had expected that since Jeong Daon had rushed out unarmed, she would slow down out of fear once she actually encountered monsters. Even though Yu Hanul had cleared part of the way, the corridor was already littered with corpses, both of people killed by monsters and the monsters themselves. It was difficult to advance through such a place with a sound mind.
But Jeong Daon, as seen on the screen, showed no hesitation at all.
“Wow… she’s fearless.” Someone clicked their tongue as Jeong Daon stepped over the scattered remains of monsters without batting an eye.
As that comment suggested, Jeong Daon’s demeanor as she passed through the horrific scene looked unnaturally calm.
“H-hey? She’s really fast.”
“At this rate, is she actually going to break through?”
And they were right. Jeong Daon was advancing far faster than expected. She had already disappeared from the hallway CCTV feed, and now Jeong Daon was visible on the emergency stairwell camera instead.
Staring blankly at the screen in shock, Han Jaeyeong finally snapped back to their senses.
Should I rush out there even now?
They had come to protect an S-rank talent who might be targeted by other countries or major guilds, yet out of annoyance they hadn’t stopped her, and now it looked like it might lead to an even bigger disaster. Injury would be one thing, but if she really died, dealing with the aftermath would be impossible. Setting aside the tangible losses Korea would suffer or the beating they’d take from the media, Yu Hanul might genuinely kill them.
“Wh-what is that? Is she going to die like that?”
“Why did she suddenly stop moving?”
“She got all the way there and froze up, didn’t she?!”
"She ran out acting all tough, and now look at her.”
They were right. Just moments ago, Jeong Daon had been striding forward, but now on the screen she was simply standing still while monsters tore at her body.
Clatter. Something fell to the floor. It was the knife Han Jaeyeong had handed over.
To anyone watching, it was the helpless sight of someone frozen in panic, unable to move in the face of a sudden crisis.
“H-hey! She’s really going to die, what do we do?”
“What do you mean, what do we do? She ran out even when we tried to stop her…!”
“S-still! Hunter Han Jaeyeong, Jeong Daon—!”
The rookie Hunters, flustered, called out to Han Jaeyeong, but they didn’t answer. More precisely, they couldn’t.
…What is this? Han Jaeyeong stared at the scene on the screen as if entranced.
Anyone would judge it as a novice Hunter panicking under a sudden monster attack, frozen in place. And yet, Han Jaeyeong’s keen instincts told a different story.
Jeong Daon had awakened only two days ago, there was no doubt about that, but this didn’t look like someone trembling in fear… It looked like a predator crouched low, preparing to leap, waiting for the right moment.
And then— Rumble! The building shook.
Han Jaeyeong narrowed their eyes. Don’t tell me there’s an earthquake on top of a Dungeon Break?
No.
Crash!
“Aaagh!”
“Duck, duck!”
Every window attached to the building shattered at once, unable to withstand the sudden gale. Involuntary screams erupted from all around the building.
“What the hell is this? Did a new monster appear?”
“No way! You’re telling me this can get even worse?!”
“Help!”
It was complete chaos. And listening to the screams of the rookies, who had no grasp of what was happening, Han Jaeyeong let out a hollow laugh.
“Hah… hah… what is this…?”
It wasn’t the appearance of a new monster, and it wasn’t an earthquake. Quite simply, the mana in the surrounding area was surging violently, like a typhoon. And as a mage, Han Jaeyeong knew exactly when such a phenomenon occurred: the world’s laws were being forcibly rewritten by the terrifyingly persistent will of a mage. Every mage in the building would have felt this grotesquely immense flow of mana.
And that was precisely why it was so absurd.
How is this even possible?
If it were a great mage who had spent decades studying magic, that would be one thing. But a Hunter who had awakened just a few days ago showing this level of mana control and in a situation where she’d inhaled smoke and couldn’t even use her mana circuits?
This should be impossible!
If it were merely a matter of using a basic spell from the system-provided tutorial with ridiculous firepower, then no matter how unbelievable it seemed, it could be brushed off with the phrase “a once-in-a-century genius.” But this kind of spell, an incantation magic not provided by the system, was different.
Magic was a form of scholarship, and that was even more true for original magic. Creating a single new spell required immense time and theory. A spell that a mage who had only just awakened could not possibly use.
It was something completely beyond common sense. And yet, wasn’t it happening right before their eyes?
All the mana in the area was being drawn toward a single point as though answering the call of the master it had searched for over a long, long time. And Han Jaeyeong, too, watched that sight, watched that flow, as if spellbound. Along with the numb disbelief of witnessing something impossible, a sense of awe washed over them.
And only then did they realize the Jeong Daon would do exactly as she had said—
She would save the children.
The greatest advantage of the incantation magic I created is that, unlike most magic, it isn’t confined to any particular element or school; it amplifies mana itself. Like all magic, it isn’t without drawbacks, but for someone like me, whose usable mana is currently limited, it’s the most suitable spell there is. Instead of relying on my still-fragile, untrained mana circuits and body, I drew in mana by putting the rank of my soul up as collateral. All that remained was to control the mana I had gathered in this way.
The abnormally dense mana writhed, constantly probing for an opening, trying to reject my control, but control and suppression are my specialties.
The laws of the world may be nature itself, but haven’t humans, since time immemorial, survived by devouring and breaking that very nature?
Rumble!
Mana gathered around me and surged like a whirlwind, sweeping away the shadow ghosts that had just sensed danger and were about to scatter. Like ash blown before the wind, the shadow ghosts were torn apart by the high-density mana typhoon. Wiping out the monsters that had gathered in the emergency stairwell took only an instant.
Splat! Monster flesh and fluids sprayed in all directions. Now, the only living being left in the emergency passage was me.
What am I even doing…
My head throbbed. Trying to command an excessive amount of mana with a still-weak body naturally caused my mana circuits to overheat.
But the results weren’t bad.
They were torn apart beyond recognition, so I couldn’t count them precisely, but it felt like I’d killed well over thirty monsters…
User “Jeong Daon” has achieved an astounding feat!
32 “Shadow Ghosts” have been slaughtered.
This achievement will be reflected in future quest results.
Thanks for the helpful headcount.
Honestly, once I’d gone as far as using incantation magic, this outcome was expected. The real concern was the condition of my body.
My mana circuits didn’t rupture…?
That was unexpected.
Carefully extending my mana to check, I found that aside from the physical pain, the state of my mana circuits was genuinely not bad. In fact, I’d braced myself for the possibility of not being able to use magic for at least a month afterward, but Jeong Daon’s body had endured this reckless act better than I’d anticipated.
No, if anything… my mana circuits feel wider? Could it be that this so-called latent S-rank talent isn’t because of my soul at all, but something Jeong Daon’s body truly possesses?
For the past twenty years, I’d avoided using mana altogether to keep the system from noticing me, so I’d never really considered the innate talent of “Jeong Daon”’s body. Compared to the mana circuits of my previous body, of course it fell short, but that was only because my talent in my past life had been absurdly beyond reach. This was unexplored territory, something to investigate from here on out.
I stepped down the stairs, my feet splashing through the monsters’ fluids. Descending stairs without monsters interfering was almost laughably easy.
I soon reached the floor where the daycare was located. The monsters that had been loitering in the hallway, as seen on the cameras, were now sprawled everywhere, taken out by the aftereffects of the spell.
Slide!
When I opened the daycare’s sliding door, the startled teacher was the first to look up.
“G-gasp… r-rescue team…?”
“I did come to rescue you.”
Snap!
Answering briefly, I first pulled aside the curtains that had been blocking the light. The remaining afternoon sunlight poured into the darkened daycare. It was bright enough to make my eyes sting.
The children, huddled together in the corner, lifted their heads.
“Big Sister, are you with the rescue team?”
Before I could even finish answering, the teacher, apparently reassured, spoke in a nasal, trembling voice, on the verge of tears. “Yeah, kids. It’s all right now. Everyone, you should say thank you to the rescue Hunter, okay?”
“This big sister is a hero!”
“Woooow! So cool!”
“No, I’m not…”
Seeing the children approach with such innocent voices left me at a loss. I wasn’t a hero, and I wasn’t even part of the rescue team. If I were being honest, I wanted to tell them that in a past life, I’d been an enemy of humanity who destroyed an entire world…
The system entrusts the judgment of “Jeong Daon”’s behavior suitability to members of society.
Deriving results…
A majority of society judges “Jeong Daon”’s actions to be just.
Quest “Doing Good Deeds Will Bring Blessings¿” completed. “Jeong Daon”’s ability restrictions have been weakened.
“…”
Honestly.
A hollow laugh escaped me.
Anyone watching would think I really was some righteous hero.