Chapter 1: Boyhood

Long before I was born, the world was already in disarray.

Gates had opened, and from them emerged demonic creatures that modern technology could not contend with.

Over half of the global population perished, and around the same time, the first generation of Hunters awakened.

They vanquished the demonic creatures and sealed the Gates.

The problem was that, over time, the Gates would reopen in the exact same locations.

The regeneration cycle varied for each Gate, but no matter how many times they were closed, they would always reopen.

Consequently, Hunters chose to build cities on lands where weaker Gates appeared, then continuously cleanse them internally.

It was a strategy of abandoning the outside world but establishing safe zones within, maintained through absolute control.

This was the genesis of the city-states, a system that had persisted for 120 years.

Baekdam was a very small city-state.

It was the most shadowed corner of an underdeveloped city, devoid of S-rank or A-rank Hunters. A single, underground room, ignored by everyone, was where my father and I lived.

My father was not a good man.

Every time he opened his mouth, curses accompanied his fists, and if he lacked alcohol, he would throw objects, demanding it be bought immediately.

After drinking, he would scream loudly or hit me, eventually collapsing into a drunken sleep.

On the rare occasions we went out together, he wouldn’t curse or hit me. Instead, he would walk ahead, his mouth tightly shut, at a pace so swift I struggled to keep up.

Our destination was always the Hunter Association’s welfare center. The staff would frown every time we arrived.

“Did you see the bruise… Poor child… Just taking the subsidies from the Association…”

“Why even bother with people like them? It’s a waste of taxpayer money.”

“Well, at least the child…”

They always whispered about my father and me, as if we were repulsive insects they wished to avoid.

“Friend. Do you perhaps like books?”

Just as I was growing accustomed to such treatment, one day a young staff member, the only one who ever spoke to me, placed a book in my hand.

It was a fairy tale book, suitable for very young children.

I gripped the book firmly. My heart seemed to flutter slightly at receiving a gift for the first time.

My father grumbled that there was no need to give me such a thing, but he didn’t snatch it away and throw it as he would at home.

I hid the fairy tale book inside my clothes. My father had said the reason I bothered him was because ‘I was visible.’

‘If he can’t see it, it won’t bother him.’

Fortunately, my prediction was correct, and the fairy tale book remained safe until that night.

After my drunken father fell asleep, I crouched in the bathroom and opened the fairy tale book. It was about a queen with an empty heart who built her own ice castle at the end of the world.

The old CRT television at home always showed either movies or the news, and the first news segment invariably featured the demonic creatures Hunters had caught in Baekdam that day.

Their appearance was far more monstrous than any creature in a movie. It wasn’t frightening.

What was truly terrifying wasn’t a dead monster being hauled away on a trailer.

“One of those things is worth tens of millions, even hundreds of millions of won. Damn it all.”

My father erupted in anger. I cautiously said, “I’ll go get food,” and exited through the door.

“You bastard, what were you doing not getting it beforehand!” his rough shout followed me.

I diligently moved my short legs. I had to move quickly to avoid being hit by my ill-tempered father.

At the edge of the alley connecting the slums to the downtown area was a convenience store I always frequented. It was run by a kind owner, and sometimes I would receive expired food there.

As I neared the convenience store, the sunset’s long shadow stretched between the distant high-rise buildings of the downtown area before fading away.

It was evening, the sun having fully set. The enormous electronic billboard, as if on cue, asserted its presence.

Just as an advertisement concluded, a full map of Baekdam City appeared on the screen. It was a map indicating the Gates scheduled to open that day.

People paid little attention. After all, when a Gate’s opening time approached, the Association would control the surrounding area, and Hunters would wait in advance, slaughtering any demonic creatures as soon as they emerged and moving them to the Association.

Modern Gate hunting was merely a repetition of this process.

The screen, which had turned black, began displaying advertisements again. I, too, quickened my stopped steps and entered the convenience store.

It was precisely then, as I opened the glass door and was about to greet someone.

A massive explosion erupted at the far end of the street I had just walked. People screamed and ran down the road.

I stared blankly at the street, which had instantly turned into pandemonium, until a tug on my arm brought me back to my senses.

It was the convenience store owner. He quickly turned off the store lights and pulled me under the counter.

With a grave expression, he placed a finger to his lips. I obediently remained silent.

Information, gleaned from who knows where, flooded my mind.

There were two types of Gate phenomena that deviated from the usual cycle of announcement, control, and slaughter.

One was a good scenario, where a Gate that was due to open remained dormant and quietly passed. The other was a very bad scenario, where the first Gate of a cycle opened prematurely.

People called the latter an ‘Irregular’ and feared them. Irregular Gates opened suddenly, without any warning, and due to their nature, many people died or were injured.

Immediately after hearing the roar of an explosion that sounded as if it would rip everything apart, I perfectly understood the meaning of those words.

High-pitched screams, the sound of buildings artificially shattering and collapsing, even the roars of otherworldly beasts. Everything that reached my ears from the surroundings was horrific and terrifying.

Nevertheless, the owner and I were fortunate. A red dot had appeared on the electronic billboard. The location of one of those Gates was close to us.

Indeed, it wasn’t long before Hunters from that area arrived as support.

Since the demonic creatures from the Irregular Gate were preoccupied with devouring the people nearby and hadn’t strayed far, the death toll was only three.

It was minimal damage for an Irregular Gate. Everyone agreed that this time’s fatalities were simply incredibly unlucky.

My father was one of those ‘unlucky people.’