Becoming a Hunter in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 10: The Evil Puppeteer (3)

The puppet’s approaching eyes lost focus—or rather, the lenses within them repeatedly contracted and expanded.

As if locking onto a target.

‘Now!’

Gale wasn’t the type to stand still while his enemy hesitated.

He lunged in close to the puppet and swung his sword in a wide arc.

Crack!

The impact felt heavier than bone, but he succeeded in severing its left arm. He went for the right next, but—bzzzt, bzzt—the puppet’s mechanical eyes locked onto him.

“The Creator’s enemy is my enemy. Eliminating.”

A sharp killing intent radiated from the opponent.

Gale instinctively understood: this thing had the strength to rival any formidable enemy he had ever faced.

The moment he realized that, he pulled back, widening the distance. He focused entirely on the enemy before him, even forgetting to breathe.

And then—in the blink of an eye—his opponent vanished and reappeared at his side.

‘Too late to dodge! Then—I’ll minimize the damage!’

Gale twisted his body just enough to shield his vital organs.

Whoosh!

With expert precision, the puppet drove its fist into Gale’s abdomen.

Almost simultaneously—a kick aimed at his back.

The one-two combo was both powerful and precise. Lethal, even.

Fortunately, Gale was a seasoned mercenary who had faced countless opponents with a wide variety of fighting styles. With agile movement, he narrowly avoided a direct hit.

Just when he thought he had some breathing room—

“…!”

He managed to evade the flurry of blows by a paper-thin margin—but the final strike landed clean.

The first two moves had been feints—to set up the real attack.

A heavy blow slammed into his back!

“Gahk!”

Thud—!

The force of the impact knocked Gale back. He tumbled, spat blood, and crashed into a tree.

“Khak! That power…”

Dizzy, Gale staggered to his feet. Even with the hit partially absorbed, his vision had nearly gone dark.

If he’d taken it head-on, he might’ve been knocked out cold—or worse.

“…Would’ve been dead. Or worse, become the next material for that lunatic’s masterpiece.”

Shivering slightly, Gale calmed himself and began strategizing.

He was prepared to do anything to win.

‘A single punch or kick could be fatal.’

The sheer force was like being hit by a runaway carriage.

Since the puppet was a martial arts master, its entire body was a weapon.

‘And it’s not just the body…’

He’d seen it before—back when he was with that brat.

The madman’s puppets had all sorts of bizarre mechanisms.

They contorted at unnatural angles, separated and reassembled, and launched surprise attacks—

And blades popped out without warning!

“This… is no joke.”

Even if the puppet was made using Jaigo’s son as a base, the core abilities remained intact.

That meant all of those factors had to be taken into account.

It was obvious.

One mistake and he’d either die—or wish he had.

“Ugh… I’m charging extra for this. You better believe I’m charging a fortune!”

Sure enough, Gale shouted in frustration while parrying a sudden rain of needle projectiles.

His voice trembled with injustice.

“…What the hell happened to this job?”

A simple village reconnaissance mission had turned into something bloodier than a warzone…

He racked his brain, but there was only one answer.

—“Hi, I’m Elwin.”

That brat!

It was definitely that brat’s fault!

Ever since meeting Elwin, Gale’s peaceful, routine life had become a damn action movie.

‘A chase scene, a village in flames, corpse puppets, Hunters… Don’t tell me there’s more to come. I’m starting to get scared, you little punk!’

…Of course, Gale knew it wasn’t really Elwin’s fault.

Things had spiraled out of control, snowballing into this mess.

But—

“You better be ready to cough up big, brat. I’ll show you how petty adults can be!”

It was just a desperate excuse to keep himself sane amid the chaos.

A bit of self-hypnosis—telling himself a sweet reward would come after this brutal battle.

Gale threw a knife at the puppet to buy time, then ducked into a hollow tree.

“Reacquiring target. Reacquiring target.”

He felt the puppet pass by.

Exhausted, Gale slumped down.

“Khk!”

Blood smeared the inside of the tree as he moved.

“Damn it… That first hit did a number on me.”

And another thing—the puppets didn’t bleed.

But humans did. And if a human lost too much blood, they died.

Shhhk.

Gale tore part of his shirt and fashioned a makeshift bandage, roughly wrapping the wound.

Then he downed a potion from his kit.

It was a powerful coagulant and painkiller.

‘I can’t lose focus. No matter what…!’

Gale clenched his teeth and repeated it like a mantra.

Because he suffered from Berserk Syndrome—a condition that caused him to lose control and go wild at the sight of blood.

It could be seen as a useful ability—if you ignored the fact that he couldn’t distinguish friend from foe.

One mercenary he’d worked with in the past had even called it his “ultimate move.”

‘I’m human.’

But Gale hated it with every fiber of his being.

The aftermath—the carnage, the hollow feeling of becoming a beast—

—“Monster! You’re a monster…!!!”

And the way people looked at him afterward—with fear and disgust.

He didn’t know the cause. Didn’t know when it had started.

His past had vanished without a trace.

He had simply been—at some point.

Even the name “Gale Garav” had been given to him.

It wasn’t his real name. Just something he’d adopted over time.

He had no roots. No memories.

He had just lived—drifting.

And the place where all the nameless, cast-off people ended up…

…was the mercenary world.

“…Can’t be preaching to others right now. Get it together, Gale Garav.”

His eyes, once clouded, lit up with sharp clarity.

“You’re human. Don’t become a monster.”

He stood.

Rest had to be short. Any longer, and it would become a liability.

“My opponent has the advantage. Which means…”

“I just need to drag them down to my level.”

Gale’s eyes scanned the terrain with practiced sharpness.

Then he pulled a silver thread spool from his coat.

White Snake’s Web—a specialty item he’d gone through hell to acquire.

Transparent, sticky, and absurdly strong—perfect for restraints.

And that wasn’t the only thing he had prepared.

Fwhipfwipfwip—!

As he moved deeper into the forest, Gale strung White Snake’s Web between the trees.

He laid the trap as precisely as a spider preparing to catch its prey.

“Target successfully located! Commencing pursuit!”

Just then, a puppet spotted him in the distance. Gale could feel its presence rushing toward him at terrifying speed.

“That’s it.”

Gale grinned.

“Keep chasing me, just like that.”

Crack. Rip. Snap!

The puppet charged forward, plowing through every obstacle in its path. Most likely, its body was already tangled in the webs.

Gale continued unwinding the threads as he ran—until he reached a ravine and came to a halt.

“Unexpected situation encountered. Unexpected situation encountered. No related data. Awaiting next directive.”

When he turned, the puppet was completely entangled in the webs, thrashing helplessly.

“Just as I thought.”

While it had more advanced capabilities than the slaughter-driven puppets from earlier, the “completed” puppet still lacked sentience.

Gale’s prediction had been spot on: once the target was in sight, it charged ahead without any tactical consideration.

“Though... the puppets in the village at first did show intelligence, didn’t they? …No idea what’s going on anymore. Anyway—next step.”

Ssssst.

Gale pulled a lighter from his coat, lit it, and tossed it into the air.

“Time for a little fireworks show~!”

Splash—!

Grinning, Gale dove into the ravine.

As the lighter traced a graceful arc and made contact with the webs—and the puppet caught within—

BOOOOOM—!

The path Gale had used to flee through the forest exploded all at once.

The puppet was no exception. In fact, it was the very epicenter of the blast.

Bubbling, crackling.

As the roar faded, Gale resurfaced from the ravine.

“Pwah! Did it work?!”

He craned his neck like a giraffe to get a better view—and saw—

“Yes! Nailed it!”

Shattered pieces of the puppet were scattered all over.

Gale’s plan had been simple: a White Snake’s Web explosive trap.

The webs, commonly used by mercenaries, functioned as sturdy rope—but when ignited, they exploded.

The ones Gale carried were top-grade, too—producing far stronger blasts than usual.

“Was kinda hoping to bring him back in one piece, since I officially took the request… But I guess his limbs are gonna be all over the place now.”

Though the puppet had been desecrated after death, it was once a human being.

He’d wanted to deliver an intact body for a proper burial if possible.

“Well, the Hunter guy will understand. He knows better than anyone how strong his kid was.”

Scratching his head, Gale collected the puppet’s scattered torso and limbs.

He gathered them safely in one spot, then covered them with large leaves to keep wild animals away.

“Hoo boy… I’m gonna drop dead out here…”

Groaning, Gale trudged off. His job wasn’t done yet.

He returned to the place where he’d last seen Jaigo.

Comparing the memory to the current state of the area, he clicked his tongue.

“Looks like they had a hell of a fight here too.”

Just as Gale had torched part of the forest during his battle, the fight between Jaigo and Molga hadn’t been kind to the terrain either.

Trees with spikes embedded in them, trunks split horizontally, others blasted apart by mana…

He couldn’t help but feel guilty toward nature.

Following the trail of destruction, Gale eventually spotted a familiar figure.

A tall man, built like a mountain, with ash-brown hair streaked with white.

A massive greatsword stuck into the ground beside him like a signpost.

Low-rank Hunter—Jaigo.

“Hey! Hunter guy!”

Gale waved wildly as he ran over.

“Hunter guy! Did you finish avenging your son?”

“…”

“Hey! You deaf or something? Ignoring me again?!”

Offended, Gale stormed up and grabbed Jaigo’s shoulder.

“C’mon, at least tell me how it went—”

But the expression Jaigo turned toward him was blank, hollow.

“…What happened?”

Gale’s tone grew serious.

Though shaken by his son’s death, Jaigo had always struck him as the type with unshakable resolve.

If he was spaced out like this again, something serious must’ve happened.

“Spit it out. You trying to make me fail my request?”

“U-Um. Well, you see…”

Jaigo averted his gaze, his voice meek.

It made him look—oddly sheepish.

“I… I ran away…”

“…Huh?”

Gale blinked blankly, as if he’d just heard an alien language.

Once the meaning settled in—

“EHHHHHHHHH?!”

—he let out a shriek of disbelief.

Of course, let it be said now:

That… didn’t actually happen.