Chapter 108

Chapter 108
## Chapter 108: The Meeting of Crimson and Obsidian

It was a cynical truth, but the masses generally harbored a love for brutality.

From the ancient violence of gladiator pits to modern bullfights and cockfights—as long as the blood being spilled wasn’t their own, the audience remained insatiable.

This trend persisted even in the world of mixed martial arts, where spectators favored a decisive knockout over a technical points victory. The constant, heated arguments regarding the efficiency of various combat arts were proof enough.

People weren’t interested in who could technically “win” a bout; they wanted to see who could utterly demolish their opponent and leave them in ruins.

“The same logic applies to Hunter duels.”

Naturally, a clash between Hunters—individuals who essentially functioned as demigods—carried its own inherent thrill.

However, sanctioned matches governed by restrictive safety protocols never truly quenched the public’s thirst for carnage.

The upcoming confrontation between Choi Yeoreum and me was a different animal entirely.

“That’s precisely why the hype is at a fever pitch.”

I glanced at the clock and stood up, making my way toward the briefing room.

The purpose of this session was to hammer out the logistical specifics of my fight with Choi Yeoreum.

She walked in just moments after I arrived. With a silent, fleeting look in my direction, she took her designated seat across from me.

“Now that everyone is present, let’s begin.”

Organizing a duel of this magnitude required an immense amount of preparation.

For instance…

“The current arena is nowhere near durable enough for this fight,” I pointed out.

Choi Yeoreum immediately chimed in.

“He’s right about that.”

If we attempted to fight on a standard reinforced stage, it would be reduced to splinters within five minutes. We required a legitimate battlefield.

“Constructing a custom arena is a waste of resources. It’ll just end up as rubble regardless.”

“I’m also against the idea of a traditional live audience seating area,” I added.

No matter the location, the immediate environment was destined for total destruction.

“What about the flatlands surrounding Anseong Stream?”

The suggestion came from the Association President. The members of the planning board exchanged quiet whispers for a moment.

“That seems viable. There is ample open space, and the only nearby structures are the residential sectors for foreign laborers.”

“The foreign labor zones?” I asked for clarification.

The Association President nodded.

“Primarily Chinese nationals. Migrant workers employed within the Anseong industrial sector.”

“Those districts lack significant infrastructure as it is. Even if they are leveled, the systemic impact will be negligible.”

Currently, Korea operated under a strict ‘citizens-first’ mandate.

Non-citizens were forbidden from residing outside of these specific sectors, which were largely denied basic amenities like consistent power or running water.

“Furthermore, the majority of the housing there consists of mass-produced 3D-printed units manufactured by Geumyang Group.”

If those homes were vaporized, the tragedy would be exclusive to the foreigners; the national ripple effect would be nonexistent. It was a cold, harsh reality for any non-Korean to hear.

But in an era where Korea acted as the world’s enforcer—and its primary bully—there was no recourse. Even if there were casualties in a foreign zone, no nation would dare lodge a formal protest.

“What’s the plan for the broadcast?”

“We intend to deploy a fleet of helicopters and specialized surveillance drones.”

Choi Yeoreum gave a look of mock sympathy.

“You honestly think that hardware will survive the crossfire?”

“These are observation units crafted from high-grade monster materials,” the official insisted.

She remained unconvinced, and to be honest, I shared her doubt.

“They still won’t last.”

“They are rated for at least five hours of continuous operation.”

And there lay the fundamental misunderstanding. Five hours was a drop in the bucket.

“You’ll need backups ready to go.”

They clearly hadn’t grasped the nature of my combat style yet.

“The camera teams will need to work in shifts, so make sure you have enough staff on standby.”

Choi Yeoreum let out a sharp laugh at my remark.

“Just how many hours do you expect this to go on?”

Hours? I was preparing for a siege lasting over a week. A grueling, protracted war of attrition that would likely bore the viewers to death eventually.

I couldn’t speak to her mental stamina, but her raw talent was undeniable. And when I faced a truly gifted opponent, I preferred to take my time.

“You must adhere to the requirements I’ve laid out,” I stated firmly.

A surplus of expendable camera drones and a rotating media crew were non-negotiable for a successful broadcast.

“…Very well. We will accommodate those terms. Hunter Choi Yeoreum, do you have any other needs?”

When the Association President asked, Choi Yeoreum leaned her chin on her palm, flashed a sharp grin at me, and spoke up.

“Hmm? Why don’t you start picking out a nice coffin for this brat?”

A coffin. I met her gaze with a smile of my own.

“I’ll just take a bottle of high-end champagne for the post-victory celebration.”

Our eyes locked for a tense beat. Then, without breaking eye contact, she rose from her chair.

“Finalize the rest of the paperwork yourselves. That’s what you’re paid for.”

Once she had exited, I stood up, still wearing a smirk.

“I feel the same. You’re the ones who stand to profit while Hunter Choi Yeoreum and I provide the entertainment. I expect the arrangements to be flawless.”

I gave a curt nod and walked out.

Several days later, the final touches were in place. I didn’t need a formal briefing to realize it.

📰 SPECIAL PROMOTION 📰
[The Intersection of Crimson and Black. A Storm of Blazing Fury!] [The Established Legend vs. The Rising Myth.]
Aggressive marketing taglines paired with massive portraits of myself and Choi Yeoreum were plastered across every electronic billboard and skyscraper in Seoul.

The digital world was obsessed with our duel. Traditional media was no different.

The atmosphere was thick with overwhelming excitement.

“The branding is actually pretty spot on,” Jeong No-hoon noted, gesturing with his fork toward a television commercial while eating his pancakes.

“Choi Yeoreum’s energy signature is pure fire. And you, Chan-seok, utilize that void-black flame technique.”

The aesthetics aligned perfectly. I hadn’t designed the marketing, but the coincidence was amusing.

“Public opinion is still heavily leaning toward Choi Yeoreum, though,” Han Sang-ah remarked.

I nodded. It was logical. Being ranked third in the world wasn’t a fluke. Excluding the top-tier veteran Hunter, no one on the planet held a higher standing than her.

“What are we looking at? 8-to-2 against me?”

Han Sang-ah shook her head at my estimate.

“More like 7-to-3.”

“That’s surprisingly optimistic.”

The general public apparently held more faith in my abilities than I had anticipated.

“You’ve achieved so many ‘miracles’ at this point. A lot of people are betting on you pulling another one out of a hat.”

I reached for my spear to begin my warm-up, driving the point into a heavy steel training plate as I answered.

“My sights are set on the top spot anyway.”

The specific rankings were secondary. Defeating Choi Yeoreum would technically make me the third-ranked Hunter, but…

“The world is crawling with monsters who keep their true power hidden.”

I knew there were elite individuals intentionally staying off the radar. Even in my previous life, such people were common.

Furthermore…

“Even reaching the pinnacle of Hope’s List won’t be enough to take down the Great Eight single-handedly.”

The memory of Seong Hong, a mere mid-level officer of the Immortal Legion, was still fresh. Climbing the rankings wasn’t the finish line.

It was simply a validation of being among the world’s strongest. It didn’t mean I was ready to dismantle the Great Eight.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Time’s up—are you ready to roll?”

Jeong No-hoon looked at the clock and signaled to me.

“Yeah, let’s get moving.”

I performed a final mental check, stood up, and gathered my equipment. When I stepped outside the facility, a massive crowd was waiting.

Beyond the sea of faces, my transport was waiting. I moved slowly through the wall of shouting fans and flashes of cameras, finally sliding into the vehicle.

“Worrying is a waste of energy.”

I whispered to myself as the car accelerated. I had expected the trip to Anseong to feel long, but it passed in a blur.

Claiming I wasn’t at least a little anxious would be a lie. I had to secure a victory here.

Anxiety has a way of warping time. Before I knew it, I was standing on the vast plains, facing Choi Yeoreum.

She drifted slightly above the grass, a violent orb of fire dancing in one of her hands.

“I hope you’ve made peace with the fact that I’m going to break you, kid.”

“I could say the same to you.”

I gave a brief retort and leveled my spear. Obsidian-colored flames spiraled up the weapon, eventually cloaking the entire shaft in shadows.

I had recently faced Lee Se-eun in a solid match. I wondered how Choi Yeoreum would compare.

“I’m curious to see how many minutes it takes for you to regret that arrogant speech at the naming ceremony.”

As she finished speaking, a thunderous horn echoed across the landscape, marking the commencement of the duel.

“Or perhaps it won’t even take minutes?”

She snapped her riding crop through the air, and suddenly, hundreds of crimson arcane circles materialized around her.

The visual was overwhelming. The sheer pressure of her mana caused a physical prickling sensation against my skin.

“Just as I thought.”

I had suspected she wasn’t interested in a messy brawl.

Her strategy would be to prevent any close engagement—suppressing the opponent from a distance with overwhelming raw power.

“Step forward. The ground you’re standing on is about to become your grave.”

“We’ll see about that, Sparky.”

Her opening move was as brutal as it was simple. A massive carpet-bombing campaign began. Fighters like Adaka or Nanami could mimic this.

But this was on an entirely different scale of magnitude.

Fireballs the size of small houses screamed toward me at breakneck speeds, their trajectories shifting and twisting like sentient creatures.

“This is intense…”

It felt less like a duel and more like surviving a high-stakes bullet hell game. The sheer quantity of projectiles she was generating was staggering.

It looked like a celestial nebula made of burning gas!

And that entire galaxy of fire was now collapsing directly onto my position.

To make matters worse, Choi Yeoreum began to glow with the intensity of a star, discharging lances of red light in every direction. It was reminiscent of a comic book hero’s heat vision.

The catch? It wasn’t just coming from her eyes. She was emitting these scarlet beams from every inch of her body, saturating the air.

“What are you, a disco ball?”

She was like a high-intensity mirror ball casting deadly red light everywhere. There was no precision, no specific aiming.

“If I incinerate everything in sight, I’m bound to hit you eventually!”

That was clearly her philosophy. It was the core principle behind this onslaught.

Even with such a reckless expenditure of mana, her internal reserves didn’t seem to waiver.

The sheer volume of energy stored within her was astronomical, evidenced by this terrifying display. She looked like a solar deity.

“Starting to understand now? You’re out of your league. Unfortunately, realizations are usually fatal.”

Her voice was calm and arrogant as she reclined in the air, legs crossed, peering down at me from her height.

“I hate to disappoint you, but I haven’t even started yet, Sparky.”

Claiming a win this early was a recipe for embarrassment.

Paradox Flame erupted from my core, wrapping around my frame in a violent, dark blaze. I funneled eighty percent of my active mana into the technique.

At this level of density, the flames were capable of erasing physical forms. However, at this moment, my Paradox Flame was focused on a single target.

Thermal energy. Her fireballs didn’t even get the chance to detonate; they simply evaporated as they entered my personal space.

The erratic red beams? They were nullified the same way. Her fire couldn’t find a way through.

“Three or four days isn’t going to be enough. Let’s see how long you can actually last.”

I gripped my spear tight and sprinted directly toward Choi Yeoreum.