“But if he pushes this through, isn’t the backlash going to be insane?”

Frost’s policies were excessively radical. Ea nodded in agreement.

“There is backlash, but the situation is unfolding rather strangely.”

“In what way?”

Ea projected a screen of statistical data into the air. “The public’s reaction is not as negative as one might expect.”

Jeong Seojin, who was staring at the screen intently, pushed up his glasses. “Hmm, I see. With the exception of a few star-level hunters, the public’s perception of the average hunter isn’t very good. It’s even become a recurring social issue recently.”

It was common these days for hunters to demand payment after rescuing citizens or to abuse their “on-site command authority” during emergencies to make unjust demands. I myself had been threatened by a certified rank-5 hunter named Ma Jongguk back in the lawless district where I found Eunsol, probably over “first discoverer” rights. I only survived because there were witnesses.

Above all, hunters were armed. They were monsters with enough power to sever a civilian’s head with a flick of a finger. The fear people felt when encountering a hunter was on a completely different level from seeing a police officer with a gun. The misdeeds of hunters were a frequent social problem, and a significant number of people had developed a genuine phobia of them.

“But with these policy changes, the tables will turn,” Jeong Seojin continued. “Hunting is no longer a business, but a national defense service. In other words, the tax-paying civilians become the ones in power.”

“So the general public is in favor of it?”

“Yes,” Ea confirmed. “Many civilians agree with the need to put a leash on hunters.”

No matter how many players and hunters there were, unawakened civilians were far more numerous. A majority of the public supported Frost’s policies, and with President Park Jeongyang and the ruling party giving him their absolute backing, the hunters had no choice but to comply.

“Seojin.”

“Yes.”

“What do you think?”

Jeong Seojin closed his eyes for a moment, organizing his thoughts. “A nationalistic hunter policy is already being implemented in several countries, including China and Russia. It has its advantages and disadvantages. I have no comment on the policy itself, but the problem lies with the intentions of the man driving it.”

“Frost’s intentions?”

“Yes. He has no desire to create hunters who serve the country. I know him better than anyone.” Jeong Seojin’s eyes hardened. “He may use the nation as a shield, but in reality, he wants hunters who will fight for him. He is the kind of man who wouldn’t hesitate to become a dictator to serve his own needs, not the country’s.”

“…Hmm.”

I crossed my arms, lost in thought. This was coming from Frost’s own family, not just my strategist. If what he said was true, this was a dangerous development.

“Tower Master,” Ea interjected, having been searching the internet.

“What is it?”

“I’ve found another problematic section. Please look at Frost’s development policy.”

I turned to the new holographic screen she displayed.

[Provisional Player Policy Reform.]

‘Improve the currently inefficient provisional player policy and intensively nurture superior growth resources into certified hunters.’

I had hoped that reforming the policy would lead to more favorable conditions for non-combatants, but the opposite happened. The policies were cunning. At a glance, it didn’t seem like much was changing, but a closer look at the details revealed that non-combat players would have even fewer opportunities to enter hunting grounds. A waiting period was being implemented for entry, and the required paperwork was becoming more complicated. On top of that, the standards for being classified as ‘non-combat personnel’ were being raised. In contrast, combatant players were being given priority. It was a blatantly discriminatory policy.

‘He plans to sideline non-combatants and focus entirely on combatants.’

Magic had appeared in the world. People who used magic were even passing the certification exams. But now, an era was coming where the non-combat types who had hopefully embraced the path of the mage would once again be crushed. The frustration was boiling over into anger. Why was everyone so determined to screw over the non-combatants?

Jeong Seojin sighed as he read the text. “This is something that every hunter, except for the non-combat types, will welcome.”

“Tell me about it.”

Ordinary hunters would be happy that the hunting grounds were less crowded, and guilds would be thrilled they could fast-track their promising prospects. There was no reason for them to oppose it, which made it feel all the more dangerous.

“Tower Master, please look at this as well.”

My expression hardened the moment I saw the new screen Ea brought up.

[Potion Regulation Policy.]

[Magic Regulation Policy.]

‘This is aimed squarely at me.’

‘It has been confirmed that multiple reports have been filed with the Association regarding adverse side effects from consuming potions in dungeons. The safety of potions has not yet been established, raising suspicions that the former Hunter Association conducted a shoddy verification process. A full-scale re-evaluation is scheduled.’

The section on magic was similar, stating that further verification of the stability and effectiveness of this new power, which was gaining sensational popularity among the youth, was necessary. He was relentless. For now, Frost was only pointing a gun at me, but he could pull the trigger at any time.

‘The command really has changed.’

I suddenly felt like I was suffocating. Was the position of Association President this powerful? I was only now realizing how much support Hong Yul had given me. The current administration was trying to regulate the very sources of my power—potions, non-combat types, and even magic itself. I could feel my standing as the Tower Master diminishing in real-time.

“Tower Master.”

“What?”

The moment I turned to look at Jeong Seojin, my heart sank. He wore the exact same expression he’d had just before the Immortal Disaster began.

“I will go meet with Frost and settle this.”

“Hey.” I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Seojin. Look me in the eye.”

He lifted his head.

“You’re not feeling guilty, are you?”

He fell silent.

“This didn’t happen because of you. Frost is implementing these policies to eliminate the remnants of the previous administration and force the pro-Hong Yul faction to submit. You know that, right?”

“…Yes.”

“Regardless, I decided to fight Unix the moment I took you in. The timeline has just been moved up a bit. And just in case you’re wondering, I made this decision knowing this could happen. You’re more valuable than making an enemy of Unix, so don’t feel any unnecessary guilt.”

“…Yes.”

I patted his shoulder a couple of times and turned away. “Ea.”

“Yes, Tower Master.”

“We’re out of time. If the Association President really is trapped by Frost, we have to rescue her before it’s too late.”

“Your directive is confirmed. Just give the order.”

I took a steadying breath. “This Disaster is over in Korea, but not in other countries, right?”

“Correct. It is still well underway in North Korea, as well as in countries with large territories like China and Russia.”

“Then that’s where we’ll look. Connect me to CEO Shin Nara.”

“Understood.”

The Hunter Association was now the enemy. I couldn’t trust anyone. I had to turn this situation around, and fast. Before it was too late.

* * *

“I will create a new Republic of Korea!”

Frost’s inaugural address resonated deeply with the people. His persuasive power and ability to captivate a crowd were so remarkable that speech academies used them as teaching material. A considerable number of citizens were moved by him.

[What do you think of the Association President’s new hunter policies?]

Results: Positive 55%, Negative 31%, Neither 5%, Don’t Know/Refused to Answer 9%.

His approval rating was over fifty percent. With Park Jeongyang and the ruling party providing active support, and the Unix Group supplying the capital, Frost was like an unbridled colt, completely reversing Hong Yul’s policies. Interviews with citizens showed a uniformly favorable reaction to his actions.

“Frost? Oh, he’s great. An amazing person. Did you see the video of him kneeling to the former president to save his guild members? It made me tear up.”

“When players with those vicious-looking weapons walk down the street… honestly, it’s scarier than cool. If you get into an argument, you don’t know what they might do. I don’t know why it took so long for a policy to control hunters to come out.”

“Frankly, I find it refreshing. They’re just reaping what they sowed.”

“Ahem. From a policy standpoint, there are… quite a few unreasonable points. But what can you do? It’s true that Frost is filling the void left by Hong Yul. In a crisis like this, we need to rally around a charismatic leader like him! Ahem!”

Under Frost’s policies, the Korean hunter world was experiencing a massive seismic shift. The organization that had to adapt most quickly was the Hunter Association.

The Association underwent a large-scale reorganization. Most of the Enforcement Bureau, including Hong Yul’s right-hand man, Im Namjin, were transferred to the newly established “Global Disaster Response Division.” Their job was to accept support requests from the Alliance and clear dungeons all over the world.

It was a blatant demotion. Originally, Alliance requests had been handled by coordinating schedules between the Association and various guilds. Now, the demoted members of this new division were tasked with handling all of it. The raid schedule was brutally tight. Im Namjin and the pro-Hong Yul hunters had to carry out a murderous itinerary through Myanmar, Pakistan, Papua New Guinea, Portugal, and Bolivia.

Seeing Hong Yul’s former confidants—the very people who should have been keeping Frost in check—being worked to death, most of the Association staff abandoned any thought of resistance and bowed their heads to their new leader.

The Association was in upheaval. The rules became stricter, and discipline grew incomparably stronger. It became standard to gather before work to sing the national anthem and recite the Association’s ideology. Many other cumbersome procedures were added.

“Don’t you feel that the administration has changed?” Frost stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back, watching the employees chanting outside. When no answer came, he turned. “So, we finally meet.”

Hong Yeon remained silent.

Frost smiled gently at Hong Yeon, who had entered his office with a frigid expression. “We’ve never been properly introduced, have we?”

* * *

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep