Orlov White
What is the price of power? What good comes from being the strongest? What is the price of being in a space where everyone reveres you like a god?
This is my story. The story of a boy who outranked his colleagues in the hunter association and grew into the first SSS rank hunter. The boy who also grew to become the strongest hunter in the world.
And here I was standing on a heap of fallen S rank beasts, about thirty five of them– the ones I remember. But what exactly was my mission? What was I really doing here? Why do I even swing the sword?
"Berserker Sword Demon just took down another S rank monster. Its– it's a steel armored wyvern!" The reporter behind me yelled, advancing towards me to get a better view.
"– the gate. The gate is closing. Did hunter Orlov White just clear an S rank dungeon break all by himself?"
Right!
The dungeon break that happened in Washington DC. The one that seventeen S rank and two SS rank hunters lost their lives to.
I singlehandedly handled it.
"Berserker Sword Demon!" Reporters were already swarming the scene.
The way I looked at them as they approached– without any form of emotions, just staring deep into their souls. I slowly walked down the pile of carcasses.
"Do you have anything to say to the curious citizens of America?"
"How were you able to accomplish such an impossible task all by yourself, Hunter White?"
"What is the Hunter Association planning to do about the other dungeons that haven't been raided yet?"
"I heard there's a possibility of another dungeon break in New York, Ohio, Dallas and even other Asian countries like South Korea and Japan. Do you plan to raid there too?"
There's no way I was going to answer everyone.
A black SUV pulled up just before I could lose my mind. Three other cars followed behind it.
The Hunters Association.
They've come to remove me from this place. Men in sleek black suits alighted from the vehicles and quickly brought order to the commotion the reporters were causing to get answers from me.
Thanks to the men, I was extracted from this place then taken to the hunters association. The beast carcasses would be handled by experts and the beast core and other valuables left at the scene would be distributed to everyone who participated in the raid.
Me!
"15,000,000 dollars?" The Hunter Association chairman almost collapsed from a heart attack as soon as he heard the valuables worth.
"You're not planning to go home with 15,000,000 dollars, hunter White!" He yelled.
Mostly yapping. I yawned.
"Who cleared the S rank dungeon break?" I reminded him and his killing intent instantly reduced.
"Fine." It was more of a grumble. At least the money went to the right place.
I'm not an honest person. In fact I'm the opposite. Becoming the strongest took everything from me; my happiness, my heart, my pride and even my sanity.
The more I tried to recall how many comrades I've lost and how many I've killed just to keep living, to keep pushing on, the more I went crazy.
"Have you reconsidered?"
"Reconsidered what?"
I raised my head to acknowledge the chairman. He was old, evident from the grey hair and short grey beard. Yet, his aura was still as deafening as it was thirty years ago when we first met.
"Resigning."
That's true.
I wanted peace. I wanted to live the mundane life that I've been hearing about. I became an awakened hunter at 18 and became an S rank hunter at 20. I dropped out of high school just to pursue my dreams of becoming America's hope.
Berserker Sword Demon!
It's time to drop the title. It's time to let the new age of heroes begin. To do that, I must pick the best life to live. The ordinary life.
"You promised to give me your granddaughter's hand in marriage." I teased.
"YOU SMELLY BASTARD! SHE'S NOT OF AGE!" The old man yelled and sprang onto his feet.
"GO LOOK FOR SOMEONE YOUR AGE!!!"
His first sentence conveyed the messages I needed. The second was really unnecessary.
"With that said." His voice was a bit calm now and he walked to sit beside me on the couch, the only thing coming between us was my katana.
"America needs the Berserker Sword Demon. If you want, we could increase your pay after each raid to any price you name."
"Really!" My eyes shot open wide. This one's worth reconsidering.
"Even if I say 200 million?"
This was followed by a shove that almost disconnected my skull from my vertebrae.
"WHERE'S THE ASSOCIATION SUPPOSED TO SEE THAT KIND OF MONEY EVERY MONTH!!"
Another yell. Just this old man's screams was enough to shorten my lifespan.
"But we could pay 100 million." The old man relaxed back and let out a defeated sigh.
One hundred million was enough to change my mind. Now I could get all the fancy gears and mythic artifacts I needed to enhance my skills.
But..
"I'll decline."
There was silence. I was unsure if it was just the old man waiting for me to laugh first so it would be considered an awkward moment or if he was really thinking it through.
I was strong. Strong enough to make even the most influential men in the country pay any amount to get me on their side.
If that's so…
How then did I die?