Hunter Corps Training Camp — 4
Even in protective suits, this was training against vicious monsters.
Nine out of ten recruits did nothing but turtle up, letting the beasts gnaw away at their suits.
But Kim Min-jun showed not a hint of fear before the Hounds; if anything, the pressure he gave off made the others tuck their tails.
"Eyes up! Hold your positions properly!"
"Y-yessir!"
After dropping one Hound, Kim Min-jun shouted at his buddies to get their heads on straight.
"Quit backing off and charge! The more you retreat, the more they look down on you!"
If it weren't for him, the remaining two Hounds would've rushed them already.
If that happened, their formation would collapse in seconds and leave a gaping hole in the line.
"If this were the real thing, two of you would be dead. The front rank needs to pressure the monsters so they can't jump in on a whim!"
"R-right! Understood!"
"Dude, we're peers—drop the honorifics!"
"Sorry!"
Tough words, yes—but he pointed out the flaws and told them exactly how to fix them.
"That guy… is he really a recruit?"
"You mean Kim Min-jun? Yes… he is."
"What, did a Hunter Corps sergeant wake up the day before enlistment back in his old body or something?"
"…That only happens in novels, sergeant."
The assistant instructors clicked their tongues at the change he'd sparked.
Ordinarily these recruits would've earned penalty marks.
But under the command of a fellow recruit, they were dropping Hounds faster than any squad so far.
"Mark those ones 'High,' and put Kim Min-jun at 'Top.'"
"Agreed."
Once the situation ended, the instructors started toward the recruits.
All that remained was to exit the dungeon with the last squad and report to the platoon leader—then the class would be done.
"Four nights, five days off starting tomorrow. You don't get perks like this outside Hunter school."
"Got plans, Corporal Kim Ho-jun?"
"Why—looking to grab a drink?"
They were mid-banter when—
Drrrrrrr—
A sinister rumble shook the dungeon like an earthquake.
"Damn it… radio it in before the gate collapses! Move!"
"Y-yes!"
They fumbled out their radios and filed an emergency report.
Kim Min-jun's buddies also panicked at the sudden turn.
"Hey, what is this? Weren't we done?"
They looked to him for answers.
"This is a shifting dungeon. It's the open type. Think of it like a door that was open just… closing."
Calm as ever.
The recruits clutched their heads as the entrance sealed over in an instant.
"How is this even real?"
"Right when we finish the Hounds, it flips to a closed type?"
This place had trained countless Hunter recruits.
Instructors and nearby base officers popped in and out like a gym after hours.
In other words, it was a safe dungeon with practically no variables.
"Corporal Kim Ho-jun! No good—the dungeon shifted too fast."
"Comms are dead?"
"Completely!"
"Round them up, now!"
Confirming they were cut off from the outside, the instructors gathered the recruits.
"As you've probably noticed, we've had a variable inside the dungeon," Corporal Kim Ho-jun said, face unreadable.
"Per the manual, we hold here for one hour. If the entrance hasn't changed after that, we move forward."
In a closed dungeon, there's only one way out:
Exterminate every last monster inside.
There is one exception—when an open dungeon shifts to closed.
In that case, sometimes waiting brings it back to open.
Six recruits with no real combat and two instructors…
And the instructors were here to supervise, not to fight.
They weren't even properly kitted.
Meet the wrong monster and it's over.
In a variable dungeon, you never know what will spawn.
"Everyone, we're moving. Form up."
An hour later, the entrance still hadn't budged.
Corporal Kim Ho-jun led them deeper into the dungeon.
"Ugh… perfect. Last day of training and this crap happens?"
"If goblins show up we're all dead."
Tense, the recruits tailed the instructors.
There's a smell… familiar, even.
Kim Min-jun sniffed. He'd caught that scent back in Isgard.
"Comms still dead?"
"Nothing. No signal at all."
"You think you can handle a goblin bare-handed?"
"…Without gear? Hard."
"What a screwed-up situation."
Up front, the instructors swore under their breath.
Without a main weapon, this is rough.
Even for Corporal Kim Ho-jun, dropping a single goblin without his weapon would take over ten minutes.
The kids behind us have protective suits, but it's only a matter of time.
The suits were for training—purely defensive.
They didn't help much with actually killing monsters.
And they were insanely heavy; stamina drained fast.
No way we use them as meat shields.
The suits' protection was excellent.
If he pushed the recruits to the front, survival odds went up—but he just couldn't.
These were kids who'd gutted through that hellish regimen.
He'd cleared countless dungeons and made corporal—what, and now he'd stick raw recruits on point?
Absolutely not.
His conscience wouldn't allow it.
As Kim Ho-jun shook his head and moved to take the lead—
"Gk—!"
"Urk!"
—he collapsed foaming at the mouth, and the instructor beside him went down as well.
"Instructor!"
"Are you okay, sir?!"
The recruits reflexively rushed toward them.
"Fall back! Any closer and you'll drop just like they did."
Sizing it up in an instant, Kim Min-jun grabbed his buddies by the shoulders and shoved them back.
Once he'd pushed them more than thirty meters away, he sprinted forward.
So—ma-gi, huh?*
That familiar stench—of course it was ma-gi.
You're not getting away this time.
He told the instructors to wait with the others near the entrance, then vanished into the depths.
"Hey—are you crazy?!"
"Get back here! There's a training manual!"
"Kim Min-jun! You're gonna get yourself killed!"
His buddies shouted, trying to haul him back.
He only grinned wider and picked up speed.
**
Kim Min-jun followed the thickening trail of ma-gi.
At this distance and the instructors still blacked out?
Judging by the density, this wasn't a run-of-the-mill monster.
In Isgard, most monsters carried ma-gi, but Earth was different.
They said they show up now and then at frontline bases…
Maybe once a month.
At most one or two.
A monster suffused with ma-gi was that rare.
Which makes it a treasure for me.
For ordinary humans, the moment ma-gi seeps into the body they seize up and faint.
Same for people in Isgard, actually.
They fought under special blessings that blocked ma-gi, while priests contained the fallout.
"…What are you?"
Moments later, he found the culprit—and his face twisted in disbelief.
"Grrrr…"
"What are you doing here?"
Because standing there was a monster you'd only expect to see in Isgard: a Dark Hound.
Hound vs. Dark Hound.
Add one word to the front and the power gap becomes a chasm.
Regular Hounds are fair game for trained recruits.
The black ones take several seasoned Hunter soldiers working together.
"Can't stand you mutts… and yet, nice to see you. I've been needing some ma-gi."
In his first year after being summoned to Isgard, he'd lived through hell.
Back then he couldn't handle ma-gi; killing a single black dog meant staking his life.
"SKREEE!"
The Dark Hound bared its jaws to strike—
"Why do you never learn?"
Already reading its move, Min-jun kicked off and launched forward.
From wind-up to lunge, a Dark Hound needs about three seconds.
Plenty of time for him.
"Grrk."
He reached it in one second, clamped its scruff, and ripped.
Black blood geysered as the beast died.
Ssssss—
At the same time, the ma-gi caged within began to leak, flooding the dungeon air.
"Still filthy as ever."
Smirking, Min-jun drew the thickening ma-gi into himself.
He raised a hand; the drifting smoke bent midair and poured into his body.
That's what makes Dark Hounds a pain:
When they die, they belch ma-gi.
"And the blood stinks to high heaven."
Worse, Dark Hound blood is toxic.
If a normal person gets drenched, their skin starts rotting within three days.
So in Isgard, they killed Dark Hounds at range and had priests block the outflow.
"Whew. Been a while since I took ma-gi in—feels like the power's pumping back."
This one held a hefty amount for a Dark Hound.
If his body were a phone battery, he'd just gone from 0% to about 5%.
"But why is this thing on Earth?"
Charging up at an unexpected time was great, but running into a Dark Hound here felt wrong.
Sure, it could have spawned from the dungeon—but there were no records of Dark Hounds ever appearing on Earth.
"No. Monsters hopping dimensions? That makes no sense."
Unless you were a peak Black Mage like him—or a saint wielding divine power—dimension travel was impossible. Too advanced, too many constraints.
He decided not to overthink it and hefted the carcass.
"If I'm going to report this, I'll need the body."
With all the ma-gi drained, the Dark Hound now looked no different from a regular Hound.
**
At the same time—
Near the dungeon entrance, the instructors who'd been sprawled out began to stir.
"Gah!"
"I feel like death. You lot—everyone okay?"
The moment before he passed out flashed back; Corporal Kim Ho-jun whipped his head around, checking on the recruits.
Thankfully, aside from the instructors, everyone seemed fine.
"Instructor… but, uh…"
"But what?"
"Kim Min-jun went deeper into the dungeon."
"…What?"