Infinite Evolution Hunter - Chapter 49

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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49
“Monsters… aren’t appearing?”
It had been an ironclad law that new monsters emerged from the Gate at regular intervals—a pattern that had never once deviated.
“Any monsters from Sector 2?”
“No monsters appearing in Sector 2.”
“No monsters appearing in Sector 4.”
Hunters scattered throughout the Gate reported via communication devices. Monsters appeared nowhere.
“We did it!”
Someone shouted first, and everyone erupted in cheers.
Even Jae-in, who’d seemed so confident, wiped sweat from her brow—clearly she’d been more nervous than she let on.
With this, Korea had taken a step back from the danger of a Gate Break.
* * *
Even after the Awakener Management Bureau waited for several days at the location where the Bridge Gate had been reversed, no monsters emerged.
Reassured by the successful first experiment, they proceeded to reverse other Gates sequentially. There was a sense of rushing, but monsters were still pouring through the Bridge Gate toward Telus. For the Korean Government, desperately short on personnel, it was an unavoidable choice.
The reversed Gates either didn’t reset at all, or the number of monsters that appeared dropped by more than half.
“Nineteen years since the Gates opened! At last, we’ve taken a step closer to complete understanding of the Gates.”
The moderator spoke with passionate intensity on a discussion program about the Bridge Gate reversal.
“Isn’t that an exaggeration? Only 43 Gates have been reversed. That’s just 10 percent of the 400 Gates in Korea.”
A university professor, one of the pessimists, spoke with arrogant confidence.
“You don’t seem to know what ranks those 45 Gates are. They’re all B, C, and D-rank. If we limit it to B, C, and D-rank Gates, it’s not 10 percent—it’s 50 percent.”
Lee Mu-yeol, a professor at the Academy who taught the history of Gates and Awakeners, challenged the pessimistic professor’s numbers.
“What does that matter? Looking at the whole picture, it’s still not 10 percent, is it?”
“It does matter. Everyone knows Korea lacks C-rank and above Hunters relative to its population. What this means is that Hunters have been overexerting themselves to prevent Breaks. If this incident leads to a decrease in Hunter mortality rates within Gates, Korea’s Hunter population will stabilize, and that will reduce the danger of Breaks.”
The pessimistic professor’s expression filled with frustration at Lee Mu-yeol’s pointed argument, but he couldn’t open his mouth to respond.
“Moreover, this is only the beginning. If we research this technology, it could help us understand the cause of the Gates.”
Lee Mu-yeol spoke with confidence. For those who’d directly experienced the early Gate disasters, this event held profound significance.
People rejoiced at the news of Gate reduction. Disasters were decreasing, after all.
But before long, unexpected side effects emerged.
The work for C-rank and above Hunters had been cut in half. With their income suddenly reduced, C-rank and above Hunters increasingly cleared D, E, and F-rank Gates multiple times—ranks below their own. This had an even greater impact on the livelihoods of the numerically larger D-rank and below Hunters.
Just 10 percent of the Gates had sent shockwaves through the Hunter industry. For ordinary citizens and Hunters, there was no direct, immediate benefit from the reduction in Gates. There was only a decrease in future anxiety. However, the decrease in Gate numbers not only brought direct disadvantages to Hunters but also significantly impacted Korea’s economy.
Before stopping Helen, I’d never thought about such things. Or rather, it wasn’t that I couldn’t think about it—I simply didn’t. When the world would perish without action, there was neither reason nor time to weigh profits.
* * *
“Brother, did you see the announcement?”
“North Korean Territory Recovery?”
“That’s right. The Awakener Management Bureau really thought this through. Hunters without work would leave the country, so they’re giving them jobs and achieving a long-cherished goal at the same time, right?”
“True. At the current pace, it would take decades to recover the territory.”
North Korea’s terrain was mostly mountains, with monsters spread deep into those ranges. Clearing those monsters with only Korean Hunters and establishing new border systems was a massive undertaking requiring unlimited expenditure of money and time.
But the returns were equally substantial. There were monster cores and materials to harvest, and raw materials from North Korea to extract.
“The compensation and conditions were good too, weren’t they? With that many people mobilizing, it shouldn’t be dangerous, and if you go, it would be very safe, wouldn’t it?”
The government and Awakener Management Bureau adopted a different approach than usual subjugation missions to quell Hunter discontent. They arranged for separately hired Hunters and collection workers to also handle the collection of cores and byproducts from hunts in North Korean operations. Hunters could hunt without worry, simply leaving markers and returning—this would accelerate hunting speed. The recently quiet Hwagok Recovery Service also participated as a subcontractor.
“You’re really dragging out the ‘let’s go together’ speech. I was going anyway, with or without the invitation. I’m already getting flak from the hunter community for reversing that Gate and running dungeons so frequently—I need a break from Korean Gates.”
For a while after the incident, I’d been the hero who prevented a catastrophic Gate disaster. But it didn’t last long before negative public opinion about me began to surface. I didn’t care much, but there was no point in deliberately courting public disdain.
“What about you, sister?”
“Of course I’m going. I already submitted my application.”
Bae Na-young’s treatment had become exceptional lately. She was one of the few hunters capable of both devastating area-of-effect attacks and deploying wide-range crowd control that rendered monsters immobile. She earned more from subjugation missions than I did, despite my A-rank status.
Bae Na-young had climbed to B-rank thanks to her impressive contributions over the past few months. Yang Sang-heon, now C-rank, had been surpassed by her, but he showed no resentment—Bae Na-young was simply in a league of her own.
“Oh, and I’m bringing a few more people with us.”
“Who?”
Yang Sang-heon and Bae Na-young tilted their heads in unison, curious.
* * *
“Hunter Lee Ji-seok… are we really going too?”
The morning we departed for the North Korean Territory restoration subjugation mission, Yu Hyung-bin, the president of the Detective Agency, hunched his massive frame and spoke with uncharacteristic deference.
“Of course you’re going. You lot need to become useful for anything. If all you’re doing is watching from a distance, you’re worthless.”
I’d brought the entire Hyunsung Detective Agency crew along.
They’d all claimed their abilities were too ambiguous to function as hunters, which was why they ran the detective agency instead. But combining my past-life knowledge with the information Paul had shared about mana manipulation, I could see that every single one of them had potential for growth.
Of course, a little training wouldn’t turn them all into A-rank hunters. Their abilities might not develop at all. But if you don’t try, you’ll never know. You have to scratch a lottery ticket to win.
“Work them like dogs, and they’ll become at least somewhat useful.”
“But… will that actually raise our abilities?”
The same thing Yang Sang-heon and Bae Na-young had said.
“You haven’t even tried, have you? I’ll make sure you earn good money, so just shut up and follow along.”
Before departure, I’d gotten a quick rundown of the Detective Agency members’ abilities.
President Yu Hyung-bin was a textbook tank—a 2-meter giant who used a Gigantification skill to reach 3 meters tall. His problem was relatively weak stamina, strength, and agility, so he couldn’t hold the front line. With such stats, enlarging himself just made him a bigger target.
Nam Si-hwan, the Detective Agency’s number two and the one who’d yelled at my mother and thrown a cup at her before getting smashed by me, possessed a Shout skill. His voice had been remarkably piercing when he’d screamed at Mother. Guilty about his past actions, he was the most obsequious toward me.
Noh Jin-woo, who carried a bit of extra weight, could summon creatures. The problem was they were tiny and pathetically weak. His summoning range was also short, so he couldn’t send them far for reconnaissance.
Jung Min-woo, the second-largest after President Yu, had accompanied us when we broke down Seo Kyung-hyun’s door. He could transform his body, but the hardness only matched human bone—a moderately strong hit would shatter or sever it.
Unlike the four large men, the youngest, Noh Chang-hee, had a relatively lean build and could control projectiles. In other words, he could throw daggers or fire arrows that would curve around cover to hit enemies. It was the most useful ability among them, but he was so fearful he couldn’t even conceive of launching weapons at living creatures. He’d been expelled from the Academy because of it.
He was on par with someone who’d vomited and panicked during my Academy graduation exam, then fled and got expelled.
“How did they end up gathering people like you all in one place?”
Looking at the five of them lined up, I couldn’t help but sigh at this collection of useless hunters.
These five were weaker than most hunters but stronger than non-awakened individuals, making them perfect for running a detective agency against ordinary people. And detective work paid better than what non-awakened people did.
“This is Yang Sang-heon, and this is Bae Na-young. They’re your seniors, so don’t act up and listen to what they say.”
“Hello.”
“Hello. Oppa… you seem older than me, but you’re speaking informally?”
Bae Na-young, who’d only ever seen me treat people with courtesy, looked a bit surprised at my casual tone. Yu President was a few years my senior, but the rest of them looked younger than me.
“Oh, I didn’t mention it. Lim Sung-jun once sent gangsters to my mother’s shop.”
“Yes. Your mother got a scar on her cheek from that. Why are you bringing it up now?”
Bae Na-young looked at me with confusion, unable to understand why I was asking this at this particular moment.
“That guy.”
I pointed at Nam Si-hwan.
In an instant, Bae Na-young’s eyes darkened, and deep indigo mana surged up behind her.
“Calm down. I already went and dealt with him anyway. He didn’t intentionally hurt Mother.”
Nam Si-hwan, who’d been sent flying by my single punch that day, had suffered the worst injuries among the four and required the most potions back then.
“Still… why do you insist on traveling with people like this?”
“Well… shouldn’t people be given chances?”
If I hadn’t intervened, Bae Na-young would’ve become a villain too. Since even bad karma is still karma, I wanted to give the five brothers a chance as well. And if they’d been completely irredeemable villains, I wouldn’t have done this.
Besides, after suffering so much in my previous life and witnessing so much filth, I’d become magnanimous enough to overlook most things. For example, I don’t bother hunting down and taking revenge on those who picked fights with me at the Academy. Of course, if I happen to run into them, I can give them a little adjustment.
“And these guys will undergo the same training you and Yang Sang-heon did.”
I need to forcibly develop their abilities, but if I just grab anyone and work them over like I did with Yang Sang-heon or Bae Na-young, they’ll all run away.
With these hopeless five brothers, I won’t feel guilty working them hard, and they won’t complain either. Actually, they can’t complain even if they want to. And if I train them properly while giving them appropriate incentives, I’m confident I can mold them into useful subordinates.
“Ah… if that’s the case, then…”
Bae Na-young, who knew how intense the training was, seemed to be thinking they deserved a taste of it themselves.
“Alright, five brothers, gather around.”
They shuffled over and stood before me.
“I requested it from a high-ranking official at the Awakener Management Bureau and obtained the credentials to serve as your temporary Academy instructor. I’ll have you undergo training and practical experience, then grant you official Hunter licenses.”
“Really?!”
All five of them shouted almost simultaneously.
“Really. Just sign here.”
I distributed the documents I’d obtained in advance from the Awakener Management Bureau to all five of them.
“What is this?”
Yu President, holding what must have been twenty pages of contracts, asked.
“It’s a consent form for receiving training from me that substitutes for the Hunter Academy and becoming a Hunter.”
“…May I read it first?”
“Go ahead.”
The five of them crouched down, put their heads together, and began reading through the contract.
And I stood nearby with my arms crossed, quietly observing them.
As they read page after page, the tiny, densely-written legal terminology spanning twenty pages, combined with the silent pressure I was exerting, made it impossible for the words to register in their minds.
Noticing my intention, Bae Na-young came over and quietly observed them alongside me. Her gaze was even colder than mine.
“Ahem. We trust you. Here.”
Yu President exchanged looks with his brothers, then handed over the signed contract.
“Good. Don’t worry. You won’t die.”
As I accepted the contract and smiled, Bae Na-young wore a satisfied expression while Yang Sang-heon clicked his tongue in mock sympathy. The five brothers, sensing something had gone wrong, were filled with apprehension.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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