Screeeech!!
The jeep skidded across all four lanes and only came to a halt after slamming into the guardrail.
Morae and Songiya, who had been clutching each other tightly, cautiously raised their heads.
“…Wh-What just happened? What was that?”
“Let’s get out first. What if the car explodes?”
“Is your door working? Mine’s completely stuck.”
“Ugh, mine too. Let’s go out the front window.”
They climbed out through the shattered front windshield, and the scene outside was chaos.
Debris from the vehicle was scattered across the road, and white smoke was rising from the hood of the jeep.
It was a blessing this was a deserted mountain road. Had this happened in the city, it would’ve been a major disaster.
Yet, not a scratch was on either of them—thanks to Songiya’s quick deployment of a barrier the moment the crash occurred.
“Damn, it’s totaled.”
Songiya rubbed her forehead as she stared at the crushed jeep.
While she stood there in disbelief, Morae pulled the warning triangle out of the half-open trunk and set it up around the scene.
The heat was oppressive, causing sweat to drip just from standing still. Morae grabbed Songiya’s hand and led her toward the shaded roadside. It felt slightly better under the trees.
“Songiya, should we call the insurance company?”
“This is so messed up. What the hell did we hit?”
“I don’t know. Was it a wild animal?”
“Even a collision with an elephant wouldn’t look this bad. And there’s no blood anywhere.”
Both of them knew—it wasn’t a wild animal. Songiya took out her phone.
“Hold on. I’ll call insurance.”
She let out a deep sigh as she connected the call.
Would they even believe a crash caused by some unknown object on an empty road? There were no CCTV cameras either—no proof.
Morae’s eyes dimmed with guilt.
This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for her. Songiya wouldn’t even be here.
The jeep was dead.
Even someone like Morae, who knew next to nothing about cars, could see that.
If she had the money, she’d help buy a new one—but her income barely covered basic living expenses. Not that Songiya would accept it anyway.
Just as she bowed her head, lost in thoughts of her bank balance—
Grrrrrrr.
A strange noise echoed from somewhere nearby.
It sounded like a beast growling. Then came the sharp scent of blood—thicker and more acrid than human blood.
There was only one kind of creature that gave off that smell.
Morae instinctively grabbed Songiya’s hand.
Songiya, in the middle of her call, raised her eyebrows in confusion. Morae signaled with a finger to her lips, then pointed forward with her chin.
“….”
Sensing something serious, Songiya silently ended the call.
An ominous stillness settled around them. Cold sweat trickled from Morae’s temple, down to the tip of her chin. Then the sound came again.
Grhhh…
This time Songiya clearly heard it. She reflexively tightened her grip on Morae’s hand.
At that moment, from beyond the guardrail, something black slowly emerged from the dense forest.
Morae’s brown eyes widened in horror.
“What?”
She had assumed it was a creature that escaped from a dungeon—but no.
The figure was clearly human, though drenched in dark blue slime.
And all too familiar.
With a trembling voice, Morae whispered, “S-S-Songiya… isn’t that… isn’t that Kyeon Su-ho Hunter?”
“What are you— Wait… Oh my god!”
Songiya gasped.
Even with his face soaked in black-blue creature blood and covered in dark veins, there was no mistaking Kyeon Su-ho’s striking features.
“It is him! Why the hell is he here and not in the dungeon?!”
“M-More importantly, his device… it’s glowing red, right? N-No, I must’ve imagined it?”
“…Code Red? Shit!”
All awakened beings are issued a watch-like device by the Ability Management Bureau upon registration.
Among its many features, the most crucial is monitoring the user’s berserk level.
Kyeon Su-ho’s device was glowing bright red—Code Red. Just one step away from losing control.
If he entered full berserk mode, the device would soon emit a massive alarm.
Songiya’s face turned ghostly pale.
“They just said in a press conference he was fine!”
“I—I’m sure they did…”
Whether that announcement was true didn’t matter now.
If Kyeon Su-ho lost control, it wasn’t just a city—it was the entire nation at risk. He couldn’t be berserking… right?
Songiya swallowed hard.
“M-MoraeMorae… what do we do?”
“I-I don’t think he’s noticed us yet. I-I’ll send an emergency alert to the Bureau.”
“Q-Quick, d-do something!”
Morae tapped her device.
Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. As pre-set, it transmitted an SOS to the Ability Management Bureau. Now it was a race against time.
“I sent it,” she whispered.
“N-Now what? Should we hide behind the car?”
“…No, I don’t think we should move.”
“R-Really? Then we just stay like this?”
They were four lanes away from Kyeon Su-ho and hidden in the shade.
As long as they stayed quiet, he wouldn’t notice them—or so they hoped.
Clutching each other’s hands, they slowly stepped deeper into the shadow.
Then—
Bzzzz, BZZZZZ.
Songiya’s phone vibrated. The insurance company was calling back, trying to finish their interrupted conversation.
In the silence of the forest, the vibration sounded deafening.
“Aaaagh…!”
She fumbled to reject the call, but it was too late.
The man’s head, laced with black veins, tilted toward them. And then he smiled.
Like a beast.
That’s what Morae thought—right before Kyeon Su-ho’s body launched like a bullet.
“Move!”
Songiya cursed and shoved Morae with all her strength. She braced herself, feet planted firmly, arms raised.
FLASH!
A large, milky-white semicircle barrier formed around her.
But it was no match.
In a blink, Kyeon Su-ho crossed four lanes and slashed the barrier.
BOOM!
With a single swipe, the C-rank barrier shattered like glass. Songiya was thrown backward by the sheer force.
“Urgh!”
“Songiya!”
Morae screamed and rushed to her side. As Songiya tried to rise, she coughed up a mouthful of blood and collapsed.
“Cough! Cough!”
“Songiya, Songiya! Stay with me!”
While Morae supported her unconscious friend, Kyeon Su-ho slowly approached—calm and predatory.
Morae gritted her teeth and shielded Songiya with her body.
She was awakened too, after all. Maybe she could block one attack.
“…?”
But the attack didn’t come.
Curious, Morae glanced up—and froze.
Kyeon Su-ho’s face was contorted in agony as he gripped his head. From his neck, a rough voice scraped out:
“…Get… lost…”
“…!”
He was speaking. That meant he still had his sanity—somewhere in there.
He hadn’t even been given a stabilizer. How was he resisting the berserk state?
Morae couldn’t even imagine what kind of pain he must be enduring.
“If I can calm him down, we might survive.”
She stood up and stepped forward.
“K-Kyeon Su-ho Hunter, can you hear my voice?”
He didn’t move.
His back, dense with muscle, looked as broad as a field.
So… so scary…
