S-Classes That I Raised to Devour - Chapter 34

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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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Episode 34. The Tortoise and the Hare (4)
Cheon Ihwa, perched atop the monster’s corpse, widened her eyes.
“You’re not lying to stir up my competitive spirit, are you?”
“No, ma’am. Kim Yeoul scored 89 points, and Lee Minji scored 92 points. Both scores are authentic.”
At the Aide’s words, Cheon Ihwa’s brow furrowed.
“That’s too conspicuous. How did they manage scores that high?”
From what she remembered, neither Kim Yeoul nor Lee Minji had been hunters with outstanding potential when this all began.
The Aide recounted everything that had happened to both of them.
How they had sought out Majohn when selecting an instructor—how Kim Yeoul had been chosen by him while Lee Minji had not.
How Lee Minji had taken Cheong Gyogwan’s lessons instead, and how Cheong Gyogwan had actively supported her throughout.
He knew everything except what the two had hidden.
“The field instructors have concluded that Majohn used unconventional methods to accelerate their growth.”
“They slandered my godfather without even knowing who he is.”
Majohn was both her godfather and her master.
Because of that, she knew better than anyone.
Majohn had never grown strong through shortcuts, nor did he teach using them.
If Kim Yeoul had earned 89 points, it was both a testament to Majohn’s excellent instruction and to Kim Yeoul’s own remarkable talent.
“Kim Yeoul’s score makes sense, but how did Lee Minji manage 92 points? I respect Cheong Gyogwan, but honestly, breaking past 90 is nearly impossible for him.”
“Cheong Gyogwan seemed to know the reason but said he absolutely could not disclose it.”
“So there’s definitely a secret somewhere. What I’m most curious about is how those two even found my godfather. You didn’t ask, did you?”
“No. The Association President issued strict orders that without her permission, we are not to touch anything—no matter how trivial—connected to Majohn.”
“Of course. I manage my godfather’s affairs under strict control; I need my father’s approval for even minor inquiries. But how did those two manage to find him?”
“If you command it, I will investigate without the Association President’s permission.”
The Aide was ultimately appointed by the Association President. Yet he was saying he would even deceive the President for Cheon Ihwa’s sake.
Cheon Ihwa smiled warmly and stood.
“That’s a dangerous thing to say. My father can see everything. I appreciate your loyalty, but know your place.”
“My apologies.”
The Aide dropped to one knee immediately. Cheon Ihwa brushed her hand across his shoulder as she spoke.
“Just tell me where to go next. Now that I know two people I thought were rookies grew so much in a week, I’m getting competitive.”
“Young lady, if you hunt Boss Monsters consecutively, you cannot avoid Mana Addiction.”
The monster she’d been sitting on was no ordinary creature—it was a Dungeon’s sovereign, a Boss Monster.
And there was no one around except her and the Aide.
“Will you just do what I ask? I won’t doubt your loyalty, after all.”
“Yes…”
After defeating the boss and exiting the Dungeon, the Aide searched for the path to the next one.
Cheon Ihwa toyed with her phone.
‘Chae Mujin. It was you, wasn’t it? Finding Majohn, telling those two to seek him out.’
There was no physical evidence, but her conviction was absolute. Yet she couldn’t fathom how he’d known about Majohn, or how he’d anticipated finding him there.
‘Everything leads back to you. Aren’t you scared? I know everything about you. The world doesn’t see you, but I know how extraordinary you are.’
Crack.
The multi-billion-won phone, specially designed for Dungeons, developed a fissure.
‘But why are you ignoring me?’
A text sent ten days ago still had no reply. Had his phone broken? Or did he think she was a scammer because she didn’t reveal her name? Her mind spiraled through countless possibilities.
It would be easy to call or visit and ask directly. But Cheon Ihwa’s pride wouldn’t allow it.
At the Test Venue, she had justification for seeking him out. But if she approached him now, it would be purely personal—
Which meant she’d be throwing herself at him.
‘My master warned me repeatedly. A woman should never seek out a man first. She must make him come to her.’
There had never been a word out of place from her master. This time too, she was trusting that wisdom and waiting. Yet it was driving her to madness.
‘It’s only been ten days. Why does it feel like a year?’
It was reasonable that he hadn’t visited. But that he hadn’t even contacted her was beyond comprehension.
Who was she? Cheon Ihwa. Within a week of the Public Hunter examination’s conclusion, she’d surpassed level 100. Now she was solo-hunting Boss Monsters.
Consecutively, at that.
Videos of her exploits had spread across news outlets, Hunternet, and NewTube alike.
‘He might avoid the news, but if he’s a hunter, he checks Hunternet. Does he not watch NewTube during breaks or travel? My name is in the top ten trending searches. You know my contact information, and yet you won’t reach out?’
Jingle.
The Bell Bracelet around her wrist chimed. It hadn’t made a sound, even when she fought the Boss Monster.
“Young lady. I’ve brought the car.”
“…Let’s go.”
Cheon Ihwa climbed into the vehicle with an expression of perfect serenity, as though none of that had ever happened.
Throughout the drive, she gazed blankly out the window, looking every bit like someone at rest.
But her fingers circled endlessly around the call button on her phone.
After an hour of such deliberation, she had constructed her rationalization.
‘That’s right. This isn’t personal contact. It’s official Association business—a formal gathering to commend high scorers. I’m not reaching out because I need him. Not at all.’
With her justification complete, her fingers flew maniacally across the phone’s keypad.
Once she’d sent the message, her expression cleared into a serene smile—the look of someone who’d finally resolved a nagging question.
* * *
Lee Minji was naturally the center of attention at the Public Hunter intensive training completion ceremony.
To celebrate the appearance of a 90-point scorer for the first time in fifteen years, the Vice President and Gangwon Province Governor themselves had attended.
There were no tedious congratulatory speeches. They simply offered brief congratulations, shook hands, took one photo, and departed graciously with their gifts.
By now, they too had learned: shorter remarks were better, and gifts were best presented quickly.
“To the three graduates who exceeded 70 points with distinguished records—Lee Minji, Kim Yeoul, and Bae Jita—we present certificates of commendation from the Hunter Director and, as prizes, Luck-Blocking Talismans.”
Everyone wore bored expressions during the certificate presentation, but when the Luck-Blocking Talismans were distributed as prizes, gasps erupted throughout the hall.
“These were the prize? Insane…”
“A talisman said to be rarer than elixir itself?”
The talismans sold on the open market were mere scraps of paper—yellowed cloth inscribed with Chinese characters—serving only as comfort to the heart.
But government-issued talismans were different. They were the handiwork of Jeon Wuchi, a national living treasure and officially recognized master of the Taoist arts.
His Luck-Blocking Talismans genuinely warded off misfortune—treasures beyond price, priceless as elixir itself.
The sole drawback was that they weren’t items, so they couldn’t be stored in an Inventory. But thinking about it, this was actually an advantage.
The ceremony ended, but most hunters lingered. Some spoke with the instructors they’d grown fond of over the week; others formed groups and went out drinking with fellow hunters they’d befriended.
Surprisingly, other hunters also approached Kim Yeoul and Lee Minji, asking to exchange contact information.
“Sorry. That won’t be possible.”
“No way.”
They turned away each person who approached. Their intentions were transparent.
These hunters wanted to avoid genuine friendship while saving their contacts for later, planning to call on them for favors when needed—their scheming expressions made this perfectly clear.
Of course, a few approached with genuine warmth.
“Minji, really, congratulations. You must have worked hard these past seven days.”
Bae Jita, having endured the freshman hazing thoroughly, was covered head to toe in flour. In that state, he held out his phone to Lee Minji.
“Could I have your contact information?”
“…Well, you’re at least somewhat normal.”
Bae Jita succeeded in obtaining Lee Minji’s number. As he received his phone back, he spoke.
“Don’t trust the Korean government. They haven’t abandoned the idea of weaponizing hunters.”
“…What?”
He’d said it with sudden solemnity, then vanished into the crowd as though he’d never said anything at all.
“What was that about?”
When Kim Yeoul asked curiously, Lee Minji simply shrugged.
“No idea. Let’s just go home. I’m dying for a hot, savory gamja-tang stew.”
Neither of them said anything about the scores. It was as if they’d made an unspoken pact of silence.
As they waited for an autonomous taxi, a single car suddenly entered the Parade Ground.
All eyes turned toward it. Not merely because the vehicle’s appearance was refined and luxurious.
“Isn’t that a Prion Car?”
“I’ve only ever seen it on NewTube. The real thing is insane.”
Prion—a magical mineral that humanity had artificially created through the use of Mana.
A single vehicle made from it easily cost over fifty billion won.
The Prion Car stopped in front of Kim Yeoul and Lee Minji. A man emerged from the driver’s seat—strikingly large-framed, dressed in a crisp suit.
“Hunters Kim Yeoul and Lee Minji. Cheon Ihwa is waiting for you.”
“Cheon Ihwa?”
“My goodness, she sent a driver for us?”
The driver quietly nodded and opened the rear door.
Lee Minji boarded immediately, but Kim Yeoul picked up her phone.
“I should check with my manager first.”
Just as she was about to call Chae Mujin, the driver spoke.
“Your manager is already waiting.”
“Your manager is waiting?”
“There are many eyes and ears. Please board for now.”
His tone was courteous, but his aura made Kim Yeoul’s fists clench.
The Yaksha within her stirred, wanting to fight this man.
But Kim Yeoul shook her head. Chae Mujin was waiting, after all.
“…Okay.”
Resisting the Yaksha’s temptation, she found the Prion Car’s interior oddly more spacious than its exterior suggested.
“I’ll explain as we depart. Young lady Cheon Ihwa has arranged a reception to honor the exceptional effort of you two high scorers.”
“We’re going straight to the reception? But we haven’t even showered!”
“That’s no concern. The reception will be held at Hwrang Hotel. And the hotel owner is young lady Ihwa herself. All services are complimentary.”
“So my manager is already there waiting for us, right?”
“Yes. He arrived thirty minutes ago and is currently in the lounge.”
Once Kim Yeoul and Lee Minji grasped the situation, they relaxed. The tension dissolved, replaced by anticipation—especially for Lee Minji, who could barely contain her excitement.
‘How shocked will he be when he finds out I scored 90? Does he already know? If he does, he must have prepared a gift.’
While Lee Minji indulged in happy fantasies, Kim Yeoul pressed forward with a darker expression.
“When you say reception, are there other guests?”
“All I know is that the party’s organizer is young lady Cheon Ihwa, and that Hunter Chae Mujin has arrived. Nothing more.”
“Could you find out for us?”
“My duty is solely to deliver you both safely to Hwrang Hotel.”
“How much longer until we arrive?”
“We’ve already arrived.”
“What?”
Kim Yeoul and Lee Minji simultaneously glanced out the window. They’d assumed he was lying, but a tall hotel was indeed visible.
“Wait, what? We were just driving on the highway…”
“Only five minutes have passed.”
A high-speed train from Gangwon Province to Seoul takes at least an hour.
Yet here they were in Seoul’s congested downtown, parked at Hwrang Hotel’s garage—all in five minutes by car. This was no ordinary “drive.”
Just then, a man approached the car. Immaculate tailored suit with sharp lines, sleek hairstyle, marble-like skin, and a face both profound and tinged with melancholy.
Both women immediately assumed he was a celebrity. Surely he was just walking past.
But the man walked straight toward them, yanked open the car door, and spoke.
“Why are you still sitting there?”
“Huh?”
At the sound of his voice, realization struck both of them. The man they’d taken for a celebrity—he was Chae Mujin.

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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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