IDSTD 05

Chapter 5…

S-Rank Hunter (2)

To Jungwoo, this was an incident from eight years ago in his memories; in the current timeline, it would happen two years from now. Back then, a massive scandal shook the Korean Hunter industry to its core, forcing a complete overhaul of its organizational structure.

It all started with a whistleblowing post from a public Hunter:

[Don’t become an Administration Bureau Hunter. The corruption here goes to the bone.]

Public Hunters had always been plagued by issues of systemic corruption. The Bureau was an institution that had existed since the final day of 1999—the day the Gates first erupted and the world’s very first Hunters awakened.

Back then, humanity was locked in an existential war for survival, making it necessary to establish an organization with a strict, military-like hierarchy. The problem arose when this same structure persisted long after the world had stabilized.

It wasn’t a matter of money. While public Hunters certainly earned less than corporate ones, the social prestige attached to the job still guaranteed salaries on par with major conglomerates. Besides, public Hunters chose this path out of a sense of duty; those who joined had already made peace with taking a financial hit.

However, because they were the type of people willing to make those sacrifices, there was one thing they simply couldn’t tolerate.

The real issue was the First-Generation Hunters who wormed their way into politics.

An era of peace arrived. In other words, the figures who had built their size and fame out of sheer necessity no longer had much of a role to play.

While peace was a good thing, life felt dull to those drunk on the power and glory of being heroes. Unable to climb any higher on prestige alone, a few First-Gen Hunters grew greedy. They jumped straight into politics, hungering for real power.

That was the seed of corruption within the Bureau.

It stopped being an institution people joined out of a duty to sacrifice. It became a stepping stone into politics.

Factions formed internally. The title of “Hunter-turned-politician” hardened into a cartel, igniting fierce factional warfare within the Bureau itself.

And that’s how organizational culture works: once a massive wave takes over, individuals have no choice but to get swept up in the current.

Rookie Hunters who had grown up admiring the heroes who shone brightest during the war were forced to face the Bureau’s dirty power plays head-on. Some blended into the toxic culture, some left in utter disgust, and others broke down while struggling to change the system from within. The whistleblower was one of those who fought until the end.

Jungwoo still remembered how relentlessly that young whistleblower had been attacked for exposing the truth, and how many sacrifices it ultimately took to prove those allegations and dismantle the Bureau.

What Jungwoo was facing right now was the very breeding ground of that corruption.

“I’ll get straight to the point. The nation needs your power, Hunter Shin Jungwoo. Everyone speaks of an era of peace, but the threat of the Gates hasn’t truly disappeared from the world. The reality is that an incident like today’s could happen anywhere, at any time.”

Kim Shinwook, Director of the Nowon-gu Administration Bureau, spoke with a stern face.

“I cannot promise you endless wealth and glory. But I appeal to your conscience and sense of duty—will you not use that power for the public good?”

He slid a contract across the table. Jungwoo looked at his face. The Director wore an expression of resolute determination, as if acting entirely out of justice and calling, but realistically speaking, it was nothing more than a hollow mask.

It’s just that kind of era.

You couldn’t reach the rank of Bureau Director in a Seoul sector with clean hands. It was an age where every single achievement was tied to filthy behind-the-scenes dealings. It didn’t take much effort to realize this man was no different.

Jungwoo glanced down at the contract. Everything had happened so fast that he was still processing it all. But that didn’t mean he was going to let himself get swept up in the moment and make a foolish choice.

Jungwoo gently stroked the back of Segi, who was beginning to doze off in his arms. The weight in his embrace represented everything he had to carry.

Accept the regression. Accept the changes. Knowing all this, what decision should he make? What kind of father did he need to be?

As he pondered, an answer echoed in his mind.

—Are you a hero~? Did you save Segi~?

At the very least, Segi didn’t need a father who compromised his values and dirtied his hands in a greedy pursuit of power. One lifetime of regrets was more than enough.

“Thank you for the offer,” Jungwoo replied with a warm, gentle smile. “However, I must decline.”

Kim Shinwook, Director of the Nowon-gu Hunter Administration Bureau, could tell instantly: a twenty-three-year-old single father, an orphan, a clueless kid who just happened to hit the jackpot and awaken as an S-Rank Hunter today—none of those labels accurately described the man sitting in front of him.

What is up with this guy?

Up until he walked into this room, Shinwook had been riding high on his dreams. After all, South Korea’s first natural-born S-Rank Hunter had just emerged right in his assigned sector.

Successfully scout him, build a tight relationship, lay a trap so he could never leave, and use that leverage to solidify his own standing in the political party—it was still a rough plan, but with a little fine-tuning, it was a stroke of absolute luck ready to be claimed.

Yet, the longer the conversation went on, the more he realized how dead wrong he was.

“Won’t you reconsider just once? The nation—” “I don’t think this is a decision to be rushed. Honestly, the fact that I’m an S-Rank Hunter hasn’t even fully set in yet.” “That’s completely understandable. But that is precisely why I want to stress how desperately your power is needed. First of all—” “It’s far too late at night to make such a sudden, monumental decision.”

Jungwoo deflected every uncomfortable topic with a smooth, pleasant tone. Whenever Shinwook tried to steer the topic by force, an unspoken pressure pushed right back.

This was no ordinary kid. He couldn’t be bullied by authority, status, or high-pressure situations. The sheer composure Jungwoo displayed made no sense for a fresh awaken.

Anxiety began to creep into Shinwook’s chest. Masking it as best as he could, he parted his lips.

“Of course, your abilities are S-Rank—a natural-born S-Rank, no less. With power like that, you can achieve anything you desire. But! If I may be so bold, there are values in this world far more important than wealth and glory. The peaceful society we enjoy today was built by previous generations of heroes who sacrificed themselves for those very values!”

Eloquent speech and a convincing mask were the greatest weapons that had elevated Shinwook—a mere B-Rank Hunter—to the position of Director. He knew exactly what topics and phrasing to use to sway people. He knew how to wrap his true motives in beautiful, noble packaging.

“The entire nation… no, the entire world is watching your choice, Hunter Shin Jungwoo. As someone destined to define a new era, the choice you make today could reshape the very values of our time.”

The world craved heroes. The public was obsessed with heroism. Knowing that everyone was susceptible to this narrative, Shinwook sought to crush this young man under the weight of what he now held in his hands.

So, Shinwook wore his mask, hiding the calculating ambition beneath his tongue. He wanted Jungwoo to feel overwhelmed by that burden, to feel as though this single choice was everything.

Then, he pushed one step further.

“We do not ask for unconditional sacrifice. While I cannot promise staggering sums of money, I assure you that our Bureau will mobilize all its resources to offer you national prestige and treatment that no private corporation could ever match.”

He slathered sweet honey over the heavy burden of responsibility.

However, there was one crucial thing he had overlooked.

“I’m sorry, but I must decline.”

Jungwoo was far from a naive fool. Having sacrificed his entire youth out of sheer responsibility to raise his daughter, his worldview was vastly broader than that of his peers. More importantly, Jungwoo had no desire to play the hero for the world.

“Hearing you say all that only makes me feel that this isn’t something I should decide on the spot.”

Jungwoo adjusted his hold on Segi, who had fallen into a peaceful sleep. He gazed at her as if she were the most precious treasure in the universe.

“You see, I just want to be a good dad to my daughter.” “Then all the more reason to do it for her—!” “That’s enough.”

Freeze.

The words caught in Shinwook’s throat. A cold chill ran straight down his spine. He stared at Jungwoo, his eyes trembling.

The soft arc of Jungwoo’s smile faded. The look in his eyes held no outward hostility, yet it pressed down on Shinwook with an unfeeling, almost terrifying air of superiority.

“Using my daughter as leverage isn’t your place, Director.”

It was his first explicit refusal—and a stark warning. Shinwook caught the underlying threat instantly.

How dare this young punk… this absolute nobody…

Yet the words wouldn’t leave his mouth.

It was the worst-case scenario. This twenty-three-year-old single dad already knew that the heavy burden on his shoulders was actually a crown—and he was already using it to his advantage.

Shinwook’s lips quivered. He realized too late that his back was drenched in cold sweat. Gritting his teeth in secret, he barely managed to put his mask of polite regret back on and forced a smile.

“…My apologies. I crossed the line.”

Jungwoo replied with a warm, easygoing smile.

“Thank you for understanding.”

And with that, the conversation was over.

Jungwoo stepped out of the Administration Bureau. The moment he crossed the main entrance, he was greeted by a massive crowd under the pitch-black night sky, staring at him amidst a sea of artificial lights.

Should I be happy to see them?

Scattered throughout the crowd were key figures who had left massive marks on the Hunter industry over the past decade, looking noticeably younger than he remembered.

Jungwoo adjusted his grip on Segi. As his mind settled, he looked past their faces and directly at what those gazes truly wanted from him.

His own confusion didn’t matter. If the past ten years had taught him anything, it was that the world wasn’t generous enough to wait for his hesitation; it was a place that constantly demanded choices and accountability.

South Korea’s first natural-born S-Rank Hunter—that was how the world saw him now.

If so, all he had to do was act the part. He just needed to define what had to be done and how to navigate it.

Camera flashes erupted like crazy.

Flash-flash-flash-flash—!

“Hunter Shin Jungwoo! I’m from DBS…!” “WBC News here! Just one statement…!” “Hunter Shin Jungwoo! Please give us a moment…!”

The crowd shouted at the top of their lungs, threatening to wake the whole neighborhood. The noise caused Segi to stir, squirming in his arms. Jungwoo softly stroked the back of his half-asleep daughter, whispering softly in her ear.

“It’s okay, Segi. Go back to sleep.” “Mmm…”

He took a step forward.

The crowd parted to make a path. Some pressed forward out of sheer desperation, while others held them back to widen the walkway—the former were desperate, while the latter were greedy and cautious.

Jungwoo walked in silence. Just as he was about to exit the Bureau grounds—

“Have you decided to join the Administration Bureau!?”

A reporter shouted the question with more desperation than anyone else. Jungwoo turned around. Though it was asked by a single person, he knew everyone present was dying for the answer.

“I’m sorry, but I declined. Everything still feels surreal, and I didn’t want to make a hasty decision in this state.”

Flash-flash-flash!

Flashes exploded again, followed by another shouted question.

“Could you tell us about your future plans?!”

That answer wasn’t just important to them. Jungwoo answered:

“I plan to take my time and think it over.”

To protect Segi. To preserve the peaceful life that kept her smiling. And to avoid the tragic end he knew lay ahead—what did he truly need to do? Jungwoo had been contemplating it all the way out here, and he had finally realized one thing.

“Because I want to figure out what choice is truly best for my daughter.”

First and foremost, he couldn’t let himself be swept along by others. If he held the upper hand in this dynamic, there was no need to bow his head and look easy. Instead, he needed to make it abundantly clear to them what lines could and could not be crossed.

“When I awakened, right now, and in the future—the most important thing to me will always be protecting the life my daughter has to live. That will never change.”

He left it at that. Words, after all, take on a thousand different meanings depending on who is listening. To the general public watching the broadcast, his statement sounded remarkably humble. But to the organizations desperately trying to recruit him, it carried a very different weight.

To them, Jungwoo’s words sounded like a clear message: If you want me, bring an offer enticing enough to get my attention.

“Everyone, please get home safely.”

Jungwoo gave a polite bow and left the Bureau grounds completely. Not a single person dared to chase after him. Only the frantic clatter of camera shutters echoed through the night.

By the next morning, the headlines had taken over.

[Natural-Born S-Rank Confirmed. Hunter Shin Jungwoo: “I want to consider my future carefully for my daughter’s sake.”] [A Miracle for a 23-Year-Old Single Father. Showing a firm resolve not to act rashly…] [Hunter Industry at a Standstill. Scheduled interviews for major guilds postponed en masse…]

His few brief words had instantly turned into front-page news, shaking the entire nation to its core.