Chapter 2

Only one restaurant was open in a corner of the dilapidated alleyway, though it did not have a store sign.

There was only one clue as to what sort of place it was: the sticker that said “Hangover Soup” on the metal sliding door that screeched every time it was opened or closed. Despite this, the restaurant was packed, with a line outside the door.

The only menu items were hangover soup—haejang-guk—going for fifteen thousand won a bowl and some drinks. Near the menu on the wall hung faded posters and laminated autographs. Rather than autographs from celebrities, they were...

The best hangover soup

-Hunter Wonwoo Bae

The cabbage leaves are great!

-Hunter Hyejin Yang

...hunter autographs.

A boy with black hair skillfully wove through the packed restaurant. He wore a black apron with a soju brand logo over his gray hoodie. He was carrying a tray piled with large bubbling stews.

“Your hangover soup is here.”

“Ooh, thank you.”

“Two hangover soups over here, please!”

“Got it.”

“Also, two additional bowls of rice.”

“Be right there.”

The boy looked at the tables meaningfully to commit the orders to memory, then went toward the kitchen before a man with a shaved head stopped him.

“Hey, could we get more soju?” the man asked loudly.

“No. This is already your second bottle.”

“What are you talking about? I only had one.”

“I saw you put the empty bottle in your inventory. It’s a no.”

The boy pointed at a sign next to the sparse menu. The vigorous strokes of Sharpie on regular A4 printer paper seemed to convey the writer’s finality.

Each table is limited to TWO BOTTLES of soju!*

*To prevent trouble or fights

The boy collected the empty bowls and dishes from the next table and took them to the kitchen. The man took an empty soju bottle from the air with embarrassment, and the man sitting across the table scolded him.

“See? I told you. That part-timer always knows how much anyone has drank. It’s two bottles. That’s it.”

“He has eagle eyes. I put it away with more agility than when I kill monsters. You swear he’s not a hunter?”

He was.

However, the other man shook his head. “I asked Han. They said he’s a commoner.”

“You sure? You know that trend these days: stealth talent hunters. You sure he’s not one of those or someone unregistered?”

“Pshaw. The fine for being unregistered is ginormous. And if he was a stealth talent, why would he be part-timing at some hangover soup restaurant when he could be collecting the loot in all the dungeons instead?”

The boy, whose back was to them, couldn’t help but flinch.

The man with the shaved head did not notice. He nodded in agreement. “True. Stealth talents are always desperate to show off somehow.”

“Han is planning to recruit that kid once he’s awakened. If he’s like this and hasn’t awakened yet, he’s going to be at least class-B or...”

The boy left the conversation about him behind and entered the kitchen. He filled a basin with water and smirked.

I probably awakened faster than you. Recruited by some random hunter, huh...?

His name was Uijae Cha.

He possessed stupendous hand-eye coordination that allowed him to move empty soju bottles without making a sound. He could lift multiple heavy pots of stew at a time with his great strength.

He was indeed a stealth talent hunter, but there was a reason he stayed at this dilapidated restaurant instead of clearing the dungeons of loot.

* * *

A few months earlier, Uijae had opened his eyes and found himself in a pile of trash. He had no idea how long he had been out. He could barely blink his eyes. His ravaged senses began to come back to him.

“Where am—? Urgh!”

An awful stench made him immediately nauseous. There wasn’t much food in his system, but he threw it all up like someone with germaphobia. The world spun. He didn’t even have the strength to twitch a finger.

Strange monsters had poured out of the dusty white devastation. Yes, the last thing he remembered was sticking his knife into the head of a basilisk, and then...

He saw a giant dark hole in the middle of the velvety blue night sky. When it had first appeared, it seemed to portend the end of the world. Now, it was an everyday sight. Imagining the sky without it was nearly impossible. Nickname: black hole.

The black hole is not visible inside the fissure. This meant that he had returned to reality. His senses sharpened, and he started to grasp his situation. The next thing he felt was a biological instinct.

“Hungry...”

I need to eat something.

Uijae tried to stand up, pressing against the haphazard pile of trash. He leaned against a soiled wall and caught his breath. The vomiting had exhausted him. He advanced by dragging himself against the wall like a mollusk.

He made his weak legs go on until he caught the scent of greasy meat cooking. Uijae’s eyes widened instinctively. He looked around until he saw a light at the end of the alleyway and continued to drag himself in that direction.

He reached a shabby restaurant without a sign. An old woman was sitting inside with her back to the sliding door. The grandmotherly lady turned slowly at the sound of movement. She was peeling garlic cloves.

Uijae leaned his head against the glass. He mumbled, “Are you... open?”

He was a mess, all skin and bones. His legs trembled violently, and his shaking made his question barely comprehensible. He couldn’t even correct himself.

Instead of screaming at the sight of someone who looked like a panhandler who had barely escaped a murderer, the old woman got up and opened the door.

“What’re you standin’ there for? Come on in.”

Uijae was met with warm air and the scent of meaty soup. He looked down at the old woman with a dazed look.

“Why’re you in such a state, boy? Fall into some mud, did you? You back from a dungeon or whatchamacallit?”

“Y-yes...”

The old woman clicked her tongue and waved for him to sit down wherever he liked before she vanished into the kitchen. Uijae dragged himself to the most remote table in the restaurant.

The old woman placed a bowl of rice and white bone soup in front of him. “Eat up. It’s still too early for the hangover soup.”

Uijae didn’t say a word.

“If you don’t like it, throw it away.”

Uijae was looking down at the food with confusion. Finally, he bowed and looked up at the old woman. She returned to peeling the garlic cloves.

Now that there was food in front of him, his hunger was unbearable. He devoured it all.

His body gradually stopped trembling from cold and hunger as the white bone soup warmed him from the inside out. As he ate spoonfuls of rice with his soup, Uijae absentmindedly wondered whether the light he had seen from the other side of the alleyway was the old woman’s halo.

When his hunger was allayed somewhat, he took in the restaurant: the CRT television on the shelf; the washed-out soju poster and the old fan on the wall; the large calendar that must have been a handout from some random organization. The old restaurant had all the marks of age.

He wondered how much time had passed since he had gone into the fissure. Uijae looked at the calendar.

It’s the year two-thousand... what?

He blinked in disbelief. The year on the calendar was eight years fast. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t misreading it, but of course, the printed numbers did not change.

Uijae stopped breathing. The recovery of his senses was about to slip away again. In the midst of his confusion, he continued to spoon the remaining soup from the bowl. He decided to try to calm his stomach if he couldn't calm his head.

A clear voice came out of the CRT television above the shelf.

“Eight years ago today, a class-5 fissure appeared in the West Sea.”

Eight years ago? Uijae swallowed more soup.

“The fissure swiftly upgraded to class-1. The government sent class-S hunter J, fourteen class-A hunters, and thirty class-B hunters into the fissure. A week later, the fissure died out, but the hunters never returned.”

Photos of familiar faces appeared in rows on the screen. They were the people he had desperately rummaged through a mountain of corpses for.

Uijae felt a prickle in his heart. He strived to ignore it as he continued to watch the TV. They finished showing the photos of the class-B and class-A hunters. Lastly, they showed the photo of the class-S hunter, J, whose face was fully covered by a black mask, alone.

“Three months after the fissure’s extinction, the Bureau of Awakened announced that all who had entered the fissure were declared dead.”

The narration finished. The TV screen moved on. Uijae put the spoon in his mouth. He hadn’t ladled any soup or rice.

Dead? They’re all dead, including class-S hunter J?

He kept moving his hand, unaware that he was spooning thin air. A middle-aged man appeared on the screen to make closing remarks. A box below his face read Joheon Song | Class-S Awakened | Samra Guild Leader.

“Our country would have had no future without J. We lost a hero in Incheon eight years ago. J and the forty-four hunters who bravely entered the fissure gave us a future. We must keep looking ahead in honor of their sacrifice.”

The man spoke solemnly with a grave expression on his face.

“This has been To J, a memorial documentary on the West Sea Class-1 Fissure Memorial. Thank you for watching.”

A line at the bottom of the screen read This program was produced thanks to the support of the Pado Guild and the Bureau of Awakened. The screen went black.

Uijae went through his memories several times to figure out if he had heard correctly.

“...all who had entered the fissure were declared dead.”

“We lost a hero in Incheon eight years ago.”

“This has been To J, a memorial documentary on the West Sea Class-1 Fissure Memorial.”

Am I dreaming? Will I wake up again if I close my eyes and open them?

Yet, he also knew this was reality. The black hole he had seen earlier, his stomach—now full of stew—and the sound of his spoon clattering to the floor all told him that this was the case.

Uijae held his head. He couldn’t hide his shock. It couldn’t be true that all the hunters that had been sent to the West Sea fissure had died. It was impossible.

Hunter J, Uijae Cha, was the only survivor. He was here, right now, eating soup with rice!