Hiding a House in the Apocalypse

The distance between the monster and me is less than 30 meters.

It’s the range at which the reflective field begins to lose its significance.

However, not all monsters have the same minimum range for their reflective field.

A 5th-level Awakened can activate a reflective field at least 5 meters away.

If I trust the hypothesis that there’s no significant difference between Awakened beings and monsters, the minimum range for the reflective field can vary depending on the individual.

But before considering that, what I need to do is observe.

Monsters behave entirely differently from humans.

There are exceptions, but monsters don’t immediately attack just because a human is nearby.

Monsters are like machines, standing between living beings and inanimate objects, acting according to algorithms, like a program.

And purely in my own opinion, monsters can read intent.

They can sense the thoughts of humans who intend to kill them and have a habit of striking first against such individuals.

This is an opinion I haven’t even written in my reports.

It’s too subjective, and, like most theories about monsters, it’s almost impossible to prove.

But hunters who have been in battle, especially veterans who have faced countless monsters, shared similar thoughts.

For instance, Ma Won-gap, the one who created that cult, didn’t believe that monsters wouldn’t attack just because they passed by. He was probably so panicked at the time that he couldn’t even look after himself, let alone think of killing monsters.

Monsters don’t bother with people in a state of panic.

Monsters primarily counterattack those who directly assault them, and only rarely attack those who harbor the intent to kill them first.

Entrusting my fate to this unproven theory, I glance out of the observation deck at the pale-gray creature.

Its height is about 3.5 meters.

Its form is more humanoid than a necromancer-type, which is typically a grotesque, elongated, diamond-shaped head.

Unlike that, this one has a more human-like head.

Though it doesn’t show sensory organs like eyes, nose, mouth, or ears, its hollow cheeks and oval-shaped structure evoke a chilling feeling, as if this being had maliciously mimicked human features from the cracks in another world.

But its frozen form, situated somewhere between life and inanimate, doesn’t differ much from other monsters I’ve seen.

What concerns me more is the engine sound of the armored vehicle.

The armored vehicle, which had approached with its spotlight, is now pulling back.

Well, they’re probably moving out of the way because they’ve released a monster they can’t handle.

Boom boom!

Another thunderclap cracks.

This one’s closer.

Lightning strikes a nameless tree, lighting up the mountain ridge with a red glow.

Then, far off, I hear the sound of a loudspeaker, carried by the wind and rain.

“The rumors must have been true.”

There’s no way to respond to that.

I could shout back, but I don’t feel the need to communicate that way.

“I heard the old-school hunters in China killed more people than monsters.”

I won’t deny it.

There were far more humans than monsters, and they came at us in groups.

As I moved further back, this trend intensified.

“They say we’re like human butchers. They’ve done a great job killing our children like this. It’s amazing, really. I even got some butchers from Pyongyang to sit there, but none of them killed our cadets like you did. I’ll give you credit, Professor. Not as a monster hunter, but as a human butcher.”

Listening silently, I’m a bit surprised.

The low-level Awakened. The ones controlling the government in Jeju—did they really harbor this much inferiority toward us old-school hunters?

Even my friends from Gaeseong, and Baek Seung-hyun, why do they have so much jealousy toward us?

We haven’t done anything to them.

Is it the inferiority complex of the unqualified ones caught between old-school hunters and high-level Awakened?

Or perhaps it’s the sense of complicity that the unqualified ones have created for themselves?