Huff, huff… huff…
Gulp, gulp
“……..”
Huff, my Emperor Goblin head soup…. huff…
“I’m really sorry… I’ll apologize again….”
Slurp, slurp
Gulp
“Huff, this place makes great soybean paste soup… huff… gulp… Auntie, five more servings of rice please…”
“Five servings? Oh dear, we’re all out. Just wait a bit while I cook some more rice.”
“Huff, I can’t wait that long…”
“Well then, I’ll go get some from the nearby place, just hang tight, young miss.”
“Okay….”
Huff, slurp
Erk, gulp
Woof, oink
A large meat restaurant near Hapjeong Station in Seoul. An established place that had been operating since before the Great Rift.
Although the prices were steep, the quality of the meat and service were guaranteed at this restaurant. It was renowned not just for its meat but also for delicious rice, side dishes, and even water, making it a popular spot even among hunters.
Icicle Nine had once come here with the Yeonhwa Association for a group meal, and it was also the first restaurant that she brought the Mangja Seongnyeo ‘Shia’ to, who was now looking gloomy yet shoveling food into her mouth.
This was a place filled with memories for both Yeonhwa and Shia.
“….But unnie, you’re eating really well even while crying.”
Huff, huff, beef… so delicious… gulp… this ribeye is heavenly…
Not long after Shia made the Emperor Goblin soup, a flood of rookie agents and research teams dispatched by the Hunter Association and government organizations rushed into the Goblin Empire.
Naturally, the Mangja Seongnyeo Shia, who had hunted without reporting, had all the byproducts of the Emperor Goblin… including the soup and even a single piece of meat confiscated by the government-issued research team. In exchange, she was promised a massive reward, but… the only sorrowful fact that remained for Shia was that she couldn’t eat her “Emperor Goblin head soup.”
“Shia unnie, have some of this too.”
“Yeah, gulp… ribeye, short ribs, tenderloin, they’re all delicious… sniff…”
“This is called jeokchu. It’s a very limited part of the beef but it’s quite tasty. You should try this too.”
“Thank you… gulp…!”
Thanks to that, the valuable S-grade Hunter Icicle Nine was fervently grilling beef to console the Mangja Seongnyeo.
Knowing Shia’s appetite, Yeonhwa reserved the entire restaurant for a day, buying not just the displayed meat but everything stocked away in the restaurant’s storage.
While it was generally difficult to make such reckless transactions without prior reservations, the reputation of S-grade Hunter Yeonhwa along with her offer to pay double for all the meat and service ensured that they received Shia and Yeonhwa as guests.
The restaurant staff, who often catered to celebrities, politicians, and high-profile individuals, did not question Yeonhwa and Shia.
Though Shia had just downed her 80th serving of ribeye and devoured 30 bowls of rice and 10 bowls each of spicy and cold noodles, the quirky hunters and seasoned staff swiftly brought meat and rice to serve Shia and Yeonhwa without a word.
Some staff members even brought over a separate grill to cook more meat at Shia’s table.
“Is it good?”
“Huff, huff… Yes, it is.”
“Oh dear… please stop crying now.”
“You know, huff…. the Emperor Goblin, soup… sniff… still calls to me…?”
“How am I supposed to know that….”
Huff, huff, you big fool! I thought you’d understand!
“No, unnie. I like you, but I can’t relate to your appetite.”
“…….Maybe that’s true?”
Well, thinking about it coolly, that does seem true.
Having quickly stopped crying, Shia returned to snacking on the meat sizzling on the grill.
Still, it was a fact that her mood had lightened from feeling like she was hitting rock bottom just a while ago.
Deep down, she wanted to smash anything—be it the rookie agents or the association—who came to take away her “Emperor Goblin head soup,” gobble it all down, and shout, “Yessss, best meal ever!!!” But still, rationality, moral judgement, and conscience remained within her.
Even if she was a returnee and a Mangja Seongnyeo, wouldn’t there be things she had to protect?
No, rather, since she was a returnee, it was even more crucial.
“Unnie, finish this up. Afterward, could you please write a statement for the association?”
“A statement? What do I need to write?”
“Well, they already have your broadcast as a non-public document, so they won’t ask for a detailed statement. They’ll probably want to know how you discovered the Goblin Empire and realized it was a mimic dungeon. A brief impression and analysis of the Goblin Empire too, maybe?”
“What? There’s so much to write…?”
“It’ll be fine. If you write a rough draft, I’ll help you edit it.”
Returnees find this kind of thing very cumbersome and bothersome.
However, while it may seem like the Returnee Management Bureau and Hunter Association were pressuring her, it was understandable.
Because a few years ago, some returnee had caused a massive terrorist incident.
It must have been in China.
I heard that a returnee was severely mistreated under China’s authoritarian regime and president, until it finally exploded…
But I wasn’t particularly interested, so I didn’t look into it deeply.
Returnee, huh… right, I’m also a returnee.
From the perspective of someone who didn’t know, I was like a ticking time bomb…
*
There was an incident known as the Great Rift.
A calamity that shook the Earth, dominated by humanity, erupted without any signals.
One day, people going about their daily lives suddenly witnessed rifts in space open above them. They experienced losing precious loved ones, lives, and property at the hands of strange creatures emerging from those rifts.
That was the first Great Rift.
Forests, city centers, national assembly buildings, military bases, hospitals, rural areas, seas, mountains, under the ground, and in the sky—rifts opened everywhere simultaneously, causing great chaos and death in society.
The aftermath of the Great Rift saw countless people die or go missing, and it caused tremendous ripples in not just human lives but also in society, culture, and politics.
Moreover, strange individuals who didn’t exist before the rift began to appear.
While they were called Awakened Ones, Psychic Kinesthetics, supers, heroes, and various other names, they eventually became unified under the name “Hunters” in contemporary times.
The socio-political consequences due to the Great Rift, as well as how they changed human life, is an opportunity we’ll discuss some other time.
For now, let’s talk about “Isia.”
Real name: Isia.
As of 2024, a 21-year-old male.
He was one of those who went missing when he was swept up into the first Great Rift while celebrating his military release with family and traveling.
Generally, those who were lost in the rift were declared dead.
They were typically dead due to monsters that appeared or were eaten by dungeons, or it was due to natural disasters, leading to their death.
However, Isia did not die.
Ah, physically he did die.
His body was torn apart at the molecular level from being caught in the rift.
Yet, unlike his body, his soul wasn’t torn apart and slipped through the dimensional gaps created by the Great Rift.
What did that accomplish?
Isia’s soul came to reside within the body of a certain saintess in a medieval fantasy world.
Only the body was empty since the original owner had already died.
Even though Isia couldn’t properly comprehend his situation, at first, he felt thrilled that he was reincarnated in another world like something out of a subculture medium.
Maybe it was because he was still a little child-like even after just finishing military service. For him, switching genders and being in the body of a saintess didn’t seem like a big deal.
However, Isia realized soon that he had four glaring issues.
First, Isia was not possessing the body of a living human saintess.
He had instead taken over the body of a saintess, whose soul had been lost due to an accident, thus making her a corpse.
On top of being confused that a guy suddenly turned into a girl, the fact that the girl’s body was not normal but an incredibly abnormal one, combined with the ability to use divine powers and miracles—which were alien and sacred—was quite the nonsense.
Second, in this world, the dead were not treated as humans.
No, it wasn’t just about not being treated as humans; they were considered the offspring of the devil.
In the world Isia originally lived in, “Mangja” was simply a term for dead individuals.
However, in this world, to be a Mangja meant to be akin to zombies, undead creatures, ghouls, liches, and other horrific monsters crawling up from the hell of nightmares, regarded as pests that should be exterminated, existing in a state of undeath.
Fortunately, the appearance of this saintess was so stunning that she bore no external signs of being a Mangja.
Thirdly, this Mangja saintess was, in her essence, a moving natural disaster, a biological weapon, and a horrific calamity.
Isia was human.
He had rationality, conscience, and a modern ethical outlook.
He may not have been a saint, but he wasn’t the kind of person to fall into ruin either. Just a regular guy.
He sympathized with the unfortunate and the poor. Naturally, he felt pity for those in hardship and distress.
And lastly, the damn fantasy world wasn’t a peaceful and happy fairytale; it was a gross apocalypse-style world.
Monsters, whose existence itself was evil and calamitous, were everywhere, and they made quick work of human cities and villages with the casualness of kicking a pebble in a yard.
Humans in this world were sincerely worth less than dust, living amidst countless fights, struggles, sorrows, rage, and hatred.
Yet, human Isia did nothing.
His greatest achievements so far were merely exiting the military and getting lucky by entering a good university thanks to acing his college entrance exam.
He was still quite juvenile and had unintentionally grown to adulthood.
So, even with the enormous divine powers and miracles possessed by the Mangja saintess, Isia buried himself in hiding for a whole year.
He set up camp in a hunter’s cabin abandoned in the woods where he awoke, making sure to keep as much distance from humans as possible.
Oh, Isia was afraid of this apocalypse-like survival of the fittest, but fundamentally, there was another reason why he distanced himself from humans.
It was because, as a Mangja, he felt the undeniable “hunger.”
Humans wouldn’t feel that hunger quite so intensely.
If a human missed a single meal, it would be irritating but far from catastrophic.
A healthy person might even fast for a week, maybe even two, without suffering serious harm.
But Isia’s case was different.
The Mangja saintess was completely different.
Isia found out what profound and horrific hunger truly is.
It was so far beyond mere suffering.
Even just a moment without food felt like living for a year without water or sustenance to Isia—an agonizing craving that tortured him endlessly.
And, naturally, that craving could only be solved with food.
However, ordinary food simply wouldn’t suffice.
Initially, he tried to survive by eating mushrooms he found in the woods and fish caught from a lake (he only needed to punch the surface a few times for fish to rise).
He occasionally consumed deer meat from creatures killed by other beings, just scraping by.
Instinctively, Isia realized that if he were to experience “hunger” amidst humans, he wouldn’t know what havoc would unfold.
Isia did not want to harm humans nor did he want to eat them.
Despite the brutal gnawing hunger, he wished to retain his humanity.
“Ah……. No, no… not again…!”
Isia felt the quickening approach of that limit.
Thinking he was half-swooning from hunger, he’d open his eyes to find his hands and mouth smeared with blood, with deer and beast corpses lying in disarray around him.
His time between losing reason and tearing into beasts grew shorter, and Isia found himself too miserable and frightened to entertain the idea of stepping outside.
Given his current state, in this mental condition, if he walked into a human village, he might genuinely eat someone.
Even far away, he could smell the stench of human flesh filling his nose.
When humans, oblivious to the danger, entered the forest to gather herbs and hunt, Isia sometimes caught the sweet and fragrant scent of human meat, desperately gnawing at his own hand until he bled to maintain his sanity.
Eventually, nearing the tenth time he lost his reason and feasted on a slain beast, Isia locked himself up in his cabin.
Luckily, the moment he possessed this body of the Mangja saintess, he could wield the powerful miracles and divine powers the saintess had used.
Was it due to the memories rooted in the saintess’s brain? Perhaps Isia thought that from then on, the soul of the saintess and his own had mingled together.
Anyway, Isia used powerful miracles and divine powers to create a barrier to contain himself in the cabin.
Left unchecked, he might truly devour a human.
He could invade a village and indiscriminately consume creatures there like a monster.
Just catching a whiff of human flesh, he felt like his sanity was slipping.
This time, when he lost consciousness, he was fortunate enough to feast on a wild animal.
But what about next time…?
Perhaps next time he opened his eyes, he might find himself holding part of a human in hand rather than beast flesh.
What Isia feared most wasn’t just consuming human flesh, but that he might do so without feeling a shred of guilt or remorse.
Isia was prepared to die of starvation or commit suicide if needed to make that barrier.
To cut to the chase, the barrier ultimately broke.
Isia had caught the scent of human blood from a nearby distance.
A barrier’s primary purpose was to confine and restrain, but it did nothing to block the scent of human blood and flesh.
Thus, when Isia smelled the scents of blood and meat from just outside his barricade, he prayed silently for them to go away.
Prayers turned to pleading, pleading turned to fury, and then that fury turned into hunger.
And so, under the continual torment of hunger, Isia lost consciousness.
No, he became a ravenous Mangja devoid of reason and morality.
Even though he set up a strong barrier, in the end, it shattered under the weight of Isia’s longing for sustenance and raw power.
Emerging from the boundary, Isia bolted towards the source of the scent of flesh and blood.
With Isia’s reason nearly melted away at that moment, he had no capacity to stop, breaking through the trees and scanning the surroundings.
When he reached the place that carried the scents of blood and meat, he discovered a group of humans lying dead.
He also saw a gigantic monster clad in armor and wielding a great sword, slaughtering numerous humans as if they were mere fodder.
Later on, Isia learned this creature was the “Titan of Wrath” Atalyd, akin to a mid-game boss or the direct subordinate of a demon king.
And the knights clad in dazzling armor battling Atalyd were the first humans Isia had seen since arriving.
Atalyd swung his sword once, and dozens fell, yet the knights still charged at him without a hint of retreat.
It goes without saying, but Isia, who lost his reason to hunger, didn’t see this context at all.
He didn’t care why they were fighting, or what their circumstances were.
All that Isia wanted was to satisfy his hunger.
With drool spilling from his mouth at the smell of meat and blood, Isia barreled into the battlefield.
The aura and pressure emanating from Isia were already strong enough to make ordinary humans faint at close range, causing both the Titan of Wrath Atalyd and the knights facing him to pause their battle.
Blood, meat, flesh, scent, flavor, hunger.
That was all that filled Isia’s mind at that moment.
And then Isia launched himself at the largest, most delectable chunk of meat.
“KYAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!”
A beastly groaning.
But the result was that the head of the Titan of Wrath Atalyd burst open in an instant, thanks to Isia.
As Atalyd’s colossal form crashed to the ground, Isia ignored the shell-shocked knights and began to tare into the body of the giant.
He didn’t roast it. He didn’t butcher it.
The rich and fragrant scent of blood engulfed Isia, who was intoxicated by the presence of life within that feast.
For the first time, he tasted meat in a euphoric trance.
He felt an overwhelming sense of omnipotence and ecstasy, as if everything in the world was his.
A smile graced his face, as if floating through the sky. He experienced a sensation as if an overdose of drugs were coursing through his veins, causing his brain cells to pop with pleasure.
It was all new and wondrous for Isia.
He was so ecstatic, so spellbound.
In such a stupor, he lost himself as he devoured the first “intelligent” flesh.
Afterward, as Isia regained his senses, he awoke wrapped in pristine white sheets in an elaborate chamber.
Where is this?
Why am I here?
He remembered having killed and devoured that strange titan. However, everything else felt entirely wrong.
Waking up in a luxury room that someone from the noble class would reside in made him sense that something had gone horribly amiss.
Creak
“Have you awakened?”
Isia’s heart raced as someone entered and he turned to look.
“A beauty sleeps a lot, they say. Seems to hold true. Well then, so do I,” the woman with striking golden hair commented slyly.
“…..Who are you?”
“Oh dear, I thought I was well-known… It appears I need to work harder at that.”
A beautiful woman bedecked with a splendid red cloak and luxurious clothes and jewelry exuding an air of arrogance entered Isia’s vision.
“I am Menelapie Hailam. The empress of this nation.”
And thus, in that world, Isia forged his first connection with a high-ranking individual, the empress.
It turned out, surprisingly, Isia was blessed with connections.
In this new world, he had made ties with the empress first and later with an S-grade hunter upon his return.
Was it luck or misfortune? That was a judgment I wouldn’t dare to make lightly.
