End and Beginning (3)
According to many experts who analyzed the case after his death, the gate Min Hajun cleared right before had poisonous spores floating in the air.
The monster he fought wasn’t a poison-type, and since he didn’t have any visible injuries, no one thought to suspect anything. I heard he felt unwell afterward but assumed it was just fatigue, so he skipped the next gate raid and took a day off. If he had simply rested longer, he probably would have recovered soon enough.
But of all times, a gate suddenly opened right in the middle of a main road — and not just any gate, but a rare growth-type one.
He thought that if he went himself, casualties could be minimized. So, ignoring his worsening condition and without knowing what was truly wrong, he ran straight there.
And just like that, before anyone could react, Korea lost its strongest combat power.
“Can such coincidence even exist?”
There must have been many reasons. Evacuating civilians caught in the chaos, protecting untrained Hunters who rushed in first, and fighting off waves of monsters — none of that would’ve been easy.
But under normal circumstances, Min Hajun would’ve done it all without so much as a scratch.
“They say he even cleared an SS-rank gate alone.”
Normally, it’s impossible to solo a gate ranked higher than your own class. But he did it. They called him a genius in combat — a Hunter who could utilize more than 100% of his potential.
Even so, not even he could clear a dungeon alone while poisoned.
The more mana he used, the faster the spores’ toxin spread. His symptoms must’ve worsened during battle — vision blurring, body slowing down — yet despite enduring to the end, no reinforcements ever came.
And so, in “The Republic I Experienced,” Min Hajun died in vain. People never realized just how great his absence would feel.
He wasn’t just the strongest Awakened; he was also an exceptional leader. I’d heard it so many times it was ringing in my ears. What made it worse was that the Hunters ranked second and third despised each other, so there was no one left to unite them.
In the worst of times, people often said, “If only Min Hajun were still alive…”
Even I — who had never actually met him alive — used to think that if he had survived, things might have ended differently.
“How did you do that?”
A voice broke me out of my thoughts. I looked up — his face was still smeared with blood, but his expression looked much fresher now.
“…It’s my skill,” I replied.
He didn’t ask for details, but he seemed satisfied with that answer alone. Truly polite of him.
“Thank you. I feel so much lighter.”
I just gave a small nod.
My initial goal was accomplished. Ideally, I wanted to leave right now, but abandoning Min Hajun alone in this ominous place felt wrong. Who knew what variables might occur if I left the man who died here behind?
‘Besides, even if I hadn’t come, he would’ve killed that dragon anyway.’
It might’ve been a tough fight, and a few Hunters behind us could’ve died — but still.
That meant the one who killed Min Hajun might not have been that dragon after all.
“You’re going to keep clearing the gate, right?”
“Yes. We have to close it before it grows any larger.”
“I’ll help.”
A hint of awkwardness flashed across his previously calm face.
“I appreciate the offer, but…”
Before he could finish rejecting me, I cut him off.
“I won’t get in your way.”
I wiped the blood off my dagger.
“Behind you!”
I shouted when a monster suddenly approached, but the woman turned and took it down before my words even reached her. Clean and precise — her short hair, loosened from the attack, scattered in the air.
Annoyed by strands falling into her eyes, she roughly brushed her hair back.
‘It’s been a while since I’ve fought this freely.’
Having always fought at the center of raids, it felt odd to have his hands free. He’d always fought with reliable teammates, but this was different. There’s a big gap between “being supported” and “fighting as equals.”
His comrades had always built strategies around him — it had been ages since he’d fought like this, one-on-one.
She wasn’t using any powerful skills or high mana, yet somehow she fought well. So well, in fact, that he could observe her in the middle of battle.
‘She’s minimizing her movements.’
If she lacked stamina or mana, it was the perfect strategy. Her actions were efficient — no wasted motion. And despite fighting for her life, there was no trace of fear or hesitation.
Her attacks were aimed only at vital points, and her evasions were swift and controlled. She didn’t look like a newly awakened Hunter at all.
‘And yet, I’ve never heard of her?’
It didn’t make sense. A fighter of that caliber would’ve stood out, ranking or not.
After watching her tear off a bug-type monster’s wings and decapitate it before landing lightly, Min Hajun finally dismissed his lingering doubts.
He had wanted to ask her many things — how she’d known about his condition, what her strange skill was, and why she’d seemed to be waiting to join this raid.
He’d assumed he was simply under the weather… but apparently, it wasn’t that simple. The treatment he’d received from the guild hadn’t worked, yet now his body felt light as ever.
The sensation from earlier vividly returned to his memory — something foreign stirring within his body, yet not unpleasant.
Warm. Comforting.
‘It felt good.’
Yes, good. Like soft sunlight brushing over his skin.
‘And now, I feel better than ever.’
It wasn’t just recovery — it was beyond that. Since awakening, he’d never felt this clear. Normally, excess mana brought side effects — constant headaches, fatigue from being overly sensitive to sound, and the fear of harming others if he lost focus.
That’s why his private mansion was isolated — temperatures dropping below freezing at night, his nerves always tense.
But now, all that pain and exhaustion were gone. His vision was sharper, his body lighter. So this is what the world felt like before awakening.
“…This is bad,” he murmured.
Because the world felt too pleasant.
After I finished off the last monster, I looked around.
Something didn’t add up. If that was truly the last one, a clear message should’ve appeared — but there was nothing. Was there still something left?
‘Right, there’s no way Min Hajun died to something like this.’
Judging by both the number and rank of monsters so far, this gate was certainly S-rank. The dragon he’d slain at the start had to be S-rank at minimum.
An uneasy stillness hung in the air, like the calm before a storm.
When I turned, Min Hajun still looked composed — leisurely melting the ice he’d created earlier. It wasn’t necessary, but he was doing it anyway.
“Ah, if I leave it, it’ll melt later and make things slippery,” he said when he caught me watching.
Maybe I’d been staring too openly. I quickly looked away and checked my mana reserves. Almost depleted.
“Well, sometimes the clear message takes a bit to show up. Maybe that was the last one,” he said casually, stepping closer without me noticing. I flinched — I hadn’t sensed him approach at all — and looked up to find him smiling brightly, eyes curving gently.
‘He really is something else.’
We’d cleared the gate with just the two of us, after evacuating everyone else. The fact that I was still unscathed was largely thanks to him.
Despite handling a ridiculous number of monsters, he had always been there at the right time — shards of ice flying past to cover me whenever things got dangerous.
As he’d said, the area was now a mix of melted ice, blood, and mud. My shoes were ruined — so were my clothes. Even if we made it out safely, there was no way I’d return unnoticed in this state.
While I was glancing down at myself, Min Hajun looked like he was hesitating to say something — and then,
BOOM!
A thunderous sound erupted from nearby — from a completely different direction than before.
Reacting instantly, Min Hajun conjured an ice spear and twirled it lightly.
“Guess that was too optimistic of us,” he said.
“Seems so,” I replied calmly.
He gave me a sideways look.
“Did you… know this would happen?”
“No. I’m just used to worst-case scenarios.”
The first half was a lie. The second, truth. The best lies are those mixed with honesty.
“You look young, but… well, I suppose in times like these, hardship doesn’t care about age.”
Whatever he was thinking, I didn’t bother to answer.
He nodded to himself as if convinced, then turned away.
“I’ll go alone. Wait here.”
“…No. I’m coming with you. If you die, I’m dead too.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t go down that easily.”
Like hell I’ll let you go alone after coming this far.
Without a word, I started walking first. Thankfully, he didn’t try to stop me — just followed, still trying to talk me out of it a few times before giving up and matching my pace.
It wasn’t far, but even during that short walk, he kept talking.
“I’m really not someone who loses easily, you know.”
“…”
“It’s been ages since I got hurt…”
“…”
“Of course, it’s probably more convincing to see for yourself—”
I thought to myself that he was way more talkative than I’d expected. Rumors really couldn’t be trusted — especially those surrounding the so-called ‘S-rank Hunter who died protecting everyone.’
I’d assumed Min Hajun was stoic, cool, righteous, strong — every admirable adjective imaginable.
“Ah, looks like we’re here.”
After a few more minutes of walking, an enormous structure came into view.
“…A pyramid?”
