I Possessed The Villain In a Hunter Novel And It Fits Me Perfectly

Mid-December, a restaurant in Seoul.

After running the “Desolate Garden” dungeon, I set a dinner with Ryu Taeyoung. The same-day plan got shot down, but once we aligned our schedules, we managed to meet within a few days.

He wasn’t in his usual field gear—he sat across from me in a neat, tidy suit as we waited for the food.

“It’s been a while.”

“Yeah.”

I stared at the menus on the wall, then asked what I was genuinely curious about.

“By the way, if I pay for this, is that illegal for you?”

Wasn’t there a rule about under thirty thousand won? I turned my gaze to him and wiped my hands with the wet towel.

The place we picked was a Korean restaurant near the Special Response Team HQ. The prices weren’t high, but ordering a few dishes could easily push past thirty thousand.

He let out an awkward cough, sounding thrown by my question.

“...Pardon? No. I assumed I’d be the one paying.”

“Oh...”

What the hell. Then I’d be the guy who called a government worker off-hours for help, snuck into a Gate, ghosted his messages—and still mooched a meal off him?

’Huh... could happen.’

It’s not like he’d lure me out with food and try something shady.

“So me letting you buy me dinner isn’t against any law?”

“No...”

’Didn’t know that.’

A moment later, steaming seaweed soup and side dishes were set in front of us.

I stirred the soup with my spoon to cool it, then poured in some water.

“Do you prefer things bland?”

“No?”

“Then why add water...?”

“Oh, I can’t handle hot stuff.”

Watching me water down my soup, he went ahead and mixed rice into his.

I took a sip and thought about how to broach the topic.

“Did you catch the Infinite Guild master?”

“......”

He froze at the blunt question, set his spoon down, and lowered his head, voice dropping.

“...Not yet. We’re working on it, but...”

“I see.”

Fair enough. The Special Response Team’s to-do list isn’t short, and at this point the manhunt could shift over to the police detectives anyway, right?

I nodded like it was nothing, and he glanced up at me like he was gauging my reaction.

“You must be anxious. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not particularly anxious. I’ve got multiple layers of security at home.”

“Even so, you can’t ignore the psychological factor.”

Psychological? Honestly, the billion won I put up to rescue Do Yehyun going up in smoke—that stung. But the Infinite Guild kidnapping also led me to that quest-type dungeon, so it wasn’t entirely a shit deal.

Of course it would’ve been better not to be kidnapped. Thinking about being tied to a chair for half a day still riled me up.

’And not just tied up, those bastards—what they did to my face...’

Just thinking about it made my mood sour again.

However he read my expression, he watched me for a moment and said,

“Maybe you’re fine now, but it could set into a trauma. Certain environments could trigger the memories.”

If we’re tallying trauma, Im Haekyung’s mind control ranks higher than those Infinite Guild punks. And the weird part was, it wasn’t even creepy, and it didn’t feel like my mind was being ripped away. That made it more unsettling.

If a person’s mental bulwark crumbles, you’d expect revulsion. But I just blacked out and woke up feeling... a little too normal.

’Annoying as hell.’

I reined in the tangent and answered evenly.

“I dunno... feels more likely that going into dungeons every day would traumatize you.”

Between getting grabbed and smacked around by thugs and slaughtering freakish monsters daily, the latter’s obviously worse for your mental health.

’Everyone’s lost all objectivity, probably because this is their daily view.’

He shut his mouth at that.

I came to talk, but the quiet did make it easier to eat. I kept waiting for him to speak again, but he stayed silent.

“Right. Thanks for your help that time.”

“Sorry? No need to thank me. It’s my job.”

“It wasn’t during your work hours.”

“My work hours start the moment a citizen calls something in...”

He lifted the corners of his mouth in a stiff smile. He was trying to look friendly, but with his build and features, it just looked stiff.

“You really are suited to being a public official.”

I meant it. His reaction, though, was oddly unenthused.

“Is that so...”

Why? He’s not from a guild, not from the Association... Whatever. At this point, Special Response Team public servants are pretty much people doing it out of duty, no? Given his personality, that’s high praise.

He cleared his throat and, out of nowhere, asked,

“Mr. Jehyun.”

“Yeah?”

“How did you feel when you entered dungeons?”

How did I feel...? What kind of question is that. It changes with the dungeon, obviously.

Strange. A little fun, too.

He kept quiet for a beat, then spoke like he’d made up his mind.

“I’ll apologize in advance if this sounds rude. But since you’ve been inside dungeons ranked above your Awakening level far more often than most... you’re the only one I can ask.”

“Ah.”

Ah... So he wanted the headspace of someone punching above their weight in dungeons.

If you’re a B-rank, I guess you’d be curious. I thought back to stepping into a dungeon for the first time—how was it? That unfamiliar sensation, witnessing a place like that even existed... a bit of excitement, and at the same time the vivid sense of death edging up close.

“People die easier than you think.”

“......”

“Dungeon accidents are common, but compared to the early days, the system’s better. People treat it like just another everyday event now, so they don’t really feel it. But... people die really easily.”

Guilds, the Association—everything’s more organized now, and high-rank dungeons are special cases handled by high-rank hunters. So “hunter deaths” aren’t as common as you’d think.

But that depends on your baseline. Originally, one death would’ve been a huge deal. For me, the world turned upside down overnight—so there’s a lot that strikes me as bizarre.

’Honestly, it’s kind of fun.’

Feels like the world’s ethics got fuzzier. Maybe they were never that sharp. Now, “because hunter” keeps carving out exceptions in the law.

“I’m a low-rank hunter, so I’ve had more close calls. I just got lucky—there were S-rank and A-rank hunters next to me.”

“......”

“I’m not even a support hunter. I’m just lucky to be wedged in. Still... I do wish I were a bit stronger. Rank or skills.”

Even now, my body can’t keep up—that’s the problem. For the record, when I burned my mana dry mimicking to help Seowon, I went home and passed out cold.

’If I were C-rank, things would be way easier.’

While I drifted for a moment, Ryu—who had gone quiet again—finally said,

“I think that way too. That I might be... incompetent.”

“Come again?”

What is he on about. Did the B-ranks all pop the same pills, from Seowon to Ryu? There’s an E-rank sitting right here and a B-rank hunter is talking incompetence?

Still, I’m gracious and kind by nature, so I shut up and let him talk nonsense.

“I’m not disparaging myself in front of you, Mr. Jehyun. I just keep thinking—if I were more capable, maybe things would be easier.”

“Did something happen?”

Why is his self-esteem suddenly in pieces?

He’s a by-the-book guy. Even if something shook him, he should’ve just... processed it. So something did happen?

He flinched at my question.

I came to ask about Na Seokgyung’s whereabouts and the investigation’s progress, and now I’m neck-deep in weird talk.

Even so, since he helped me, I’d developed a personal liking for him—I didn’t mind listening. And I was curious what could knock him this far off-center.

He hesitated, set his spoon down, and spoke calmly.

“I’ve never really been scared in dungeons. I may fall short of S-rankers and A-rankers, but I’m still capable of saving people. But as captain of a special response team, I assemble the roster... and—”

“Yeah.”

“...I hate saying this, but I keep quantifying hunters’ ★ ★ abilities and... value. Thinking ‘they can’t die here,’ and pulling them back.”

“Mm.”

“If I were a little more capable, I could just handle more myself. That’s what’s been on my mind.”

Ah... that kind of dilemma. I immediately lost interest and poked at my rice. He watched me turn my eyes to the bowl.

What do you call someone who agonizes about ethics while doing the obvious right thing? I twitched my eyebrow, debating whether to say something comforting.

Then he brought up something interesting.

“Do you know anything about the Cheonmyeong Cult?”