It had been about two weeks since the Korean Hunter Association’s inauguration.

Since it was a reform of the localized hunter community, ordinary citizens experienced little change in their daily lives. But for those involved, it was nothing short of a seismic upheaval.

The academic community studying gates was no exception.

“Hmm? The Association is hosting an academic conference?”

“Yes, Professor. Hunter Shin Jung-woo took over the Gate Disaster Management Department, didn’t he? It appears the annual conference duties have been transferred to his department.”

“Well, as long as the conference happens, I don’t care who hosts it. Noted.”

The conference’s organizer had changed.

Of course, to the professors attending, it wasn’t a particularly significant matter.

“The person in charge is Hunter Shin Jung-woo… He’s certainly a remarkable man, but how much academic knowledge could he really have? Hunters are field workers—their domain is entirely different from ours. Still, I suppose…”

This would likely be the Association’s first official event since its inauguration.

Having reached that conclusion, the professors continued.

“We should be mindful, at least. It’s a new hunter-related organization, and the Gate Disaster Management Department has direct ties to our work.”

Under the old system, all national gate-related data had been held by the Management Bureau’s Data Division.

The entity that inherited that data was the Association’s Gate Disaster Management Department, where Jung-woo served as department head.

For the sake of future research, they needed to maintain a respectable presence with such an organization.

The professors accepted the matter with precisely that level of consideration.

“Does this mean we’ll get to see Hunter Shin Jung-woo in person? My daughter’s such a fan—I should get an autograph.”

Without the slightest inkling of what was about to unfold.

Jung-woo was spending his days in a flurry of activity.

Establishing the internal structure of his new department was part of it, but more pressing was the preparation for the academic conference he had chosen as his first undertaking.

The work hadn’t grown any harder, though.

He now held an official title. With a chain of command in place, most tasks were resolved at the subordinate level without requiring his direct involvement.

“Ms. Da-ye, is the venue booking for the conference finalized?”

“Yes, there was already one in progress, so I just needed to get the approval reissued. All related documents have been reviewed.”

“Good. Then…”

Da-ye, formerly part of the Countermeasure Bureau’s command staff, had aligned herself with Jung-woo.

The two made an excellent professional partnership.

Naturally—Jung-woo had been a paperwork monster and the Clock-out Fairy since his Countermeasure Bureau days. A simple department transfer wasn’t about to slow him down.

The simple fact that approvals came through on time sent Da-ye’s job satisfaction soaring to all-time highs day after day—a stark contrast to the days of being hounded by Ho-jong.

And so, the conference preparations proceeded without a hitch.

Jung-woo, too, was making thorough preparations of a more personal nature.

‘Let me draft a list of questions.’

Jung-woo had read through the papers in advance.

They represented the most current trends in the field, but there were plenty of angles to probe that would draw blood if he poked at them.

Even during work hours, he continuously scanned newly submitted papers, noting sections that needed correction.

The same held true after hours.

Seated on the living room sofa, he pored over printed papers, his pen gliding across the pages.

That sight produced an unexpected side effect.

Ttiring!

【”Your child’s academic enthusiasm has skyrocketed!” Parents are their children’s mirrors! Studying during breaks was an excellent choice! Your little one is following Daddy’s lead and studying too! [Great Caregiver (8/10)] *Collect stickers to unlock skills!*】

A Quest Stack notification.

The count he had been accumulating through various small daily activities had risen by one more.

Jung-woo’s gaze drifted toward Se-gi.

Se-gi lay on her stomach on the living room floor, a dictation practice book spread open before her as she scrawled Korean characters.

Whenever the child concentrated, her signature duck lips—dubbed “focus mouth”—made their inevitable appearance.

She seemed to be putting in considerable effort, which led Jung-woo to a realization.

‘This is more educational than taking her to a library or somewhere similar.’

To a child, every action a parent takes is something to be absorbed and imitated.

Lacking the capacity to distinguish between good and bad behaviors, the child’s development makes a parent’s conduct all the more critical.

From the moment he recognized his responsibility for his child’s growth and development as a parent, such principles became elements Jung-woo had to keep in mind.

He observed her quietly, filled with a warm sense of satisfaction.

While continuing to review the papers, time slipped away before he knew it.

“Se-gi, shall we go to bed now?”

“Heok! Yeah! Se-gi wrote ten pages of dictation today!”

“Oh my, doesn’t Se-gi’s hand hurt?”

“Yeah!”

The way her eyes sparkled told him everything he needed to know.

This was a moment that called for praise.

“Se-gi, that’s amazing. At this rate, aren’t you going to become a professor?”

“What’s a professor?”

“…An evolved teacher?”

“Heok…! Teachews can evolve too?!”

“Mm-hmm… something like that?”

It was a justification born of the difficulty of explaining the concept in terms a child could easily grasp.

It didn’t seem like the best approach.

Sure enough, the explanation had piqued her interest considerably—the question “why” was already loading in Se-gi’s eyes.

But by now, Jung-woo had grown adept at parenting and knew exactly how to handle Se-gi in moments like these.

“Shall we go to bed? Th-that’s right! Daddy will read you a picture book!”

“Picture books, yay!”

All he had to do was dangle something more exciting in front of her.

Jung-woo had narrowly escaped the crisis.

The picture book lying scattered nearby was, if anything, a lucky break.

He snatched it up and headed to the bedroom, where he read the story aloud.

“Once upon a time…”

Ttiring!

【”Your child fell asleep imagining a wondrous world!” Adventures accompanied by a guardian’s voice bring a sense of security! Well done! (Though some reading practice might be needed!) [Great Caregiver (9/10)] *Collect stickers to unlock skills!*】

Ah, he had never put her to sleep by reading a picture book before.

A fresh realization.

And on top of that,

‘It always says things it doesn’t need to say. This thing.’

This quest system had a real talent for getting under his skin.

Anyway,

‘So there’s only one left.’

He passed the night with that thought in mind.

One day, then another.

Time flowed on until the moment finally arrived.

“I’ll head straight to the conference venue today.”

[Understood.]

The day of the conference had dawned.

The study of gates and magical beasts was inevitably intertwined with hunters.

As a natural consequence, the most prestigious and authoritative event for discussing such matters was the conference hosted by the nation’s hunter-related organization.

The event held today, at the onset of summer, was precisely that.

“Oh, Professor Jin! Long time no see.”

“Haha, I hope you’ve been well too, Professor Park.”

Experts in the field commonly known as Otherworld Studies had gathered from across the country, exchanging greetings at the venue.

The bonds between them ran deep.

After all, it had been thirty years since the dawn of the gate era.

Given the field’s short history, the professors assembled here had originally been physicists who, during the Millennium Shock, had stepped into a new discipline driven purely by a sense of mission.

Though they had never stood on the front lines, they shared their own brand of camaraderie.

“The world certainly changes fast, doesn’t it? Even the conference organizer has changed.”

“It’s a good thing. The corruption rumors had been circulating quietly, hadn’t they? I never imagined it was that bad… but somehow it all worked out in the end.”

Coming so soon after a major incident, the dominant topic of conversation was naturally the Management Bureau’s downfall.

However, true to their nature as scholars, they had another subject that took even higher priority.

“Ah, if I’d known this was coming, I would have prepared a paper on North Korea.”

“To think the Erosion Zone reclamation plan would be announced like this…”

“How many related topics were submitted this time?”

“There was Professor Han from Yeonseo University. Besides her, someone from Korea University…”

The reclamation of North Korea.

It was the first major initiative unveiled alongside the Association’s inauguration.

Even advancing only as far as Pyongyang would yield enough data from that terrain to advance Korean Otherworld Studies several times over. How could they not be interested?

The only regret at this point was that, since the conference had been planned before the corruption scandal broke, the paper topics didn’t align with that particular subject.

Though even that regret was minor.

As was typical of emerging academic fields, trends shifted dramatically, and such mismatches were par for the course.

In any case,

“So, what time is Professor Park’s presentation?”

The conference began in earnest.

Professors who had gathered in small groups moved about busily, selecting presentations that piqued their interest.

It was no illusion that they appeared particularly eager.

Otherworld Studies was a discipline surrounded by countless unknowns yet to be illuminated.

At the same time, it was a field where the arguments presented at each conference offered fresh perspectives, stoking the intellectual satisfaction of its practitioners.

Failing to keep pace with the latest information meant being left behind in the field—a common occurrence—so today was of paramount importance to them.

“Ah, this one. The correlation between population density and gate generation frequency. I came to hear this presentation.”

“Ah, shall we go together? That was a topic I was planning to attend as well.”

The two professors headed to the presentation hall and took their seats in the seminar room.

Professor Han Woo-ri of Yeonseo University.

Given that she was a recognized name in Otherworld Studies, a large audience had already arrived early and claimed seats.

It was then that Professor Park’s eyes went wide upon spotting the person seated in the front row.

“Professor Jin, look. Isn’t that Hunter Shin Jung-woo?”

“Oho? It really is him. I’d heard he might show up, but he’s actually attending in person?”

The professors assumed Jung-woo had come to “observe the conference proceedings.”

Given that his primary profession was that of a field-working hunter, it was an understandable assumption.

How novel.

That was the extent of the impression that arose.

Be that as it may, time passed, the presentation began, and then it ended.

“…And with that, I conclude my presentation. Thank you.”

Jak jak jak jak!

Applause came first.

Professor Han’s presentation offered a fresh perspective, and her logic and evidence were highly credible when evaluated against the information available to date.

Whispers of “as expected of Professor Han” rippled throughout the room.

A composed smile spread across her lips in response.

That was when it happened.

“We’ll now move to the Q&A session. Are there any questions?”

“Yes, may I ask about a part I found difficult to understand?”

Everyone was startled.

“Hunter Shin Jung-woo?”

The person who had raised his hand was Jung-woo.

With a warm, good-natured smile plastered across his face and his hand raised, he radiated the unmistakable air of someone who had “genuinely found the presentation fascinating and had a real question to ask.”

And so, Professor Han Woo-ri, initially taken aback, soon nodded and replied.

“Yes, of course.”

That was the moment it truly began.

“Thank you. First, regarding the gate generation framework shown on page four—I found the logic regarding the structural variation between delta waves and gamma waves somewhat puzzling.”

“Excuse me?”

“You explained that gates follow areas of high population. Indeed, the number of Third gates is overwhelmingly concentrated in major cities. However, the wave patterns you described don’t exclusively appear in densely populated areas, as I understand it. For instance, the Third gate ‘Al Pao’ located in the heart of the Amazon…”

Professor Han Woo-ri’s gaze wavered.

The other professors in attendance were equally flustered.

Jung-woo dismantled Professor Han’s arguments with an unrelenting barrage of expert analysis, and whenever she attempted a rebuttal, he responded in kind.

“Why is that? It may be that my own understanding is insufficient, but from my studies and field experience…”

Why?

Why?

Why?

To put it simply, that was the pattern—repeated over and over.

He drilled down to the root of the root of the root, an unending chain of questions that persisted until he extracted an inexplicable principle from the very bottom.

The problem was that it wasn’t mere stubbornness.

Jung-woo’s counterarguments were, in fact, devastatingly sound.

His knowledge of gates presented novel, well-founded perspectives that even the most distinguished professors in the room had never considered.

The atmosphere shifted entirely.

But it didn’t stop there.

They felt the air being squeezed from their lungs.

“So you see…”

All composure had vanished from Professor Han’s face.

She found herself increasingly forced to offer explanations that bordered on logical leaps.

Cold sweat broke out.

Not just Professor Han, but every single person in the audience.

One by one, they began to realize why.

‘This is…’

‘K-Keuik…!? My graduate school days…!?’

‘Pr-Professor Heo’s question bombs!? The self-logic verification stage!?’

Groans of anguish began to slowly fill the room.

That was right.

Being professors meant they, too, had once been graduate students.

Their diagnosis: sympathetic PTSD.

Jung-woo’s merciless chain of questioning had dragged up memories of that long-forgotten, harrowing period…!

“Mm, I followed that well. Now, I’d like to ask for your further insight on that point. First…”

The moment the question continued, someone mixed a low groan with a desperate cry of “Stop…” but it never reached Jung-woo’s ears.

Professor Han’s eyes had already gone lifeless.

However, the cruel Born S-Rank hunter committed the atrocity of not even allowing her a moment to collapse—lifting her back up only to strike her down again.

Could it be called a mental rejuvenation?

At least they could feel as though they had returned to their forgotten youth—perhaps that was a silver lining.

Moments where thinking of it that way was the only comfort continued without end.

It was after all that.

“Thank you. That concludes my questions.”

“Y-yes, yes…”

“Shall we have the next presenter prepare?”

That day, the professors witnessed a demon.

For some reason, it felt as though a hook-shaped weapon was clutched in his hand.