Dark Fantasy Genius Demon Hunter

Rather than standing by and letting someone else snatch it away,

Gaon hurriedly prepared to escape.

However,

“I can’t leave empty-handed.”

Even if he was going to leave, he intended to take compensation for the hard work and injuries he had endured.

Thanks to the plan he had devised working as expected, he was able to escape the range of the other tentacle spiders, giving him enough time to gather byproducts.

Perhaps because he had prior experience,

his actions as he rummaged through the spasming tentacle spider’s innards were swift and nimble.

Rip.

A bundle of tentacles came off all at once.

Only then did the other tentacle spiders lift their legs off the ground and move toward Gaon, but their reaction was far too late.

And so, Gaon ran for quite some time.

“Huff, huff.”

If he were to encounter another beast, no matter how weak the creature might be, he couldn’t guarantee victory in his current state.

Only when he reached a place he deemed safe did he let out a sigh of relief.

“Whew.”

Exhaling deeply, he steadied his breathing.

It was a first for him.

The first time he truly felt the limits of his stamina.

Thanks to his infinite recovery ability, even during intense physical exertion, he had never once considered himself physically burdened.

But in this battle, there were countless moments when he thought, One more step and I might die.

“But it’s different in real combat, isn’t it?”

Recalling the harrowing moments, Gaon shook his head.

Even in a situation where he couldn’t so much as move a finger, he realized he couldn’t afford to think about conserving energy when faced with the threat to his life.

After sitting down to recover his stamina for several minutes,

Gaon turned his gaze to his shoulder, feeling a faint, spreading pain.

“Mm.”

Perhaps because the connection to his body had been severed,

the tentacle, which no longer boasted the rigidity it once had, hung limply.

Gaon brought his hand close to the wound and grasped the tentacle.

Then, he pulled with force.

Rip.

“Guh!”

The searing pain raced up the back of his neck, turning his mind blank.

The agony that coursed down his spine made every hair on his body stand on end.

Psssh!

Blood spurted from the hole where the tentacle had been removed.

Gaon pressed firmly on it with a prepared cloth.

It was an action meant for stopping the bleeding, but from another perspective, it was no different from irritating the wound.

A second wave of pain followed.

His breathing grew shallow.

“Huff, huff.”

His complexion turned pale, and cold sweat began to drip.

Time passed once again.

By the time the once-red cloth had turned a dark crimson, Gaon cautiously removed the cloth from the wound.

The injury was a mess, stained with blood.

Gaon carefully inspected the wound.

It wasn’t completely healed—far from it.

But the bleeding seemed to have stopped to some extent.

Of course, it wasn’t perfect.

It was barely managing to prevent blood from pouring out, a precarious state at best.

If he moved even slightly too aggressively, the wound was highly likely to reopen.

Had it been the modern era…?

Even if he had been rushed to a hospital in an ambulance and undergone emergency surgery, the injury was severe enough that amputation might have been considered.

Even with limited medical knowledge, it was clear to anyone that merely pressing a cloth over the wound to stop the bleeding would never suffice for such a severe injury.

At best, he might have reduced the flow of blood, but if left untreated, he would have succumbed to hypovolemic shock and died from excessive blood loss.

Because of this, Gaon felt fortunate to have infinite recovery in a place where he had to fight to survive.

Of course, one could argue that he had ended up here precisely because he had found the hidden feature of infinite recovery.

“At this point, that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Gaon decided not to dwell on the sequence of events.

After all, the only one who would suffer from overthinking it was himself.

There was no point in expending mental energy on something that couldn’t be undone.

“Maybe the ability to think this way is also thanks to my mental fortitude stat.”

What mattered was that he had survived because of infinite recovery.

As he waited for his wounds to heal further, Gaon changed into a fresh set of clothes.

Though he couldn’t wipe off the blood on his body, his appearance became somewhat more presentable.

While the act of changing aggravated the pain in his collarbone and shoulders, causing another sharp wave of agony, it was necessary.

Once dressed, he looked much better outwardly.

However, to an outsider, this might have seemed strange.

Even though his recovery was ongoing, his wounds were far from fully healed. The searing pain that accompanied every movement made it clear that changing clothes was no small feat.

But for Gaon, the reasoning was simple.

It had to be done.

It wasn’t a matter of choice; it was essential.

A lone beast hunter moving without a party, injured severely, yet carrying the valuable byproducts of a tentacle spider.

If another party of beast hunters found such a person in a contamination zone with no witnesses around, would they help? Or would they feign assistance and stab him in the back?

“They’d definitely stab me in the back.”

With no witnesses and the prospect of splitting extra money among themselves, there’d be no reason to refuse the opportunity.

Gaon gave a bitter smile.

Survival of the fittest.

The weak are devoured by the strong.

Though slightly different in nature, the principle held true both in the modern world and in this place.

That’s why Gaon had to hide the fact that he wasn’t in peak condition.

Once he felt his strength had returned somewhat, Gaon got up, dusted himself off, and started moving again.

He couldn’t move as quickly as he had before the injury, but it was better than sitting still.

He made sure to avoid crossing paths with other beast hunters. If he saw anyone in the distance, he kept as much distance as possible and avoided closing in on them.

Despite enduring the pain that shot through him with every step, he continued walking and walking until he finally left the contaminated zone and entered the outskirts.

Thud.

The firm, responsive ground beneath his feet felt reassuring.

“Ha.”

Gaon let out a hollow laugh, finding the sense of relief surprisingly foreign.

“I thought I had gotten used to this place after spending so much time here and making several trips through the contamination zones, but I guess not.”

It was only now that he realized how much of a blessing it was to walk on solid ground, ground that didn’t give way beneath his feet.

The stability provided by firm footing was something he had taken for granted until this moment.

Every step on the unstable, squishy ground of the contamination zone drained more energy than he had imagined—a fact he only came to appreciate after suffering such a severe injury.

Ordinarily, his recovery ability would compensate for that energy loss. But now, with all of his recovery focused on healing the wound on his shoulder, the strain was palpable.

While marveling anew at the gift of infinite recovery, Gaon resolved to do his best to avoid getting injured again.

“Though, just because I make up my mind doesn’t mean it’ll always go as planned.”

Still, even gaining an awareness of the risks injuries posed was a valuable step forward.

Gaon thought so.

Having sorted out his thoughts, Gaon headed straight for Ren.

“Welcome back,” Ren greeted him as usual.

“You took a little longer than usual this time. I’m curious to see what you’ve brought back this time,” Ren said with his characteristic nonchalance.

Seeing Ren’s familiar manner, Gaon mused to himself.

Perhaps Ren really understood that being a broker was essentially a service job that required interacting with people.

Ren’s experience was relatively short, and since Gaon spent most of his time working out when he came to the city, he had little interaction with others.

As such, he didn’t know how other brokers operated.

Even so, Gaon could tell that Ren’s skills were above average.

His casual words often served as groundwork to earn trust.

Ren’s shop was always bustling, mostly with beast hunters. Many of them didn’t rent a room but came just to eat.

Whatever the case, their continued use of Ren’s establishment spoke volumes about the trust they had in him.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Hmm? Nothing.”

Gaon brushed off Ren’s question as he opened his bag, pulling out a thick leather pouch.

“It’s the tail of a stealth lizard.”

“What? A stealth lizard?”

Ren’s eyes widened slightly.

Gaon gave a small nod.

“I heard the fired venomous spines are worthless, so I didn’t bother bringing them. Is that right?”

“Oh? Yeah, that’s right. But you really caught a stealth lizard?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a Class 2 beast! It’s specialized in ambushes, and even beast hunters who go out in parties often lose one or two members before successfully hunting one. And you… did it alone?”

Ren looked at Gaon in disbelief.

Although he had expected Gaon’s growth to eventually push him to the next level, he hadn’t imagined it would be so soon.

“And a stealth lizard, no less. That means it’s not just raw strength—there’s something more.”

Ren could see Gaon had sharp instincts.

Being able to avoid the ambushes of a stealth lizard meant just that.

Without the ability to detect the beast’s camouflage, there was no way to dodge its swiftly fired projectiles.

Of course, having high-quality armor capable of deflecting a stealth lizard’s venomous spines would make a difference. But for Gaon, who wore only cloth, such protection was out of reach.

However, Gaon’s trophies didn’t stop there.

Gaon placed the tentacles of a tentacle spider in front of Ren, who was still marveling at the first item.

“…Huh?”

Ren’s reaction was momentarily delayed.

It wasn’t because he failed to recognize the byproduct of a tentacle spider.

It was the sheer unexpectedness of what was in front of him.

“A tentacle spider!”

Ren jumped out of his seat in shock.

“Are you serious? You mean the tentacle spider I’m thinking of?!”

Ren, now brimming with excitement, began rifling through the bundle of tentacles Gaon had laid out.

Only after completing his inspection did Ren look back at Gaon.

“How did you even manage this? I mean, I know it’s rude to ask, but…”

“I caught them,” Gaon interrupted Ren’s questioning with a slight shake of his head, signaling that he understood Ren’s curiosity but wished to put an end to the inquiries.

“This is… truly remarkable,” Ren said, marveling as he sat back down.

While the stealth lizard was impressive, the tentacle spider was the pinnacle of beasts that turned hunters into prey.

Tentacle spiders, living in groups, were notorious for surrounding their targets without being noticed and unleashing relentless tentacle attacks, massacring anything in their path.

“There’s no way it was just one, right?” Ren asked, his voice filled with excitement.

Gaon flipped his bag onto the table.

Thud. Another bundle of tentacles dropped out.

“Wha—one?”

Ren repeated in confusion, as if his mind was buffering.

Gaon nodded.

“That’s right.”

“Two, you mean? How?”

Ren’s question was justified.

Tentacle spiders typically traveled in groups of at least five.

“There were five,” Gaon said. “But I only managed to take down two.”

“Did you spot them before they set up their encirclement and attack the two while the other three ran away? No, that doesn’t make sense.”

Beasts were aggressive by nature. They didn’t flee just because their opponent was stronger.

The only time a beast might suppress its aggression was in the presence of a higher-ranking beast.

Understanding this, Ren realized the absurdity of his own suggestion.

Gaon clarified the situation for him.

“Another group of beast hunters was already surrounded. The spiders were focused on hunting them, which delayed their detection of me. That gave me time to engage one of them first. I killed it quickly, but by then, the others had surrounded me.”

“I see.”

“I somehow managed to break through their encirclement and kill another one. It probably helped that there were four forming the circle instead of all five.”

“You broke through their encirclement? That’s impressive.”

Ren’s awe was evident, but suddenly, a curious glint appeared in his eyes.

“But, Gaon.”

“Go ahead.”

“If you killed two out of the five, that means three are still alive, doesn’t it?”

“Unless the other beast hunters killed them in the meantime, yes.”

“Then… could it be… Never mind, forget I said anything. That was rude of me.”

Ren cut himself off mid-sentence, but Gaon understood what he was about to ask and answered anyway.

“I can tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“You want to know where I found them, don’t you?”

“…Yes. But are you really okay with sharing that information?”

Gaon nodded.

“Of course. Tentacle spiders are hard to catch, not because they’re difficult to fight, but because they’re hard to find. If someone knows their location, plenty of people will want to hunt them.”

“That’s true, but still…”

“That’s exactly why I’m telling you. Right now, I’m in no condition to go back and hunt them again. It’ll take some time to recover and resupply—”

Gaon had often thought about how skillful Ren was at winning people over with small gestures and words.

And now, he had another thought:

“—so rather than risk someone else swooping in and taking the opportunity, wouldn’t it be better for someone I know to benefit from it?”

After all, Gaon was just as good at navigating social dynamics as Ren was.

The Genius Beast Hunter of Dark Fantasy