Upon entering the Association's Grand Hall, Hyun Woo was immediately enveloped by a subdued symphony of murmured conversations, natural light filtering through expansive windows, and the rhythmic flicker of digital panels. These stimuli evoked a poignant sense of reminiscence. Fragmented images coalesced in his mind: Mi Ra, with her assured smile and unwavering gaze; Lee Chan Min, meticulously inspecting equipment; and himself, imbued with an almost naïve optimism and an unshaken belief in the inevitability of their triumphs. The auditory ghosts of their voices reverberated within his consciousness, seemingly refracted by the hall's glassy surfaces. Yet, the temporal divide that now separated him from these memories was immense — an abyss defined by years of hardship, sorrow, and transformation.
Rather than proceeding directly to the decontamination registration, Hyun Woo opted to visit the "Hall of Memory" first. This commemorative space was situated within a distinct annex of the Association, linked to the primary edifice via an enclosed passageway. As he traversed the corridor, the illumination softened, diffusing into a tranquil ambiance that seemed to prepare visitors for the gravity of the experience awaiting them.
Upon pushing open the heavy double doors, he stepped into an expansive chamber characterized by its soaring, cathedral-like ceilings. An almost reverential silence prevailed, broken only by the subdued hum of an air circulation system. The walls, clad in a dark, matte finish, served as a stark backdrop for meticulously arranged LED-lit frames. Each frame encapsulated the essence of a hunter, presenting their photograph, full name, birth and death dates, and a succinct summary of their contributions and accolades. Interspersed among these rows of portraits were small tables adorned with vibrant flowers and artificial candles, their LED flames simulating the flickering light of traditional memorials.
The floor, composed of understated gray stone, absorbed rather than reflected light, cultivating an environment of introspection and solemnity. The hall eschewed excessive ornamentation in favor of a minimalist aesthetic that underscored the themes of remembrance and reverence. At the far end of the room, a soft, luminescent hologram of the Association's emblem — a white lotus — hovered, symbolizing purity and resilience, as though safeguarding the sanctity of those who had fallen in service.
As Hyun Woo navigated the rows of commemorative portraits, he consciously refrained from lingering too long on any single image. The emotional fortitude required to fully confront his grief had not yet coalesced. Reaching an electronic terminal positioned in an alcove, he extended a trembling hand to activate the interface. The screen illuminated gently, prompting him to input the names he sought. His fingers faltered slightly as he typed:
Choi Mi Ra
Lee Chan Min
A soft chime confirmed the system's reception, and the database initiated its search. Within seconds, the display outlined the precise locations of their memorial alcoves: row, section, and number. These spaces housed not only their photographs and biographical sketches but also served as receptacles for tokens of remembrance — flowers, letters, and cherished personal effects left by those who mourned them.
Hyun Woo exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of memory, and proceeded toward the specified section of the Hall of Memory. In this sanctified silence, he allowed himself to reconnect with those who had once walked beside him. Although the full tapestry of answers remained elusive, the act of affirming his comrades' enduring legacy imbued him with a renewed sense of purpose and direction as he continued to navigate the complexities of his own journey.
Following the instructions displayed on the terminal, Hyun Woo meticulously navigated the rows of photographs, names, and etched dates, until he reached the designated section. There, enclosed within carefully crafted frames, were the portraits of his comrades: Mi Ra — her warm, assured smile complemented by an unwavering gaze, and Chan Min — a serious yet benevolent figure, ever ready to protect his allies.
Lowering his head in a measured and deliberate motion, Hyun Woo offered a profound bow. For a few moments, he remained in contemplative silence, allowing the tide of emotions to crest and recede. A poignant ache of remembrance constricted his chest, yet within it, a nascent resolve stirred, compelling him to persevere and fight on.
Hyun Woo (quietly, his voice restrained): "Mi Ra, Chan Min… The aftermath of that day left me in the hospital for what felt like an eternity. My memory of the events is fractured, but I know something inexplicable occurred. Now, I possess something called the 'System.' Its workings remain elusive, but it provides me with strength — a means to train and evolve. Why it chose me remains a mystery."
He paused momentarily, his gaze traversing the countless rows of photographs. Each framed image represented a singular narrative, each life imbued with immeasurable value.
Hyun Woo (sighing, looking at Mi Ra's portrait): "Mi Ra-noona… I'm grateful for your selflessness, for shielding me when it mattered most. I'll never fully understand why I was spared. Chan Min-hyung, your courage in the face of adversity remains etched in my mind. You fought until the very end. I will endeavor to uphold the faith you placed in me, using my abilities with wisdom and intent. Your sacrifice will not be in vain."
Though his voice quivered faintly, his words carried a deliberate serenity and respect. He understood the irrevocable finality of loss but resolved to honor their memory through purposeful action.
Hyun Woo (softly, bowing his head again): "I will dedicate myself to growing stronger, overcoming fear, and wielding this newfound power for the betterment of all. If I can make this world a fraction better, as you both once did, I hope it will bring you pride."
Retrieving two pristine white flowers from his bag, Hyun Woo placed them delicately within a slender vase at the base of the portraits. Each movement reflected quiet reverence, an offering to those who had guided him.
Hyun Woo (with a faint smile, bowing once more): "Rest peacefully. Your memory will endure within me."
Straightening his posture, Hyun Woo wiped away a subtle hint of moisture from the corner of his eyes. With steadfast determination, he turned away and retraced his steps through the hallowed corridor, leaving the Hall of Memory. Before him lay the Grand Hall, a registration for his next mission, and the inexorable challenges awaiting him. Yet, his resolve was unwavering. The legacy of those who had walked beside him remained a guiding force, fortifying each step of his journey.
Returning to the Association's Grand Hall, Hyun Woo approached the expansive registration counter, where a team of clerks efficiently managed the flow of hunters. Their demeanor combined professionalism and warmth, punctuated by the occasional clarifying query. Stepping forward, Hyun Woo was met by a young woman in a neatly pressed uniform, her composure radiating both competence and approachability.
Clerk (politely, with a slight smile): "Hello! How may I assist you?"
Hyun Woo (calmly): "I'd like to register for a Gate-clearing mission. I'm looking for the most accessible options — E-Rank Gates."
With a nod, she accessed the database on her workstation. Her precise keystrokes reflected her familiarity with the system.
Clerk (inquiring): "Understood. Typically, E-Rank Gates require hunters to form teams for joint operations. Would you prefer to choose a specific group or…"
Hyun Woo's lips curved into a faint smile, anticipating her question.
Hyun Woo (cutting her off): "I'll join any available team heading to the next Gate. I have no preferences."
The clerk paused briefly, her expression tinged with curiosity. Most hunters voiced specific preferences — trusted allies or experienced teammates. Hyun Woo's neutrality was uncommon but not unwelcome.
Clerk (slightly surprised but without objection): "Understood. Let's see… One moment."
Leaning closer to her monitor, she reviewed schedules and group allocations. After a moment, she looked up.
Clerk: "May I see your Hunter Registration Card? I need to input your details."
From his pocket, Hyun Woo produced a plastic card embossed with the Association's holographic insignia. Accepting it, she scanned the card, which displayed his profile: name, rank, recent activities (notably sparse), and contact information.
Clerk: "Perfect, your details are in order. I'll register you now. The next team departs this afternoon… Here's the address for the meeting point."
Typing swiftly, she prepared a note, then handed back the card along with a printed slip containing instructions.
Clerk (cordially): "You need to be there by 2:00 PM. The location is in the warehouse district near the city's western gates. You'll meet the team leader there. Best of luck with your mission, Hunter."
Hyun Woo inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, accepting both items.
Hyun Woo (with a slight smile): "Thank you. I'll be there on time."
With measured steps, he exited the Grand Hall, his thoughts fixed on the challenges awaiting him. The day promised more than routine — it hinted at growth, trials, and perhaps revelations.
Following the provided directions, Hyun Woo arrived at the warehouse district, an industrial expanse defined by towering steel hangars and vacant loading bays. The air carried the mingled odors of oil and dust, underscoring the area's utilitarian character. While trucks maneuvered and occasional pedestrians hurried by, the hunters' gathering spots emitted a distinct energy.
Near one hangar, a loosely assembled group awaited their assignment. Their gear varied — leather armor, bladed weapons, staves, and enigmatic devices — each reflecting their tactical preferences. Conversing in hushed tones, they exuded an air of anticipation.
Hyun Woo approached a clerk in a gray uniform jacket adorned with the white lotus emblem. The clerk acknowledged him with a brief nod.
Clerk (in a neutral tone): "Hello. Your card, please."
Handing over his Hunter Registration Card, Hyun Woo observed as the clerk inserted it into a tablet and navigated the interface with practiced efficiency. The clerk's expression grew focused as he verified and confirmed the data.
Behind Hyun Woo, murmurs arose, distinct enough to catch his attention. Glancing subtly, he noted curious glances from a few group members. Their hushed voices carried snippets of conversation:
"Is that him? The one who survived…" "They say the odds were less than 10%..." "But how did he make it out?"
Hyun Woo remained composed, his focus inward. He knew rumors wouldn't vanish easily. His resolve to define himself through action, rather than words, strengthened.
Returning the card, the clerk maintained his efficient tone.
Clerk (succinctly): "You're registered. The team leader will arrive shortly. Wait here."
Hyun Woo nodded, gripping the card firmly. He stepped aside, positioning himself near the group while keeping a deliberate distance. Cognizant of the need for cooperation, he resolved to remain inconspicuous until action was required.