Dinner was over.
I scraped the last of the stew into my rice, swallowed it down, and set my spoon aside.
I wiped my mouth with a tissue.
As fullness set in, my body grew languid.
I stood up and spoke dryly.
"Thanks for the meal. I'm going to my room."
The moment I pushed in my chair and turned around, my younger sister sprang up like a coiled spring and grabbed the back of my neck.
"Where do you think you're going! Everyone's gathering in the living room today! Remote confiscated!"
"Ugh, why? I'm tired. I ate, so I'm going to lie down."
"No way! Today's finally the day they're airing that show! They've been running previews for a week—how can the main character skip it!"
She grabbed the back of my tracksuit and started dragging me.
I had more than enough strength to resist, but I couldn't use mana on family.
I was hauled to the living room sofa in a state of non-resistance.
"Come here, my puppy. Sit next to Mom. Let's watch together while eating fruit."
Mom patted the middle of the sofa, seating me down.
My body sank into the plush leather seat.
Due to my small 140cm frame, my feet didn't reach the floor.
They dangled in the air.
Dad was already gripping the remote with a determined expression, staring at the TV screen.
An inescapable encirclement.
A deep sigh escaped me.
Red text flashed in the upper right corner of the TV screen.
[The Greatest Special Documentary Since the Nation's Founding]
A majestic BGM filled the living room.
[Hero's Chronicle: The Bloody Two Years. That Horrific Defense Line]
My face filled the screen.
It was a scene of me slicing a monster's neck, silver hair streaming.
The excessive production added camera flashes to my expressionless face as I unleashed mana.
This is insane.
I wanted to draw up my mana and fold the TV in half from sheer embarrassment.
"Wow! Our Tae-ho looks so handsome! No, pretty! Either way, he's amazing! Like a movie star!"
Dad slapped his knee, making a fuss.
The family had finished preparing to watch my dark history documentary together.
I pulled the nearby blanket over myself up to my chin.
I glared at the screen.
The screen returned to three years ago.
That day when red rifts cracked across the sky.
It was the beginning of the Gate Shock.
The narrator's heavy voice laid over the footage.
—Three years ago, humanity faced a catastrophe where the sky itself collapsed. Red Gates opened in the void without any known cause, and unknown monsters poured forth.
—Humanity resisted. But against an unprecedented disaster, it was woefully inadequate.
Archive footage alternated between black-and-white and color, showing the devastation.
It was the military's initial response.
Tank cannons spewed fire, fighter jets dropped bombs.
Asphalt flipped over and flames soared.
Modern weaponry was hopelessly insufficient to stop the endless wave of monsters.
Magical beasts that deflected bullets.
Giant creatures that charged through buildings, demolishing them.
Defense lines were torn apart, and city centers were engulfed in flames in an instant.
The screams of citizens trapped in vehicles on gridlocked roads transmitted through the screen.
Pandemonium.
A living hell.
I watched the screen with indifferent eyes.
I remember.
The smell of gunpowder that vibrated through the air back then, and the stench of blood that stung my nose.
—Weaker nations were wiped off the map, unable to respond to the initial shock. Even existing superpowers were no exception.
Overseas devastation was cross-edited and streamed.
The Statue of Liberty in New York was burning.
Major coastal cities in China were swept away and vaporized by monster tsunamis.
European Union capitals had their national functions paralyzed and turned into ruins.
They suffered massive military and civilian casualties in the process of blocking the initial monster waves.
That painful initial blow snowballed, and even three years later, their national power remained broken as they fought desperately.
—The northern half of the Korean Peninsula collapsed.
A satellite map graphic filled the screen.
North Korean territory north of the ceasefire line turned red.
The monster wave swallowed the border and began moving south.
A desperate simulation video of hundreds of millions of monsters surging forward.
"Oh my, how terrible. When I watched the news back then, I really thought we were all going to die..."
Mom muttered, clutching her chest.
A single ray of light fell upon the despairing screen.
—At the end of despair, the System opened a path to survival for humanity.
—It was the Awakening.
Grainy CCTV archive footage aired on screen.
The middle of Gangnam, in front of collapsed building debris.
A familiar figure from behind was captured.
It was my past self at age 29, over 180cm tall.
A blue light flashed.
Where the light receded stood a 140cm girl wearing frilly clothes.
Having to watch this absurd transformation process replayed as a nationwide broadcast.
I pressed my forehead.
Ha-eun tried to burst out laughing beside me but shut her mouth after receiving Mom's back-smacking.
—Hunter Kang Tae-ho, who possessed the greatest mana potential.
—To utilize that mana, the System forcibly reconstructed his body into an optimized form.
They sure packaged it nicely.
I clicked my tongue dryly.
Ignoring my ego and gender, the System simply remodeled my shell for mana efficiency.
It was a violent decision where Earth's survival came before my dignity.
Back then, I didn't even have time to complain about my appearance.
—Despair surging from the north. The hero stood alone at the front line.
The screen switched.
Before a trench on the front line where torrential rain poured.
Tens of thousands of monsters roared as they charged forward.
Before that overwhelming mass stood only me, covered in blood.
The me on screen clenched both fists tight.
There was no refined technique.
I threw my body into the wave of monsters, crudely drawing up mana and wrapping it around my entire body.
—Kwaaaaang!
Mana burst forth like a waterfall from my outstretched hands.
Monsters within a radius of several hundred meters were crushed by the bombardment of mana.
It was a desperate struggle for survival, relying solely on a massive mana reservoir and pouring it out without any mana efficiency.
My current combat style was just tricks I picked up as battles continued and perfected by watching anime.
Back then, I didn't even know how to control mana.
Burst corpses, spilled entrails, and piles of bones stacked up like mountains on the ground.
Covered in blood, I gasped for breath and continued releasing mana.
With the worst efficiency, my stamina hit rock bottom, and every joint in my body screamed as if tearing apart.
When corpses formed a massive hill, I climbed on top and unleashed mana again.
Standing in the middle of a blood-red lake with floating corpses, my eyes looking around were dead.
—While other Hunters barely managed to clear the Gates that opened inside South Korea over the course of a month.
—Hunter Kang Tae-ho slaughtered all those waves alone, sleeping only two hours a day.
The me on screen was being ground down.
Scenes of me biting on jerky, leaning against a pile of corpses, and closing my eyes as if passing out.
Two hours later, waking to a siren, unable to even open my eyes properly, yet unleashing mana again.
Sleep deprivation and extreme fatigue.
Even in joint-breaking pain, I silently held the line.
During that one month when overseas superpowers were collapsing.
—Thanks to that desperate sacrifice, South Korea was able to prevent the destruction of its initial infrastructure.
—It became the only nation in the world to remain the safest.
As the symphony reached its climax, the screen switched.
In contrast to the blood-soaked battlefield, peaceful everyday scenes of Seoul flowed.
Office workers laughing over coffee at cafes.
Children with backpacks heading to school.
It was the result I protected by squeezing out blood and scraping bones.
The living room was silent.
Only the TV sound filled the air.
I turned my head slightly.
Mom was silently crying, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
Even Dad, who had been making a fuss, just kept clearing his throat with furrowed brows.
Even Kang Ha-eun, who used me like a taxi service, was biting her lip with her head down.
This is why I didn't want to watch it together.
The hearts of family members who had to watch the live broadcast of me rolling around coughing up blood must have been hell.
These were people who endured two years in fear, not knowing when they might hear news of my death.
A corner of my chest felt heavy.
The reason I returned to this house and lay around listlessly.
The reason I let my sister have her way when she played pranks or doll games.
It was a peace ritual proving I no longer needed to go to the battlefield, and a remedy for my family.
I needed to break the silence.
I forced out a deliberately dry voice.
"Ah, seriously. Gotta hand it to those broadcasting bastards for squeezing out forced emotion."
I yawned and snatched the remote.
"Mom. Cut me some fruit. Apples. Make them bunny-shaped if possible."
At my shameless whining, Mom, who had been sniffling, flinched.
She burst into laughter with wet eyes and wiped them.
"Oh my, yes! Does my youngest daughter want apples? Mom will cut you honey apples right away!"
"Don't forget the bunny shape."
"I know, I know. I have to satisfy our hero's taste."
Mom headed to the kitchen, sniffling.
Dad stroked my silver hair with his rough hand.
"Well done. My child. You really went through a lot."
"Ugh, you're messing up my hair. Stop it."
I swatted Dad's hand away irritably, but didn't move from my spot.
Ha-eun sniffled and leaned on my shoulder.
Normally I would have pushed her away, but just for today, I quietly offered my shoulder.
Listening to the sound of chopping from the kitchen, I stared at the screen.
The commercials passed and the documentary's second half prepared to begin.
One year ago.
The disaster that devastated Chinese and North Korean territory as it moved south.
It was time for the record of the subjugation battle against a 2km-long reptilian magical beast that looked like an inflated Imugi or dragon.
At the time, I couldn't know which Gate that thing came from or why.
It simply charged straight toward Korea, consumed by rage and ferocity.
I had to become a bloody pulp, going through life and death to slice through that massive body that couldn't even be damaged.
I curled my body deep into the sofa and half-closed my eyes.
I thought this peace was fortunate.
* * * * *
"Here, my youngest daughter. Your ordered bunny-shaped apples have arrived."
Mom set down the fruit plate on the glass table.
I picked up a fork and pushed an apple slice into my mouth.
Along with the crisp sweetness, the paused TV screen brightened.
It was the documentary's second half.
—One year ago. An unprecedented disaster of unknown origin occurred in the northern continent.
Along with the narrator's voice, the landscape on screen was being destroyed.
The border area between China and North Korea.
A reptilian magical beast 2-3km in length was crawling across the earth.
An appearance like an inflated Imugi or dragon from legend.
It had the mass of an entire mountain range covered in black scales moving as one.
At the time, I couldn't know which Gate that thing came from or why.
It was a natural disaster itself, tearing apart the continent consumed by extreme rage and ferocity.
—It advanced south, mocking military firepower. Its target was still South Korea, which had maintained its defense line.
Dozens of missiles poured by fighter jets couldn't even scratch its black scales.
The Imugi roared toward the sky with red eyes gleaming in the flames.
A roar that seemed to shatter the lens shook the living room speakers.
The family sitting side by side on the sofa simultaneously gulped and froze.
—A crisis where the nation's survival hung in the balance. The hero once again moved to intercept.
The screen switched.
A field where rain and wind raged.
A small figure from behind looking up at the mountain-like Imugi was captured.
Silver hair fluttering in the fierce wind.
The memory of that day one year ago, reeking of blood, came back vividly.
At the time, I was painfully feeling the limits of crudely unleashing mana.
Pouring mana like artillery shells at that scale-covered thing only scattered on the surface.
The me on screen took a direct hit from the Imugi's tail.
My small body flew through the air like a cannonball and slammed into a cliff face.
Rock fragments crumbling and collapsing.
Even through the monitor, the pain of bones being crushed seemed to transmit.
"Oh my... Tae-ho..."
Mom covered her mouth with both hands.
I could see Dad's jaw muscles tensing.
Ha-eun hugged a sofa cushion tight and buried her head.
Her eyes were squeezed shut.
The me on TV coughed up blood from the collapsed debris.
I roughly wiped my mouth and soared into the air again.
That's when I realized it painfully.
Instead of crudely scattering energy from the outside, I needed to compress mana into a single point and pierce through.
The me on screen gathered blue mana in my fist to the limit.
The mana compressed so densely that the space around my fist distorted like a heat haze.
I charged without hesitation into the Imugi's open maw.
The military drone camera broadcasting live shook.
The monster's agonized scream shook heaven and earth.
Shortly after.
The Imugi's spine split open from inside with an explosion.
It was the result of detonating all the compressed mana deep inside its body at once.
Crude, but definite destructive power that turned it inside out.
Dark red blood poured down like a waterfall.
The corpse, half-blown from head to back, collapsed with a great tremor.
Massive chunks of flesh, blood, and building-sized bone piles covered the territory.
From the middle of that blood waterfall, a single small silhouette dropped.
It was me.
Rolling on the ground, covered in blood from head to toe, not even moving.
—The hero protected this land and grew cold.
No, I didn't die.
I just passed out from squeezing mana to the extreme, but the narration was singing a funeral dirge.
But the living room atmosphere was different.
Like that day one year ago when the entire nation watched the live broadcast with drained faces and wailed.
Kang Ha-eun sniffled audibly and blew her nose.
I quietly chewed the remaining apple.
My mouth felt rough.
It felt like chewing sand.
Two years.
I rolled through battlefields smelling that blood every day.
The sensation of monsters' flesh bursting, the screams of fellow Hunters being torn apart.
Even now in the safe period, when I closed my eyes, the smell of gunpowder and blood lingered at my nose.
War aftereffects. Severe PTSD.
But those who went through more hell than me were these people who remained in the rear.
The fear of not knowing when news of my death might break.
Two years of having to watch their child, their older brother, bleed as bone and flesh were scraped away on TV every day.
I saved the nation, but drove nails into my family's hearts.
The reason I insist on being unemployed.
The reason I don't get angry or run away when my sister shoves dresses at me for doll play.
It's my own form of atonement to this family and a ritual proving peace.
Only when I'm by their side in this small, harmless form being bossed around can these people feel reassured that I'm not going to the battlefield.
I couldn't deny that my broken mind was also gradually healing in this noisy family's warmth.
—Hunter Kang Tae-ho. He will forever remain in this nation's heart...
The documentary ended.
The ending credits rolled as a symphony filled the living room.
A heavy silence flowed.
I felt my parents' and sister's wet gazes all focus on me at once.
This is insane.
I hate this sticky atmosphere.
I put down my fork on the table and jumped down from my seat.
"We watched it. I'm tired, so I'm going to sleep."
Without looking back, I walked toward my room.
Kang Ha-eun sprang up from behind and grabbed the back of my tracksuit.
"Where do you think you're going!"
My neck choked and I stopped with a gagging sound.
I frowned and turned around.
Kang Ha-eun's eyes, which had been sniffling and crying just moments ago, were now gleaming with madness.
In one hand she held tear-soaked tissues, in the other a clothes hanger she'd hidden behind the sofa.
"Our oppa suffered so much bleeding like that! On a monumental day like today, I can't let you stay in this drab gray tracksuit!"
"Hey, let go. You're choking me. I said let go."
"Mom! Let's launch this today! That new pink lace dress we bought from the department store last time!"
The clothes hanger Ha-eun was waving held a flashy pink dress.
A horrific design with frills and ribbons dangling from the hem.
"Oh my! Yes! Our Tae-ho was in so much pain, he needs to wear pretty clothes and heal!"
"That's right, exactly. We need to properly cheer up our hero, of course!"
The living room that had been a sea of tears just moments ago turned into chaos.
Mom wiped her tears and laughed, and Dad stood up from the sofa clapping in support.
"No, why would I heal by wearing that? Are you crazy? Let go. Won't you let go?"
"No more talking, just stick out your arms! Oppa, you're not escaping today!"
Kang Ha-eun pushed my back and started dragging me to my room.
I could blast mana and escape by blowing away the living room.
But naturally, I had no intention of doing that.
"Ugh, you're so annoying..."
I exhaled a sigh.
Resisting would only result in Mom's back-smacking anyway.
I gave up resistance and was led into the room by Ha-eun's hand.
From the living room, my parents' cheerful laughter echoed.
This noisy family's warmth.
Just having protected this annoying peace made the two years of rolling through hell worthwhile.
