The All-Time Best Talent was F-Class Purification - Chapter 69

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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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69
Chapter 69 – An Elite Talent Awakened as an F-Rank Purifier
Zzzt.
A sharp sensation pierced my brow—not quite killing intent, but closer to the desperate shriek of a terrified beast.
Five meters ahead, a man emerged from the darkness, thrusting a corroded iron spear toward my throat. Rust stained the blade a dull red, and its tip trembled like aspen leaves in wind.
“I asked who you are…!”
The man’s voice cracked. Instead of answering, I examined him through the eyes of an A-rank Hunter.
Even in the murky darkness, information flooded my mind like data. The irregular muscle contractions in his left leg—an old injury, likely from a monster bite that severed nerves. The worn dagger hanging at his waist, its grip polished smooth from years of use. And his heartbeat: thump, thump, thump, thump. Over 140 beats per minute. Extreme terror.
My instincts rendered judgment instantly. Low E-rank, and injured at that. A threat? None. He was dust beneath my feet.
The old me would have broken into a cold sweat seeing that spear tip. Now it looked like a toy. I was certain I could disarm him and snap his neck in the 0.3 seconds it took him to blink.
But I didn’t move. These people weren’t enemies. And more than that—something about that man’s eyes held my attention. Despite the terror that made his pupils quiver, he refused to retreat, standing as a shield for those behind him.
‘Park Jae-jung….’
The name drifted through my mind unexpectedly. He had always been that way too—willing to stand before me even if his shield shattered.
As the silence stretched around me, the people in the plaza held even their breath. To them, I was an uninvited guest, an unknown terror. Shadows from the campfire flickered at my feet.
I raised my hand slowly, deliberately—a gesture of peaceful intent. But even that simple motion made the man flinch and stumble backward. The overwhelming residual mana radiating from my body had triggered his survival instincts.
“Lower the spear.”
My voice fell low across the quiet plaza. Dry. Cold. Yet unmistakably clear.
“It won’t even graze my collar.”
It wasn’t a taunt—it was fact. The man bit his lip. He must have known. His E-rank detection skill was screaming warnings loud enough to split his skull. My very presence didn’t belong in this place.
“Who… who exactly are you…?”
The man neither lowered the spear nor thrust it forward. I took a step from the darkness to break the stalemate.
Thud.
As firelight illuminated my entire body, words burst from the people’s lips.
“Gasp…!”
“Look… look at that state….”
Only then did I become aware of my own appearance. The commander’s tactical jacket hung in tatters, half-melted away. Exposed skin and fabric were caked in dark red blood and black soot. Anyone would have thought I’d just escaped from hell itself.
Yet paradoxically, that grotesque appearance gave them relief. Proof I wasn’t a monster. Mutants and creatures don’t wear clothes. They don’t bleed, wear garments, or speak.
“A… a person?”
“It’s a person! Not a monster!”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Caution eased slightly, and curiosity began to surface. I slowly pulled back my hood.
My face emerged from the tangled mess of hair. Skin bleached pale from inhaling too much toxic gas. But above it, two eyes gleamed with an ethereal blue light.
I swept my gaze across the people gathered around the campfire. Elderly, children, exhausted young adults. Most were malnourished and unwashed. But their smell didn’t repel me. If anything, it was welcome—not the sterile, acrid stench of the underground, but the sticky, sordid, yet unmistakably living scent of human existence.
“Where is this place?”
I posed the obvious question—the safest way to begin a conversation. The man answered.
“The… Lower District. 9 Block Plaza.”
“What’s the date?”
“…November 14th.”
November 14th. I calculated mentally. We had descended to block the gas on November 5th. My teammates left, and I jumped into the Sinkhole alone on November 8th.
‘A week….’
I had spent six full days in that hellish gas pit. It felt like months, even years had passed. Yet only a week. The relativity of time struck me oddly.
“For the past week… how has the gas been?”
The man’s eyes wavered at my question. He lowered the window slowly, studying my face as if unable to believe what he was seeing.
“You… did you really come up from the Ground Level?”
“Answer my question first.”
My words carried weight. Pressure. An A-rank aura leaked out unintentionally. The man gasped for breath and answered urgently.
“It came out! It poured out like crazy! Until three days ago, it was gushing so hard we couldn’t even breathe. We sealed the door with tape and hid like we were dead!”
Three days ago. That coincided exactly with when I reached the bottom of the Sinkhole and began absorbing the gas in earnest.
“But… it suddenly started decreasing from the night before last. Yesterday it almost stopped. So we… thought we’d take a chance and come out.”
Trembling mixed into the man’s voice. He scanned my entire body once more. Clothes soaked in blood, yet skin smooth and unmarred by a single wound. And emanating faintly from my body was a scent similar to the gas yet entirely different—refreshingly clean.
He seemed to sense something. The instinct of a Hunter who had lived roughly in the Lower District. The realization that this man before him was not unrelated to the miracle they had experienced.
“What… what did you do down there?”
All eyes focused on that question. I did not answer. Even if I explained, they would not understand. If I said I had drunk or consumed the gas, they would treat me like a madman.
Instead, I rummaged through my pocket. Was there anything worth giving? But my pockets contained only a top-tier D-rank mana stone and an empty energy bar wrapper. No money, no food. A pathetically shabby appearance for an A-rank Hunter.
‘I’m hungry.’
I had consumed the gas voraciously, but that was merely mana. My stomach was empty. The hunger of a human being. It dragged me back to reality.
“Water.”
I spoke curtly.
“And I need a place to wash.”
Such an ordinary request. Those few words snapped the taut tension like a twig. People exchanged glances and murmured among themselves. This intimidating man was simply asking for water.
The man who had been on guard released a deep sigh and lowered the window completely. He must have understood that I could kill them all and take what I wanted if I chose to. Yet I was making a request instead—he accepted this as proof that I was, at least, not a murderer.
“…Follow me.”
The man limped ahead, leading the way.
“But don’t expect much. We don’t have much left either. Just rainwater we’ve collected, and some rusty stuff mixed in.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
I followed in his wake. The crowd in the Plaza parted like the Red Sea, opening a path. Their gazes fixed on my back. Wariness lingered, but mingled within it was a strange anticipation. A man who had returned alive from hell. A man who appeared at the moment the gas ceased.
I walked forward, silently bearing their stares. Now I had to blend in among them. I would make this place my foundation, and rebuild my crumbling castle.
But before that.
Grrrrowl.
A thunderous sound erupted from my stomach. The man walking ahead paused, then chuckled without turning around. That small laugh was like a signal flare announcing my return to the human world.
Trickle, trickle, trickle.
A thin stream of brownish water flowed from the end of a rusted faucet. It was less water than muddy sludge. A murky liquid mixing rust from ancient pipes with sediment that had settled over days.
Yet I stared blankly at that stream of water. At the bottom of the Sinkhole, in that endless darkness, there had been only raging toxins and sticky mucus. Flowing water. Something drinkable existing in liquid form. That ordinary physical phenomenon felt strangely unfamiliar.
“This is… all there is.”
The security guard who had guided me—or rather, the former E-rank Hunter—offered me a dented tin cup with an awkward expression.
“The water filter broke a long time ago, so you might get an upset stomach if you just drink it. It’s better to boil it first….”
Instead of answering, I took the cup. The cold touch of metal transmitted through my fingertips. I brought the cup to my lips without hesitation.
Gulp.
Water went down my throat. A fishy metallic taste. A chalky earthiness lingering on my tongue. A flavor a gourmet would have spat out, but not for me. My shriveled stomach convulsed with a cheer. The realization that a substance, not mana, had entered my body sent a sharp tingle through my brain.
I emptied the cup in one go. He stared at me with wide eyes. There was no need to worry about an upset stomach. My body was now a blast furnace coated with A-rank mana. Any bacteria or heavy metals in this rusty water would be purified and vanish before reaching my stomach.
“Is there more?”
At my words, Kim hesitated and gestured toward the water bucket. I leaned directly under the faucet myself.
Whoooosh—
Cold water cascaded over my head. The monster’s blood, dust, and toxic residue that had clung between my hair strands flowed downward as black water. The chill was so exhilarating that goosebumps rose across my skin.
I removed the alchemist’s hand and scrubbed my face with my bare hands. Though rough handling should have reddened my skin, my A-grade reconstructed complexion remained smooth and firm. The contours of my face felt unfamiliar to my fingertips. My cheekbones seemed more pronounced, and my jawline appeared sharper.
“Phew….”
As I lifted my head, the Shantytown residents came into view through my wet bangs. They watched me in silence, like spectators at a zoo.
Fear still lingered in their gazes, but its nature had shifted. Where once it was terror at the possibility of a monster, now it resembled curiosity toward something of a different species.
I shook my wet hair back roughly and looked at the Hunter, asking a question.
“Is there anything to eat?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, there is.”
He spun around hastily and shouted.
“Hey! Is there any sujebi left over there? Bring some here!”
Shortly after, an Elderly Woman wearing a grimy apron stained with dirt emerged carrying a steaming plastic bowl. Her hands trembled. The sight of me up close and the overwhelming pressure emanating from my body had frozen her in place.
“Th-thank you.”
I accepted the bowl, trying to speak as gently as possible. Sujebi—a few unidentifiable dough lumps floating in a murky broth. The only garnish was a handful of withered vegetable scraps. The pathetic appearance spoke volumes about the food shortage in the Lower District.
Yet the aroma was extraordinary. The scent of carbohydrates. The smell of food prepared by humans using fire.
Without a spoon, I drank the broth directly from the bowl. The warm liquid traveled down my esophagus, warming my previously chilled internal organs.
Gulp. Gulp.
The dough was undercooked and smelled of flour, but I chewed and swallowed it thoroughly. While my A-grade mana reserves were more than sufficient, my hunger as a human could only be satisfied by this pathetic lump of flour.
I emptied the bowl in an instant. I heard people swallowing hard. Only then did some of my rationality return. Had I eaten like a beast?
“…Thank you for the meal.”
As I offered the empty bowl, the Elderly Woman accepted it hastily and retreated as if fleeing. I wiped the broth from my lips with the back of my hand and sat on an empty drum near the campfire.
Now I was ready to talk.
“Please, sit.”
I gestured with my chin to the seat across from me. He hesitated before sitting in the worn chair opposite me. His old spear now rested on the ground.
“What’s your name?”
“…Kim Seok-hun. I used to belong to the Steel Fang Guild.”
Steel Fang. The mobster guild I had dealt with. He was probably a low-ranking member who had drifted here after the guild collapsed.
“I’m Lee Tae-hyun.”
At my name, Kim Seok-hun’s eyebrows twitched. There was a reaction. My name, and the name Munglade, were quite famous in the Lower District.
“Lee Tae-hyun…? You don’t mean the one from Munglade Guild…?”
“That’s right.”
“Good heavens….”
Kim Seok-hun’s jaw dropped. The people eavesdropping nearby began to murmur.
“Munglade…”
“The Renewal Shop owner?”
“I heard he was dead?”
Kim Seok-hun scanned me with an expression of disbelief.
“The rumors said… you were buried along with your guild members during the Ground Level accident. That the Dominion bastards cut off the passage and everyone died….”
“Half true, half false. The Blue Tower’s transport ship that departed recently—did it make it up safely?”
At my question, Kim Seok-hun’s eyes widened. He paused, searching his memory, then nodded.
“Ah… that thing. Yeah, I saw it. Made a loud noise and shot straight up toward the Middle District. Were those your guild members inside?”
“That’s correct.”
I answered briefly, swallowing a sigh of relief. The transport ship hadn’t crashed or been intercepted en route. That meant Park Jae-jung, Seo Eun-ha, and the others had at least made it back to the Middle District safely.
But Kim Seok-hun’s next words made my skin crawl.
“But… something feels off.”
“What do you mean? You said all communications were cut off.”
Kim Seok-hun gave a bitter smile and pulled a crumpled wad of papers from his pocket. They were torn newspaper scraps and flyers stained with grease.
“We didn’t hear it from above. These came down mixed in with the garbage people dumped up there.”
He pointed upward with his finger, toward the distant ceiling. The artificial bedrock supporting the Middle District. Through the drainage gutters and waste disposal chutes along its edges, garbage discarded by those above regularly fell into the Lower District.
“Right after the accident, those Dominion bastards broadcast via drone: ‘The terrorist group Munglade bombed the Research Facility, so we’re isolating the Lower District for safety.’ After that, no more broadcasts—just these flyers falling down occasionally.”
Kim Seok-hun unfolded one of the newspaper scraps. The date was three days ago. A small headline in the corner of the front page caught my eye.
[Breaking: Dominion Freezes Assets of Munglade, Suspected Perpetrator of Gas Terror… Headquarters Raided]
“Assets frozen….”
My eyes narrowed. This wasn’t a lockdown—Dominion was framing us as terrorists and trying to forcibly swallow our guild whole.
If Park Jae-jung and Seo Eun-ha had made it back alive, they would have fought desperately. But the fact that “asset freeze” appeared in the headlines meant the situation was dire. Were we politically isolated, or had that snake Kang Chang-gyung taken my comrades hostage?
“Everyone thinks Munglade is finished. With Dominion being so blatant about it, what would us Lower District folk know? We just cursed and thought, ‘Ah, those bastards caused trouble and got us trapped.'”
Kim Seok-hun continued, gauging my reaction.
“But… it doesn’t add up.”
“What doesn’t?”
“The gas stopped just two days ago. And today, you crawled up from the Ground Level below.”
Kim Seok-hun’s eyes sharpened. Despite being E-rank, his experience grinding in the Lower Floor couldn’t be dismissed. He was connecting the timing of two events.
“If your people were terrorists like the article says, there’d be no reason to crawl up after the gas stopped. You’d have released more gas and fled instead.”
He fell silent for a moment, then asked in a trembling voice.
“You… survived that hellish Ground Level? Right after the gas stopped?”
I didn’t answer. Neither confirming nor denying—just silence. But perhaps Kim Seok-hun felt the weight contained in that silence. The First Floor Ruins where no one could survive. A man who walked out from there. And the gas that stopped the moment he appeared.
“Shit… this is insane.”
Kim Seok-hun laughed hollowly and crumpled the flyer in his hand, throwing it to the ground.
“Yeah, that article was total bullshit. A terrorist wouldn’t go down to the gas-filled Ground Level to clean up their own mess.”
He looked at me with certainty in his eyes.
“You did it, didn’t you? Stopped the gas. I don’t know exactly what you did… but at least it’s a fact that after you came up, we could finally breathe.”
“What’s the situation in the Lower District? What about Dominion?”
Kim Seok-hun gave a bitter smile and spat on the ground.
“There’s nothing to move or do. Those bastards cut off the passage and completely abandoned us. No food supplies, no electricity—nothing. Over the past week, more people have starved to death than died from the gas.”
He gestured with his eyes toward the people around the campfire.
“Look at them. They’re all skin and bones. The gas stopped and they barely managed to crawl out, but there’s nothing to eat. Monsters? Even I’m E-rank, and my legs are like this, so I can’t hunt. All we can do is catch rats and boil them.”
He was right. The people’s eyes were hollow, their bones showing. A land where people were alive but dying.
I stood up from my seat.
“Kim Seok-hun.”
“Huh? What?”
“Where is the largest monster swarm in this area? Near that old mart that used to be a food warehouse, perhaps?”
“Well… there’s a Giant Rat nest in Block 12 Underground Parking Lot, but there are so many of them that….”
“Guide me there.”
“What? Now? At this hour?”
Kim Seok-hun recoiled in alarm, waving his hands frantically. But I found myself reaching toward my waist by habit, grasping for the cool hilt of the dagger that always hung there.
Empty. My fingers closed on nothing. Ah, that’s right. The White Fang was wedged deep underground now, plugging the Fissure in the Sinkhole. I’d left my most trusted partner behind.
Yet I felt no panic. Instead, a quiet laugh escaped me. What use was a weapon to me now?
I reached out with my left hand—the one wrapped in the Alchemist’s Gauntlet—and gripped the rusted steel railing beside me. The thick steel pipe crumpled like clay under my grip, twisted like taffy by the sheer force of my hand. It wasn’t mere strength. It was the result of A-rank mana converted into physical force through the gauntlet.
“Hieek…!”
Kim Seok-hun’s eyes bulged from their sockets. I needed no weapon. My body itself had become a lethal instrument.
“I should earn my keep.”
I tossed the crumpled pipe aside and spoke briefly to the people staring up at me in stunned silence.
“Boil some water. I’ll bring back meat.”
My first act as an A-rank Hunter. Not revenge, not politics. Simply filling the bellies of people who had offered me a warm bowl of hand-pulled noodles when I had nothing. That was the only thing I needed to do now, and the only thing I wanted to do.
I turned toward the darkness. Behind me, I heard Kim Seok-hun limping after me, scrambling to keep up. A night was beginning—brutally pragmatic and profoundly human.

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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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