Jun-ho’s discharge came five days later.

It was already late January. For a patient, it was a swift discharge—yet in another sense, a remarkably delayed one.

From the very moment he was first admitted to Hwaeum Hospital, Jun-ho’s condition had been stable.

The tests conducted from the day he opened his eyes were mostly formalities, and those had concluded days ago.

The delay in his schedule was largely due to external factors.

Jun-ho needed time to adapt to the fifteen-year gap, and the world outside needed time to prepare for his return.

On the day of his discharge, the area in front of Hwaeum Hospital was a madhouse.

Reporters were shouting at the top of their lungs, and the crowd gathered to catch a glimpse of Jun-ho was shouting even louder.

Jun-ho stood before them with a broad smile, his once-long hair trimmed short and neat, dressed in a puffer jacket and jeans.

Even during his active career, he had rarely worn suits, so this was a familiar sight to the public.

Only his hair, now turned pure white, marked the difference from back then.

“I never imagined you would remember me for so long. Seeing you all again brings me joy, and there’s so much I want to do. I’m planning to visit that seolleongtang restaurant Ho-jong raved about. He said even some remarkable foreign hunters have been there, so the line is supposedly long—I’m a bit worried.”

“Hahaha!”

He could have slipped out quietly, but he chose not to.

Somewhere within his sense of duty and loyalty, a conviction that he owed repayment to those who had waited for him outweighed his own peace—and so he spent a considerable amount of time among them.

It was a display of Jun-ho’s upright character.

In any case, that was how he wrapped things up.

With his housing and belongings to sort out first, Jun-ho headed to a single-family home in Cheongdam whose sale had just been completed.

It was a neighborhood where prominent high-ranking hunters in the Seoul area—Jun-ho’s acquaintances—clustered to live.

That was in the late afternoon, and Jung-woo, who had to guide him alongside Ho-jong, made a brief stop at the daycare to pick up Se-gi.

They needed to have dinner together, and he couldn’t very well leave the child unattended all this time.

Jun-ho and Se-gi’s first meeting was absolutely heartwarming.

“Hello! Hunter Chun Jun-ho! I’m Se-gi! Nice to meet you!”

“Hehehe! So you’re Hunter Shin’s daughter? What a cute kid!”

“Ehee! This is a present for Hunter Chun Jun-ho!”

Her uncharacteristically awkward yet cheerful manner of speech was, naturally, something she had rehearsed.

Because they had to pull Se-gi from daycare a bit early due to scheduling, Jung-woo had spoken to her teacher that morning. The teacher had made letter-writing and origami folding the day’s activities accordingly.

It was for the purpose of giving them to Jun-ho, and the children had loved it.

This was the era of the great hunter.

The hero who had been Korea’s strongest and finest was, naturally, an idol to children as well.

More precisely, his popularity had recently surged even higher for a particular reason.

“Oh my, what’s this? Is this a pinwheel?”

“Mhm! I mean, yes! Chun Jun-ho Storm Style!”

“Wow, kids these days know about that too!?”

“I saw it on TV! Yo!”

A documentary had aired at the beginning of the year, and one episode featured the Pyongyang Recapture Battle.

Se-gi had been counting down the days, waiting for it to air.

Naturally, she had watched the entire series during its initial broadcast, and alongside the combat footage, there were several segments reflecting on Jun-ho’s life.

An uncle who shouted technique names while fighting was an incredibly welcome presence for children at the age to go wild over sentai shows.

Thanks to Se-gi stomping her feet in excitement, the atmosphere became wonderfully warm.

“When you use Chun Jun-ho Storm Style, all the bad guys go flying, right~?”

“Hahaha! Of course! You have no idea how powerful Uncle’s fists are!”

“Then when you use Chun Jun-ho Typhoon Style, even the roof goes flying, right~?”

“You know Typhoon Style too!”

Jun-ho loved children, and the child loved Jun-ho—so the atmosphere, charged with an energy closer to a fan meeting, couldn’t have been better.

Jung-woo watched the scene with a satisfied smile.

【”Storm Style! Typhoon Style! Wind Blade!” The child has seen her hero from the TV! An encounter with an idol is always a special experience! [Great Caregiver (3/10)] *Collect stickers to unlock skills!*】

He had met many hunters, but this kind of notification was a first.

It spoke to just how special Jun-ho was to children.

In any case, amid the warm atmosphere, Jung-woo helped Ho-jong organize the mansion’s belongings.

At the house, the plush dolls that served as Se-gi’s playmates bustled about, squeaking ppokppok as they cleaned. Afterward, they also met with Hae-seo, Tae-woon, Kwon-seung, and others who had come bearing housewarming gifts bundled up in packages.

Everyone was dressed casually. They all lived within the same complex, after all.

Kwon-seung’s home was right next door—literally two houses over.

Seeing the man who was always impeccably dressed walking around in rather casual clothes was a novel sight for Jung-woo.

On another note, his conversations with Jun-ho were quite entertaining.

The familiar nagging about what to bring into the house reminded him of a doting grandfather.

“Buy a pine tree and plant it in the yard. When you look out the window, seeing it next to the pond would be quite lovely.”

“That’s enough. Don’t get all folksy on me.”

“You rascal.”

“And as for trees—why buy one with money? If I go visit Old Lady Soon-ae, she’d pick out a good one for me. I heard those cost hundreds of millions of won.”

“Ah, that’s right. When are you going to visit her?”

“I’m planning to go soon. I’m thinking of taking a trip to North Korea with Hunter Shin here.”

Jung-woo’s ears perked up at the mention of North Korea.

The exact schedule hadn’t been set yet.

However, this wasn’t the place to discuss it in depth.

“Ho-jong, order some jajangmyeon.”

“You heard him. Jung-woo? Order it.”

“The youngest always gets the short end of the stick.”

“Daddy! If we’re getting jajangmyeon, can we also get water dumplings!?”

“Sure, they have the dumplings Se-gi likes too. I’ll order them.”

It was moving day.

They ordered delivery from a Chinese restaurant, and Jun-ho said with a genuinely happy smile:

“This is nice. Coming back alive, you get to see things like this.”

His smile couldn’t have been more refreshing.

The year had begun with pleasant news.

Externally, the work that had been postponed due to the Japan business trip was now resolved and operations normalized. Internally, as he had previously considered, he was also looking around for a new home.

The residential area known as the Hunter Complex was the top candidate.

While helping with the move, he had noticed that the infrastructure was excellent and the security was exceptionally strong—which was what had won him over.

Jun-ho hadn’t yet decided on his future course.

Whether returning to active duty or retiring, it was a matter for after he had further adapted to society, so no one was pressing him.

He occasionally accompanied broadcasting network invitations to film light talk show appearances.

It was to share his current status with the public, and recently he had learned to use social media.

His follower count was reportedly growing at a pace that was shattering all-time platform records.

As an internationally renowned figure, that was to be expected.

The shock that all those people felt upon seeing the folksy Korean uncle’s social media posts was another story entirely.

After those days passed, Jung-woo headed to North Korea for the Lunar New Year.

Beyond the North Korean exploration with Jun-ho, the purpose was to meet Soon-ae, who resided in Pyongyang.

Naturally, Se-gi came along as well.

“There we go. Isn’t it nice for us family-less folks to gather and spend time like this? Eating together like this. Right?”

[Oh my, Jun-ho. Try this too.]

“Well, if you insist, I’ll eat. Se-gi, you eat more too!”

“Se-gi is full! Yo!”

[Should I give young Jung-woo another bowl of rice too?]

“Ahaha, I’m also full…”

[A young one who can’t even eat properly, tsk tsk.]

Soon-ae’s food aggression remained as strong as ever.

Fortunately, Jun-ho’s appetite was vast enough to handle it all.

Soon-ae’s face as she chuckled was truly radiant.

Indeed, she was someone who had always spent even the holidays in solitude.

With Jun-ho—her burden of heart—returned, and the sound of a child’s laughter filling the air, blossoms of joy had bloomed.

After finishing the meal, they chatted warmly together.

Then afterward, Jung-woo stepped outside with Jun-ho.

They would spend a few days here.

Soon-ae would watch Se-gi during the day, and they planned to head out for exploration in between.

Jun-ho stepped outside and spoke from inside the car.

“It really hasn’t sunk in yet. Pyongyang has changed this much already.”

“There’s still a long way to go. Roads are just being laid and buildings are just going up.”

“Still, compared to the Pyongyang I knew, it’s a miraculous transformation.”

Jung-woo smiled at Jun-ho’s words.

Excluding the mountain cottage where Soon-ae lived, Hwanghae Province and the Pyongyang area had indeed undergone dramatic transformation, just as he said.

Major roads had been laid within months of starting construction.

An eight-lane highway now connected Seoul to Pyongyang in one stretch, making transportation convenient.

Beyond that, various residential facilities, research complexes, and amenities aimed at Otherworld Studies professionals and hunters relocating to the area were going up.

In a few months, it would become a proper city.

Ultimately, infrastructure was built where people gathered. With hunters and guilds wielding at least hundreds of billions of won in capital establishing their businesses here, the population that followed was expected to alleviate South Korea’s chronic problem of capital region overconcentration.

Jun-ho seemed to be swelling with emotion.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect this either. As Hunter Shin well knows, it was a road to death.”

“…Did you meet them?”

“The Management Bureau old fogies? I didn’t bother. They banded together out of necessity, crossed the line, and now they’re paying the price for their crimes.”

He was a deeply compassionate man, yet on matters like this, he was clean-cut.

Apart from that, Jun-ho’s smile deepened.

“It’s getting better. That’s what I thought. Isn’t that wonderful? A world that was such a living hell is now finding hope and growing flesh.”

The land of North Korea held tremendous significance for Jun-ho.

It was a death trap, a lifelong aspiration, and the land where a miracle had occurred.

Jung-woo couldn’t presume to fathom the full depth of emotion Jun-ho felt toward this land’s transformation.

He could only think that things had turned out well, and feel glad for it.

“It’s thanks to Hunter Shin.”

“You can speak more comfortably with me.”

“No. To me, Hunter Shin is a benefactor.”

It was too heavy a word to hear from the hero who had saved the nation.

Yet, as had been the case from their first meeting to now, he maintained a certain deference toward Jung-woo.

Jung-woo could sense time and again that he meant it sincerely.

As a result, Jung-woo’s awkward smile only deepened, and as they chatted idly, they arrived at the undeveloped zone.

“From here on is the Erosion Zone boundary?”

“Yes. This area hasn’t been properly purified yet.”

This was Hamgyong Province, where the Haetae had been captured not long ago.

With Hwanghae Province and Pyongyang development taking priority, this area was currently left unattended, and even the color of the earth was different here.

Purifying an Erosion Zone was difficult.

Even Pyongyang had only reached its current state after closing all the resonating gates, binding their waveforms to Third gates, and pouring in trillions of won.

The zones that Soon-ae personally managed were safe enough for civilians to wander through, but here in the Hamgyong direction, the air itself was laced with the toxic miasma of mana.

This was where it began.

Jung-woo was here to learn about Erosion Zones from Jun-ho.

“I read your research. The design was well thought out in every direction.”

“It seems the academic society reviewed it as well?”

“I was curious. The gap in information between my era and now is enormous.”

Jung-woo nodded unconsciously.

When Jun-ho had decided to head to North Korea, information about Erosion Zones had been virtually nonexistent.

The practical applications of Third gates had only been discovered a few years prior.

It was a time when they could barely manage their internal affairs.

The progress since then was beyond comparison.

However, Jun-ho went on to challenge the current state of research.

“The focus was quite off. It can’t be helped, though.”

“In what way?”

“Perspective, I suppose. Researchers struggle to accept Erosion Zones on an emotional level, don’t they?”

It was an intriguing statement.

Jun-ho shifted his steps and ventured deeper into the undeveloped zone.

The atmosphere shifted.

At that moment, Jun-ho was different from the easygoing, straightforward man Jung-woo had known.

There was an edge to him.

It appeared to be focus rather than tension, yet a smile still lingered at the corners of his mouth.

“…Hunter Chun Jun-ho?”

“Hunter Shin—if it’s Hunter Shin, you’d know. You can tell just from watching a few subjugation videos. I’m certain Hunter Shin can see this ecosystem for what it truly is.”

Jun-ho scanned the surroundings, then stopped and plucked a single flower with dark blue-purple leaves.

“Before analyzing and understanding, there’s something we must do. Whatever we may be, we live on this land.”

“What do you mean…?”

“My expedition to North Korea failed. But that’s how life works, isn’t it? Lessons are always found in failure, not success.”

Jun-ho smelled the flower.

“Before the parasite took hold of me—before that thing completely possessed my body—I survived here for five years with my sanity intact.”

“…!”

“I couldn’t go back carrying this thing. But I couldn’t defeat it either. So I changed my thinking.”

This was a story Jung-woo had never heard before.

Yet it was also a statement laden with information.

“Preparing for every possible contingency, I studied this land. Because the answers would shape the future. So I treated the Erosion Zone as a single ecosystem and placed myself within its food chain.”

Questions multiplied in Jung-woo’s mind.

But before anything else, he needed to hear this story to the end.

Jun-ho smiled pleasantly and ate the flower petal.

It was an insane act.

That is, if it hadn’t been Jun-ho—the man who had survived alone in North Korea.

“This flower is edible. It’s native vegetation of the Erosion Zone, yet it enters our bodies as nutrients without any adverse reaction. But some are toxic. Why the difference? Why do some flowers remain non-hostile to us even after mutation, while others become viciously hostile?”

In that moment, Jung-woo felt as though lightning had struck his mind.

It was a perspective from a direction no one in the present era had ever considered.

“You’d need to create a control group? Classify organisms that remain non-hostile after erosion and those that become hostile?”

“Why?”

“Because there’s a reason for mutation. A reason they must change…”

Erosion didn’t create organisms that didn’t exist.

It was a mechanism that “altered what already existed.”

Some mutations had no significant impact on either side.

But some mutations developed hostile properties toward humanity during the transformation process.

Why.

What caused that difference.

The answer always lay in the clues hidden within the question.

Jung-woo realized it.

“…Because some things are lethal to magical beasts. When they correct those to suit their own needs, they become lethal to humans instead. The ones that don’t are ecological components that overlap between both sides.”

Jun-ho smiled with deep satisfaction.

“Yes, that’s the ecological perspective. Nothing is perfect. There are only rules and balances unique to each.”

Goosebumps rose on his skin.

It was so simple, yet a secret that could never be uncovered without the right clue.

At the same time, he understood.

The reason Jun-ho could reach such secrets so directly.

‘First generation.’

Those who had lived through the era when humanity’s extinction was debated and pushed the threat back.

The first explorers who had learned by throwing themselves bodily against disasters about which no information existed.

Why had he forgotten?

Even setting aside all his other achievements, there was a word that defined Jun-ho.

‘Hunting Training.’

This man was one of the compilers of Hunting Training—the hunter’s bible.

His perspective was inevitably different from the conventional view.

“You’ll have much to learn. If you intend to place Hunter Shin within this vicious ecosystem.”

That knowledge was the first key to unlocking the secrets of the otherworld.

No—it didn’t end there.

“There’s far too much to test together. Above all, regarding Hunter Shin’s abilities.”

Far too many secrets were held in that man’s hands.