[Late Evening, Road near the Dolmen Heritage Site in Ganghwa Island, S-rank Tower vicinity.]
“…This was Lee Yun-mi, reporting the news.”
The reporter finished her closing remarks, and the cameraman signaled the end of the broadcast as the camera light flicked off.
“Whew.”
“Good work, senior.”
“Good work? You’re the one dragged all the way to an S-rank Tower with no advance notice. You deserve more sympathy.”
“Ha, haha…”
The bearded cameraman, wearing his cap low, gave an awkward chuckle at Lee Yun-mi’s remark.
While both of them were civilians, the cameraman had been summoned for one reason: “Protect the senior reporter if anything happens near the S-rank Tower.”
“If the dungeon breaks, monsters pour out, and things get dicey, don’t try to save me by jumping in front, okay?”
“Come on, senior. There’s no way a break would happen, right?”
“It’s just a precaution. If the higher-ups didn’t think there’d be a scoop, I wouldn’t even be here.”
Lee Yun-mi pointed to the Tower of Illusions, towering skyward atop a Bronze Age dolmen.
“Who knows when monsters might leap out and try to kill us?”
“But most of the mobs are already dead, aren’t they?”
“Who knows? Maybe while we’re clueless, the boss is laying eggs and building a hatchery to mass-produce monsters. It’s not like we get accurate percentages for clear rates.”
“That’s true, but still….”
“If the executives at the station want a scoop so badly, they should’ve come here themselves.”
“Aren’t you here because you’re the station’s top face for the 7 o’clock news? The viewers want the prettiest reporter, right?”
“What, are you hitting on me? Forget someone like me; try wooing one of the girls over there.”
She gestured toward a group gathered near a military checkpoint, snapping pictures on their smartphones in small clusters.
“Those cosplayers stirring up confusion.”
“Didn’t you say earlier this area was crowded with people hoping to catch a glimpse of an S-rank Hunter?”
“Yeah.”
Lee Yun-mi pointed toward the crowd that filled the road near the checkpoint.
“Some are cosplaying maids, hoping to see the Cosplay Maid. Others are dressing up and hanging near the S-rank Tower, dreaming that maybe they’ll awaken. Then there are people like me, sent here in case an S-rank Hunter shows up, hoping for an interview or a photo. It’s ridiculous.”
“Do you think the Maid will really show up here?”
“Who knows? But this is the likeliest spot, unless she swims to Jeju Island or Dokdo or hops on a plane abroad.”
Tap, tap-tap.
She tapped the ground with her foot.
“At least this place is accessible by foot, and with an S-rank Hunter’s physical specs, biking or running here wouldn’t be an issue.”
“S-ranks are pretty incredible in that regard. But….”
“But what?”
“If the Maid were to be hired by the Korean government, what do you think her appropriate salary would be? Monthly 200? Yearly 200?”
“Could you clarify if you mean won or dollars, and give a more concrete amount?”
“Come on, obviously billions. Doesn’t Blue Lightning make 20 billion won a month?”
“That guy’s a special case.”
The reporter gestured to her smartphone’s battery.
“He’s a walking power plant who eradicates KEPCO’s deficit and cuts national electricity costs by 50%. Pooling those savings into 200 billion won annually for his account doesn’t seem unreasonable.”
“True. He’s a capable Hunter in combat, too.”
“An S-rank Hunter isn’t just about clearing S-rank Towers. What matters is how well they use their abilities in the real world. How many S-rank patriots like Blue Lightning contribute to the nation’s economy?”
“Patriotism….”
“What’s with that reaction?”
“Ah, nothing. Just thought of something inappropriate to mention in front of you.”
“Ah, that?!”
Lee Yun-mi smirked.
“You’re talking about that person who said, ‘If Awakened don’t climb Towers, they should at least have kids for the sake of the nation,’ right? The one who recently resigned?”
“Yes, him.”
“That’s typical of the folks in Yeouido. There are probably worse ideas floating around. If we’re talking patriotism and kids, they’d probably…. Wait. Hey, the camera, the camera!”
She signaled to the cameraman, who quickly adjusted his shoulder-mounted camera to start recording.
“Excuse me, this is reporter Lee Yun-mi from NVC. Would you mind if I asked for an interview?”
She extended her microphone toward a woman in a black suit, wearing dark sunglasses and carrying a bulky briefcase.
Unlike the crowd nearby, this woman’s aura was strikingly distinct.
“…Is this live?”
“Oh, no, it’s not live. We send the signal to the studio and—oh, one moment.”
[Let’s connect to Lee Yun-mi on site. Yun-mi, can you hear us?]
“Yes, I’m at the entrance checkpoint of the S-rank Tower in Ganghwa Island. A diverse group of citizens has gathered here, and….”
“Excuse me. Is this a live broadcast?”
Just as Lee Yun-mi glanced at the camera and began speaking to the studio anchor, the woman in black grabbed her shoulder and stepped forward.
[Ah, ahem. It seems quite lively at the scene. Director Jeong Cheol-gwang, what do you make of the….]
“I’m about to clear this Tower. I thought I’d give a heads-up this time.”
“What?”
[What?!]
Both the reporter and the anchor exclaimed simultaneously.
“Excuse me…?”
“With so many people gathered here, I thought I should announce myself before entering.”
A blatant broadcast mishap.
Despite this, the cameraman instinctively adjusted his frame, capturing the face of the woman in sunglasses as she patted the reporter’s shoulder.
“If possible, I hope no one else tries to enter the Tower. It’s dangerous.”
“E-excuse me, but could you possibly be…?”
The reporter’s trembling eyes reflected her shock as she swallowed hard and asked:
“… the Cosplay Maid?”
“…”
The woman in the black suit remained silent. She adjusted her sunglasses, then—
Ta-at.
In a single bound, she soared over the crowd, landing atop the roof of the military checkpoint in an instant.
Silence.
Not only did she jump 50m in the blink of an eye, but everyone gathered near the checkpoint sensed the woman’s movements as she climbed onto the checkpoint that was 4m high.
Soldiers, reporters, and vloggers alike.
“S-rank Hunter!!!”
With that cry, the black-haired woman, who had once donned a maid outfit, dashed toward the S-rank Tower and entered it in the blink of an eye.
“Wow… incredible….”
The cameraman’s dazed muttering echoed across the world, carried by the broadcast, yet no one criticized him for it.
“This is the checkpoint at the S-rank Tower on Ganghwa Island! An S-rank Hunter, believed to have cleared the [Mungyeong Saejae Tower], has suddenly appeared here and—!”
* * *
Hunter Appearance
Normally, when Hunters clear Towers, there’s a process they must follow.
They must report to the government and receive prior approval.
This involves submitting their ID, writing a “Clearance Plan”, and awaiting authorization.
It’s not as simple as just submitting paperwork.
The government must officially approve the request before they can enter the Tower.
If a Hunter enters without government approval, the state disclaims responsibility for anything that happens within the Tower’s lawless domain.
Even with approval, the government doesn’t take full responsibility; the procedures are merely a method to exert control over Tower access.
Experts often frame it as a way to protect Hunters, but many Hunters despise the bureaucracy of submitting IDs and getting clearance.
After all, Towers are battlegrounds where they risk their lives to eliminate global threats. Why impose such strict control over access?
Some argue it’s a safety measure for Hunters; others see it as a tool for government control.
For me, it’s the latter.
If it were about safety, Elaine wouldn’t need to expose her identity.
‘Whether it’s the resident registration number or the hunter ID on the national ID, there must be more than one or two people who hack it and steal the data.’
Worse than hacking, however, is the risk of an internal leak.
All it would take is one official accepting a bribe to sell Elaine’s information to someone in a red suit.
That’s why I devised this approach: bypass the procedures, hide the information, but make it publicly known.
Beep beep.
A notification popped up on my smartphone’s social media feed—an upload from Eisen Armstrong Luigi, President of the United States.
The video, barely 20 seconds long, showed the president in a suit, staring earnestly into the camera.
[My long-time friend, the one from West Virginia, informed me five minutes ago of their plans.]
He continued.
[They will challenge the S-rank Tower in Ganghwa Island, Korea. I wish them the best of luck. May God bless you.]
“…We did talk about this yesterday.”
Now, the world would know.
The Cosplay Maid, or her master, was such a force that even the U.S. President received mere notification of their actions.
Soon, leaders worldwide would reach out to Luigi for clarification.
And his response?
I only just learned of it myself. I cannot issue orders to them.
– Rest assured, my friend. As you requested, no one in the U.S. government will know you’re challenging the Ganghwa Tower.
Only the person who handed me the black card and their closest aides knew the truth.
– To prove that even the U.S. cannot control you, we’ve deployed agents to other S-rank Towers. Be it Korea or elsewhere, let them assume we’re mistaken.
A figure whose movements even the U.S. government can only anticipate but never control.
Naturally, even in the U.S., voices of criticism would arise against the President.
‘If you’re such a close friend, why didn’t you find out beforehand?’
– Oh, don’t worry about political attacks against me. For the sake of your freedom, I am willing to be labeled incompetent by my opponents. For you, my friend.
President Luigi was cheering us on.
A force of nature.
Soon, the entire world would know.
Me, the Summoner.
Sending summons wherever I wish to go.
“Alice. Sync with the PC.”
A faint light seemed to flow through the jack connecting the PC and the smartphone, and the game screen on the monitor gradually came into focus.
[Elaine: I’m ready, Master.]
[Kiharu: This body is ready too.]
In the game, Elaine, dressed in a black suit, stood on the massive circular elevator leading to the boss room.
[Elaine: The limit for this raid is 10 minutes. If I fail to defeat ‘Storm Dragon Shahabuth’ within 7 minutes…]
Elaine drew her sword, her stance shifting into a combat-ready posture.
[Elaine: The rest is up to you, Master.]
“Leave it to me.”
Ten minutes.
If delayed, the scavengers waiting to steal the glory would swoop in.
“We’d better finish this before the kill-stealers show up.”
Failing here would indeed be humiliating.
“If we clear this S-rank Tower, no one will ever be able to manipulate or control us again.”
If we succeed, we will live as we see fit, free from any external pressure.
“Then…”
[Elaine: Entering.]
The boss room.
Entry.
The elevator stopped at the Tower’s summit.
From the sky, a green dragon, easily dozens of meters in length, coiled in midair and began descending toward the rooftop.
“Elaine, do you think—”
Heh.
A quiet chuckle escaped Elaine’s lips.
[Elaine: I’ll take it down within three minutes, Master. Just give me the timing.]
“Timing?”
[Elaine: Yes. I’ll handle the dodging and slashing.]
Clink.
Elaine adjusted her grip on her sword.
[Elaine: Use me at the most perfect moment.]