The Archmage’s Swordsmanship Is Too Strong - Chapter 20

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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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20
Chapter 20. A Disparate Assembly
***
Cramped.
Severely so.
An honest first impression.
Second floor of the G City Hall annex.
The moment I stepped into the Ability Management Team office, my first thought was: warehouse.
Maybe half the size of a school classroom.
In that narrow space, weathered metal cabinets lined the walls like a folding screen.
There was one window, but a precariously hung outdoor air-conditioning unit blocked half the view.
An environment where mold would thrive—no proper sunlight reaching inside.
Four desks clustered in the center in a cross formation, buried under mountains of paperwork so deep that a single person could barely squeeze through.
The decorative floor tiles were torn up in patches, and one fluorescent light flickered as if its days were numbered.
So this is the headquarters of the municipal hunter team…
Inefficient workflow, suffocating density.
The phrase “budget shortage” seemed to possess the entire space.
Yet oddly, there was no sense of slovenliness.
The items were worn, but arranged with knife-like precision.
Obsessive orderliness.
Crackle—
A faint sound pierced the silence.
It sounded like electricity arcing, or dry wood burning.
The source was a small partitioned corner of the office.
A man worked intently, wearing an appraisal magnifier.
Early twenties, with a youthful face.
Hair brushed back neatly, tortoiseshell-framed glasses.
And a checkered shirt—the unofficial uniform of engineering students.
‘An appraiser?’
He held a black sphere in his hands.
An unappraisable item fresh from a Gate.
A typical appraiser would channel Mana to check the resonance reaction, but he was different.
‘He’s dissecting it.’
The Mana extending from his fingertips was thread-thin and sharp.
It was physically peeling away the black haze covering the sphere’s surface.
Like a surgeon wielding a scalpel to excise affected tissue.
Precise, unsettlingly composed hand movements.
If standard appraisal was “reading a book’s cover,” his method was “tearing the book apart and checking each page directly.”
Far more dangerous, far more difficult.
A gamble—one micrometer of error in Mana Control and the item itself would be destroyed.
Yet he was calmly enjoying that gamble.
This wasn’t talent. It was madness.
Whoosh.
The black haze dispersed, and a silver artifact revealed itself within the sphere.
A perfect extraction with zero-point-one-millimeter precision.
“Phew.”
The man adjusted his glasses, steadied his breathing, and wiped the lenses with his sleeve.
Only then did he sense my presence—he startled and stood up quickly.
“Team lead, you’re here?”
“Yes, Jae-hui. Say hello. This is Kim Do-jin, a Hunter.”
Kim Dae-han patted my back lightly.
“Let me introduce him. The jewel of our team—our appraiser, Choo Jae-hui.”
So this was him.
The items from last time, the ones packed in that iron suitcase.
The architect of that miraculous 99.8% appraisal accuracy.
“A pleasure to meet you. I’m Kim Do-jin.”
“Ah, yes! The honor is mine. I’m Choo Jae-hui.”
He extended his hand hurriedly.
His palm was smooth, unmarked by a fighter’s calluses. Not a combat operative’s hand.
But the residue of Mana I felt in his grip was sharp and keen.
Microscopically fine vibrations—the mark of ultra-precise Mana Control.
‘A monster,’ I thought.
Even before the regression, I’d never encountered an Appraiser like this.
Appraisers typically fall into the artist type, relying on ‘instinct.’
This man, though, was pure engineer—methodical, analytical to the bone.
He didn’t read data. He dissected structure.
“Uh, Hunter?”
Choo Jae-hui ventured carefully.
Behind his glasses, his eyes gleamed with curiosity.
“How are you finding the Dragon Head Sword, if I may ask?”
“Quite well, thank you. The Mana conductivity is excellent.”
“I’m glad. That blade had some twisted internal circuits, so I made a few adjustments—boosted the Mana amplification by about three percent. Can’t say if you’ll notice the difference, though.”
Three percent tuning.
Easy to say, but touching the circuits of an already-perfected artifact was riskier than defusing a bomb.
And he’d mentioned it as casually as ordering tea.
“If you have time later, would you leave the sword with me? I think I can boost the response speed further by adjusting the rune configuration slightly.”
“I’d be grateful for that.”
I almost whistled under my breath.
Now I understood why Kim Dae-han had called him a ‘treasure.’
How had talent like this slipped past every major Guild scout and ended up stashed in a rooftop office?
I’d have to ask Kim Dae-han about it later.
“Your desk is here.”
Kim Dae-han led me to the innermost corner of the office, by the window.
Prime real estate—or exile, depending on your perspective.
I came to stand before my assigned desk.
……
I nearly sighed aloud.
An LCD monitor—at least a thin one—sat on the desktop, but its bezel had yellowed with age.
The tower emitted a shrill whining from its fan.
The sound of a cooler crying out in its final moments.
[Asset Number: G City Hall-2015-0824]
A sticker on the tower’s side. 2015.
Ten-year-old junk.
Opening a single browser window on this thing would take the time to drink a cup of coffee.
My phone was faster.
The phone was even worse.
A rotary landline with a red sticker marked [For Public Inquiries].
The handset cord was twisted and kinked, and grime had accumulated between the buttons.
The desktop surface gleamed at first glance, polished to a shine, but closer inspection revealed peeling varnish and raised grain beneath.
“What do you think? I even stayed late yesterday to wax it down.”
Kim Dae-han asked with evident pride.
I ran a finger across the desk’s edge.
No dust.
But time’s wear and tear—that can’t be erased.
“It’s spotless. Thank you.”
I nodded politely, though I’d be cleaning it again myself.
“Ah, and this is a special bonus.”
Kim Dae-han gestured proudly to one corner.
The tea station alcove.
Next to an old refrigerator sat something gleaming with a polish that caught the light.
A state-of-the-art Espresso Machine.
Silver, imposing, worth more than everything else in this office combined.
“Out of my own pocket. I heard you liked real coffee, so I splurged.”
……
This man defied all logic.
He’d assigned me a ten-year-old relic for a work computer, yet somehow found the means to buy a machine that looked like it belonged in a department store.
What kind of priorities were those?
“I like it. I’ll enjoy it.”
I smiled and set my bag down on the desk.
At least it’s not instant coffee.
The only thing in this cramped, shabby office that he actually liked.
“Let’s have some coffee.”
***
Kim Dae-han prepared the coffee with practiced ease.
A rich crema sat atop the Americano.
The aroma was surprisingly excellent.
We sat across from each other at the narrow conference table.
The chair creaked beneath me.
“Well, now that you’re officially a team member, I should give you a proper briefing.”
Kim Dae-han’s eyes grew serious.
The playfulness vanished, replaced by the bearing of a veteran.
“The Ability Management Team. Sounds impressive on paper, but really we’re the cleanup crew.”
A bitter smile crossed his face.
“Gates large and small open constantly across G City. The big ones, the lucrative dungeons—the private guilds circle those like sharks. The problem is everything else.”
What we called the “shit gates.”
Places with low Mana Stone yields, or monsters too troublesome for the profit to make sense.
Or the anomalies that arise from residual Mana even after a gate closes.
Our team’s primary job was sweeping up the garbage the guilds wouldn’t touch.
“No budget, no staff. Current combat strength is exactly four—that’s including you. Before you arrived, we had nothing but E-Rank and F-Rank operators.”
It was pathetic.
No wonder the mayor had practically bowed to me.
Before I came, this team was standing against a hurricane with a single broom.
“What if an Elite Monster emerges from a gate?”
“Then… we beg.”
Kim Dae-han said it with grim self-mockery.
He gestured with his chin toward a stack of papers piled in one corner of the table.
[Request for Operational Support – Rejected], [Support Unavailable Notice].
Scraps of paper stamped in red.
“We send official requests to nearby guilds, make calls, plead for assistance. Most of the time they refuse because it won’t turn a profit. While we’re pushing paper, they’re already reaching for their calculators. ‘The numbers don’t work,’ ‘We don’t have the manpower’… the excuses never end.”
His fist clenched tight.
His knuckles drained white.
“Meanwhile, citizens live in fear, the damage spreads. All we could do was throw up perimeter tape and watch.”
Helplessness.
That was what had been crushing Kim Dae-han and this team.
“But that’s different now.”
He lifted his gaze to meet mine.
His eyes had strength in them.
“Because you’re here. Now we don’t have to beg anymore. We can handle it ourselves. We can protect our people ourselves.”
I took a sip of coffee.
The hot liquid traced down my throat.
“But you didn’t call me in just for cleanup work.”
“Of course not.”
Kim Dae-han lowered his voice.
He pulled a folded map from his pocket and spread it across the table.
A map of G City.
Red-ink coordinates marked various points across it.
“This isn’t official business. It’s the real purpose of our team… or rather, my real purpose.”
He pointed to a location on the map.
“Intelligence gathering. Specifically, tracking down traces connected to artificial gates.”
Artificial Gates.
And the collusion between the Gate Management Bureau and the Cult.
Kim Dae-han was already onto the scent.
“Based on my investigation, several D-Rank Gate coordinates that were supposedly closed recently have shown anomalous readings. They’re marked as destroyed in the Bureau’s records.”
“Cooking the books.”
“Someone is secretly maintaining those gates. Either cultivating something or hiding it.”
Kim Dae-han’s eyes turned sharp and cutting.
“I’ll handle the fieldwork. As for you, Do-jin…”
Bang!
That was when it happened.
The office door swung open violently.
Choo Jae-hui nearly dropped the orb in shock.
A man walked in.
Red hair swept back in a slicked style, a striking figure.
Dressed in a leather jacket and ripped jeans, he sauntered through the entrance with casual arrogance.
‘What the—’
His appearance clashed entirely with the atmosphere of this place.
Like a single figure painted in full color in an otherwise black-and-white film, utterly incongruous.
With each step, the sound of chains clinked and a metallic stench wafted through the air.
The smell of old blood, and gunpowder.
He began holding his access badge up to the terminal around his neck.
Beep. Beep-beep.
The device wasn’t recognizing it properly, and his irritation showed plainly before curses spilled out.
“Damn it! Piece of shit! Total garbage!”
Smack!
He struck the terminal once, tagged it again, and the door slid open.
He shuffled forward casually, then collapsed onto the sofa with a heavy thud.
Dust billowed up around him.
Headset pulled over his ears, he stared at the ceiling without moving.
Kim Dae-han greeted him lightly.
“Tae-hwa’s here?”
But the man already buried in the sofa showed no response whatsoever.
I studied him quietly.
His face wasn’t unfamiliar.
Scars visible dimly through gaps in the leather jacket.
A mouth curved in a slight, easy smile.
His eyes hidden behind sunglasses, yet an intense presence radiated from him all the same.
Like a beast caged in a narrow enclosure, suppressed bloodlust pressed down heavy on the air.
My body went rigid in an instant.
Before I could even think why, his name escaped my lips.
“···Hong Tae-hwa?”
Memories from before the regression flooded back into my mind.
Before the regression—a name that alone shook hunter society.
He had far fewer tattoos than then, but it was unmistakably him.
Alias: the Raging Demon.
An uncontrollable rogue hunter, Hong Tae-hwa.
He was here now, right before my eyes.

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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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