By any universal measure, the greatest threat to the world in recent memory had been Jormungandr, which traversed the Pacific Ocean.

The mere fact that it was heading toward Japan had sent the entire world into an uproar—enough said.

However, a sense of crisis is an intensely personal and relative emotion.

If one were to ask Jung-woo, the protagonist of the subjugation, “Was Jormungandr the greatest threat of your life?” his answer would have been quite different.

It was inevitable, really.

“Se-gi~ Daddy’s sorry…”

Hospital break room.

Jung-woo crouched down and spoke to Se-gi, who had turned her back to him.

But Se-gi only turned her head slightly to shoot him a cheeky glance before letting out a “Hmph!” and turning away again. She grabbed the arms of Teddy Bear and Rabbit, whom she had stationed as escorts on either side, and made them shield her back.

Behind the dolls’ arms, the cheeks on either side of the back of her head poked out.

They looked like mochi rice cakes—adorable.

Setting aside that sentiment, this was the first time in either his past or present life that Se-gi had been this upset with him.

He was at a loss.

‘What do I do.’

Jormungandr was one thing—he could devise a strategy and subjugate it. But subjugating Se-gi? Was that even a remotely reasonable proposition?

He had mastered the art of subjugation, yet when it came to parenting, he was the greenest of novices.

It was better than having nothing but worry, but here he was, stamping his feet in front of a child who was upset.

The only thing an immature father like Jung-woo could do was apologize sincerely.

In the process, he fed her a convenient excuse.

“Daddy didn’t want to go play, but Mr. Ho-jong said he’d cry if I didn’t.”

“I said that?”

“He said if I didn’t play with him, he’d tell Mommy everything.”

“My mother passed away ten years—ow, okay. I’ll stay still. Don’t pinch me.”

“But next time, he won’t go along with it, so can’t you forgive Daddy?”

It was a slightly cowardly excuse, but it proved fairly effective.

The mature child Shin Se-gi, who took great interest in her father’s social circle.

Hearing that it was a request from Daddy’s Friend No. 1, her heart quickly softened.

“…Is that true?”

“Ah, yeah! It’s true.”

“Mr. Ho-jong dragged you there against your will, right~?”

“Yeah! Against my will!”

“Daddy went because friends are precious, right~?”

“Of course. You’re supposed to get along with your friends.”

“…But Se-gi likes playing too.”

“I thought you wouldn’t want to go since it was your free time. Daddy’s sorry.”

“Hng…!”

Perhaps it was hard for her to stay mad for long.

Then again, as bright and cheerful as Se-gi was, she was also a child with an innately exceptional capacity for empathy.

She had bottled up what she wanted to say for fear of getting in Daddy’s way, and only now had she begun to express her feelings honestly.

It was only after seeing Se-gi’s eyes brimming with tears that Jung-woo realized her emotional turmoil had been far deeper than he’d imagined.

“Next time, Se-gi wants to go together…!”

She didn’t want to be left behind.

In Se-gi’s five years of life, the time she had spent alone still outweighed the time she had spent with others.

A pang gripped Jung-woo’s chest, and he scooped Se-gi up into his arms.

“Okay, it’s a promise with Daddy. Next time, even if I have to go out at night, I’ll definitely carry you with me.”

“Eugh!”

“That’s enough now, stop crying. Daddy’s sorry.”

Se-gi buried her face deep into Jung-woo’s chest.

He felt her hospital gown growing damp.

At the same time, his body ached all over.

How much could a little girl possibly weigh, yet his arms still tingled from holding her.

That recoil was truly not to his liking.

“Are you two all made up now?”

Ho-jong sidled over.

Se-gi flinched and fixed a wary gaze on him.

“Meanie Mr. Ho-jong!”

“Me?”

“Mr. Ho-jong is a meanie today! You’re supposed to be Se-gi’s friend, but you dragged Daddy away against his will, so you have to reflect on it for a day! So Mr. Ho-jong isn’t Se-gi’s friend today!”

“I feel so hurt I might cry.”

“Please reflect on your actions, Mr. Chairman.”

“…Mr. Jung-woo, I’m definitely paying back this debt. I’ll run a few merchandise-related documents your way, so sign them without asking questions.”

The incident concluded with the one-day revocation of Ho-jong’s status as Se-gi’s friend.

It was, for all intents and purposes, a resolution with zero collateral damage.

By the time he came to, it was three in the afternoon. After rushing to find Se-gi, soothing her, and returning to his room, he could finally begin sorting through the aftermath of the subjugation one by one.

First were the alerts that had appeared the moment he opened his eyes.

‘Sea Otter and Shark evolved too.’

When a rank increases, an automatic reverse-summon occurs.

No wonder only Teddy Bear and Rabbit had been out—now he knew why. But with so much left to sort through, he decided to postpone checking them for later.

There was something else to verify.

His gaze shifted to the alert log.

【[Entity: Abiu] has been subjugated!】

‘Abiu…’

That must have been Jormungandr’s true name.

The reason the true name now appeared in its proper form in the system was clear.

‘Must be the Review Regulation. It’s a skill that even translates magical beast language.’

Jung-woo fell into thought as he stroked the back of Se-gi, who had fallen fast asleep after exhausting her mental energy.

‘Dreams…’

He had dreams.

Dreams with such clear purpose that he could instinctively tell they were no ordinary dreams—where he met someone and received incomprehensible messages. He experienced this from time to time.

And so, a thought took root.

‘There’s definitely something to this ability.’

There were visible clues as well.

The magical beasts had been targeting the Perfect Caregiver.

More precisely, they had been targeting the power that formed its foundation.

Even recalling his thoughts from his first awakening, it was strange.

Such doubts had surfaced.

‘Was that first time the end of it?’

So he turned on his laptop and connected to the Association’s data center.

Only then did he discover a fact that sent a chill down his spine.

‘gate occurrence frequency in the Seoul metropolitan area noticeably increased over the past year.’

He had only just noticed it.

Though it was understandable that it had been hard to catch.

‘…The very first thing I did after awakening was reset the gate density in Seoul.’

After his regression, he had entered the Countermeasure Bureau and reset Seoul’s gates.

That had been part of his process of dealing with the Management Bureau.

As a result, the shock threat had dropped significantly, so gate management companies likely hadn’t raised the increase in occurrence frequency as an issue.

They probably welcomed it, as they had to re-familiarize themselves with the reset gates anyway.

The truth had been obscured with exquisite precision.

‘Attempts to target me had been ongoing. Seoul’s gate defense system was so thorough that the magical beasts trying to force their way in were all sucked into Third gates instead.’

One more thought surfaced.

‘So Jormungandr’s southward movement was because of me too.’

It was a suffocating realization.

But was he crushed by guilt? Not quite.

‘Don’t entertain useless thoughts. In the end, there were no casualties, and plenty of things have improved compared to before.’

Besides, it was something beyond his control.

Wasn’t it also quite clear that disappearing from the world forever wasn’t the solution for everyone’s sake?

Whatever it was, dying of guilt or being caught by magical beasts would undoubtedly lead to something worse than the current situation. That much was certain.

It seemed far more right to cling tenaciously to life and drive them back far more thoroughly than before.

He needed at least that much audacity and confidence.

Not for his own sake, but for Se-gi’s.

‘Without this power, I can’t protect Se-gi. This power is connected to Se-gi.’

With things having reached that point, he was now maddeningly curious about the true nature of this aptitude.

What on earth was it?

No—what kind of beings were they, that they were so entangled with this power incorporated into the Hunter System?

One clue from the process.

‘Maybe Se-gi’s power was even more remarkable than I thought.’

The Perfect Caregiver, which appeared to be hostile toward magical beasts, was protecting Se-gi.

Assuming Se-gi’s future was split between becoming a Zero Gate Host and a hunter, this ability seemed to guide her toward awakening in the correct form.

And so, the conclusion he reached.

‘I really do need to find out. Beyond simply heading toward the Zero Gates…’

What these alien species and the Hunter System were.

He needed to understand the foundation of this invasion.

Merely preventing Se-gi from becoming the host of a Zero Gate didn’t seem like it would be the end of anything.

‘Once I return home, I should dig deeper into the academic society’s side.’

During the North Korean reclamation process, he had strengthened cooperation with the academic society.

It had been several months since professors had crossed into North Korea themselves to begin research.

And it wasn’t just domestic personnel.

Recently, having attracted Edmond’s full attention, world-renowned foreign scholars were also visiting under the guise of cooperation for Erosion Zone research.

‘The next academic conference is in March, wasn’t it?’

He was never more grateful for having advanced his own developments beforehand.

It would be wise to check the research progress before the conference.

That would be his first directive going forward.

And now, let us return to the story before all that.

“Ah, Hunter Shin Jung-woo…!”

“It feels like it’s been a while, Ms. Ichijomodori.”

“It really has. So much happened in such a short time…”

Around dinner time, Jung-woo was able to meet with Hikaru.

It was time to wrap up affairs in Japan.

Dinner with Hikaru was eaten out.

Her physical condition was far from good, so they couldn’t go far. They dined at a small restaurant near the hospital, and there, he felt it clearly.

‘I’ve become a celebrity.’

The restaurant owner recognized him instantly and bowed repeatedly.

It was so unfamiliar and embarrassing that Jung-woo just laughed awkwardly.

He had quite enjoyed being able to live normally for a while, but that thought was short-lived.

Jung-woo looked up.

Hikaru was seated across from him, and Se-gi, who had been lecturing Daddy not to go off on his own, was now glued to Hikaru’s side, treating Daddy as though he didn’t exist.

It was a bit hurtful, yet the scene was also heartwarming, so he smiled.

Then he asked Hikaru.

“You look quite exhausted. Are you alright?”

“Yes. It was something I had to do.”

“I saw the press conference.”

“…I see.”

Hikaru smiled awkwardly, then lowered her head.

“I’m sorry for deciding things on my own.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I heard the matter was already discussed with the Association Chairman and Hunter Ha Kwon-seung. They’re my superiors in that regard, so there’s no issue.”

“Still, you were the protagonist of the subjugation.”

“Everyone was the protagonist. Ms. Ichijomodori was a protagonist too.”

Hikaru still looked distinctly uncomfortable.

But from Jung-woo’s perspective, he was genuinely fine with it.

If anything, it was a welcome development.

Because the press conference had made it perfectly clear that Hikaru had found her own conviction.

“Have you found something you want to do?”

He asked that.

Before an answer came back, Jung-woo could already read affirmation in Hikaru’s eyes.

“I’m still not entirely sure.”

“That doesn’t seem to be the case.”

“I’m trying to figure it out, one step at a time. Before doing what I want to do, I think it’s right to first set straight what went wrong.”

Hikaru spoke.

“In the past… and until very recently.”

“Yes.”

“I thought my mother should have lived instead of me. I thought that if it were my mother, she would have built a better country than the one we have now, and saved far more people with this power.”

“That’s not a pleasant way to think.”

“Yes. Even so, I kept having those thoughts, so I felt guilty for being alive. I always thought I had to fulfill what people expected of me. Because I was born this way, because I had this power.”

“I see.”

“But now I know. Being swept along isn’t taking responsibility—it’s turning away from it.”

Her voice was very quiet and calm.

That was precisely why it also sounded resolute.

“It was turning away from the feelings of the mother who sacrificed herself to save me. Turning away from the heart that believed in me and trusted that I could do it.”

“And?”

“It was turning away from myself. Turning away from the countless people who look up to me.”

Jung-woo saw the smile that bloomed on Hikaru’s lips.

Faint, yet with a strong presence.

With her originally elegant and lovely features, it suited her remarkably well.

“So I won’t do that anymore. Not because I have to take responsibility, but for my own sake. So that I can be proud of myself, I intend to face this power—and myself—with everything I have.”

She had changed so much from when they first met.

A mere week had passed, but that didn’t matter.

After all, wasn’t this a period of growth?

A self not yet fully formed could bloom into an entirely different shape from even the smallest catalyst.

“I learned it thanks to you, Hunter Shin Jung-woo. Because you believed in me and helped me, I think I can do it now.”

Saying so, Hikaru needlessly fiddled with the deer keychain dangling from her wallet.

It was the Christmas present Se-gi had helped pick out for Hikaru.

Se-gi saw it and let out a bright laugh.

“Oh! The deer Se-gi picked!”

Jung-woo felt a swell of pride too.

She’s putting it to good use, he thought as he replied.

“I’m rooting for you. I hope everything goes well.”

Then Hikaru hesitated before asking.

“…Because I’m like a daughter to you?”

“Yes, because I see you as a daughter.”

“…She’s only five. The age difference.”

It was a low murmur, but he heard it clearly.

Perhaps she meant not to treat her like such a young child.

Though there was no helping the fact that she still looked like one.

The disaster that had shaken the Japanese archipelago concluded with the miraculous figure of zero casualties.

Many changes followed, both internally and externally.

Of those, the most significant was undoubtedly the schism between the Japanese government and its hunters.

The press conference Hikaru held sent shockwaves through the nation.

She had pointed out the Ministry of Defense’s lack of expertise in managing the hunter system regarding the accident that occurred during the subjugation.

Hikaru, along with the eighty-member support squad of the subjugation team, declared that they would separate from the government and defend the nation for the country’s future.

Even foreign media were paying attention.

It was the first time a Born S-Rank hunter—known to be the most passive—had ever instigated change. It was only natural.

By and large, people predicted Hikaru’s victory.

Not simply because she possessed the extraordinary rank of Born S.

The justification was on her side, and the citizens took her side in this crisis.

Beyond that, influential figures were also in Hikaru’s corner.

For starters, the eighty support squad members who had participated in the subjugation alongside her and become heroes.

Furthermore, the tide had shifted enough that the Korean Hunter Association stepped forward to back Hikaru.

Above all, pragmatically, the Japanese government was in no position to antagonize Hikaru.

Having exhausted their entire stockpile of Vertanium—a national treasury reserve—for the Jormungandr subjugation, they needed hunters’ hands more desperately than ever.

At a time like this, if relations soured with Hikaru—their apex and representative—there was no guaranteeing what might happen to public order. She was inevitably the one holding the upper hand.

In the end, the outcome was decided.

The key lay in how negotiations would proceed, and Hikaru was so busy that she was spending the better part of each day on that very matter.

But isn’t there a common saying?

That love blooms even in times of war.

The same held true for political strife.

Ichijomodori Hikaru, seventeen years of age.

In the midst of it all, she was suffering through her first love.

“Ugh…”

Late at night, having finished all her scheduled appointments and returned to her room, Hikaru lay flat on her back in perfect posture, glaring at the stains on the ceiling as she agonized.

There was someone who kept coming to mind—someone who, every time she thought of him, made her chest grow warm and tingly.

Someone who had helped her so much, become her pillar of support, and promised to continue doing so.

There was no need to agonize over it.

It was frustrating to be treated like a child, and she wished he were just a little bit closer.

She was not so naive as to not recognize those feelings as love.

‘I like him. I definitely like him.’

He was a child’s father, a foreigner, and someone who didn’t even see her as a woman.

Even so.

‘…I still like him.’

And so, she wished he would like her back.

She thought it might not be so bad.

Se-gi liked her, she liked Se-gi, an international couple… or something like that. She thought it was quite trendy, and above all, in one year and one day, she would be the same age as him—an adult.

Everything seemed not so bad at all.

There were friends online who validated those thoughts.

Hikaru habitually turned on her smartphone and navigated to the news comments.

[Shin Jung-woo must cooperate more closely with Japan’s Hunter community. His joint attacks with Ms. Ichijomodori are the world’s strongest. Stronger friendship is needed.]

Upvote.

[They need to form a marriage alliance lolololol]

Upvote.

[You crazy people, what are you saying about a minor???]

Downvote.

Ichijomodori Hikaru, real-life friends: none.

With Jormungandr subjugated, stormy days surely lay ahead, yet even so, there was a small margin of leisure.

From time to time, she checked online reactions.

Like any teenager, she satisfied her need for self-validation through ego-surfing, and whenever she came across comments like these, she pressed upvote or downvote, cultivating “friends.”

A peculiar habit had taken root.

At any rate, in the midst of all this sincerity, she had reached a conclusion after thinking she should at least make some effort before Jung-woo departed.

‘New Year’s shrine visit. Maybe I should ask him to go together.’

It was a reasonable excuse.

There would be a festival at the shrine, so she could wear a kimono, dress up prettily, spend time together, do something with him, and listen to the temple bells.

Of course, even if her heart harbored such frivolous fantasies, realistically there was a wall.

‘I should invite him…’

With her introverted nature, even figuring out how to broach the proposal was daunting.

She could easily spend an entire day just agonizing over it.

December 30th had already ended.

The morning of December 31st arrived.

Even then, Hikaru was still hesitating.

But she couldn’t put it off any longer.

Hikaru took several deep breaths.

She rolled the words she wanted to say around in her mouth.

Resolve upon resolve upon resolve.

Now, it was truly time to go say it.

Even after steeling her resolve—

“…He’s returning home today?”

“Yes, he mentioned he has New Year’s schedule commitments.”

“…”

“The departure send-off is scheduled for three hours from now. This was the matter I reported to you yesterday, but…”

Ichijomodori Hikaru, soon to be eighteen.

Today, her heart died.