Chapter 197: Retirement (3)
“Despite becoming an S-Class Hunter, there’s not a single donation? It seems you can’t escape the public criticism of being stingy. What do you think?”
I blinked, eyes wide. This topic was completely unexpected.
And in that moment, while it seemed like that reporter was simply sent by the association president to provoke me, there was a strange vibrancy to his face.
One side of his mouth twisted, while his cheekbones rose with a smirk.
What appeared on his face was a clear sneer.
What the heck was Reporter Yang so happy about?
‘An orphanage.’
Then again, seeing that I remained unfazed by such comments, it was clear I was showing my Alphauri roots.
I was aware of the institution where Kim Gi-ryeo was raised, but the notion of donation that the reporter mentioned was something I hadn’t even considered, nor did I plan on ever doing so.
Why would a country support an institution like an orphanage anyway?
To help children who can’t grow on their own out of sympathy? At least that type of logic wouldn’t fly in Alphauri.
Acts that consume resources must have a reason behind them.
Thus, the Alphauri people only tolerated orphans based on the calculation that ‘it’s better for a baby from their homeland to grow up and increase national power than for him to die right now.’
After all, this nation had already gained sufficient benefit just by including young Kim Gi-ryeo in its national statistics.
So why should they repay the money spent on nurturing these kids?
‘Aren’t you ashamed of ignoring your orphanage classmates?’
Furthermore, if they’d criticize for such reasons, it becomes even more incomprehensible.
From the self-serving standpoint of the Alphauri, that mentioned group was merely a stranger.
But if they asked why I didn’t care for them, I’d want to yell back and ask if they gave money to classmates they met in school.
“Wait, Kim Gi-ryeo Hunter was an orphan…?”
“Is this true?”
“Did you really grow up in an institution?”
Unexpectedly, people fixated not on the donation issue I worried about, but rather on another keyword.
They all tuned in at the fact that an S-Class Hunter grew up alone.
To them, it was treasure—a juicy piece of info that could draw views.
In that moment, Reporter Yang, who hadn’t stopped filming me, started with a new line.
“By the way, Hunter Kim Gi-ryeo, you could easily find out your mother is alive by getting a family relationship certificate. Why have you never tried searching for your family after becoming such a famous S-Class Hunter?”
Oh my god.
“Did you intend to keep all the income for yourself even from your biological mother who gave birth to you?”
The shabby-looking man elongated his sentences as if to provoke me further, grinning.
“Please, I beg you to answer. Huh? You suddenly became an S-Class, so you just forgot about it until now, right?”
Silence fell instantly.
I fell silent, my face calming down immediately after hearing the reporter’s words.
But this wasn’t an emotional response or anything. Honestly, if I got down to it, Lee Hwa-young’s situation was merely the business of a stranger who died to an alien.
I simply was left watching the actions of the earthling before me, and gradually, feelings of pity rose inside me, choking me up.
‘This planet is doomed…’
How could a person even ask such a stupid question…?
A being who openly mocks the misfortunes of others for their own joy. If such things mingle, surely the gene pool of Earth is beyond salvation, right?
I gazed with despair at the malice of the planet’s citizens.
As I’ve been saying all along, it seemed this place might follow the same path as Alphauri, so I couldn’t help but express my sadness unconsciously.
“……”
But then—
“Hunter Kim Gi-ryeo! Are you going to stay silent? Please say something—cough!”
Thud!
The reporter, who was vigorously urging for a response, staggered as if he had been hit by a truck.
With a dull sound, blood splattered out, piercing through the skin, along with some extracellular fluid.
Reporter Yang didn’t even grasp the shock he received before collapsing onto the asphalt floor.
Crack. Thud.
Soon, mysterious transparent shards fell onto the unconscious man.
Those glass-like fragments tumbled endlessly, as if moving on their own in a still painting.
Raising my gaze slowly from watching the reporter’s movements, I noticed a rectangular object at the end of my sight.
A small electronic device cracked like a wide spider web in silvery color.
“Huh.”
It turns out the guy standing next to me, Kang Chang-ho, was the one who had just taken a swing at the reporter while holding the tablet PC he had been fiddling with in his palm.
For reference, what that S-Class Hunter did couldn’t simply be described as ‘he slapped him.’
With that incident, both the reporter’s head and the 7-inch electronic device were smashed together.
Judging by the destroyed state of the tablet, where internal components were clearly visible, it wasn’t hard to infer the condition of the victim.
Blood leaked into the rough surface of the road.
The collapsed reporter lay with a disturbing shade of red showing between his hair, eyes shut.
Seeing that, the onlookers went pale and swallowed hard, and just as silence descended, the one who had been silent until then spoke up.
“Yang Hyung-gu from Jeongsung Daily.”
It was hard to interpret that.
But soon, as he began mumbling while pointing at the surrounding people, I gradually began to catch on.
“And this one here is the SBC newbie, next to her is YTV’s Lee Ji-young, and lastly, the one standing at the end is probably someone named Kim Woo or something—”
Kang Chang-ho, one by one, glanced at the journalists, calling out their names, adding a few comments.
“Anyway, I’ve read the articles you’ve written in the meantime. Actually, I enjoy reading online articles.”
“…”
“But as I observed quietly, strangely, all the journalists gathered here seem to have similar tastes.”
“…”
“[Is it okay for Hunters to act arrogant like this?] [The moral decay of Awakened individuals is severe.] Well, those aren’t very friendly headlines if they don’t have a positive spin on the association, etc.”
A Hunter with the Dragon’s Eye blinked slowly.
Then Kang Chang-ho glanced at the collapsed reporter for a moment before raising his head.
“By the way, aren’t you all taking pictures or what?”
Even at this moment, he was still holding the smashed tablet PC in his right hand, just like how I wouldn’t put down my phone, it was some kind of device he usually carried around.
“I just handed you guys a scoop. Then as journalists, you should cover it.”
Of course, despite that kind offer, the reporters were still frozen with tense expressions.
After a few seconds, one young journalist stumbled and accidentally hit the camera button, causing a bang, and the flash went off.
Yet, Kang Chang-ho remained unfazed by the bursting light, calmly continuing.
“Just a heads up, if you guys do a half-baked job again this time… you’ll probably end up regretting it.”
“Pardon?”
“Don’t hold back on what kind of attitude this man lying down had.”
“W-wait.”
“And it’d be best to avoid reporting too much on private matters. Not everyone here is a high-income earner who can afford to hire a lawyer.”
In simpler terms, it was a warning.
“Be careful.”
The warning indicated that crossing him with just a few words of writing might not end well.
Having left that sentence for the reporters, Kang Chang-ho turned his gaze back down to the fallen individual.
Yet, no matter how much he watched, there was no sign of change.
The reporter, fainted, did not awaken until the ambulance and police car people called for arrived.
*
A Police Station in Seoul.
Thud, thud, thud.
As I stepped down the stairs, the sound of footsteps echoed loudly through the spacious area.
As soon as I reached the lower floor, I quickly realized why it was so quiet here.
Inside a barred half-circle space sat a lone male Awakened.
“Ah, hello there, Hunter Kim Gi-ryeo.”
As I entered the detention cell, the staff inside bowed and greeted.
But the tension on their faces was painfully apparent.
The iron bars here were built stronger to restrain Awakened individuals, but even so, it was obvious they would shred like paper if caught in that Hunter’s hands.
The police were tense, casting furtive glances, like standing in front of a beast without a leash.
To my surprise, the figure in there sat quietly, handcuffed.
Indeed.
Kang Chang-ho had been arrested for assault and was now detained for questioning.
Due to something he said before coming here while calling out the journalists’ names, no relevant articles had been published yet.
“Kang Chang-ho Hunter.”
I quickly approached the bars and spoke.
“Are you okay?”
It was a cliché way to start, but honestly, seeing his condition made it impossible not to ask.
Wait, what the heck is this guy doing?
Throughout the process of Reporter Yang being taken away and Kang Chang-ho being peacefully arrested, I had thought over and over, but I just couldn’t understand why he suddenly caused an incident.
“Why did you do that earlier?”
However, the answer that came back was incredibly dry.
Kang Chang-ho inside the cell explained that he just didn’t like the situation at that moment.
So I asked again what exactly he didn’t like, and he rolled his eyes, pondering over the words, before finally saying.
“There’s no need to be blamed for something that’s not even your fault.”
That was a valid point.
Kim Gi-ryeo being an orphan wasn’t his fault at all, nor could it be called a wrongdoing. Hence, the earlier situation was undoubtedly unfair.
But the issue was, why did he smash the reporter’s head, when I was the one who felt wronged?
This Earthling would have been aware such actions could bring harm, considering his past.
“Anyway, if you’ve seen enough, then I’ll be heading out.”
“Pardon?”
“I’ve called a lawyer, so I’ll handle the rest.”
My head was spinning with confusion, but the hunter locked in the detention cell spoke in a calm tone.
He probably wouldn’t be out for the next few days, so he advised me to refrain from entering the gates for a while.
There were special notes written at the bottom of the contract regarding such situations, so if I didn’t remember, I could check a copy again, etc.
His tone and demeanor were just as normal as ever, but while observing Kang Chang-ho, I leaned against the bars and said.
“I really can’t understand you.”
Clink.
At that moment, Kang Chang-ho shifted his posture, feeling uncomfortable in a proper sitting stance.
But I didn’t pay attention to his actions and continued the conversation.
“Hunter Kang Chang-ho, let me ask you something.”
Actually, there was something I had always wanted to ask him lately.
“Whose side are you on?”
“What?”
“No, looking at it, your actions seem a bit all over the place.”
Sometimes he seemed to offer grace, suddenly causing bone fractures, and then like today, making a reporter slip into critical condition.
If he just straightforwardly acted in a way I could expect, that’d be fine, but his unpredictable kindness made me feel uncomfortable.
‘Should I just kill him?’
Usually, one alien would have targeted the other’s flesh by now.
“Well, I guess I’m on my side.”
But this time, the response wasn’t promising.
“…Aren’t we too old to be picking sides anymore?”
Kang Chang-ho said that and fell back into silence.
Seeing that, I internally vowed that I would have to crack open the skull of this Earthling later out of mere curiosity about his inner thoughts.
The plan to seize his body remained.
