A single figure descended from the aircraft.

He was a middle-aged man whose presence seemed utterly out of place in the modern era—standing nearly two meters tall, draped in a black long coat, with a sharp, commanding visage.

Demon Heaven True Marshal, Ak Jinsan.

At least, that was the name the man went by, if one were to follow the arbitrary moniker the Central Plains 16 Nations had bestowed upon him.

By martial prowess alone, he was the foremost in the Central Plains.

Yet he lacked the reach to unite the entire region, and so currently contented himself with ruling the territory of Beijing.

He strode forward with haughty indifference through the barrage of camera flashes.

Jung-woo looked up at the man who had finally stopped before him and smiled brightly.

“A pleasure to meet you, Supreme Leader. I am Shin Jung-woo.”

“The honor is mine. I am Ak Jinsan.”

Despite the polite words, his demeanor radiated hostility thick enough to choke on.

He did not, however, let it show entirely.

He wanted something—and that naturally demanded restraint.

“You speak the Central Plains tongue.”

“Haltingly, but yes.”

“So long as you can make yourself understood, it suffices. Let us go.”

Jung-woo exchanged a glance with Ho-jong.

For the plan to proceed as intended, Ho-jong needed to stay behind and receive the other guests.

Ho-jong gave a curt nod, and Jung-woo led Ak Jinsan out of the airport.

With reporters swarming the premises, conversation was virtually impossible.

And so it was only after they had boarded the prepared vehicle that dialogue resumed.

Ak Jinsan was the first to speak.

“We would have met soon enough, even without this arrangement.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“You are not unaware that the North American madman seeks to convene the Council. I would prefer to dispense with needless posturing.”

So that was his disposition.

The remark was remarkably direct, and Jung-woo abandoned any pretense of circumlocution.

“This is a matter separate from the Council. As I understand it, the Council’s role does not extend to mediating minor disputes between nations.”

“A matter that could reshape the entire balance of the Central Plains—and you call it minor.”

“It is minor to me. It is, after all, someone else’s country.”

The provocation was deliberate.

Veins bulged along Ak Jinsan’s forehead.

“I fail to grasp your intent. Are you saying you intend to make an enemy of Jing Nation?”

“Then I wouldn’t have invited you, would I?”

“Then explain why you insist on needling me like this.”

“To become friends, of course. They say the best friendships are forged through conflict.”

It was a stance that flagrantly violated every norm of business etiquette.

No one understood that better than Jung-woo himself.

The whole affair left a bitter taste in his mouth—it simply was not his style.

But he was not so foolish as to avert his eyes from a definitive solution for something as trifling as personal preference.

Jung-woo maintained his beaming smile.

He hoped, sincerely, that Ak Jinsan would feel as thoroughly uncomfortable as possible.

Ak Jinsan found himself experiencing a peculiar sensation as he accompanied Jung-woo.

‘Is he deliberately provoking me?’

According to the intelligence they had gathered, Shin Jung-woo was an exceedingly well-mannered individual who simultaneously possessed a cunning sharp enough to be called Machiavellian.

His outward stance was remarkably transparent—apply the principle of self-interest, and nearly every action of his became intelligible.

In short: a man who would flip his emotions and attitude on a dime in service of profit.

A man with distinctly sociopathic tendencies.

That was the Jing Nation diplomatic team’s assessment of Jung-woo.

Ak Jinsan found himself partially agreeing.

An unmistakable undercurrent of discomfort ran through their conversation, yet the surface tone was maintained at the level of casual everyday exchange.

For that to be coincidence, both the intelligence he had received and that smile of Jung-woo’s suggested far too much deliberate intent.

This was not a man one encountered easily.

Above all, the way he circled his words without ever plainly stating his purpose made him all the more inscrutable.

In that atmosphere, the vehicle crossed into North Korea.

The meeting point was Pyongyang.

As Ak Jinsan gazed out the window, greed and anxiety crystallized simultaneously in his chest.

“So this is the famous Purification Zone.”

“Yes. Korea’s next-generation business venture, you might say.”

“An entire nation’s territory as a business venture…”

A hollow laugh—but one that bordered on genuine awe.

“Fortune smiles upon your nation.”

It was no empty flattery.

Since the Millennium Shock, the moment the resource known as mana fell into human hands, the world had undergone a seismic transformation.

The possibilities inherent in that pure energy were simply too vast.

Properly refined, it could produce heat output approaching nuclear power.

Moreover, its malleable nature—its affinity for modification—meant it could be applied across countless domains, not merely as a raw energy source.

There was, however, a single catch: this resource could only be harvested in its purest crystalline form from beyond the gates.

Whether magic stones or environmental factors from the other side of the gates, the principle held true.

This was precisely why hunters stood at the center of society—and why the value of Erosion Zones was skyrocketing.

An Erosion Zone that had been fully purified would have all of its environmental resources saturated with mana.

‘Gold dust.’

Above all else—Vertenum.

This was an environment where one could extract astronomical quantities of the resource known as the heart of modern hunter weaponry.

That was precisely why the three eastern nations of the Central Plains had bothered to come all this way.

The moment a land route was opened through the recovery of Pyongan Province, any nation that signed an agreement with Korea would see its Vertenum reserves increase dramatically.

It was a restructuring of the power dynamic—and that powder keg would serve as a tool of coercion against neighboring states without ever needing to be detonated.

He needed to secure that.

And in Ak Jinsan’s estimation, he was positioned to negotiate from a more advantageous vantage than the other two.

After disembarking, he followed Jung-woo’s lead.

At the suggestion that they needed a quieter place to talk, the two men headed toward Hamgyong Province.

It was the former wetlands where the Haetae had once dwelled.

Here, at least, he was certain no one would dare linger nearby.

Only then did Ak Jinsan speak.

“May we get to the main topic?”

“The main topic being?”

“The resource agreement.”

Ak Jinsan had little patience for beating around the bush.

“I trust you are not unaware. The moment you sign an agreement with Jing Nation, the eastern Central Plains will be unified with certainty. By then, Jing Nation’s power will be of a magnitude no foreign nation can afford to ignore—and we do not abandon the brothers who lent their hands to that endeavor.”

“Guanxi, was it?”

“The bonds of righteousness and humanity of the Central Plains.”

He did not belabor the point with convoluted arguments.

Judged purely on mutual diplomatic interests, Jing Nation was the partner capable of delivering the greatest benefit to Korea.

This had been true even before the current situation.

Jing Nation and Korea had long maintained a sea route and had shared profits through mutual trade for years.

Korea had no reason to upend that established relationship and restructure the dynamic.

Future concerns? The worry of a potential betrayal?

“Unnecessary anxieties, at least while we are bound by the Council.”

One need only consider the Council’s primary purpose to arrive at the answer.

“The Council exists to prevent interference in one another’s territories. So long as you remain the master of Korean soil, I—a member of the Council—will never stand against you.”

The Council existed as a non-aggression pact among hegemon.

That had been its founding purpose, and thereafter it had served as a forum for votes advancing their mutual interests.

Ex-grade.

The pinnacle of chosen humanity.

Ak Jinsan took immense pride in that status—and harbored not the slightest doubt that this feeling was warranted.

“Is there truly reason for hesitation?”

At that, Jung-woo replied.

“I have something else I desire more.”

“Which is?”

“Before that, I’m curious. Why do you oppose Zero Gate exploration?”

Ak Jinsan’s brow furrowed.

“…So you share the North American madman’s position after all.”

“Why leave a threat to humanity intact when we have the power to act?”

Only then did Ak Jinsan understand the source of Jung-woo’s discomforting attitude.

His purpose had been Zero Gate all along.

That was why he could not tolerate Ak Jinsan casting a dissenting vote in the proceedings.

Yet attributing it to emotional reasons seemed at odds with the intelligence profile.

A sociopathic man who would swap masks in pursuit of profit.

There had to be more behind those words—so he probed further.

‘He wants the vote in favor of Zero Gate? To eliminate any potential variables?’

That explanation actually made more sense.

If he was testing the waters for precisely that purpose, every action fell into a coherent pattern.

He was proposing a trade: the Zero Gate vote of approval in exchange for the resource agreement.

It was an uncomfortable proposition.

Ak Jinsan felt the need to persuade.

“You cannot be unaware of how dangerous it is to make Zero Gate your objective.”

“I’ve heard the general explanation. Both regarding the grades and the nature of parasites.”

“And yet you say such things? Knowing full well it could mean senseless death?”

“I’m aware of just how dangerous an enemy it is. Which is precisely why I find it puzzling.”

“What more is there to say here?”

“Surely the possibility is sufficient? The case of Hunter Chun Jun-ho alone demonstrates that even an S-Rank can resist a parasite. The Council members, all Ex-grade, would never be infected by a parasite in that environment. And even in the unlikely event of infection, it changes nothing. My ability—I can tear a parasite out.”

So he had a foundation for his confidence.

No—it went beyond that. He harbored outright overconfidence in his abilities.

Ak Jinsan saw arrogance in Jung-woo’s words.

The kind that could only come from a man who had never been broken.

He ground his teeth audibly and spoke.

“That is nothing more than superficial hope. You underestimate Zero Gate far too greatly.”

“In what regard?”

“The Zero Gate host is the combination of an Ex-grade talent overlaid with the power of a magical beast that transcends even Out-of-Rank classification. And that is not the end of it. Its escorts are S-Rank Champions. At least five of them are distributed across the zone.”

And then there was the environment.

Above all else, the environment was the true horror.

“This is not the same as purifying an Erosion Zone. Establishing a camp? Don’t make me laugh. This is a place where S-Rank Champions cooperate—not for territorial defense, but to serve as the King’s guard. Do you think they will permit you to manage your condition? Will you still be at full strength by the time you breach their lines and reach the King’s throne?”

The answer was obvious to anyone who gave it a moment’s thought.

It was a hornet’s nest with nothing to gain from poking.

Zero Gate was best treated as lost land and erased from one’s mind.

That was the orthodox view, and further explanation was pointless.

After delivering that rebuke, Ak Jinsan softened his tone.

“Offer something else instead. Beyond the Zero Gate vote, the Council oversees countless other resolutions. Consider the benefits those could bring you.”

“What meaning is there in that? If the Zero Gate host seeks to expand its territory, it means we simply have to sit and take it.”

“You worry excessively. That has not happened in the past thirty years, and the probability going forward is exceedingly low. Academic data supports this.”

“Another ten years of safety, at least. Beyond that, who can say.”

“An unconfirmed threat versus tangible profit waiting to be seized right before your eyes. I trust you understand which carries greater weight.”

At that, Jung-woo let out a low murmur and broke into an awkward laugh.

“As I suspected, Supreme Leader. You are that sort of man.”

“Negotiation is a process of mutual concession. If not the Zero Gate vote, I can assist you in any number of other matters.”

“Negotiation, negotiation…”

Jung-woo let the word trail off.

In that moment, Ak Jinsan felt a vague unease.

‘Why?’

Jung-woo still had not altered his demeanor.

The casually dismissive remarks that created an uncomfortable atmosphere, the grating attitude.

And yet, not an entirely hostile one.

Once his objective was achieved, he should have shifted.

If he had wanted a constructive conversation, the topic should have changed at this point.

But the answer that came back was strange.

“Truth be told, I hadn’t really considered this a negotiation.”

“…What?”

“Negotiation is what equals do, isn’t it?”

Ak Jinsan failed to grasp Jung-woo’s meaning immediately.

The implication was too outlandish.

“What are you saying…”

“I’m not the one who’s desperate. So I have no need to make concessions. That’s what I realized.”

A chill raced down his spine.

Something was wrong.

Where had it gone wrong? He searched—and the answer loomed.

“…The other two. Where are they and what are they doing?”

The leaders of Man Nation and Haewon Kingdom, who had been scheduled to arrive on the same day—where were they, and what were they doing?

Enough time had passed since their arrival. With whom were they negotiating?

Surely—

“Well, it’s better for us if we can sell to multiple buyers, isn’t it? We’re in the middle of some very pleasant transactions.”

“You mad—!”

“Jing Nation is in trouble, isn’t it? Barking at your neighbors when you’ve lost your teeth.”

Ak Jinsan was aghast.

“You wretch—!”

Kkwa-rururururung!!!

The earth trembled and heaved.

A pulse of mana shook the heavens.

He had been lured here—while the resource agreements proceeded separately elsewhere.

It was to sink teeth into Jing Nation’s throat.

“You’re trying to eliminate me completely! This madman actually—!”

If he could not increase the votes in favor of Zero Gate, he would eliminate the votes against.

That appeared to be Jung-woo’s true aim.

Diplomatic censure?

It carried no weight. At least within the current Central Plains dynamic, this was a development everyone would welcome—and even on the international stage, if Jung-woo framed it as an unprovoked assault, there would be no shortage of parties willing to lend him their support.

“I should have remembered you run with the same crowd as that madman!”

It was in that moment that he launched his fist.

Jjeooooong—!

Light erupted between them, solidifying into a translucent mirror that bisected the space.

Ak Jinsan’s opening strike was redirected skyward, its trajectory warped.

Beside Jung-woo, the Sea Otter now stood with a blankly nonchalant expression.

Jung-woo let out a hollow laugh.

“How bloodthirsty. Why would I want to eliminate you completely?”

“You impudent wretch—!”

Kkwarrrlll!!!

Magical energy coiled around Ak Jinsan’s body.

Just before he lunged, Jung-woo spoke.

“Calm yourself. I’m doing this for a reason.”

Chwaaaak—!

Hundreds of shark shadows erupted from the ground.

“I told you. I don’t want to make concessions. Put differently—I want to take everything.”

Ak Jinsan felt a bizarre sensation.

A sense of crisis surged through him like madness.

“What in the world…”

“I don’t want the balance of the Central Plains to shift. It would become too noisy. And I want to explore the Zero Gate. As you said, Supreme Leader, it’s a horrifically difficult undertaking. That’s why I need more hands. I needed you as an ally.”

It was absurd.

What Jung-woo had done was tear Jing Nation to shreds, was it not?

As revulsion surged to the crown of his head, Jung-woo’s eyes curved.

“So I thought about it. If the Supreme Leader has no reason to explore the Zero Gate, then I simply need to give him one.”

“…!”

Only then did Ak Jinsan understand Jung-woo’s true intent.

Jung-woo continued.

“When your surroundings become dangerous, you need to request outside help. I can provide that. I can’t offer you a resource agreement, but I need Ak Jinsan for the Zero Gate exploration endeavor—so Jing Nation must not be touched. I can convey exactly that to the agreement nations.”

He had been wrong.

“A noble cause matters, doesn’t it? None of the Central Plains monarchs would be foolish enough to stab in the back the man marching off to save humanity.”

This man was not thinking about international politics or diplomatic interests in the slightest.

“You become the hero who saved humanity. Ah, are you familiar with the term ‘untouchable’? It refers to the person in tag who cannot be caught…”

He wanted one thing.

The right to explore Zero Gate.

And beyond that—the securing of exploration forces.

“Supreme Leader, you’ve become untouchable. You become the safest monarch in the Central Plains.”

He had laid this entire board for that purpose.

Which meant Ak Jinsan had miscalculated.

‘There’s someone worse than Edmond Richmond?’

His failure to anticipate that this man would go to such lengths for a single objective—that was his miscalculation.

His assumption that Jung-woo wanted something as tepid as a vote in favor of exploration—that was his miscalculation.

He had been wrong.

Korea’s Council Member Shin Jung-woo was a vicious egotist who would not be satisfied unless his desires were fulfilled with absolute, zero-margin-for-error precision.

Summoning all three nations simultaneously to create the illusion of competitive bidding.

Grating his nerves with ambiguous provocations to obscure his intent.

Drawing him alone to this place.

All of it was deliberate.

What this man had wanted from the moment he laid out this board was to fasten a leash around his neck that could never be loosened.

The moment he saw through it all—

Deudeudeudeudeu—!

The veins on Ak Jinsan’s forehead bulged.

The realization that his foot was caught in an inescapable trap ignited a fury beyond words.

That was why he charged.

“Baaaaastard—!”

Kkwaaaang!!!

“This works too. We were supposed to become friends through fighting, weren’t we?”

Jung-woo murmured with an exceedingly refreshing expression.

“Looking forward to our partnership, friend.”

The sharks surged as one.