According to psychoanalysts, most mental disorders arise from the gap between perceived reality and actual reality.

Lee Dong-hyeon was a civilian laborer wearing an S.F.F cap.

I still don’t know what that S.F.F abbreviation stands for, but at the very least, he wasn’t one of the full-time workers wearing an F.O cap.

Yet now, he was wearing an F.O cap and standing among the full-time workers as if it were the most natural thing in the world, staring at me.

I debated whether to call out to him.

First, I re-checked the distance to the monster.

There was still a little time.

I approached the man who looked like Lee Dong-hyeon.

No doubt about it.

He was the same Lee Dong-hyeon who’d been riding on the back of the truck with us.

I asked him:

“You’re Lee Dong-hyeon, right?”

Lee Dong-hyeon nodded.

“Yes. That’s right.”

He smiled.

A chill ran down my spine.

Not just malice—something darker, a creeping, foul sensation welled up from behind that smile and in those eyes.

“......”

Is this really Lee Dong-hyeon?

No—before that, who even is Lee Dong-hyeon?

He was just one of the laborers randomly assigned to the same truck as us.

I’d spoken to him, sure, but our conversation hadn’t been long. I knew next to nothing about him.

I’d taken a liking to him based on vague impressions, but that was a reaction rooted entirely in surface-level details.

I looked away from him.

I walked over to the woman lying prone.

I asked her:

“Did you see?”

No response.

I spoke again.

“We can kill it. You can kill them too if you all work together.”

“......”

“Why are you groveling like dogs in front of such pathetic, weak-ass monsters? ‘This too shall pass’? What if that wind leaves nothing behind this time?”

Still lying down, the woman replied:

“Humans are just one of countless living things.”

My grip on the axe tightened.

I had a bad feeling she was about to start spouting the kind of bullshit I hate most.

Still prone, she babbled on:

“Once mere creatures of nature, humans began to separate themselves from other living things once they formed civilizations. We started calling ourselves ‘lords of creation,’ ‘beings crafted by gods,’ thinking we were different from everything else alive. That was arrogance.”

I hesitated.

Should I just cut her off with my axe?

She continued, sensing my indecision.

“From a distance, we’re no different from dogs or cats. We breathe, eat, reproduce. Humans aren’t special. It might be hard to understand since we’ve always been on top of the food chain—but now, they’re the predators.”

I decided to let it go.

Killing someone like this wouldn’t be righteous—it’d just show my own immaturity.

As the old sages said, better to let those lost in error stay there.

“All we, the ones not chosen by God, can do is endure.”

I ignored her and turned around.

Lee Dong-hyeon was suddenly standing in front of me.

A chill ran through me.

Even though I’d kept my senses razor-sharp, he’d closed the distance and gotten behind me.

My suspicions about this mysterious man grew deeper—and then he opened his mouth.

“Are you thinking of running away?”

I stared at him.

I was.

That female labor leader and I were clearly incompatible—we’d never reach any sort of understanding.

So I’d decided: let the ones who want to die, die. The ones who want to live, live.

I can’t take down all those monsters by myself.

Well—if I went all-out, maybe I could. But why should I?

Why should I risk my life in a place like this?

Thoughts tangled like threads in my brain, unspooling endlessly, and in the middle of that—

Lee Dong-hyeon spoke again.

“If Savior Kang Han-min were here, he’d act differently.”

Something stirred in my chest.

Whether he knew how I felt or not, Lee Dong-hyeon continued calmly.

“If Savior Kang Han-min were here, he’d have defeated that monster without saying a word.”

Why bring up Kang Han-min now?

More importantly—who is Lee Dong-hyeon really?

Why is he here?

I’d asked myself that same question earlier.

But I decided not to dig deeper.

That line of thought was just an extension of the pathological obsession with coherence that the Crack had planted in me.

I nodded.

Yeah.

I already knew the answer.

All the people I loathe most—their thoughts, their circumstances, Kang Han-min, my inferiority complex, the glory I lost, my need for validation...

Strip all those illusions away, and only one thing remains.

A flame burning in silence within me.

A fire of hatred.

Since that day in the dark rain when I lost everything, I’ve had one purpose in life.

Monsters.

To kill the enemies of humanity.

The reason I’m here now is because of that.

Kang Han-min may be a significant figure, but even he is nothing more than a tool—a means to kill more monsters.

My heart cooled into calm clarity.

And in that clarity, a cold fire blazed like a pale light in the darkness.

I stared at the monster horde.

Took a deep breath.

My two axes, always with me in silence, seemed to transmit their presence into the hands gripping them.

For a moment, I saw my younger self flash before my eyes—the days when I first took up an axe and went hunting.

Back then, we didn’t have data, doctrine, or strategy. Hunters’ mortality rates were far higher.

People even joked that the average combat time for a Hunter was ten minutes.

We charged in expecting to die.

All we had was the one burning wish to kill monsters.

The monster approached.

Still unable to see me.

It stopped in front of one of the prone humans.

Its disgusting posture made it look like it was picking its next meal.

The man beneath it flinched.

He could feel it too.

That his fate now hung entirely on the whim of that absurd-looking creature.

But he didn’t run. He couldn’t even rise.

The chains he made for himself had bound him tight.

Step—

I walked past the prone man.

A faint mumbling slipped from his mouth—likely the name of a wife or child.

I stood in front of the monster and glared at it.

Its tentacle danced, then lashed down toward me.

I debated.

Should I dodge—or parry?

Dodging was the safer choice, but if I could parry, I’d have more options.

Besides, monster mass usually correlates with size.

That sickle-like thing looked like a gamble worth taking.

The only issue: speed.

The speed at which that thing lashed down would far exceed any human reflex. I had to anticipate it and counter.

Swiishh——

The curved whip danced, and the hook at the end crashed down toward the man’s back like thunder.

I synced my movement to that fleeting moment, stacked my twin axes together, and swung from the side.

Clang!

Sparks flew.

A numbing shock rang through my arms and body, rattling my balance.

I’d timed it perfectly.

The fact that I didn’t waver any further proved it.

I assessed the situation a beat later.

Tracking the «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» hook’s movement with calculated eyes, not instinct.

There it was.

The hook, which had looked ready to pierce the man’s back, was now recoiling.

Realizing that, I felt adrenaline flood my body.

I can block this monster’s attacks.

I charged.

Rip!

This time, I changed my approach.

I targeted its short, tripod-like legs instead of its thick torso.

Crack!

I struck the thinnest point where the weight concentrated.

Boom!

The hit landed, and the monster convulsed, forming a grotesque eyeball on its torso to search for me.

Whip—!

The hook curved toward me.

I took a step back, watched, waited for the right moment—

Clang!

Deflected it.

With one hand, not two.

Increasing the number of possible variations, I chopped down its legs while it recovered.

Crack! Slash!

Its leg severed.

The monster wobbled, tipping to one side.

Its tentacle, ready to strike again, lost balance along with it.

A strange idea popped into my head.

I dashed forward, grabbed the tentacle midair, and yanked as I landed.

Losing a leg and its balance, the monster toppled over like a giant tree.

Boom!

As it fell, I struck the tentacle pinned under its own body.

It couldn’t do anything now.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

It triggered shockwaves in desperation, but that was all.

Even monsters commit suicide.

Once they’re damaged beyond function, they often dissolve into particles of light.

The Kraken-type did, and so did this one.

Its death throes ended, and it began disintegrating into radiant particles.

I steadied my breath and assessed the battle.

Efficient. Rational.

I could do this as many times as needed.

That thought crossed my mind.

Oh—right. I should give it a name.

No one would know or hear it, but in my own way, I gave it one.

Cripple.

Because it was broken.

“Whoa...”

A soft exclamation came from behind.

It came from the people.

Every drop of blood I shed from these monsters flowed as hope into those emotionless hearts.

Even now, in this seemingly futile battle, that hope gave justification as I charged at the oncoming monsters.

Clang!

Clash.

Rip!

Strike.

Swiish—!

Dodge.

“...Hoo.”

How long had it been?

Since I last focused on a battle like this?

I’d always given it my all against enemies, but this kind of immersion—probably the first since that fight with the Nemesis.

Clang!

The more force my clashes with them brought to my body—

The deeper my axe dug into their tissue—

Swiish—

The more narrowly I dodged death—

“......”

The stronger and sharper I became.

Clang!

I blocked flying attacks, broke their legs, knocked them over, destroyed them—and the more I did, the more I became convinced.

That I was built—designed—to kill monsters.

I’m not like the Awakened.

Specifically, I’m nothing like Kang Han-min.

Of course those questions always rise within, trying to put the brakes on my conviction.

Clang!

But in the trance of battle, those doubts are just faint echoes.

Crack!

I don’t fight as an Awakened—but as a human.

Not one of them—but their enemy.

So I enjoy this moment.

“What the hell is that?”

“Is he human?”

“He’s not just fighting one monster—he’s taking on a bunch...”

I heard the voices of the humans.

Apparently, the blood I spilled had soaked deep enough into their hearts to restore some humanity.

In this fight with not even a moment’s rest, my bones and tendons screamed for relief—but I faced the four monsters glaring at me with hideous eyes and twitching tentacles.

Clang!

The trance of battle engulfed me again.

Thought ceased. Only action flowed.

It only eased once I’d taken down three of the four.

A voice—like one from a dream—echoed near my ear.

“That’s the Professor.”

Was it Lee Dong-hyeon?

No.

That voice was—

“...The best of the best. A legend among Hunters. Golden Fleece. It turned to rags later, but back when he received it, it was the most honorable mark.”

No doubt.

“He always claimed to be average, but we all knew. No Hunter surpassed him. The one I could never reach.”

Kang Han-min.

I turned around.

The first thing I saw was a noticeable change.

Not a single person was still lying down—they were all standing and watching me.

Even the old woman who’d preached that bullshit earlier.

Clang!

Without even looking, I deflected the hook flying at me with one hand and glared at Lee Dong-hyeon’s direction.

He stood with his arms crossed, smiling.

I turned back and charged at the monster.

Let’s finish this fight.

Crack!

*

At last, walking upright like a human, I passed by dozens of people.

Among all their gazes, I searched for one pair of eyes only.

“As expected. You’ve changed.”

Lee Dong-hyeon smiled.

“Park Gyu.”

Just as I was about to say something, he vanished like magic—and a man I didn’t know stood there, staring at me in confusion.

I let out a hollow laugh and turned away.

With both axes limp in my hands, I looked around at the sky, the ground, and this deranged world that surrounded me.

Yeah.

Maybe I’d gone mad too—caught in the dream of some lunatic.

“......”

I didn’t think about it too deeply.

There was a commotion behind me. I turned.

People were climbing onto the train.

“What are you doing?! Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”

The old woman was shouting, but a middle-aged man already on the train shouted back:

“He saved our lives! The least we can do is help him!”

It was the man I’d saved.

He pushed at a heavy steel plate with brute strength.

Soon, younger men joined him, helping tilt the metal, and through the gap, the white-haired woman darted in and pulled out a backpack.

I just stood and watched the scene.

John Nae-non climbed up my leg and into my pocket.

I stroked the little guy and watched the people smiling as they approached me.

“...Hoo.”

My limbs throbbed.

Not a good return on investment.

Throughout the whole battle, I’d been acting unlike myself.

Still—

“Thank you!”

“Thank you so much!”

“You saved us!”

“I’ve seen a lot of Hunters, but never anyone like you. You were like a god!”

“Are you even human?”

“Stronger than Skeleton, that’s for sure!”

I chuckled.

Sometimes, a losing deal isn’t so bad.

If it feels good—maybe that’s enough?

People seem to forget—but money isn’t the only human currency.

*

We traveled three more days.

Riding the train the whole time.

Unlike before, when I’d been on edge, this time felt like first-class—an actual sightseeing trip through the Crack.

The train came to a stop.

The middle-aged man approached me.

“This is it.”

In the distance, I saw a sign.

I put on my backpack.

Checked the exoskeleton on my arms and legs.

Then looked at the sign again.

[Hic Sunt Dracones]

It means:

Here be dragons.

The end of the outer rim.