Chapter 29: Face to Face (1)

The reception room was smaller than expected.

It held just two small sofas and a table.

Min Kyung-hwa placed some snacks and drinks on the table before sitting down.

“So, what happened in the dungeon?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Why are you acting like this? Do we have secrets between us?”

Min Kyung-hwa leaned in with a smiling face, applying silent pressure. She seemed convinced something had happened in the dungeon.

This is getting dangerous…

Min Kyung-hwa had a habit of digging relentlessly into anything she sniffed out.

It wasn’t for nothing that people called her a truth-sniffing bloodhound.

“I even asked Ho Changwoo, who’s joining us as a rookie, and he said nothing happened.”

“You interrogated Ho Changwoo?”

“Of course, for half a day straight.”

Changwoo, I’m sorry!

I felt pity for Ho Changwoo, who must have endured half a day of formal torture.

Still, the fact that Min Kyung-hwa didn’t know the truth about the dungeon incident meant he hadn’t spilled anything.

“Do you really believe something unusual happened in the dungeon?”

“Of course. My instincts are never wrong.”

I wanted to argue, but she wasn’t wrong.

Min Kyung-hwa’s intuition was eerily sharp and precise.

Of course, I could tell her the truth.

She’s loyal and a strong leader.

But her one flaw is her loose lips, though she might keep the dungeon incident secret.

I’m already under suspicion.

Whether I like it or not, if Min Kyung-hwa starts digging seriously, I won’t be able to hide the truth forever.

“I’m sorry, but nothing really happened in the dungeon.”

I chose to conceal the truth.

Min Kyung-hwa might figure it out someday.

But not now.

Shin Ahyeon, who has the skill to tame monsters.

If others found out, people would come rushing in, salivating.

Even with trustworthy people, information should be hidden as much as possible.

“Ugh, fine! If you keep denying it, I can’t keep pressing…”

Min Kyung-hwa ruffled her hair roughly, looking frustrated.

She must be conflicted.

With her sharp instincts, she likely sensed I didn’t want to talk, even if something did happen.

The Association is probably desperate to uncover the truth.

Will Min Kyung-hwa follow the Association, or honor her bond with me?

It was all up to her.

“Fine, I give up! I won’t dig into the incident anymore.”

Min Kyung-hwa chose loyalty.

She could have uncovered the truth and reported it to the Association, but she didn’t.

“Thank you, Min Kyung-hwa.”

She shot me a sharp glare, as if annoyed.

“If you’re that grateful, how about marrying my daughter—”

“No thanks.”

“Tch!”

Min Kyung-hwa clicked her tongue, as if it was a pity.

“By the way, the Association seems to be in a mess. Is something going on?”

As if reminded of an unpleasant reality, Min Kyung-hwa frowned.

She stood up to leave the reception room.

“Don’t even ask. A hunter who emigrated to another country stopped by Korea recently. He’s at the Association right now, but don’t bother meeting him.”

“Why not?”

“His personality is so weird, just being near him drains you. You should get out of the Association as soon as you can.”

For Min Kyung-hwa to warn me so earnestly, how strange must this person be?

The moment she turned the doorknob, the quiet office became noisy.

Yoon Cheonwoo was staring at one spot, on guard.

A man with long hair tied back and a sharp demeanor stood there.

When did he get in?

Min Kyung-hwa, an A-rank hunter, was here.

She would’ve noticed a stranger entering right away.

Even standing still, the man’s mana made my senses sharpen to their limit.

S-rank? No… this is on par with the Hongyeom Guild Leader.

Yoon Kang-hyun, the Hongyeom Guild Leader, has strength that surpasses S-ranks.

There’s even a half-serious joke that he could wipe out an entire S-rank party alone.

How many people could match Yoon Kang-hyun’s mana?

I’d bet you could count them on three fingers.

The gap between me and the man before me was clear.

His mana was so vast, I couldn’t see its limits.

“Mikael… Why are you here?”

The man looked disappointed.

“Mikael? I used to be Korean, so you could at least call me Kim Yuseung.”

“Shut up. I have no reason to show courtesy to a traitor who abandoned his country.”

Mikael… I’ve heard that name before.

He was a hunter who emigrated to the U.S. before the concept of hunters fully took hold.

I heard he was a rival to Yoon Kang-hyun.

When he changed his nationality to American, people called him a traitor.

I remember it clearly because it was quite a scandal.

Mikael’s eyes turned toward me.

With a single step, he closed the distance and grabbed my hand.

“You must be Kim Onyu. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“…Who did you hear about me from?”

Even if I was part of the Hongyeom Guild, I’m just an E-rank hunter.

There’s no way Mikael would know about me.

No, there’s only one person who could’ve told him.

“I heard from Yoon Kang-hyun. He said he has a highly capable subordinate. So, please don’t be so wary.”

Unpleasant.

An inexplicable displeasure welled up inside me.

I had the urge to shake off his hand immediately.

“Kim Onyu! Didn’t you say you had something urgent? Hurry and go!”

Min Kyung-hwa diverted Mikael’s attention.

Taking the chance, I pulled my hand away.

“Sorry, I have something to attend to, so I’ll be going.”

Mikael said nothing.

He just smiled, as if he knew I was lying.

As I was about to leave with the kids, Mikael spoke.

“Mr. Kim Onyu, we’ll meet again soon.”

“…Maybe.”

I hope we don’t.

I deliberately ignored Mikael’s sly smile.

“My last piece of advice: don’t blindly trust the system.”

★★★

With the clicking of a mouse, Kwon Jun-seung let out a heavy sigh, as if the ground might swallow him.

Propping his chin, he stared blankly at the monitor with an indifferent expression.

“Sunbae, something troubling you?”

Bang Yoon-hyuk, a junior who recently joined, poked his head in and asked.

“Yoon-hyuk, there’s no talent. No talent at all.”

Hanryong Guild wasn’t among Korea’s top five guilds but ranked in the top ten.

Kwon Jun-seung was the head of Hanryong Guild’s scouting team.

While other guilds were snapping up talent, they were getting nothing.

The new hunters who joined were all B-rank or C-rank, which said it all.

At this rate, the title of a major guild might get tarnished.

“If only we could’ve recruited Ho Chang-wook.”

The hunter who cleared the world’s first restricted dungeon.

Ho Changwoo shot to stardom overnight.

The guild of the hunter who cleared the world’s first dungeon—how appealing that sounds.

Lately, talent was being poached by other guilds or the Association, leaving the recruitment department with nothing but flies.

“Hm? Who’s this guy?”

While reviewing data from the restricted E-rank dungeon, Kwon Jun-seung furrowed his brow.

He leaned in so close his face nearly touched the monitor.

“Yoon-hyuk, look into this guy’s identity.”

The man Kwon Jun-seung pointed to was holding a child in his arms.

He already knew the list of hunters who entered this dungeon by heart.

But he’d never seen this man’s face on that list.

It was a fleeting glimpse, lasting less than a second.

Only Kwon Jun-seung, who’d reviewed the footage thousands of times, could’ve caught it.

‘I’ve got a feeling… a strong feeling!’

This was the instinct of a team leader who’d recruited numerous talents.

Bang Yoon-hyuk’s hands started moving quickly.

Despite the poor image quality, Yoon-hyuk found the information in no time.

Though only a D-rank hunter, Yoon-hyuk had a unique skill that got him scouted for the recruitment team.

His observational eye could pinpoint minimal details like a name.

Now, that skill was shining.

“Huh? I looked him up in the Association’s records, and he’s E-rank.”

“What?!”

“E-rank hunter.”

“That’s strange. My gut can’t be wrong…”

His instincts had never failed him before.

“Huh? That’s weird. I tried to dig deeper, but the Association has a lock on his info.”

“A lock on a mere E-rank hunter’s information?”

Locks were usually reserved for high-rank hunters.

They were expensive, and there was rarely a need to look into low-rank hunters’ info anyway.

Kwon Jun-seung shot up from his seat and grabbed his coat.

“Where are you going?”

“To recruit a new talent!”

★★★

It seems I’m not cut out for Seoul.

Every step I take here stirs up some kind of incident or trouble. It’s exhausting.

I just want to finish my business and go back to the countryside.

At this rate, I won’t have any life left in me.

All I want is a simple, peaceful retirement life. Is that too much to ask?

Still, there’s a reason I have to keep moving.

I absolutely hate the idea of peace built on the sacrifice of children.

Just yesterday, I heard from the construction manager that the school was finally completed.

Once we return, regular classes can resume.

‘By the way, no matter how I look at it, I have no idea what this is for.’

I fiddled with the ring I got from the dungeon.

I’m wearing it just in case, but I have no clue what it does…

The system doesn’t seem to have any intention of telling me.

It’s like it’s saying, “Figure it out yourself if you want to know.”

Tch, it feels like a useless trinket now, but maybe I’ll figure out what it is later.

‘All I got from coming to Seoul was Shin Ahyeon’s awakening, huh.’

I succeeded in Shin Ahyeon’s awakening quest.

That means I’ve taken one step closer to saving the world.

The strange thing is, it wasn’t a full awakening—just a partial one.

She seems to have gained a skill, but her stats haven’t changed much.

Why not just give her a proper awakening? What’s with this half-measure?

“Partial awakening” sounds like wordplay.

“Teacher, I think we can go in now.”

Kim Seogun’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

His face, unusually tense, looked dark and trembling with nervousness.

Today was finally our last day in Seoul.

I’d left Ker and the other kids with Seol Ah-hyun.

Thankfully, Seol Ah-hyun, who loves kids, agreed readily.

Of course, Han Yuseong looked like he’d bitten into something sour.

Man, I should’ve taken a picture of that face!

“Alright, let’s go in.”

Opening the door revealed an unmistakably luxurious office.

This was the chairman’s office of the Kangsan Group.

Who would’ve thought I’d get a call from the chairman himself to meet the very next day?

It felt like work kept piling up without a break.

I just wanted to finish this quickly and go home.

Inside the office was a sharply dressed man.

It was Kim Han-shin, the chairman of Kangsan Group, whom I’d seen on TV.

A secretary and Kim Seogun’s older brother, who looked about my age, stood nearby.

“You’re here. Please, have a seat.”

On the surface, Kim Han-shin looked like the kind, exemplary businessman portrayed in the media.

“Kim Seogun, aren’t you going to greet your father after all this time?”

Kim Han-shin’s smile sharpened.

Kim Seogun flinched, his lips trembling slightly.

“…I’m sorry, Father.”

“If you know you’re wrong, that’s enough. Sit down.”

Is that his true face?

It wasn’t just cold—it was razor-sharp.

Kim Han-shin leaned forward, looking at me.

“So, you’re saying you oppose sending Seogun to transfer schools?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

I spoke confidently, without a hint of wavering.

After a brief silence, Kim Han-shin let out a short laugh.

“Everyone has a limit to what they can handle. As you know, Seogun is the second son of Kangsan Group. Compared to that, what are you?”

His tone was unmistakably condescending.

Kim Dong-hyuk, Seogun’s brother, didn’t even bother hiding his smirk.

“In other words, you’re saying I’m not worthy of guiding Seogun?”

“You catch on quickly. Why don’t you leave Seogun here and return to the countryside, Teacher?”