The Chick Class Hunter is Being Filial

chapter 121



“And compared to that? This? It’s five hundred per bottle. No family gossip, no taxes—pure five hundred in my pocket.”

Seon Woo-gyeong pulled a syrup bottle from inside his jacket.
The colorless, odorless liquid sloshed inside.
The drug Munira had given him.

She said he could call it whatever he wanted, and at some point, it became known as “Magic Syrup.”
The syrup subtly reconstructed the user’s body with each dose.
Users experienced a rapid spike in mana, accompanied by overflowing energy and euphoria.

This shit could make serious money.
What started as a rich boys’ underground game, thanks to connections from his illegal sports betting site, had quickly escalated.
Word had even spread among the parents.

“I heard if they take this, their kids’ mana grows. Is it true?”
The higher your mana, the greater your chances of Awakening. And if your mana exceeded the standard threshold, you could even get into Justitia International School.
A guaranteed ticket to a prestigious university followed after that.

That’s when Seon Woo-gyeong started pretending to be a Chick-Class Hunter.
Borrowing the fame of others and selling anonymously through Onion Market was great for business.
The number of clients kept growing, and the money he collected scaled up with them.

Unlike the rich boys chasing short-term thrills, the parents sometimes asked about long-term side effects.
But Munira would simply press her lower lip with her index finger and murmur with playful secrecy.
“I just want to experiment. See how they change.”

It was an irresponsible answer, but for Seon Woo-gyeong, it was enough.
Why should I care? I’m leaving this shithole country soon anyway.
Money was all that mattered.
What’s the problem? Everyone’s living like this, aren’t they?

“Teacher, you know, I think this is the spirit of the times. If hundreds of people throw themselves at something, legal or not, that’s gotta be the spirit of the times, right?”
Munira kept watching him like he was fascinating, then asked softly,
“Woo-gyeong, but still… haven’t heard from Honggi yet?”

“Ah…”
Woo-gyeong bit his lip hard.
The reason he’d targeted Ham Honggi first wasn’t complicated.

He just wanted him to get addicted and wreck his life.
The problem child, Ham Honggi—his life was the one Woo-gyeong had always dreamed of.
The spoiled youngest son of a rich family, treated like royalty no matter how much of a fuck-up he was. A life free from money worries, free from thinking about the future—a fucking flower garden.

Losing one customer wouldn’t be a huge blow.
But the irritation boiling inside couldn’t be stopped.
“Not yet…”

While Woo-gyeong trailed off, Munira pressed her lower lip again.
“Hm, I see. What a shame.”
Honggi didn’t have much time left before the mutation.

 
****
The small conference room set up in one corner of the Management Team office had long been converted into a study room.

Sitting at the long table working on problems, Guru’s head snapped up at the sound of a loud crash.
“Dani Oppaw!”
Gidan had slammed his head onto the table, clutching his mechanical pencil.

“Gwuu… I’m doomed…”
“Juukuh… n-not ‘owed!”
“You guys… you have to succeed…!”

“Oppaw!”
Guru clutched Gidan’s hands and cried out with a desperate voice as he tried to close his eyes.
“Waaaake up! We gotta study!”

“Dani hyung’s just being dramatic ‘cause he hates studying,”
Serhi sneered, shaking his head.
That jab made Gidan snap his eyes wide open, resurrected on the spot.

“Who’s the one who lost the spelling test to Guru?”
“……”
Serhi’s shoulders flinched.

Ever since they’d started studying together, Guru and Serhi had been itching to settle their spelling test rivalry.
And the winner? Guru.
She nailed Gidan’s trap question—ulgeurakbulgeurak—a dialect version of the standard word bulgeurakpureurak.

Guru gave sulky-faced Serhi a bright smile.
“Dani Oppaw, ya can’t tease ya fwiend ‘cause dey not good at studyin’.”
“Your smug face pisses me off more.”

“Dat’s a bad wowd!”
Guru toddled over and smacked him with a duck-shaped grabber.
“Ow!”

Serhi rubbed his stinging thigh.
Someday I’m stealing that damn duck grabber…
…But why does it sting so much?

A duck grabber that bypasses S-Rank defense?
The hell? Who makes shit like that? What’s it even for?
Lost in thought, Serhi’s head filled with question marks as he pondered the grabber’s true purpose.

Meanwhile, Gidan—his head still planted on the table—spotted the calendar in his peripheral vision, shot up with sudden inspiration, and ripped a blank page from his notebook, shoving it toward Guru.
“Um?”
“Subjective question—what does Gwuu wanna have?”

Gidan tapped the paper, signaling her to write her answer.
“Wha Gwuu wanna haf?”
“Christmas is coming. Gotta ask Santa for presents.”

Santa!
Guru’s mouth fell open in awe.
Santa was the guy who snuck in during the night while everyone slept and left presents by the bed.

At the orphanage, they used to gather all the kids with birthdays that month and throw a joint party.
Somehow, Santa always knew, and he celebrated Guru’s birthday along with Christmas.
Will he celebrate dis year too?

After hesitating, Guru started writing her wish list one by one.
“Numba one, Lego.”
Just in case she wanna make a [Filial Piety Factory]!

She hadn’t decided yet, but {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} still.
“And den…”
A bicycle?

Guru buried her face in the notebook, deep in thought.
Watching her hesitate, Serhi mouthed a question to Gidan.
What’s the plan?

It wasn’t even the end of November. Too early for Christmas gifts, right?
Gidan shaped the words silently.
December third. Guru’s birthday.

Ah.
Serhi rested his chin in his hand, subtly peeking at the wishlist Guru was scribbling.
She wrote a few more items, then paused, staring at the page after writing Guildmastuh.

She wanted to call him Dad.
But after missing the right moment the first time, the words just wouldn’t come out.
Whenever she wasn’t thinking, “Guildmastuh” kept slipping off her tongue automatically.

Guru pouted, scratched out “Guildmastuh” with heavy lines, and rewrote “Appaw.”
A plushie for Daddy’s room
Heehee.

She stopped there, cheeks burning red, and put down her pen. Gidan smirked.
“Write more. There’s a lotta people in line.”
“Um? Dere lotsa Santa?”

“Tons. He’s gotta go ‘round the whole world. Can’t do that alone, right?”
Oh!
Guru nodded enthusiastically.

“So ya gotta fill da whole back page too.”
Nodding furiously, Guru shoved her nose back into the notebook, pressing her pen to the paper hard.
Serhi, softly chuckling, patted the back of Guru’s round little head as she grunted in concentration.

“Dis is hawd…”
Struggling with the list, Guru let out little frustrated noises.
“You don’t gotta finish it today,” Gidan said. “Carry it ‘round and write more later.”

“Uh-huh!”
Guru carefully folded the paper and tucked it into her pocket.
While she did, Gidan finally checked the messenger window that had been buzzing nonstop.

The 1st-year S-Class group chat was filled with complaints.
Everyone was pissed he’d ditched festival prep to slack off.
Gidan sent a groveling sticker, promising to make it up to them later.

Scrolling through the festival posters his classmates had sent, he forwarded them to Serhi and Guru’s phones.
The two of them checked the posters after receiving the pictures.
“What’s this?”

“Waaah! Dani Oppaw got a festival?”
“Come visit. I’ll show ya ‘round school. It’s huge, so it’s better to come early and look ‘round.”
“Gwuu wanna go, Gwuu wanna go!”

“Not interested.”
Guru shot her hand straight up, Serhi’s eyes drifted back to his workbook.
Gidan grinned wickedly.

“Yeah, a guy who loses spelling to a kindergartener better study harder.”
Snap—the lead in Serhi’s pencil broke.
Their eyes clashed with an electric crackle.

Guru’s mouth hung open.
Uh-oh… lightning fight…
After glaring at each other for a long moment, Serhi casually glanced at the math problem Gidan had been struggling with, scribbled down the answer easily, and smirked.

“Piece of cake? Ah, if you flunk and get held back, we’ll be in the same grade, huh?”
“……”
Gidan narrowed his eyes and clenched his fist.

The two boys, driven by pure rivalry, buried themselves back in their studies, while the Management Team members delivering snacks watched with warm smiles.
“Everyone’s workin’ hard, huh.”

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