Chapter 35: The Ones Who Can’t Be Recycled

The real problems began after he graduated high school and entered the X-Gate. He was assigned to team-play with other A-rank trainee hunters—yet it was on a completely different level from what he had experienced with Sung Ji-woo.

How do these people expect to become hunters when they can’t even do this properly?

Every single party member was a mess—below standard, below average. It was unbelievable that these people carried the same A-rank label as Sung Ji-woo.

“Wow, did you see that? Holy sh*t, that was insane.”

“He’s just different from ordinary S-ranks, right? I heard he was crazy famous even in school.”

“Yeah? Did you talk to him?”

“No. He barely answers.”

“Heh, to someone like him, we probably look like pathetic losers. Damn, that stings.”

Their way of thinking was immature—typical for kids who had just become adults. They wanted to be strong, and if they couldn’t, they wanted to live under the protection of someone strong. They wanted to belong to the best clique and weighed every relationship by profit and loss.

Naturally, Yoo Hee-ro became the object of everyone’s admiration. They fawned over him, tried to win his favor, desperate to stand proudly under the shade of “Yoo Hee-ro.”

And these people… would become government-licensed hunters in two years. The world was truly doomed, he thought as he clicked his tongue.

Does hyung have a hobby of recycling, by any chance?

Come to think of it, even in high school, Sung Ji-woo would give up his lunch break to pick up trash for recycling. Maybe his life motto was “recycle everything.” Yoo Hee-ro sighed with pity.

He pitied Sung Ji-woo for challenging something impossible. He hoped Sung Ji-woo would quickly realize that this world was full of trash that simply cannot be recycled.

Still… if hyung wants it.

At the very least, he could keep Sung Ji-woo’s world clean. All he had to do was remove the filth—as if it had never existed.

Yoo Hee-ro narrowed his eyes and stared at the dungeon gate. Somewhere past this door, Sung Ji-woo was out there. Destroying the X-Gate together with him would be the greatest honor imaginable.

By now… how many dungeons has he cleared?

He counted on his fingers. It was unfortunate he couldn’t watch Sung Ji-woo fight. But if he caught up soon, he could fight alongside him. He needed to hurry.

Thinking of Sung Ji-woo giving buffs to garbage like his current team made him feel—somewhat, no… very jealous.

A thought flashed through his mind: if he dropped these annoying insects, he could reach Sung Ji-woo much faster.

The moment the cloud bridge to the next dungeon began to form, Yoo Hee-ro quietly cut the rope holding it together. His action was subtle and discreet—no one could suspect it was intentional. It would simply be seen as an accident.

Without once looking back, he advanced to the next dungeon.

Catching up to hunters who entered the gate only a year earlier was easy. But finding Sung Ji-woo was harder. Yoo Hee-ro was certain Ji-woo was in the vanguard group. He kept moving relentlessly forward, picking up bits of information about the people around Ji-woo.

Rumors of a divine beast handler, an aggressive explosion-type esper, and a wind esper. Strangely, no one mentioned Sung Ji-woo—but perhaps he was simply in a group ahead of them. Or maybe he shut people up because he disliked gossip. There was no way he wasn’t inside the X-Gate.

If he caught up to those three, he would surely find Sung Ji-woo.

As Yoo Hee-ro drifted into thought, the ground beneath him became littered with the corpses of monsters that had died without making a sound.

*******************

A few days later, Yoo Hee-ro happened to encounter two people connected to Sung Ji-woo—Yoo Ho-bin and Jung Han-seok.

He already knew of them—people once close to Sung Ji-woo. And the more he learned, the less he understood why Ji-woo had ever associated with them. They didn’t match him at all.

Then again… Sung Ji-woo probably never cared what kind of people stood beside him. It wouldn’t be strange if trash crawled around him while he wasn’t paying attention.

So… it was surprising, wasn’t it?

When Yoo Hee-ro first met Sung Ji-woo, he never imagined he would catch Ji-woo’s eye. But Sung Ji-woo had shown interest from the very beginning. It wasn’t as if he was secretly warm-hearted—he was still indifferent to everything else.

And that fact alone deeply intrigued Yoo Hee-ro. Before he realized it, he was craving Ji-woo’s attention.

The problem was that Sung Ji-woo wasn’t appealing only to him. The people around him were infested with those desperate for even a scrap of his attention. For example—the pests right in front of him.

“What the hell?”

Just as Yoo Hee-ro recognized them, Yoo Ho-bin recognized him.

“You’re Yoo Hee-ro, right?”

“Huh? That guy Sung Ji-woo used to hang around with…?”

Even with the last word swallowed, it was obvious he meant an insult. Yoo Hee-ro had heard it countless times.

Ho-bin slung an arm over Hee-ro’s shoulders as if they were close. Because of their height difference, he looked like a gorilla hanging off a tree—except he didn’t seem to realize it.

“You know we went to the same school?”

“…”

Hee-ro didn’t reply. He simply brushed Ho-bin’s hand off.

“Argh!”

It was not a light tap to Ho-bin. He grabbed his stinging fingers and winced.

“You crazy bastard!”

“Hey, forget it. You probably ditched your party, right? They must’ve been trash.”

They met in the space between dungeons—the only blind spot of the gate, the only area where monsters didn’t invade.

People rested there, cooked there, slept there, waited for supplies. Hunters simply called it “the Gap.”

This particular Gap lay between the 27th and 28th dungeons. Hee-ro scanned the surroundings. Unfortunately, no other parties were present. Most hunters struggled even reaching the 25th dungeon.

There was a reason it was called the accursed 25th floor. Ho-bin’s group seemed to be recovering from a rough run as voices came from a tent nearby.

In a place without sun or moon, people simply slept and woke whenever it felt right. Statistically, hunters spent three times more time in Gaps than inside dungeons.

But Yoo Hee-ro was the opposite—he spent three times more time inside dungeons.

Ho-bin noticed his tired face and acted like he was offering charity.

“Well, since we’re alumni, if you want, you can join our party.”

Hee-ro considered it silently. Ho-bin kicked the tent.

“Hey! Stop slacking and get out. We’re entering the next dungeon.”

Annoyed voices snapped back, their grumbling unintelligible.

“These weaklings… I dragged your asses all the way here and suddenly you think you’re hot sh*t?”

In the civilian world, it’s said “the loudest voice wins.” In the hunter world, it was similar—flashy, noisy abilities won.

Ho-bin had telekinesis. Park Joon-soo had fire. And both were loud.

Hee-ro hated that they assumed he’d join them, but arguing would waste time.

Normally, once someone entered a dungeon, the next team waited for it to reset. You could force your way in, but no one wanted the penalties… except Yoo Hee-ro.

He planned to enter immediately. Whether someone followed or not was irrelevant.

He stepped forward. Naturally, Ho-bin’s party followed. Their half-asleep teammates scrambled to pack.

“…”

“What are you doing? Hide!”

As soon as the dungeon door opened, Ho-bin checked the surroundings and crawled under the largest structure. His teammates squeezed in too—clearly used to it.

Hee-ro stared blankly at them. They looked like cockroaches dodging the homeowner.

A freshly spawned dungeon had no visible damage—the earlier team seemed nonexistent.

It wasn’t monsters who detected intruders—it was the dungeon. If monsters didn’t see you, they wouldn’t initiate an attack.

Ho-bin’s party exploited that. And when the next group got fed up and fought through the entrance, they would swoop in and steal the credit.

Even that hadn’t worked lately—they had injured members and were stuck at the Gap.

Ho-bin knew. Without someone stronger, they had no chance of advancing.

“Hey! Don’t wander around! Hide!”

“Hey! Are you deaf?!”

Ignoring their shrieks, Hee-ro walked straight toward the monster. Killing them instead of the monster would’ve been satisfying, but if word reached Sung Ji-woo, that would be troublesome. So he restrained himself.

He calmly surveyed the area. At a glance, it looked like there was only one monster, standing in the center—but no. Sharp, predatory eyes covered the walls.

Screee! Kekek! Kreee!

Bat-like monsters rained down on him like black hailstones.

Behind him, the cowards screamed in terror.