TDLHRH 4

Rushing around frantically to complete the procedures, Haerang entered the morgue and was met with the cold, lifeless bodies of his parents. The hands that had embraced him just last night, the lips that had smiled at him, and the always-kind eyes—now, they were all pale and drained of life, exuding only the aura of death.

Only after seeing it all with his own eyes did Haerang collapse under the weight of despair and the crushing reality. 

“Mom, Mom… Dad… What am I supposed to do now? How can you leave me behind…?”

Kneeling on the cold floor, he sobbed uncontrollably. The surrounding medical staff, witnessing the young boy’s heart-wrenching grief, couldn’t hide their bitter expressions.

“How am I supposed to live on my own? What can I even do by myself when I have no one—no mom, no dad!” 

Screaming until his voice was hoarse and tears streamed endlessly, Haerang suddenly lifted his head, struck by a thought. His tear-streaked, reddened face made him look even younger than his actual age, intensifying the pity of those watching.

“My sister, what about my sister? Did you find her? Is she alive? Please…”

“We’re not sure yet. Since we haven’t received any updates, it seems she hasn’t been found.”

“She’s alive, right? She has to be alive. There’s no way… no way she could…”

It was then that Haerang truly understood the advice his mother had always given him. 

Whenever he and Horang fought, their mother would sigh and say, “If we’re not here anymore, it’ll just be you and your sister. You two need to get along.” 

Horang would then reply, “I’m going to live with Mom forever, not him,” while Haerang would scoff and retort, “Well, I’ll live with Dad forever.” 

Though their mother had probably meant it seriously, he and Horang had always laughed it off as a joke.

Now, in the present—faced with the reality of losing his parents, the very foundation of his life, the only face filling his mind was Horang’s. Though he’d recklessly claimed he’d awaken as a hunter, Haerang was ultimately just a child incapable of signing even a single contract on his own.

At only nineteen years old, what could he possibly do alone? Being the child of parents who were both only children themselves, he had no relatives to rely on. In the end, the only path left for Haerang was the very one Horang had begged him not to take—the path of a hunter.

Thrown into society as a young nineteen-year-old hunter, Haerang struggled to survive, constantly battered and bruised. Without a guardian and too consumed by despair to think clearly, he became easy prey for unscrupulous adults. Even the Hunter Association, which seemed reliable at first, showed no hesitation in sending him into gate after gate as they opened.

While Haerang’s fame grew, his mental state deteriorated, and he barely clung to his will to live. Yet, even amidst the overwhelming despair, there was a glimmer of hope—the absence of Horang. Despite days of searching, her body hadn’t been found, nor were there any signs that she’d been flung elsewhere. Based on this, the Gate Management Team officially classified her as “Gate Missing.”

This fragile hope—that Horang was alive somewhere, no matter what world she’d fallen into—was enough for Haerang to keep going. He had to, to give Horang a place to return to. As he risked his life entering dungeon-type gates and stopping outbreak-type gates, trustworthy companions began to gather around him.

After much deliberation, Haerang founded a guild named after Horang. He no longer trusted the Hunter Association, which had exploited and overworked him while claiming to protect the nation. More importantly, being tied to the Association left him no personal time, and finding Horang was his top priority.

After all, Horang’s current status was “Gate Missing.” “Gate Missing” referred to those who disappeared after being sucked into a gate. If lucky, these individuals might reappear months later; if unlucky, it could take decades before they were found inside a dungeon gate, earning the title of “Returnee.” Of course, such cases were exceedingly rare.

But Haerang refused to believe that Horang could have died alone in a foreign world with no one she knew. Obsessed with finding her, he pursued her like a madman. He closed hundreds of dungeon-type gates in his search. On occasion, he even found actual Returnees, but none of them were Horang.

Suppressing his bitter disappointment, Haerang watched as the Returnees he rescued reunited with their families.

Someday, he believed that scene would become his future. However, no matter how many gates he scoured or how persistently he questioned returnees about Horang, not a single trace of her could be found. Without even a shred of evidence that Horang was alive, ten years had passed since that day.

Even so, Haerang had not abandoned hope of finding Horang. He always carried a picture of her in his pocket, in case he encountered a returnee at any moment. Visiting the returnee center every time someone reported back had become such a routine that the staff there would greet him without even checking the paperwork, asking if he’d come to see another returnee today.

Lost in memories from the morning, Haerang felt a bitter taste in his mouth and gulped down water. Perhaps it was because today was his parents’ death anniversary, but his emotions felt unsettled. Just then, his phone rang. For a moment, he flinched as the scene overlapped with memories of the past, but the name displayed on the screen was the Korea Hunter Association. A persistent organization that never stopped reaching out to him, even after he had founded his guild.

“Tsk.” Clicking his tongue briefly, Haerang casually answered the call.

“This is Baek Haerang, Guild Master of the Horang Guild.”

“Greetings, Guild Master. This is Kim Cheoldu, a combat hunter with the Korea Hunter Association.”

“Yes, go ahead.”

Responding indifferently, Haerang opened his calendar to check which gate he was scheduled to handle today. But his body froze at the next words.

“A fast-approaching unidentified creature has been detected in the northern skies. Satellite imagery indicates a significant resemblance to the Bone Dragon that appeared 23 years ago in an S-rank gate. We’re contacting top-ranked hunters in advance to prepare a response. Please come to Paju as soon as possible. Details on the location will be sent to your secretary.”

“A Bone Dragon flying outside of a gate? Are you sure it’s not a misidentification?”

“Most experts reviewing the data are convinced. Please arrive quickly.”

The urgent tone of the voice left no room for further questions before the call abruptly ended. There was no time to dwell on the abruptness. If it really was the Bone Dragon and it couldn’t be stopped in Paju, Seoul might become isolated. There was also the possibility that it wasn’t the actual Bone Dragon, but rather a biological weapon created by North Korea.

Rumors suggested they experimented with monsters from gates—and even awakened hunters—to develop weapons. Regardless, Haerang had to act. Reaching this conclusion, he hurriedly gathered his equipment, threw it on, and boarded the waiting helicopter.

While other countries reportedly tamed monsters for transportation, South Korea, burdened by frequent disasters and a shortage of resources, had to make do with helicopters. The pilot, aware of the urgency, flew so fast the aircraft shook violently. Haerang, fighting off rising tension, sent an emergency message to his team, trying to steady his trembling fingers.

There had never been a quiet day in the past ten years, and today was proving no different. I hope I’ll have time to visit my parents’ columbarium later. Silently cursing the Bone Dragon for appearing on such a day, Haerang arrived in Paju.

As expected of South Korea, a country renowned for its abundance of hunters, the vast plain was filled with familiar faces. There were four S-rank hunters, including himself, and dozens of A-rank hunters as well. Given their collective skill and extensive experience, even a Bone Dragon, classified as an S-rank monster, should be taken down swiftly.

Just as Haerang stepped off the helicopter and raised his arms to stretch his stiff shoulders, an A-rank hunter with scouting abilities shouted urgently, “It’s coming!”

“Mages, prepare descending spells! Tanks to the front! Healers, pair up with two damage dealers and move to the rear!”

Though clearly startled, the hunters’ experience showed as they moved calmly according to the orders. The plan was perfect against standard flying monsters, even if it remained uncertain how effective it would be against an S-rank monster like the Bone Dragon. If its wings were rendered useless, it would become vulnerable to direct attacks. Of course, no one could afford to let their guard down when facing an S-rank monster. Still, with so many mages on hand, it seemed inconceivable that the descending spells wouldn’t work. Even if one attempt failed, a cascade of dozens of spells layered together would eventually bring it down.

The formation was set, and aside from the murmuring voices of those casting spells, the tense stillness filled the air. The black dot that had been visible in the distance started to grow larger and larger. For a moment, Haerang felt fear at the unbelievable speed, but he quickly regained his composure, straightening the staff he held and taking a deep breath. No matter how fast or strong the monster was, if it threatened to destroy the place where Horang might return, he would stake his life to eliminate it. His firmly trained resolve beat steadily, like a slow drum.

“It’s here! Cast the descending spells! Long-range dealers, prepare to attack!”

“Tanks, use your skills!”

The Bone Dragon that appeared in the sky was truly majestic. Its size was colossal, and with only jet-black bones remaining, its lack of expression made it all the more terrifying. But everyone present was a hunter who had survived countless life-or-death battles. Fear alone wasn’t enough to make them stop their attacks.

A barrage of dazzling skills flew toward the distant figure. With a screeching cry, every hunter present thought the same thing: It worked! However, as the remnants of their skills faded, the figure that emerged left an unsettling silence among the previously excited group.

“…It’s not just me, right? It looks completely fine.” Far from descending, the Bone Dragon floated in place, completely unscathed despite the relentless attacks. It seemed almost mocking.

Park Miryeon, the S-rank combat hunter from the Hunter Association who had been giving orders, gritted her teeth and shouted, “Just keep attacking! Forget the descending spells—they don’t work!”

What followed was chaos. Under normal circumstances, they would have followed a textbook raid strategy after grounding the monster, but against an enemy this powerful and impervious to their plans, a chaotic free-for-all was the only option. No matter how carefully they strategized, it would all be blocked anyway. Their only hope was to attack relentlessly, defend wildly, and heal frantically until something landed.

But this time, even that didn’t work. The Bone Dragon seemed completely untouchable, showing no signs of damage whatsoever. Seeing this, fear began to creep into the hearts of the hunters.

At that moment, the Bone Dragon, which had been stationary until now, suddenly descended rapidly. It didn’t seem as though the spells had taken effect—it appeared to be moving of its own volition. Despite the confusion, the tense tanks immediately assumed full defensive stances, bracing for an attack.

In the heavy, suspenseful atmosphere, a small figure dropped from the Bone Dragon. It wasn’t far, so everyone’s eyes focused intently on the figure that had fallen. It unmistakably looked human. Among them, Haerang’s gaze was particularly transfixed, unable to look away. Everything about that person felt deeply familiar.