Chapter 137 – The Media’s Interest  

Ordinary people were always fascinated by the exploits of hunters.  

It made sense—their lives, so far removed from the mundane, were both awe-inspiring and a refreshing escape from the drudgery of everyday reality.  

But for the public, the only way to learn about hunters was through the media.  

Reporters staked out dungeon entrances day and night, eager to satisfy the public’s curiosity.  

“Ugh, I’m bored. How much longer?”  

“Ten minutes. They should be coming out soon.”  

At the entrance of the country’s second S-rank dungeon, Shadow of the Desert, journalists whiled away their time, waiting.  

“Get ready. They’ll be out any second.”  

Soon, the 48-hour time limit for the dungeon expired, and the purple portal shifted to blue.  

One by one, figures began to emerge—hunters who had entered two days prior.  

The reporters immediately began snapping photos, not wanting to miss the moment.  

Click-click-click-click—  

“Got it. That’s one shot.”  

Even a simple photo of hunters exiting the dungeon could be spun into an article titled “Heroes Return After Clearing the Dungeon.”  

“Now, let’s count how many come out.”  

Given that this was an S-rank dungeon, casualties were expected.  

Tracking the number of survivors would also make for a compelling story.  

“Three, four, five…”  

The reporters tallied the hunters as they filed out.  

Then, without exception, they all froze in shock.  

“Seven, eight… That’s it?”  

“No one else?”  

“Only eight survivors?”  

Twenty had entered. Eight walked out.  

What happened to the other twelve?  

“Did over half of them die…?”  

Deaths in dungeons were common—battlefields were no different—but such a high casualty rate was unprecedented.  

At least for Shadow of the Desert.  

“How is this possible?”  

“Was Shadow of the Desert really that difficult?”  

“I heard it was one of the easier S-rank dungeons.”  

The reporters’ confusion was justified.  

Previous teams that had cleared the dungeon had only suffered one or two casualties at most.  

In fact, the team led by Hunter Shin Kyung-min, who had entered just before this group, had survived intact.  

Yet the very next team had suffered the worst death toll ever recorded.  

“Looking it up, this isn’t entirely unheard of.”  

“Really?”  

“Eight months ago, in Italy’s Shadow of the Desert dungeon, a team of ten hunters—all around level 2,000—entered and all died.”  

“Cause?”  

“Unknown. Since no one survived.”  

“So it’s not entirely unprecedented.”  

“No. But twelve deaths is even worse.”  

“Damn…”  

Twenty entered, eight survived.  

It was nothing short of tragic.  

But only for a moment.  

The reporters’ eyes gleamed like hyenas spotting prey.  

This was an opportunity.  

A chance to interview the survivors and craft a sensational story.  

They swarmed the hunters.  

“Hello! Jo Seung-chul from Hunter News.”  

“Ahn Sang-min from Onara News.”  

“Jeong Si-yeon from Daemun Daily.”  

“Twenty went in, only eight came out—what happened?”  

“Are we correct to assume the other twelve died?”  

“Can you give us details about what happened inside?”  

The barrage of questions left Min Do-jun’s party momentarily stunned.  

They hadn’t expected this much attention the moment they stepped out.  

After a brief pause, the survivors’ expressions darkened.  

“Only the eight of us made it out alive.”  

“The rest… unfortunately, didn’t survive.”  

Twelve A-rank hunters dead?  

The reporters pounced on the confirmation.  

“What exactly happened in there?”  

“The team led by Shin Kyung-min, who entered just before you, all survived. What do you think about that?”  

“Why did your party suffer so many casualties compared to theirs?”  

They weren’t obligated to answer.  

A formal report could be submitted through the guild or Hunter Association later.  

But the survivors seemed willing to share, answering the reporters earnestly.  

“Complacency played a part, but the biggest factor was the sub-dungeon.”  

“Nine of them died in the pyramid sub-dungeon.”  

Why?  

At the reporters’ questioning looks, the hunters explained.  

“The monsters in the pyramid had undying abilities.”  

The unexpected revelation widened the journalists’ eyes.  

“Undying abilities?”  

“What does that mean?”  

“Please elaborate!”  

The party members didn’t hesitate.  

This wasn’t information worth hiding—in fact, spreading it could prevent future casualties.  

Min Do-jun seemed to agree, making no move to stop them.  

When the reporters heard the full story, their jaws dropped.  

“The monsters gained immortality during a full moon?”  

“Yes, but only in the pyramid sub-dungeon.”  

“This is unbelievable…”  

Perhaps the Italian hunters had died because they’d entered during a full moon, too?  

“Then how did you survive?”  

“All thanks to this hunter right here.”  

The reporters’ attention instantly zeroed in on Min Do-jun.  

Though they didn’t know his name, his face was familiar—photos of him shaking hands with Shin Kyung-min and Kang Hyuk-su had already made the rounds.  

Pressed for details, the hunters recounted Min Do-jun’s feats.  

“He soloed the boss…?”  

“Is that even possible?”  

“Wait, there was a boss in the sub-dungeon too?”  

The revelations came one after another.  

A single thought flashed through every reporter’s mind:  

This is a goldmine!  

There was no shortage of material here.  

It was practically a jackpot.  

‘If I can land an exclusive interview with this guy…’  

An article about an S-rank boss solo and a party saved?  

The clicks would explode.  

The reporters fixed their eager gazes on Min Do-jun.  

“Excuse me, Hunter! Could we discuss this in private somewhere—?”  

“No, with me! I’ll take you!”  

They clamored for an exclusive, but Min Do-jun had no interest in entertaining them.  

‘Wasting time on this is pointless.’  

Unless he was actively seeking fame, there was no need to indulge the media.  

‘I’ll become famous anyway, whether I try or not.’  

As long as he kept clearing dungeons, his name would spread regardless.  

“I’ll have to decline the interviews. I’m quite busy.”  

“Then at least give us your contact info!”  

“An email address would suffice!”  

“Or just your name…?”  

Desperate for anything, the reporters’ eyes burned with hunger.  

But Min Do-jun said nothing, stepping away.  

Then, someone asked:  

“What’s your relationship with Shin Kyung-min?”  

Min Do-jun’s steps halted.  

Encouraged, the reporter pressed on.  

“We saw you shaking hands and talking the other day. Are you part of the Emperor Guild?”  

“No. I have my own guild.”  

“Then what’s your connection to Shin Kyung-min—?”  

“There is none.”  

He turned to leave, but before he could take another step, he froze.  

Standing a few paces away was none other than Shin Kyung-min himself.  

“‘No connection’? That’s a bit cold, isn’t it? We did meet the other day.”  

As Shin Kyung-min approached, Min Do-jun’s chest grew cold.  

Not from nervousness—his body instinctively feigned ease, knowing any tension would only provoke Shin Kyung-min further.  

“Shin Kyung-min Hunter?”  

“Hello, Hunter Min Do-jun. Fancy seeing you again so soon.”  

The reporters held their breath, pens and cameras at the ready, eager to capture every word.  

“What brings you here?”  

“I came to see you. I timed it to your clear—lucky you hadn’t left yet.”  

“These people were just about to send me off.”  

Min Do-jun’s sharp gaze made the reporters flinch.  

“You’ll understand once you’re more famous, Hunter, but we reporters are… an unavoidable part of the job.”  

Shin Kyung-min smiled warmly at the journalists.  

‘Fucking bastard.’  

Min Do-jun swallowed the curse.  

Knowing Shin Kyung-min’s true nature, every gesture reeked of hypocrisy.  

‘Sure. The media helps build your pristine image.’  

But he would expose it.  

Just as he had torn apart Lee Se-yoon’s false virtue, he would drag Shin Kyung-min’s rotten core into the light.  

Killing him would come later.  

‘I’ll make sure of it.’  

To that end, Min Do-jun silently ordered his ghost wolf to memorize Shin Kyung-min’s scent.  

[Summon has used Tracking Skill.]  

[Summon has memorized the scent.]  

[Real-time location tracking activated.]  

Unaware, Shin Kyung-min maintained his amiable facade.  

“First, congratulations on clearing the dungeon. Was this your first S-rank?”  

“Yes.”  

“I noticed your level has risen significantly since you entered.”  

He must have been monitoring the system rankings.  

“You were 2,008 before entering, and now you’re 2,028… That’s an unheard-of leveling speed. No wonder our guild leader took an interest in you.”  

The conversation was packed with revelations that stunned the reporters.  

Of course, Min Do-jun wasn’t pleased with Shin Kyung-min casually airing his details.  

“Why did you come looking for me?”  

“Ah, I see you’re the impatient type.”  

“Not impatient. I just dislike wasting time.”  

Click-click-click—  

Shutter sounds erupted from all sides.  

Calling a conversation with the rank 1 hunter a waste of time?  

This guy had guts.  

But Shin Kyung-min himself didn’t seem bothered.  

“I see. Then I’ll get straight to the point.”  

With a grin, he extended his hand.  

“Hunter Min Do-jun, how would you like to join the Emperor Guild?”