Chapter 1

Prologue

"Here we go again."

Sahyeon let out a sigh, his brow furrowing.

"...Teacher!"

"Is that a seal skill?!"

The students shouted.

Silver-white restraints clasped around both of Sahyeon's wrists. Seal items.

"The infamous interrogator lets his guard down, and turns out he's nothing special, huh?"

The one who had fastened the restraints let out a snide laugh.

"I'll pay you back for every humiliation you put me through."

Another ex-convict, is it.

Sahyeon tilted his head at an angle.

How many times had he been ambushed now?

['Shock' — Hunter Prison Interrogator Revealed to Be Working as Academy Teacher]

[The Hunter World's Notorious Executioner... Hunter Community "Questioning Teacher Qualifications" in Backlash]

His identity, exposed to the world.

It had started after that. These annoying incidents never stopped coming.

'That Association President can't even keep the press in check.'

Sahyeon let out a thin sigh.

Since it's come to this, I might as well use the situation to my advantage.

The ex-convict glared at Sahyeon with fury-filled eyes.

"Because of your torture, I couldn't even go to the bathroom or eat for an entire week......!"

"Well, who told you to go around committing crimes?"

Sahyeon let out a scoff.

"A whole week?!"

The students murmured among themselves.

"That's kinda pitiful, isn't it?"

"Ugh, Euno hyung......"

"Are you insane? You think now's the time for that carefree crap? Teacher's hands are sealed right now!"

At that, the ex-convict twisted his lips into a grin, as if he'd been waiting for this.

"His hands being bound isn't all. These are S-rank items, no less. They're cursed to gnaw away at your stamina. In about an hour, they'll probably drain every last bit of it."

"......!"

"In other words, he dies."

Tension finally crept across the students' faces.

"What'd you say, you bastard?"

"Urk."

The ex-convict declared confidently.

"He won't be slipping out of those easily. I went all in — blew my entire fortune to get them, just to take him down."

Meanwhile, the man in question, Sahyeon, let out an utterly disinterested exclamation.

"Oh, really?"

He pulled the restraints taut.

They rattled as if they'd shatter with just a bit more force.

This is supposed to be an S-rank item?

Looks like he just threw his money away. Or maybe his entire fortune was just that modest, so this was the best he could get.

'Die in an hour, my ass.'

The so-called curse of the item felt like nothing more than a single grain of sand rolling around. Still, Sahyeon swallowed the rest of his words.

He wasn't caught off guard. No — even if he had been, there was no way he'd be subdued by some shoddy item like this.

"So he says."

He simply raised his bound wrists for the students to see, then turned to face them.

'It'd be a waste to just let a training partner who walked in on his own two feet leave.'

After all, there were no opportunities at the Academy to go all out in a hunter-versus-hunter fight.

The students' faces grew suitably grim.

"A-Are we really doing this ourselves......?"

"......Ugh, one hour is tight."

"Teach, just trust me!!"

The number of criminal hunters who had passed through Sahyeon's hands was in the hundreds.

He didn't even remember what crime this one had been imprisoned for.

But if the torture had lasted a full week, the man must have committed quite a few heinous acts.

A perfect opponent.

An experienced A-rank Hunter brimming with hostility. And on top of that, a convenient time limit.

Because crisis was what drew out the greatest growth.

Sahyeon's long, narrow eyes creased.

"Today's class will be replaced with live combat."

You'd better start pulling your weight soon so I can get my freedom back.

Former Hunter Prison Interrogator. Current Hunter Academy Teacher. Specialty: torture.

Today, too, he wishes for retirement from the Academy.

______________________

Chapter 1

When he opened his eyes, everything around him was pitch black.

The only light was a single beam illuminating the space above the man's head.

"......What the hell."

The man tried to move his body, then froze.

A cold, heavy sensation around his hands.

Restraints had been fastened to his limbs.

'No wonder I feel so weak.'

His abilities had been sealed.

The man clicked his tongue and relaxed his body. Then he quickly retraced the events before he'd lost consciousness.

'...Right. I was arrested by those Hunter Association bastards.'

Without a doubt, he had been changed into a sky-blue prison uniform.

The man muttered a curse and tilted his head back.

'Then this must be that underground prison.'

The very Hunter Penitentiary, said to be deep underground.

Every hunter who had been detained here was released as a docile lamb.

Perhaps thanks to that.

While the number of criminal hunters steadily increased worldwide, South Korea had held the undisputed first place in the World Public Safety Rankings — published annually by the International Hunter Association — for the past five years.

'Damn it. Just my luck.'

He shouldn't have trusted his client's bullshit about how there was absolutely no way they'd get caught this time.

The moment the man let out a sigh—

"You sleep for a damn long time."

A voice popped out of the darkness without warning.

A voice that felt eerily distorted, as if artificially altered.

The man's body went rigid.

There was another reason he was startled.

He hadn't sensed the voice's owner's presence at all.

'Even bound in restraints, I really couldn't sense anyone?'

His alarm lasted only a moment.

From beyond the reach of the light, footsteps echoed.

An unhurried, leisurely gait.

As the sound drew closer, a strange pressure — as if squeezing his heart — coiled around the man's entire body.

"Who's there?!"

The man deliberately raised his voice to hide his nerves.

And finally, a silhouette slowly emerged from the darkness.

An outfit like a pitch-black shadow from head to toe. And completely concealing the face......

"Hello."

A mirror mask.

The Mask adjusted his black leather gloves, then bent at the waist to meet the man's eye level.

"......"

The man's pupils trembled violently as he faced the mask before him.

His own pallid face reflected on the smooth surface of the mirror mask. The reflection was subtly warped, making it look somehow grotesque.

The Hunter Penitentiary's Mirror Mask.

It wasn't hard to guess who the figure before him was.

'Then this person is......'

The Prison Devil.

The protagonist of that famous hunter ghost story.

The man swallowed hard without realizing it.

"Quite the record you've got. Murder of a partner inside a Gate......"

The Mask spoke in a languid voice.

The Hunter Penitentiary's Interrogation Room. Among hunters, it was also known as the Brain Restructuring Room.

Because every hunter who had passed through this place spouted the exact same things.

"I'm sorry."

"Violence is wrong."

"I'll live as an upright person."

What kind of torture had turned these people — the kind who wouldn't bat an eye at killing one or two — into that?

Nobody knew for certain.

All that was known was that someone called the "Mirror Mask" was in charge of the Interrogation Room.

In truth, whether the man before him was the Mirror Mask or not didn't matter to the prisoner.

The man let out a snort.

"Why don't you save yourself the trouble? It'll be a waste of effort anyway."

Because I'm nothing like those weaklings.

There was no way this person could handle him, after all.

"Oh... and why's that?"

Amusement seeped through the artificially distorted voice.

At the dismissive attitude, the man's expression twisted into something ugly.

"Are your eyes broken? Can't you see my prisoner number?"

At the man's rough words, the Mask slowly lowered his grey gaze.

Where his eyes settled was the man's right breast pocket.

[A018]

"A-rank Hunter, Ranking 18th?"

The Mask's eyes leisurely scanned the black nameplate.

A prisoner number denoting a hunter's grade and ranking.

Its original purpose was to indicate a prisoner's threat level, but among criminal hunters, it was nothing more than a convenient way to show off.

"That's right."

The man smirked.

Does he finally have some idea who he's dealing with?

Awakened individuals made up less than 0.1% of the population.

Among those Awakened, A-rank Hunters comprised a mere 1%.

He was a man who ranked 18th in the entire Hunter Rankings.

"And by the next ranking update, I'll be in the top 10."

The man's chin rose arrogantly.

The restraints only sealed his skills and traits.

The A-rank physicals that had developed upon Awakening remained intact.

A level that ordinary Awakened could never hope to match.

Even if the Mask was an Awakened, it would be no different.

The mask concealed his identity, but there was no way an Awakened of a higher grade would be rotting away in some underground prison like this.

'Got worked up for nothing.'

It was almost embarrassing that he'd tensed up for a moment, swayed by rumors.

'If we'd met outside, he wouldn't even be worth one punch.'

He would've taught this insolent bastard — with that rude, informal way of speaking — a lesson he wouldn't forget.

But even in the face of the man's attitude, the response that came back was flat.

"Hmm, is that so?"

An indifferent voice drifted from behind the mask, as if utterly uninterested.

'So that's how you want to play it?'

The man's brow crumpled fiercely.

But soon he took a deep breath and cooled his anger.

It wasn't worth getting worked up over.

He just had to hold out a little longer, and he'd be out of this place.

"Keep acting all relaxed. You'll have to let me out soon anyway."

The Mask tilted his head at an angle, as if inviting him to continue.

The man hung a bitter smile on his lips and went on.

"It's the first Dungeon Break in five years. It's chaos out there."

"Ah. A Dungeon Break?"

"That's right. They're probably so short on manpower that they'll have to mobilize every criminal hunter — even the ones rotting in the deepest pits!"

Need he even mention himself, an A-rank?

The man spoke with unshakable confidence.

The Mask stared at the man in silence for a moment, as if thinking, then straightened his upper body and let out a small sigh.

"Can't be helped, then."

Had his words actually gotten through this time?

Just as the man was wearing a victor's smile—

"Number 18, I'll finish you up in two hours, special treatment."

The Mask said it lightly as he removed one leather glove.

The man let out a hollow laugh.

And that laugh carried straight into roaring laughter.

"Ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha! Two hours?"

The arrogance had crossed the line.

"Try two days — no, two months. See if I so much as blink."

Though by then, he'd probably be roaming the surface anyway.

Even in the face of the man's bravado, the Mask let out a quiet snort.

Then extended his ungloved hand toward the man.

"!"

Before he could even react, the Mask's hand seized the man's skull in an instant.

A grip he couldn't budge against.

The man's breath caught in his throat.

His trembling pupils collided with the chilling gaze beneath the mask.

"This'll hurt a bit."

Grey eyes staining blood-red.

Centered on those eyes, his vision spun into dizzying chaos.

***

About twenty minutes later.

"—AAAAAARGH! HACK— HACK!"

The man lay sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath.

The pain had come without end.

Limbs severed, skin sliced and pierced — agony had butchered every inch of his body.

And finally, a horrific pain as if his entire body were melting in lava.

'Hell. This is hell.'

To the point where death would be a mercy.

No — it had been a continuous stretch of suffering so agonizing it felt like he'd experienced death over and over again.

Unable to endure the pain, the man clawed at his own arm and screamed.

"Hnngh, hrrrgh. Please, please stop!!"

The forearm he was raking with his nails was already drenched in blood.

But he couldn't even feel the pain of it.

He was already consumed by an unidentifiable agony.

And then—

"Tsk, screeching loud enough to make my ears ring."

The man's ears caught the faint sound of a distorted voice.

The pain vanished in an instant.

"HAAAAH!"

The man expelled the breath that had been trapped inside him.

He breathed in ragged heaves, like someone who'd held their breath to the limit before finally letting go.

Once he'd recovered some semblance of breathing, he ran his hands over his own body like a madman.

'I'm fine?!'

The only wounds on his arms and the back of his neck were the ones he'd made himself.

The limbs that had felt torn off were still attached, and the body that had felt like dozens of blades had been driven into it was unharmed.

"N-No way."

All that vivid pain wasn't real?

The aftershocks still left his whole body tingling, and his hands and feet trembled beyond his control.

"Ranked 18th and already crying at this level... Really says something about the caliber of hunters these days."

The Mask clicked his tongue and looked down at him with contemptuous eyes.

It was a gaze that trampled the man's pride, but right now, he couldn't care less.

If he could just escape this hell.

The man barely managed to crawl on his knees and clutched at the Mask's legs.

"P-Please spare me! I was wrong about everything. Please, please stop, hnngh."

He had felt the difference in power firsthand.

He also understood in an instant why hunters called the Mask a "devil."

Even in the face of the man's desperate plea, the Mask didn't bat an eye.

"Already breaking down on me."

He merely propped his chin on one hand and muttered, as if bored.

"It hasn't even been thirty minutes yet."

"HIEEEEK!!"

It had felt like a week had passed, and yet not even thirty minutes had gone by.

That meant less than half of the time the Mask had stated had elapsed!

"I'm truly sorry. From now on, I'll live right — no harm to society, I swear......"

The man knelt and rubbed his palms together until they burned, begging with everything he had.

If he endured this nightmare for the full two hours straight, he might genuinely lose his mind.

The Mask hummed in his throat and answered.

"Really?"

"Yes, y-yes yes yes yes!"

The man nodded his head in rapid succession.

His vision shook dizzily to the point of nausea, but as if that mattered right now.

"Hmm......"

The Mask gazed down at those desperate eyes and hummed.

Could he possibly show mercy?

Just as the man's hopes were swelling at the delayed response—

The eyes behind the mask curved into crescents.

"No. There's no sincerity in your voice."

"Hnnngh......!"

This devil bastard!! What do you know?! I've never been this desperate in my entire life!!

The man screamed internally — unable to bring himself to say it aloud — and begged again.

"I'll really live as a good person, a good person from now on. I mean it! I'll use my abilities for volunteer work, put them to good use. I promise!"

Even against his desperate plea, the other party uttered only a curt reply.

"No."

"AAAAH— AAAAAAARGH, I don't want this either, I said I don't want thiiis!"

The Mask casually dismissed the man's words and was about to seize his skull again with force when—

KNOCK, KNOCK—

The metal door of the Interrogation Room rang out.

A neat, precise knock — cracking through the noise of the Mask's chaotic daily routine.

"Ha......"

The Mask's eyes narrowed in displeasure.

The Hunter Penitentiary's Interrogation Room. No one here could interrupt him.

No — no one even dared to try.

"Hurk!"

The man, who had been mid-scream, held his breath and clamped his mouth shut like he'd met his savior.

"Who is it?"

Beneath the mirror mask, red eyes narrowed.

CLANK—

Whether he'd interpreted the Mask's mutter as a signal to enter, the Interrogation Room door swung open.

"Sir Interrogator."

The mystery visitor revealed himself.

A young man in a neat suit.

He glanced at the prisoner slumped on the floor in his wretched state, dressed in his prison uniform, and furrowed his brow ever so slightly.

Returning to his original businesslike demeanor, the visitor parted his lips.

"The Association President is asking for you."