Monsters cannot be dissected.

Because of that, humans don’t know what structural makeup monsters have, how they see, perceive, or make decisions.

The only tool humans have is repeated observation and speculation—but even so, humanity, with its tenacious grit, has managed to establish several hypotheses about monster cognition systems.

At the very least, it’s certain that they don’t possess organs like eyes, noses, or mouths—those common to higher organisms on Earth.

Types like Necromancer or Dancer, the early ones, have heads, but within those heads, you can’t find vital organs like eyes or mouths—organs directly tied to survival.

Because of this, scholars argued that a monster’s head was more like an ornamental structure—like a horn. But we Hunters, who fight on the frontlines, often claim otherwise: even so, the head remains a more critical target than other areas.

There are monsters that appear to have eye-like structures.

The Executioner-type that just brushed past me had dull, achromatic tissues attached near where eyes would be. Nemesis-types, too, carried something eye-like—distinct from the surrounding matte gray-white tissues.

In any case, appearance aside, one widely accepted hypothesis has long dominated the discussion of monster perception.

According to it, monsters perceive the world in a way completely different from us.

I agree with that hypothesis, though I can't say for certain how monsters actually see the world.

In Japan, there was a theory that monsters could sense human hostility—since they tended to recognize and attack humans who were hostile or intended to be. But infiltrator-types dealt ruthless punishment to anyone who entered their territory, without exception. And some monsters attacked humans for no apparent reason.

That Japanese theory was quickly criticized and disappeared.

One thing is clear: monsters do not perceive the world visually.

They lack visible eye organs, and I’ve never once felt like one was watching something with focused attention.

As the number of low-level Awakened increased and field deployments became more common, we began to get a slightly better grasp on how monsters perceive the world.

This is especially thanks to what we call sensory abilities.

These individuals can sense every living thing within a certain range.

Not see—sense. That’s key.

A study that stirred debate in France involved a blind high-level sensory Awakened. Despite complete blindness, they could detect living organisms and reach them without any aid, simply by sensing.

At the time, it wasn’t widely publicized, but among experienced scholars like myself, it became known that Awakened abilities are functionally indistinguishable from those of monsters—possibly even mirror images of them.

If we accept this theory, then the Executioner-type just now passed me because—it didn’t recognize me.

To be more precise: it didn’t sense me.

Though “didn’t see” is more intuitive, so I’ll use that phrasing for now.

The Executioner-types found in Jeju long ago were reclassified multiple times—from infiltrator to combat, then from combat to extinction-type.

It’s clear: these things don’t just walk past humans.

The one that ignored me headed directly toward Kim So-uk’s warehouse—the nearest structure.

“One monster is heading your way right now. Yes. Executioner-type. Ah—‘shotgun.’ Yes. Don’t touch anything. Just get everyone in the car and leave. It’ll be gone in 48 hours at most.”

Unlike before, monsters have become familiar enough to civilians that even those without combat experience refer to them by simplified, user-friendly nicknames.

The Executioner-type, which rapid-fires shotgun-like projectiles from two hardpoints, has already earned the nickname Shotgun—a terrifying name among scavengers and anyone who operates outside the walls.

VROOOOOM—

Kim So-uk’s men were fleeing in a panic.

To make sure, I radioed in.

“Everyone’s out, right?”

“Yes! Damn it! That bastard—where the hell did it come from? Don’t tell me, that egg?!”

“Yeah, I almost died too. Just get somewhere safe. Don’t worry about the warehouse. I repeat—Shotguns don’t build nests. It’ll leave on its own.”

I checked the jeep’s condition.

Suspension might be a little off, but—

VRRRRRR—

As the wheels spun hard during idle, it seemed to be working fine.

As expected from American manufacturing.

It guzzles gas, but it’s built like a tank.

I grabbed the rifle from the back.

CLACK—

Then I fixed my gaze on the Executioner-type slowly trudging toward the warehouse.

“......”

Leaving it alone might ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) be the smarter move.

I just survived a crisis with a nearly 99% chance of death. I could go somewhere safe, have a drink, share a war story—or bury my head under the covers and try to sleep off the fear.

But before I’m Park Gyu or Skelton, I’m the Professor.

People always wondered what allowed me to become the Professor. Some even tried to steal it. But they all failed.

They speculated it was natural talent, rigorous self-discipline, or even something in my DNA.

They were wrong.

What drives me even now is the fire of hatred that still burns in my chest—but just as powerful is a pathological curiosity I’ll never be rid of.

I call it pathological, but in truth, it may just be rational.

As I said before, monsters can’t be dissected. They’re unexplainable by nature. Observation is our only path to understanding.

BRRRRRRR—

I started the engine and stared at the monster.

Especially the distance.

Executioner-types, unlike some others, are said not to have reflective shields.

When I took one down before, I never saw it deploy anything like a reflection barrier.

Instead, it uses a different form of defensive field—probably more energy-efficient and lower-tier—but considering how reflective shields induce massive psychological stress in humans, it's actually an easier target.

I raised the gun and pulled the trigger toward the monster.

BANG!

Naturally, I made the first shot a traditional intimidation tactic.

Just because consensus says these things lack reflective shields doesn’t mean I’ll blindly believe that. If I’m wrong, I’d be the first to die.

The monster didn’t respond.

No shockwave. No reaction.

It just kept walking slowly and heavily toward Kim So-uk’s fleeing crew.

“......”

Two conclusions:

No reflective shield.

No reaction to gunfire.

Then how about this?

I hooked a leg on the driver’s seat and turned, aiming my rifle backward.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three-round burst.

Impact zone: the monster’s torso.

At this distance, I couldn’t hear the impact or see any visible sign of the hits, but the rounds definitely landed.

The monster stopped walking toward the warehouse.

CLUNK!

I slammed my foot on the gas.

BOOM!

A heavy explosion erupted behind me.

SHHHRRRK—

A terrible gust of wind followed.

POP! POP!

Shrapnel tore through the surroundings, ripping at the living world.

I checked the monster through the rearview mirror.

No doubt.

It was looking directly at me—seeing me—as it raised its gun barrel.

VROOOOOOM—

Inside the accelerating vehicle, the monster in the mirror shrank and vanished.

“......”

I brought the vehicle to a stop.

Another curiosity stirred.

The desire to kill that thing.

But not yet.

I understand their mechanics now.

When monsters die, they dissolve into beautiful glowing particles—those particles carry information.

Which means I won’t give myself to them just yet.

Not my information.

*

On a macroscopic level, Seoul is drying up.

The future holds little but collapse.

And yet, as of now, the city still staggers forward.

Rations have shrunk, food quality has dropped, and complaints and grievances are spreading—but people still believe this city will keep going, just like always.

That belief, though, likely stems not from facts but from vague hope.

But the reality I faced was... slightly different.

“Oh my, Commander Park Gyu, you’re really transferring this wonderful property? Wow. You don’t find a royal-tier listing like this every day.”

The buyer was “Minsik,” newly appointed to the Citizens’ Committee alongside Kim Daram.

Leader of the largest scavenger group in Seoul, he looked a bit better than before.

How should I put it—he had that oily glow of a middle-aged man who’s found his confidence.

“Some circumstances came up. Resources are a little tight.”

“Well, I suppose that can’t be helped. If Commander Park Gyu is willing to let us have such a fine listing, then paying a premium would be the least we could do to repay the favors you’ve granted us.”

Minsik offered another reason why this doomed city continued to feel so eerily peaceful.

“Still, it’s a shame. You could’ve sold this for a much higher price.”

Greed.

Even in an age of ruin, human greed doesn’t die.

Koreans have always craved good housing. That those homes equate to enormous wealth has been proven time and again in our history.

Rather than focusing on the storm to come, they stare at the breeze of fortune that might arrive before it.

“What? You sold that prime unit for just 1.2 million credits? Are you insane? You should’ve sold it to me!”

Even my junior Kim Daram isn’t free from that impulse.

She, too, was born and raised a first-class citizen, molded by generational traditions and beliefs.

“That thing... sigh. You could’ve gotten 2.5 million credits easy. You should’ve talked to me first!”

Her complaints—well.

To me, they’re a kind of comfort.

One day, this city will fall. But for now, it won’t collapse overnight.

Until the grotesque bird of greed is startled and takes flight, this city can pretend the reality hasn’t arrived yet.

In fact, the roads along the Han River are filled with people lining up for a shot at new apartment registrations.

“...Daram.”

With a faint smirk, I looked at her.

“What?”

“You got any money right now?”

“I don’t!”

I’m more certain than ever:

For now, Seoul will survive.

A small but meaningful discovery.

*

“So... that’s how it was.”

Na Hye-in looked much better than the last time we met.

Was it the release from endless combat?

She didn’t speak much.

Neither did I, really—so our little reunion tea party was mostly filled with silence.

But it didn’t feel awkward or burdensome.

Sitting together in that white house on the hill, watching the Incheon sea... It felt—sorry to Woo Min-hee—quite peaceful.

“Hey.”

Na Hye-in spoke up, sipping her tea.

“How’s Min-hee?”

“Woo Min-hee?”

“Yeah.”

Her gaze drifted aside.

It’s well known they were close as senior and junior, but now I understand.

Their relationship held far more complicated history than it appeared.

The fact that these once-close friends, though both living in relatively accessible Seoul and Incheon, hardly interacted at all—it says plenty.

“She seems okay, more or less.”

I hesitated a little, but being honest was better.

“She’s still unstable. I’d say... fragile.”

“Figures.”

Na Hye-in exhaled, set down her teacup, and stared at the sea—glittering like a cascade of beads.

“...She’s already been called once.”

Looking at the same sea, I asked,

“You mean... she became a monster?”

“Almost.”

Na Hye-in smiled faintly and tapped her temple.

“Almost like a full-scale scalping.”

“Really?”

She nodded weakly.

“It must be hard. The only reason she’s still standing... is because she’s Min-hee. Stronger than me. If she wasn’t—she would’ve ended up like Emily. That poor girl.”

I looked straight at her.

As expected, she avoided my gaze.

There’s always one feeling I get when I’m with her.

Distrust.

Not out of hostility.

She simply doesn’t trust me—Park Gyu.

That’s why, even when she carries such heavy burdens, she only shares fragments of information or keeps the truth locked inside.

Just like now.

“Who’s Emily?”

Even when I ask—

“Oh, someone like that. She’s dead now. Sad story.”

She deflects.

Maybe it’s her way of protecting me from getting hurt by Kang Han-min. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

But I think it’s time that changed.

“...Clutching it all to yourself won’t solve anything.”

I kept my eyes on the sea and spoke from my heart.

“To be blunt, I never thought you had the qualities of a leader. Not even back in school.”

Na Hye-in looked at me.

I continued, still staring at the sea.

“You’re like cheap steel. You can deal with things weaker than you, but the moment something stronger comes, you don’t bend—you just snap.”

“Really? If that’s what you think, I won’t argue.”

“When are you going to stop running, Na Hye-in?”

I looked at her directly.

I won’t wait for discovery anymore.

I’ll move—and find it myself.