The Imperial Hunter Chapter 15 - Beast Hunt (3)

Author: Dawn

The collapsed darkness rippled weakly.

[Restore my powers… and resurrection…]


A transparent explosion shattered a pile of bones. It was a telekinetic shockwave I remotely triggered. It felt like anger-infused magic coursing through my entire circuit. Overwhelming power. I could feel omnipotence surging from the escalating magic. It might be something only possible in dreams, but at this moment, I was a mage who was harnessing one hundred percent of the circuit’s potential. In reality, it would take at least a year for something like this to be possible.

Amidst the explosion, all other bones shattered into pieces, but the two beast’s skulls that had shot upwards remained intact at the end of a few bounces. Broken branches and fluttering leaves rained down on it. The dead beast mournfully wailed.

[Restore… what’s mine…]

“Shut up!”

I retracted my hand that had been aimed at the front, clenched the air, and forcefully swung it down. Then, intensely burning lines of heat tore through the winds and twisted. Sizzle! Bang! The glowing whip was a frenzy of heat combined with physical force. Master’s skull was driven into the ground by the recoil.

Unlike the past Master, who could only transform to a certain extent, I was able to freely manipulate magic. This was because this was my mental world.

My hand trembled with emotion.

My master’s specter sobbed.

[You… stole my power and wisdom…]

“Who are you blaming?”

I mocked the specter as I struggled to quell my boiling insides.

“It wasn’t anyone else who killed you but your own arrogance. Isn’t that right?”

Unlike this son of a bitch, who embodied chosen people’s determination, and if he hadn’t underestimated me as a young yellow race, and hadn’t wasted his magic while being intoxicated by his newfound power as a mage, the results of this surreal game of tag might have been completely different.

From the very beginning, there was a reason why this guy chose me. It was because the pursuers never thought that they would hide in the body of a mere yellow race. The extent of the ingrained prejudice was so great that they couldn’t help but dismiss me.


As I continued my thoughts, I suddenly felt pathetic.

‘What kind of bastard’s specter is this.’

I wanted to laugh at it, mock it, get angry at it, and unleash my violence on it.

However, that person over there wasn’t the same as my master. They were just the core of the trauma that remained within me. Dreams reflect desires. Even after a long time had passed, I still hadn’t overcome my fear. Perhaps I wanted to ridicule the object of my fear in some way?

If so, what’s the difference between this and self-indulgence?

As my thoughts reached this point, the silent beast was the evidence. I swung the blazing lines of heat that had fallen slack while I was sprawled out. Bang! The intense pressure smashed against the unbreakable skull and sent it flying like a cannonball into the distant shadows of the forest. I blocked the magic and made the burning whip disappear.

Calm returned to the forest.

The reduction in mental burden was one of the functions of dreams. Since I was not the boss of a massive organization here, it would’ve been fine to get as nasty as I wanted and let go of my anger. Mocking an enemy that was only a figment, getting carried away by power that was also only a figment.

But I couldn’t allow myself to accept that version of me.

What needed to be done now was to make use of this rare dream as an opportunity. While the shallow sleep was regrettable, that was why the sensation of manipulating the circuit was no different from reality. I needed to simulate my full capacity as a mage for future preparations.

‘More than anyone else, I need to become stronger.’

My true abilities were the ultimate insurance that would protect me in any situation, the universal key to adapting to all magical variables on my way to London. When I rose beyond the expectations of the imperialists with an overwhelming asymmetric power, the oldest mages would undoubtedly turn into true prey.

I was prepared to take risks to enhance my magical abilities and gain practical experience.

The following afternoon. The guard hounds, with their keen sense of smell and agility, pinpointed a warehouse rented by the ‘White Guard.’ Kyung-tae reported as the leader of the guard hound team.

“It’s not just used for storing goods. Those without homes gather there for shelter, doubling as security.”

I examined one of the photos that the security team had taken.

“Is this their sign?”

“Yes. It’s a mark they scatter around like a dog marking its territory.”

In the photo, there was graffiti painted on the wall.

[ᛟᚱᛁᛟᚾ 14/88]

On a red background with black letters, a white skull was drawn next to it. It incorporated all three of their symbolic colors. It felt utterly juvenile to use runic characters. Even if they used runic characters, it ultimately translated to English. The excessive use of red, which was practically abused, felt crude.

“It’s similar to dog urine in its filthiness.”

Kyung-tae chuckled at my commentary.

“Indeed, Hyungnim.”

When translated, ᛟᚱᛁᛟᚾ became ORION, which was an acronym widely used by white supremacists, standing for “Our Race Is Our Nation,” and the numbers 14/88 each represent different slogans. 14 represented the 14-word sentence, “We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children,” while 88 stood  for “Heil Hitler.”

Childish wordplay at its finest.

The strike was scheduled to take place at midnight. After Kyung-tae finished a brief practice session with the subordinates, he sent them off to prepare and asked me.

“What would you like to do, Hyungnim?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m wondering if you really need to come along with us. We’ll handle everything, so you can just relax and receive the results, right?”


The reason for moving together at times like this was usually to avoid spreading the forces too thin. While their job of guarding me was different from typical security work, focusing on preemptive threat removal—meaning a broad definition of preemptive strikes and close protection on the battlefield—the security team effectively acted as the elite guards. However, the most important role was still to protect me. If I were on-site, I could allocate the forces assigned to close protection as reserves. The more reserves, the better.

“No, I should go as well.”

Kyung-tae didn’t ask twice.

“Alright, then. I’ll get ready.”

And time passed.

The support team at the headquarters across the sea had briefly hacked the old warehouse’s surveillance cameras and the cameras around it. These cheap Chinese-made IP cameras, with no security whatsoever, were still useful for deterring thieves. Those who wanted to save money at all costs were everywhere.

Nevertheless, my guard hounds hadn’t entered the scene beyond midnight yet. It was because the ‘White Guard’ had introduced some variables.

“Should we postpone the operation by a day, Hyungnim?”

Kyung-tae asked, and I checked the time before responding.

“…Let’s wait a little longer.”


Three hours earlier, a van had come to the warehouse and dropped off several sensual women. They were dressed provocatively and laughing raucously. Despite the cold weather, they were barely clothed. They were women who sold their bodies while working away from home.

I didn’t directly intervene with the women who disappeared in droves. It would only complicate matters further. Once a report came in from the agency that sent the women, the police would definitely take this case seriously. Mass kidnapping, murder, human trafficking, and so on. It would be hard to imagine any other outcome when a group of neo-Nazi skinheads disappeared along with these women.

In other words, this case would become something that the city’s police couldn’t simply ignore, no matter how poor and lacking in enthusiasm the organization was. If they were unlucky, the case might even be handed over to the federal authorities.

Waiting in the car was long and boring. A patrol car passed right by us at one point, but the indifferent gazes of the two police officers onboard only briefly glanced our way.

‘They probably just thought we were homeless.’

In a country known for its wealth gap and cars, homeless people with cars were quite common. And not all homeless people were necessarily unemployed. Even university professors and government workers sometimes lived in their cars, eating and sleeping there. Therefore, the police had no reason to pay special attention to us.

So, how much longer did we wait? The radio crackled to life.

[A vehicle is entering.]

The car that entered the warehouse courtyard was the very van that had brought the women earlier. Although it was a common Ford Transit found in the United States, there was no mistaking it when you saw the license plate.


Vagina. Quite straightforward, wasn’t it? The car’s owner must have spent some money on the license plate.

The middle-aged woman who got out of the van stood crookedly and lit a cigarette. As the cigarette burned down, her customers, along with her children, opened the warehouse door and came out. After some conversation between the middle-aged woman and the skinheads, she burst into laughter. Having received payment, she nodded her head and drove away with her kids.

Except for one.

Kyung-tae looked puzzled.

“Why? Why isn’t she being taken?”

The only remaining woman seductively approached one of the men and initiated professional foreplay. The man embraced her waist and signaled to the others to enter. It was clear that he was the center of the group that had taken over the warehouse. He might be a boss or a high-ranking member.

“It’s ridiculous. It’s probably some kind of privilege for the superior.”

I sighed in response to Kyung-tae’s question and scratched my head.

Establishing a hierarchy for certain actions, where some people did them first and others shouldn’t, was a common phenomenon found in many organizations. The twisted hierarchy among the low-ranking soldiers in the old South Korean army was an example.

On the other hand, it was also a display for some reason. In the world of thugs and gangsters, displaying masculinity was a qualification to dominate over other males. Boasting like having done it seven or eight times in one night was somewhat like a medal.

As I continued to observe the inside of the warehouse with my exceptionally good eyesight, I finally made a decision.

“We have no choice. Let’s proceed as planned.”

“Should we bury the woman along with them?”

Kyung-tae asked, and I shook my head.

“Let’s think about that a bit more.”

“Understood. I’ll report after completing the first phase.”

Kyung-tae replied and got out of the car with a mask on.

‘If only there was a way to manipulate memories with magic.’

However, such a spell did not exist. First of all, you needed a complete understanding of how the brain functions and operates, and even if you understood it, there was a separate issue of whether your magical circuitry computation abilities could keep up. Where was a circuit as complex as the brain?

Furthermore, if the opponent was a mage or an ability user whose circuitry was pierced?

It was impossible. To tamper with the brain using magic, you had to remove the opponent’s magical field first. In other words, the circuit had to be in a state of near non-existence.

I opened the door and stepped out of the car. Around me, the members Kyung-tae had left behind, eight people in two teams, were scattered. Some were sitting on a bench, others were leaning against the wall, pretending to be loiterers and keeping an eye on things.

The hem of my coat fluttered. The winds blowing through the alleyways carried the peculiar smell of this foreign and impoverished neighborhood. In the backstreets of the harbor area, a mix of factories, warehouses, and homes, you couldn’t expect there to be no stench.

In my eyes, I could see everything that was happening inside the warehouse in detail.

As usual, my guard hounds had exerted excessive force.

Author's Thoughts

This novel is a work of fiction! While it may incorporate elements inspired by our "real" historical world, including historical events, settings, and cultures, it is important to note that the story and characters are entirely products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or deceased, or actual events is purely coincidental. This work should be enjoyed and interpreted as a work of fiction and not as a representation of historical facts or reality.
Also, if you find some error in translation please do let me know by tagging me (@_dawn24) in our Discord server. Since this series is kinda hard to translate. But I'll try my best to make it at least readable :)
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