Before leaving the United States, President Luigi made me a proposal.
[How about creating a personal SNS channel or something like that?]
A channel through which I could officially communicate with the public.
[You wouldn’t even have to show your face. Just scribble down short posts like you’re writing a diary. Plenty of people already use SNS like that, including the one we DM each other on.]
Since I had no intention of revealing any personal information to the public, President Luigi brought up the idea.
“Is this something you’re saying as the President?”
[About 40% as the President, the remaining 60% as a friend.]
“You’re not suggesting this because you’re uncomfortable being my spokesperson all the time, are you?”
[Can I be honest?]
“Yes.”
[If it were within the U.S. or a nearby country, I’d be willing to take on that role. But it’s a bit much to speak on your behalf when it comes to S-rank Towers in other nations like Japan.]
“I understand.”
Luigi is the President of the United States. Given how burdensome his job already is with just U.S. affairs and politics, I couldn’t expect him to take on announcements for me whenever I go abroad.
[Don’t worry—I’m not going to burden any of your summons who specialize in electronic warfare. I’ll send you the account. It’s one that the government has been managing specifically for you. Just accept it and use it.]
“How do I log in…?”
[I’ll send a smartphone.]
So I received a smartphone.
I wondered if I had to log in to the account myself, but Luigi had been considerate enough to send me an SNS app fully set up in advance.
[I’ve assigned SNS management to people within the government whom I trust. Any offensive or strange comments will be deleted. Don’t worry about that.]
“Just manage it like how it’s done for celebrities. Not that I’m saying I am one—”
[You’re on a different level. An EX-rank Hunter deserves EX-level treatment. The same SNS management team that supported our top S-rank Hunters will be handling your account. So rest easy. Just refrain from posting overly personal photos.]
“Understood. I’ll use it just for announcements.”
At first, I only thought of it as an announcement tool.
[Hiya.]
But the moment my follower count exceeded 300 million, I was genuinely shocked by the platform’s sheer reach.
– This was definitely written by the U.S. government pretending to be the Master. It’s probably actually from the GDD. What do you think that stands for?
– The Master said he’d attack the S-rank Tower in Hawaii next!
– There’s no S-rank Tower in Hawaii, you idiot!
– Maybe he just meant “hiya” as in a casual greeting…?
– Or maybe it’s code for invading China. Huawei is a Chines—[CENSORED MESSAGE].
All I did was casually say hi, and suddenly the comment section exploded.
The servers nearly crashed, and I felt like asking any celebrity or S-rank Hunter I knew how to handle SNS properly.
Now that I had it—would I actually use it?
I would.
Because I couldn’t take what the journalists were doing.
‘Trash journalists are the same everywhere.’
There was that story about an American athlete who didn’t want their house made public. But one TV station sent reporters, found it, and revealed it—leading to serious consequences.
Hunters aren’t any different.
Even when I summon Illinois and live inside her, it’s to prevent the media’s metaphorical “camera lenses” from constantly peering into my life.
So—
“Ah.”
I launched a livestream linked to my SNS.
“Tower recs. Looking for suggestions on which S-rank Tower to clear next.”
That was all I said.
Beep.
<The broadcast has ended.>
“……”
And just like that, the press conference ended—completely contrary to my intentions.
Because the server crashed.
“…Oh well.”
I wasn’t exactly thrilled, but it’s not like I’m scared of standing in front of people.
“If it’s come to this, I’ll just take the fastest and surest path.”
I stood up.
“Time to blow up their headquarters.”
I’ll go myself.
* * *
“What?”
“The Master started a livestream?”
“Damn it, was he messing with us by calling this a press conference?”
While the reporters at the venue were busy reacting to the news on their smartphones—
“Hunter-nim, this is… well…”
“Please don’t think of this as some kind of wild goose chase.”
A government official bowed their head toward Red Ruler, who was standing alongside the representatives of the Hunters. But Red Ruler defended the Master without changing her expression.
“Did the Master ever say he’d hold the press conference at the press conference venue? Did he ask the hotel to convert the grand ballroom into a press room?”
“Well, he told the hotel manager…”
“We checked the CCTV. He said the press conference would be in about three minutes, but he never said where it would be. He never said he’d use the press room.”
“Isn’t that a bit too much of a defense?”
The government official’s face turned bright red in response to Red Ruler’s demeanor.
“Even if you admire the Master, this is too much. These people all gathered here—”
“Did anyone tell them to gather?”
“Red Ruler, even you—!”
“I’m here because I want to be here.”
Without a change in expression, Red Ruler lifted a finger and pointed upward.
“Just in case the noise and grumbling from people here reaches the Master… to stop him from deciding to attack another country’s Tower before even clearing the remaining S-rank Towers in Japan.”
As Red Ruler’s voice rose, pressuring those around her, people in the grand ballroom began to fall silent one by one.
“You all just saw it with your own eyes.”
Because—
“When he asked for Tower recommendations, that could mean Towers in other countries too, right?”
They didn’t know what might happen if they got on the Master’s bad side.
One wrong move and you could end up as public enemy number one.
“Tch… You can’t even say a word without people panicking.”
“H-Hey!”
But even then, someone couldn’t help showing their rebellious streak.
“What, are we going to die just for saying something? I mean, look at how many people are even he—”
Step. Step.
Along the red-carpeted path of the grand ballroom.
A man appeared, dragging along a pair of black-and-white striped slippers, his hands buried in the front pocket of a hoodie like he was out for a stroll.
Following closely behind him was a black-haired woman dressed in a perfectly prim and proper Victorian-era maid outfit, her posture demure and graceful.
No one could say a word.
No one had expected him to show up.
And behind him, the maid radiated an icy presence, as if she would unsheathe her sword the moment anyone dared approach her master.
At the press conference podium.
The young man sat at the very center, where a single microphone had been set, and the maid stood silently behind him.
“…Ah, aaah.”
The young man tapped the microphone a couple times before speaking in a quiet voice.
“Nice to meet you.”
Spoken in Korean—resounding in the heart of Tokyo, where government officials had gathered.
“The reason I’m here today… is to answer the questions you all might have.”
No time for translators.
“Because I want to clear S-rank Towers faster than anyone else.”
The Master paused briefly, then continued without hesitation.
“Towers are trials given to humanity, they are harbingers of our end. They’re ticking time bombs—we don’t know when the monsters inside might pour out and attack us. I may have gotten used to it now, but as someone who was once an ordinary person, I used to live in constant fear of not knowing when that catastrophe might strike.”
Someone cautiously raised a hand, but the Master, having clearly seen it, ignored it and kept speaking.
“Maybe the god who gave me this power intended for me to have this level of ability for a reason. A mission, perhaps. One that transcends race, nationality, gender, age, language, and culture. A mission to eliminate every Tower on this planet we call Earth and bring peace to humanity.”
Still dead serious, his expression never wavered.
“Some might call that overblown, say I’m being dramatic. Others might think I’m just another person drunk on newfound power. Some might even call me a tyrant who turns people into ‘Ironblood’ the moment they disagree with me. Think whatever you like. I have this to say in return.”
The Master tapped the mic again.
“If you don’t like it, go clear the S-rank Towers yourself.”
Clear Korean.
But the emotions embedded in those words needed no translation.
“Do not interfere with my clearing of S-rank Towers. From now on, anyone who does is my enemy. If you want to clear a Tower before me, go ahead. But if you attack me inside a dungeon—I’ll consider you Ironblood and fire the main cannon without mercy. There will be no warning shots. This is your warning.”
Through the lens of the camera, the Master’s declaration spread across the globe.
“I prefer clearing S-rank Towers without any interference. Even those who want to fight with me are a hindrance. Don’t try to help me. Instead, go clear Towers I can’t immediately get to, and ease people’s fear. That’s how you help me—if you want to help.”
“Master!!”
One reporter finally stood up and shouted.
“Even so, this is too—!”
Others tried to restrain the journalist, while the Master pulled away from the mic with a sigh, as if losing interest.
Crackle—!!
Something flashed white outside.
“W-What?!”
“That’s…!”
“Over Shibuya…?”
A colossal S-rank Tower, similar to the one that disappeared from Akihabara, suddenly materialized in the sky above Shibuya.
“W-What in the world—”
CRASH!!
Glass shattered.
“T-The Master is gone!!”
Before anyone realized it, the Master and the maid had vanished.
