If you just try to muscle your way through a fight like this with no finesse, you won't stand a chance. I moved the spearhead smoothly, minimizing the force I took and letting their attacks slide past me.
"Spear's great for this kind of fight and all…"
Dealing with multiple enemies at once isn't hard. Keep the right distance and thrust to deal a fatal blow to a specific target, or swing it to strike several at once.
The problem is space. On a ship—this cramped—your spear keeps snagging on everything.
"In that case, I might as well."
I should probably take one down quickly and switch weapons. I flared the Paradox Hellflame at the spear's tip and focused on one of the charging corpses.
"I can see it all, asshole."
A corpse balancing atop the mast, which looked like it might snap at any moment, fired a damp-looking matchlock. The bullet bounced off my spear tip and lodged itself in another corpse's skull.
From the hole in the bloated corpse's head, a dark green, viscous fluid oozed out. A truly nauseating sight.
"Mind if I borrow that?"
I rushed the corpse with the hole in its head, gripping the spear short and igniting the Paradox Hellflame as I pummeled it. In an instant, its body collapsed, engulfed in flames.
Seizing the opening, I snatched the cutlass it had been holding. With a spear in one hand and a cutlass in the other, I swept across the deck.
"Whew."
I glanced over at Han Sang-ah, who had moved onto another ship. She was fighting pretty well.
"She learns fast."
Clumsy, but she was following the advice I'd given earlier on deck. A short, decisive fight. With a flash, her blade leapt from its scabbard and took a corpse's head clean off.
Stretching out a hand wrapped in black flames, I burned away the head of a lunging ghost and shouted,
"You're using too much strength—control it a bit more!"
Just enough power to overwhelm the opponent and take their head in an instant—that's all you need. Unlike me, Han Sang-ah has to wring maximum efficiency out of her limited mana.
I can tell she's trying, but there's still a fair bit of wasted power.
"Got it—uh."
"Or, if anything, use more power for now and take out several at once!"
She can practice lowering output later. Right now, it's better to crank it up and cut through multiple enemies at once.
"Oh."
For that moment, I was honestly impressed. After hesitating at my shout, Han Sang-ah chose my first piece of advice over the second. A carefully controlled slash plummeted through the air, cleaving a diving ghost clean through the waist.
The distribution of power was far cleaner than before. As I knocked away the attacks of corpses and ghosts with spear and sword, I admired her progress inwardly.
She's the kind of person worth teaching.
Han Sang-ah's eyes turned toward me. And then—
"Well, look at that."
She was trying desperately to copy me. More specifically, the way I was blocking the corpses' attacks.
In the end, every attack follows a set trajectory, and along that path there's a point where it begins to exert its maximum force.
If you read the trajectory the moment the attack is launched and intercept it before it reaches peak power, you can stop a powerful blow with surprisingly little effort.
"Hey, don't do anything stupid!"
I know she's ambitious, but this isn't a technique she can use successfully yet.
If her senses aren't sharp enough and she forces it, she'll get badly hurt.
At my warning, Han Sang-ah clamped her mouth shut, then obediently stopped imitating me.
"Focus on what you're trying right now. Don't go trying something else when you haven't even digested that yet."
After that, I finished off all the ghosts and corpses on the ship, then jumped to another vessel and repeated the process.
Deflect, evade, block the attack at the very moment it's launched. And whenever an opening appeared, I struck swiftly, turning corpses back into corpses once more.
After we finished dealing with all the ships, Han Sang-ah wore an expression that clearly said she wasn't satisfied. While she had handled the corpses and ghosts on a single ship, I'd smashed three.
We cleaned up the last one together.
"Keep at it."
At my words, Han Sang-ah clenched her fist.
"Thanks for the advice."
"There are more than enough people in this world who can't even make use of advice when it's given."
She replied to that.
"At the Academy, there weren't many people who gave me advice. Is that weird?"
"What are you talking about? The Academy is a place to learn."
If no one's going to offer guidance, what's the point of attending? At my answer, Han Sang-ah continued,
"They say it annoys them because I learn too fast."
I realized the unspoken implication beneath her words and let out an incredulous laugh.
"Don't tell me—you think that if I give you advice, you might end up stronger than me someday?"
"I learn really fast."
Ah, right. People usually call that having great aptitude.
"Cute."
I almost felt sorry enough to pat her on the head. For her to catch up to me, she'd have to be reborn twice over while keeping her memories.
"That's not going to happen, so don't worry."
"Hearing you say that makes me feel really bad."
What can I do? It's the truth. Even if Han Sang-ah sucked me dry down to the marrow, nothing would change. After finishing off the ghost ships, we returned to our own vessel.
"Could you continue cooperating with us?"
At my question, the man steering the ship swallowed.
"I'm not forcing you."
I could easily imagine how terrified the people helping us must be right now.
"We can. No—we have to."
With that resolve, the ship moved forward once more. Tsushima Island was close now. And the protective sigil I'd carved earlier was still holding.
"If everything goes smoothly, I'll contact you again."
Even if ghost ships attacked once more, as long as the protection held, they'd be able to escape safely and wait at Geoje Island.
"How long do you think it'll take?"
As I set down the supplies we'd brought, I answered,
"Honestly, I don't know."
I'm under a time limit myself, so I plan to hurry as much as possible—but it's a Grade-2 Corrosion Source. The internal scale alone is on a different level, so I can't give a definite answer right now.
For now, we've prepared enough supplies to last about a month, so we should finish within that window. If that turns out to be impossible, these people will have to deliver supplies to us again.
"Understood. Then we'll stand by."
The coast guard boarded their ship and departed. Han Sang-ah and I faced the fog-shrouded island of Tsushima.
"Maybe we should establish a base first. Using that protective sigil you used earlier?"
"We can secure a place to stay."
And unlike Gyodong Island, we're not planning to travel far.
"This is Hitakatsu Port, right?"
There's a small lodging about a minute away on foot. We can move supplies quickly, and there's a good chance at least basic bedding is still there, so we decided to use it as our base.
"Can't that protective sigil be engraved on weapons?"
I shook my head. Even if you engrave it, it's meaningless. The protective sigil only works if its exact specifications are followed. If its size is even 10% larger or smaller than the prescribed dimensions, its effectiveness is cut in half.
While Han Sang-ah moved the supplies, I completed the protective sigil at the location we'd chosen as our base.
By the time she finished carrying everything over, the sigil was complete. I quietly surveyed the fog blanketing the island.
"I think they've noticed."
Sounds came from beyond the fog. Something was roaming around nearby. I couldn't be sure how many there were.
There would be ghosts that made almost no noise, after all. Tsushima—Daemado. This island had become land ruled by dead bodies and wandering spirits.
"No gas, no electricity… still, at least communications are working."
The smartphones used by hunters operated on satellite communications in regions like this.
I sent a message asking whether calls were possible to the contact number I'd previously received for the Association President, then placed the call.
— Hunter Yoo Chan-seok.
"Sorry for contacting you out of the blue."
There wasn't some grand reason for calling. The last time the Association President and I met, it hadn't exactly ended on the best note.
"I've arrived on Tsushima."
— Yes, I heard you accepted a request. You went to rescue captured fishermen, didn't you?
The fact that it had already been reported to the Association President meant I was definitely drawing a lot of attention.
In a situation like this, my movements were probably being reported to Yoon Seong-hyeon as well.
"Officially, that's what people think."
That was why it had been announced that I was going to rescue captured fishermen, not to eliminate a Grade-2 Corrosion Source.
— Officially? What do you mean by that?
"I plan to deal with the Grade-2 Corrosion Source on Tsushima."
Laughter spilled out in response.
— You seem to be overestimating your own abilities.
From the Association President's perspective, it must have sounded ridiculous. Here I was, talking about taking down a Grade-2 Corrosion Source—not even a Grade-3—on only my second hunt.
"The reason I'm telling you this in advance is that I think you'll have a lot of things you can do once Tsushima's Grade-2 Corrosion Source is eliminated."
I continued speaking without regard for his reaction. And this part was important.
"Do you think Japan still effectively controls Tsushima Island?"
To be more precise, was this Tsushima Island I was standing on even Japanese territory anymore? That was what my question implied.
— …
Of course not. There was no electricity or gas, everyone had evacuated, and it had become a deserted island. No one came, and no one lived here. Japan had abandoned Tsushima.
The reason was the Grade-2 Corrosion Source that had descended upon this land.
"From what I understand, Japan is barely managing to defend what it calls its mainland."
Five Grade-2 Corrosion Sources, two Grade-1s, and countless Grade-3 and unranked ones besides.
They were barely hanging on by requesting hunters from Korean companies, which meant they had no capacity to care about a remote corner like Tsushima Island.
— So what, you're suggesting we try to incorporate it into Korean territory?
"Even just going through the motions would give Japan a lot it wants to say."
And whatever Japan wanted to say couldn't take the form of coercion or threats. Japan abandoning Tsushima had been its own decision, not the result of external pressure.
On top of that, no matter who said otherwise, Korea was a modern superpower.
"If I succeed in eliminating Tsushima's Grade-2 Corrosion Source, what grounds would Japan have to reclaim ownership of the island?"
It wouldn't be impossible to argue—but Korea would have plenty to say about Tsushima's ownership as well. If Korea decided to push the issue, the day might come when Tsushima was once again called Daemado.
— From Korea's perspective, it doesn't really matter whether it has one more island or not.
"Then we could use that as leverage to extract something else."
And if anyone was prepared to plan for and execute something like that, it would be the Association President—someone with connections to the right people.
— And if you fail?
"What would you lose?"
It was true that I didn't like getting entangled with politics. But strictly speaking, this wasn't really that. I was just doing my job, and the Association President might reap a little benefit along the way.
You only get involved in politics when you put your own face out front. And besides—
— What do you want in return?
I wanted nothing from him in exchange for this information.
"Nothing at all. Korea and Japan have a very delicate relationship."
Japan wasn't even paying attention to Dokdo anymore. They knew perfectly well that poking Korea over it would gain them nothing.
But every Korean remembered the long-standing tensions and endless disputes surrounding that island.
If I could make use of the national sentiment built up through that history in a way that benefited me, there was no reason not to, was there?