Chapter 15

Chapter 15
## Chapter 15: Selecting a Salvager

There were significant hurdles that kept the hunter community from jumping at the opportunity.

“It had to be the southern region.”

South Korea’s top-tier hunters were currently occupied with containing erosion sectors along the DMZ. Naturally, accepting a mission located at the very edge of the southern peninsula was a hard sell for most professionals.

Furthermore, the Tsushima Erosion Core had recently escalated to a Grade 2 threat. Unless one belonged to the elite squads stationed at the border, facing the creatures emerging from a Grade 2 Core required gathering a massive raid party.

“And the commission is terrible.”

For a Grade 2 operation, the bounty was a meager 55 million won—an amount that would dwindle further once divided among a full team of hunters. It was no wonder the DMZ veterans weren’t interested.

“But this is a Grade 2 Core. If I clear it solo, that 55 million won is entirely mine.”

Beyond the money, completing such a task would build a legendary reputation and grant me immense prestige. Fresh off the heels of soloing a Grade 3 Core, conquering a Grade 2 request would be a massive statement.

“So, what kind of threats are we looking at in a Grade 2 zone?”

I opened my phone and browsed through the data logs of monsters documented by other hunters in similar sectors. I let out a sharp click of my tongue.

“Damn, at this scale, doing it alone is going to be a massive gamble.”

If I could actually step inside the Tsushima Erosion Core by myself, I knew I could handle the monsters. Since it had only just transitioned to Grade 2, it was technically stronger than a Grade 3, but it was still on the lower end of the Grade 2 power spectrum. Inside that space, I wouldn’t have to suppress my Paradox Flame; I could simply incinerate the entire interior into a scorched wasteland.

The problem was the journey there. Before entering the core, I would have to severely limit the output of the Paradox Flame—otherwise, I’d burn out before even reaching the Tsushima Grade 2 site.

“If I just had one reliable partner… just one.”

That would be plenty. With a second person, we could fight our way to the entrance. Once we breached the core, we could take our time and eventually wipe the place clean.

“Ugh, is that lunatic really my only option?”

The person who immediately came to mind was Han Sang-ah, whom I’d met during the Gyodongdo incident. Her combat prowess was far beyond what I required for a partner. After debating it for a moment, I reached out to her with the Tsushima mission details, proposing a joint venture.

—I’m in.

Her response arrived within minutes.

—Just the two of us, right? You understand the terms?

—I specified that in the text. I’m fine with it.

Time was of the essence, so I quickly coordinated our meeting time and location before officially accepting the Tsushima request. About ten minutes later, a notification confirmed that Han Sang-ah had joined the mission as well. With a partner secured, I ran a hand through my hair.

“Now for the scrap dealers.”

I needed a crew. They were essential for gathering and liquidating the valuable materials dropped by the monsters I killed.

“If I’m going to be trusting someone with my income…”

I wanted a team I could rely on. Our connection was strictly business—I wasn’t looking for deep-seated loyalty, just competence.

“I’ve got plenty of candidates…”

As a rookie hunter who had made waves on the news, I was a hot commodity. Not because of my looks, but because my performance was unprecedented for a newcomer. There was no shortage of salvagers eager to sign a contract with me.

The question was: which one?

“The biggest firm available.”

It was like buying a vehicle: do you go for the reliable Mercedes or a sketchy knock-off brand? A small, boutique firm might claim to be trustworthy, but in this industry? Not a chance. Even if they had the skills, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t vanish. A small operation had very little to lose, making it far too tempting for them to pocket the loot and disappear.

“Maybe they’re honest people.”

But I had lived through enough betrayals to know better than to gamble on the goodness of strangers. Unless they were putting up serious capital or offering me significant advantages, it was just a transaction. I scrolled through my messages and picked a candidate.

“The top-ranked firm might be too much.”

Blue Wrench was the undisputed leader of the industry. However, the second and third-ranked companies were fighting for dominance. Approaching the third-ranked firm might result in a more favorable deal for me.

“Daebak Scrap Dealers.”

The name sounded generic, like a local mom-and-pop shop, but they were actually the third-largest salvaging company in the country.

—This is Yoo Chan-seok. I’m following up on your message. Are you free to talk?

The reply was instantaneous.

—One moment, please. We will contact you immediately.

Seconds later, a different number called.

—Greetings, Hunter. This is Choi Seung-gi, the CEO of Daebak Scrap Dealers. It is an absolute privilege to hear from you.

The message was filled with excessive politeness. The gist of it was: please give us a chance to meet—we’ll offer the best terms in the business!

—Can you meet right now? This is an urgent matter.

—Certainly. Just tell me where to go.

I sent him the coordinates, and he promised to be there in forty minutes. He sounded hungry for the work, which suited my needs perfectly. About thirty minutes after our call, I received a notification that they had arrived in the vicinity. I was waiting at Oduak, a cafe franchise reserved exclusively for licensed hunters.

“First time meeting you in person.”

“The honor is all mine, Hunter Yoo Chan-seok.”

“Why are you waiting out here?”

As I approached the cafe, a man wearing dark sunglasses and a thick gold chain recognized me. His hair was slicked back with an aggressive amount of pomade. He looked more like a mob enforcer than a CEO.

“I’m not a licensed hunter.”

“Ah.”

Oduak’s policy allowed hunters to bring up to three guests, but Choi Seung-gi didn’t have a license, so he couldn’t even walk through the door on his own.

“I haven’t actually signed up for a membership here yet.”

It was an expensive recurring cost. I hadn’t seen the need for it until now, but it seemed my luck had run out. Choi beamed at my comment.

“Perfect. To celebrate our first meeting, Hunter Yoo Chan-seok, allow me to gift you a one-month premium membership.”

“No, that’s unnecessary. I’d feel indebted.”

Choi dismissed my concern with a hearty laugh.

“Please, don’t think of it that way. It’s a small gesture—I’m not the type to use a gift as leverage.”

He stepped toward the entrance, checked the membership tiers, and spoke to the staff.

“One month of premium, please.”

The barista nodded.

“We need a hunter’s credentials to activate the membership, sir.”

“It’s not for me—it’s for this gentleman here.”

I handed over my phone without a word. The clerk scanned the digital ID.

“Yes, Hunter Yoo Chan-seok, identity verified…”

She stopped mid-sentence and stared at me.

“You’re Yoo Chan-seok?”

I confirmed my identity with a nod, and she quickly regained her professional composure.

“It’s an honor to have you here. Processing the one-month premium now.”

“Put it on this card.”

Choi handed over his credit card, and the transaction was finished in seconds.

“One-month premium: 1.55 million won.”

A cafe membership for over a million won? That was highway robbery.

“Premium members get access to private showers, high-end equipment rentals, and full menu delivery—all services covered at any Oduak branch. Except for the main headquarters, of course.”

“What’s the deal with the headquarters?”

Choi laughed at my side.

“You can’t just order off their menu.”

“I hadn’t heard that.”

“The main location is managed by Sa Seung-hee, the owner of the franchise. Hunters go crazy for the food there—especially the pumpkin pie.”

The headquarters served a specific pumpkin pie seasoned with cinnamon and maple syrup. The legend goes that when a group of hunters was waiting for a fresh batch, a man tried to skip the line, and the 33 hunters behind him beat him senseless. Since then, it’s been known as the “33 Pie.”

“Is it addictive or something?”

Choi shook his head.

“I had a slice years ago. Even hunters on the Hope’s List will wait in line for hours without a word of complaint—it’s that incredible.”

If top-ranked elites were queuing up for dessert, it had to be something special. Since non-hunters weren’t allowed in Oduak, most of the public didn’t even know the place existed.

“Understood. But we aren’t here to discuss pastry, are we?”

Choi nodded and sat down. After we grabbed our drinks, I got straight to the point.

“Of all the salvagers who reached out to me, you’re the only one I responded to.”

“I am truly grateful for the opportunity.”

His posture became incredibly stiff and formal, which looked strange given his flamboyant outfit.

“May I provide a brief overview of our capabilities?”

“I’m listening.”

Choi cleared his throat, took a sip of his coffee, and began his pitch.

“I have a workforce of roughly 50,000 employees.”

It was a massive operation, though Blue Wrench—the industry giant—was nearly seven times that size.

“The salvaging business can be quite competitive on the ground.”

“Big hauls lead to big conflicts.”

If every hunter on a mission used the same salvager, it was easy. But usually, different crews would fight over the remains once a mission was over.

“That’s why my teams undergo regular combat drills. We equip them with proper tactical gear for every job.”

He detailed their loadout: a rifle with 120 rounds, a sidearm with 30, grenades, tactical vests, and Level III ballistic plates. I interrupted him with a question.

“The cost of damaged equipment must be astronomical.”

“The profit from the loot more than covers it. Besides, we have our own internal processing wing to maximize our margins.”

“A processing wing?”

He pulled out a sample to show me, a wide grin on his face.

“We take the chitin and scales from monster carcasses and turn them into something marketable.”

They were efficient—nothing went to waste.

“The equipment we manufacture…”

“We list it on the hunter marketplace. Or we sell it on behalf of our partners for a crafting fee plus a commission.”

As we spoke, Choi kept glancing toward the window.

“Are you expecting someone?”

He chuckled.

“Regarding the Gyodongdo job, word is that Hunter Kim Min-je has an exclusive contract with a specific salvager.”

“That sounds right.”

I had almost forgotten about that detail.

“We contacted his designated crew and secured your portion of the earnings separately.”

“…Why would you do that?”

“We wanted to show our initiative.”

“Initiative.”

“Ah, look—they’ve arrived.”