Chapter 8: The End of an Ambition

Ji-ho glared at the handkerchief.

He then tossed it onto the bonfire Seon Tae-woong had lit, incinerating any trace of blood.

Only after the flames had completely consumed the handkerchief did Ji-ho sigh and slump onto the ground.

His body was in a deplorable state from the continuous use of his skills.

Seon Tae-woong seemed to have vaguely noticed this; though he said nothing, he became increasingly vigilant, reacting to ambushing monsters before Ji-ho could.

“Hmph…”

His body, strained and having vomited blood, felt as heavy as if weighted down by lead.

Ji-ho lay down where he was and closed his eyes.

While he knew he should rest, considering what lay ahead, sleep stubbornly eluded him.

Instead, his mind, already a tangled mess, became further cluttered with intrusive thoughts.

‘Outside, chaos must have erupted by now.’

An S-rank or higher gathering-type dungeon had appeared, and two hunters, both below the recommended rank, were caught within it.

Everyone must be predicting a desperate outcome, expecting them to die.

Some might hold onto hope, but…

Their hopes would undoubtedly rest on Seon Tae-woong, not Shin Ji-ho.

It was clear that no one would expect Shin Ji-ho to be helpful in clearing the dungeon.

Even his guildmates, friends, or family who wished for his survival would likely be cheering for Seon Tae-woong to succeed, rather than him.

There was no need to feel resentful; their reasoning was sound.

Although Ji-ho’s presence had made it slightly easier for Seon Tae-woong to navigate the dungeon, Seon Tae-woong would have found a way to reach this point alone, even without him.

In fact, if a support-type hunter, even a C-rank, had entered instead of a mediocre combat-type hunter like Ji-ho, they might have been far more useful.

Ji-ho stared at his pale hands.

An Awakener’s power didn’t stem from physical strength, so even with enhanced abilities, there were no outward changes to their appearance.

Yet, because he had spent his life focused solely on academics, his smooth, uncalloused, and pale hands felt particularly fragile today.

‘Of course, they are actually weak.’

A bitter smile touched Ji-ho’s lips.

‘Perhaps it’s time to close the guild, or pass it on to someone else, and quit being a hunter altogether.’

He had already been feeling his limitations.

This incident had simply flipped a switch, igniting a powerful desire for escape within the disillusioned Shin Ji-ho.

No matter how much he tried, Shin Ji-ho, a B-rank hunter, would never be able to shed the suspicions clinging to him and truly ascend.

He had been stubbornly clinging to a futile ambition, but perhaps the time had finally come to let go.

The time to abandon his stubborn insistence on achieving something, even if it meant pushing his weak body to its limits against his family’s objections.

‘Everyone would be pleased.’

His family and friends who worried about him, the countless hunters who disliked him, and even those who believed the image of corruption associated with Shin Ji-ho tarnished Cheongram—all of them.

It was also time to stop this desperate struggle, this yearning and striving alone when no one else desired it for him.

If he truly wished to continue as a hunter, he could simply restart a few years later, once his existence had faded from people’s memories.

He would just leave the name Shin Ji-ho, burdened with all its infamy, and simply…

‘Worthless. B-rank.’

Seon Tae-woong’s constant provocations were annoying, but there wasn’t a single falsehood in anything he had said.

Yes, this would be his last time.

Ji-ho slowly closed his eyes.

A profound darkness, devoid of all sight, descended upon him.

Seon Tae-woong awoke precisely an hour later.

Ji-ho, who had only closed his eyes but never truly slept, stumbled as he got up, prompting Seon Tae-woong to click his tongue at the sight of his weary face.

“I told you to sleep. What were you doing, not sleeping? Honestly, you’re such an idiot.”

“I did rest. It’s just that I’m not as unconcerned as Hunter Seon Tae-woong, so I couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Annoying B-rank.”

“Yes, yes.”

Having decided to quit being a hunter, he found himself without the usual urge to retort, even to words he would normally snap back at.

Seon Tae-woong, observing Ji-ho’s sudden meekness with a puzzled expression, simply assumed he was nervous and began to stretch.

Soon, having finished his preparations, Seon Tae-woong turned to Ji-ho with a resolute expression.

“B-rank, I’m not expecting much from you. Absolutely do not overexert yourself. But don’t just stand there doing nothing either. Even a B-rank is better than nothing.”

“Understood.”

“You remember the signals I told you about earlier, right?”

Ji-ho recalled the signals Seon Tae-woong had diligently taught him as they moved through the passage.

“If you need preparation before using a major skill, it’s yelling ‘Skill’ or waving your right arm. If you’re hit with a skill restriction or silence, it was a fist, right? And…”

Ji-ho rattled off the signals that were apparently used by the Apollo Guild.

Remembering them hadn’t been difficult, but Seon Tae-woong seemed quite surprised.

“You remembered all that quite well. Right, you were a Korea University student. It’d be better for you to just keep studying instead of being a hunter. You haven’t dropped out, have you?”

“I’m currently on a leave of absence.”

“Good. Once we get out of here, quit being a hunter and just study. You could even research Awakeners. I hear a lot of F-ranks go down that path.”

“Haha…”

Ji-ho chuckled weakly.

Following Seon Tae-woong’s advice would indeed be the best course of action once they escaped this place.

Assuming Ji-ho was, as usual, dismissing his words, Seon Tae-woong clicked his tongue in exasperation.

“Anyway, you can only go to school if we escape here, so let’s give it our best shot.”

“Right.”

“If I ask, draw their attention. Move according to my instructions as much as possible, and don’t try to be a hero. It’d be a nuisance if you got hurt unnecessarily.”

“Understood.”

“That’s all you need to do.”

Despite the lack of expectation in the remark, Shin Ji-ho nodded meekly.

As the comparatively weaker one, it was only right for Ji-ho to comply.

‘If only I could become stronger.’

Ji-ho closed his eyes, then opened them again.

Since he was going to quit anyway, there was no point in harboring lingering regrets.

Surviving here would be his final act as a hunter.