Chapter 36: Episode 36 – 'A Plan for Power"

Chapter 36: Episode 36 – “A Plan for Power" Episode 36 – "A Plan for Power" Number 2 hit the wall like a ragdoll thrown by a gust of godly wind, crashing into the polished concrete with a hollow, echoing thud that seemed to silence even the buzzing refrigerator near the counter. Blood smeared down the beige paint like crimson ink from a ruptured pen, leaving behind a streaked trail as his limp form slid to the floor. His eyes were half-lidded, dazed, his nose clearly broken, and his lips trembling as they gurgled with the first signs of internal damage. His left arm twitched out of instinct, but the rest of him lay still. The atmosphere within the small hunter café dropped instantly, like a switch had been flipped. It had started as a calm, almost cozy spot—a quiet corner of the hunter district, its windows fogged by steam from boiling kettles and the warmth of bodies resting between raids. The gentle hum of conversation, the clink of ceramic cups, the scent of roasted beans and buttered toast. All of it shattered in an instant. "Damn," the attacker muttered, cracking his knuckles as he stared at his handiwork. His voice was low and lazy, laced with arrogance rather than remorse. He wasn’t even sweating. "I didn’t even hit that hard." Kim Do-hyun (김도현) stood still for a heartbeat, trying to process what he had just witnessed. His clone, Number 2, was supposed to be disposable in theory, a summoned shell of himself... but seeing him like that, limp and bleeding, stirred something strange and ugly in his chest. He didn’t answer the man. Instead, Do-hyun slowly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. A soft click. Record. "You’re not even gonna check if he’s alive?" the man asked, but now his voice had changed. His eyebrows twitched as he watched the phone, realization creeping in. Do-hyun finally looked up at him, calm but with steel behind his gaze. His voice was low but carried weight. "Violence... in a registered hunter café? Against an unarmed target? While being filmed?" He tilted the phone a little to emphasize the recording. "You sure you’re not the one who needs to check if you’re still alive... career-wise?" The man froze. The air thickened. Even the barista, who had frozen mid-froth, took a small step back. Silence returned to the café, but this time it was heavy, unnatural. Like the kind of stillness before lightning splits the sky. The attacker looked around, his previous swagger melting into raw nerves. He turned his back and muttered something under his breath in a sharp dialect—quick, panicked—and then made for the exit. Fast. Almost too fast for someone who was supposed to be proud and unshaken. His boots clomped across the wooden floor as he bolted out into the street, the door slamming behind him like punctuation on a coward’s retreat. Do-hyun stood still, watching the timestamp on his phone screen tick up to forty-two seconds before finally stopping the recording. He let out a quiet breath and walked over to Number 2. The clone had already begun dissolving into flickering particles, absorbed back into the system. A trail of blood still stained the floor. "That guy’s gonna have nightmares," muttered the café manager from behind the counter. Do-hyun turned his head. The manager was middle-aged, wearing a green apron over a buttoned shirt, sleeves rolled up past his elbows. His expression was grim, the same kind of grim worn by people who’ve had to clean up too many messes in too few years. "That guy..." Do-hyun began cautiously. "You know him?" The manager wiped his hands on a rag and leaned against the counter. "I don’t know him by name. But he’s been here before. Loud type. No respect. Likes to swing fists before saying hello." "Hunter?" "Yeah. Probably B-rank. Maybe A. From the way he acts, he’s used to throwing his weight around." Do-hyun narrowed his eyes. "He said this place was sacred to hunters. Why swing at someone here, then?" The manager let out a low chuckle, but it held no humor. "Sacred doesn’t mean safe. Especially not these days. Not with Hae-seong involved." "Hae-seong..." Do-hyun repeated, the name settling uncomfortably in his chest. "Yeah. That guild," the manager confirmed with a slow nod. "That guy was probably one of theirs. Hae-seong’s got a long reach. Especially in places like this. Hunter cafés, training dojos, even market alleys." Do-hyun frowned, stepping closer. "But why come after WN Agency? You’re not a threat." The manager’s smile faltered. "Because we’re too honest," he said after a pause. "Every time we try to recruit someone, someone like that guy shows up. Starts a fight. Causes a scene. People leave. They get scared. Think we’re cursed. Even our own clients walk out." There was a bitter sort of truth in his tone, the kind of honesty spoken only when all other words fail. It wasn’t self-pity—it was resignation. Do-hyun scratched the back of his neck. "That explains why I was getting dirty looks from the moment I stepped inside." "Exactly. The moment you walked in," the manager replied, nodding. "One of those Hae-seong guys started watching you like a hawk. Like you stepped on his turf. Which is crazy because last I checked, this was my damn café." "So they’ve been sabotaging you?" Do-hyun asked, just to confirm. "From day one," the manager said, voice tight. "And I won’t lie to you. It might get worse. I can’t promise you anything. Not safety. Not neutrality. If you side with us, you’ll be targeted too." "I already made my choice," Do-hyun said firmly, lifting his chin. "I knew what I was getting into the moment I joined hands with you." The manager’s eyes softened slightly, but he still looked like he wanted to say more. Before he could, though, Do-hyun leaned closer and dropped his voice. "Actually, I’ve got a plan," he said with a glint in his eye. "A crazy one. But if it works, I’ll get strong. Really strong. Really fast." The manager blinked. "Strong how?" Do-hyun only grinned. "Let me explain." And just like that, he leaned in, motioning for the manager to do the same. They lowered their voices and began talking in hushed tones, fast but precise. The occasional hand gesture, a spark of energy flickering in Do-hyun’s fingers as he mimicked the system interface. He pulled out his phone again—not to record this time, but to display a series of diagrams and calculations. Clone synchronization. Experience gain mechanics. Skill feedback loops. Even a sketch of a Hunter market map with red circles drawn on stalls and booths. But we, the readers, would never be allowed to hear it. That sly bastard. He explained everything to the manager, every detail of his plan, every loophole and risky move... but he left us hanging in the dark like gossips behind a closed door. What we did get, though, was the manager’s reaction. When Do-hyun finally leaned back, arms crossed and smug as hell, the manager was staring at him like he’d just grown a second head. "Ya... 미쳤다," the man muttered in Korean, stunned. "You’re outta your damn mind." Do-hyun only laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "What do you think, you rascal?" The manager rubbed his face and chuckled nervously. "It’s wild, man. I never would’ve thought of that." Do-hyun tilted his head. "So?" There was a pause, the kind that only happens when two people are about to do something they know they’ll regret, but do it anyway because it’s either that or give up. "Tomorrow," the manager said at last. "Hunter Market. Two o’clock." Do-hyun smiled. Not the usual fake grin, not the polite kind. This was different. A real one. The kind that meant trouble. The kind that meant something big was coming. He turned and started walking away, slipping his phone back into his pocket. Behind him, the café resumed breathing. The barista hit the steam wand again. Someone sipped coffee. A napkin dispenser clattered back into place. But for Kim Do-hyun... the world had already shifted. Tomorrow. Two p.m. --- Author’s note Hey everyone ???? Just wanted to take a moment to thank you for reading and supporting this story. Writing this novel takes a lot of energy, effort, and love—and every single little bit of support from you means the world to me. Whether it’s a simple like, a thoughtful comment, a power stone vote, or even a gift—nothing is too small. Seriously. Even one coin matters to a poor author like me ???? If you’re enjoying this world and want to help me continue building it stronger and better, please consider sending in a small gift, leaving a comment, or just smashing that like button. 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