It was the very next day after Jung-woo returned from the academic seminar with Ho-jong.

Kwon-seung, the only S-Rank hunter who had remained in North Korea, reported his observations from Pyongyang.

The emergence of a new S-Rank Champion entity.

Its identity was presumed to be Chun Jun-ho, the First Bureau Chief of the Management Bureau, who had gone missing in North Korea fifteen years ago.

Due to the gravity of the matter, there was no public announcement.

Only the S-ranks who would participate in the subjugation and a few high-ranking A-Rank hunters slated for support roles were briefed, summoned to the main headquarters of the Korean Hunter Association in Seoul.

Even then, the vast majority remained in a state of confusion.

No one wanted to believe the truth.

Jung-woo was no exception.

“Hunter Shin Jung-woo.”

“Ah, Miss Hae-seo.”

They were on their way to the conference room.

Jung-woo met Hae-seo, who had been waiting in front of his department.

The shadows under her eyes were slightly darkened.

Considering why she was in this building, it couldn’t simply be dismissed as ordinary fatigue.

This was about the magical beastification of the hero Chun Jun-ho.

Not merely demonification, but actual magical beastification.

Even though their active periods hadn’t overlapped, both Jung-woo and Hae-seo were from the generation that grew up watching his back.

In Jung-woo’s generation, if you asked children to name a great hero, a protector of the people, a hundred out of a hundred would say Chun Jun-ho; such was his immense stature.

Hae-seo, being of the same generation, likely had just as much on her mind.

Jung-woo smiled bitterly.

“Shall we go? To the conference room.”

“Yes.”

They walked down the corridor together.

In the silence where only the sound of their dress shoes echoed, Hae-seo was the first to speak.

“When did you find out? About this information.”

“Through the Association Chairman. He already knew. Ever since he saw the scar on the Three-legged Crow’s belly.”

“…They were beyond close confidants; they were practically sworn brothers.”

“Yes, when I first heard it, I couldn’t for the life of me think of what to say…”

That day, he hadn’t been able to discuss the topic further with Ho-jong.

While he was still gathering his thoughts, Kwon-seung’s report had come flying in, leading to this situation.

Hae-seo replied.

“It probably isn’t just the Chairman. That’s the feeling I get.”

“I suppose so. She may not be able to attend, but the Old Lady, as well as Hunter Ha Kwon-seung, are hunters who lived through the same era.”

“Hunter Park Tae-woon is the same. Did you know? When that guy first became a hunter, he applied for the First Bureau Chief’s direct command squad under the Management Bureau and got rejected.”

“…Did that happen?”

“He was someone with that kind of charisma. Made you want to follow him without even realizing it. Me included.”

It wasn’t simply the tone of someone describing a great figure of their era.

“…He treated me well since I was young. We somehow had a connection.”

Only then did Jung-woo recall a certain fact.

‘Did they call it a hunter dynasty?’

Hae-seo’s family—from her father to her older sisters, and even her brothers-in-law—were all part of the hunter industry.

While detailed information was strictly controlled by her side, he had heard that those close to her quietly knew her family were influential figures in the industry.

“He was an immature man. Should I say he was like the protagonist of a kids’ action show?”

At that moment, a faint smile appeared on Hae-seo’s lips.

She rarely smiled.

That smile spoke volumes about how wonderful a person he was in her memories.

Because Chun Jun-ho was that kind of person, they couldn’t bring themselves to say it out loud.

The fact that we had to subjugate him.

Dalkak!

They arrived at the conference room and opened the door.

Seated around the circular table were Kwon-seung, Tae-woon, Geun-ho, and several top executives from the Three Great Guilds.

A heavy silence drifted among them.

The atmosphere was reminiscent of a funeral.

Jung-woo gave a brief bow, walked to the podium, and plugged a USB drive into the laptop.

The beam projector cast the data onto the wall.

Page one: the title section.

[Overview of the Pyongyang Retaking Operation]

At that starkly worded sentence, Tae-woon let out a hollow mutter.

“…Damn, it feels too real. Shit.”

Kwon-seung, who would normally have reprimanded him, kept his eyes closed.

Jung-woo also stepped back without starting the presentation.

Someone else was to lead today’s meeting.

Clack, clack.

A slow, deliberate sound of dress shoes echoed from the hallway.

Eventually, the person opening the conference room doors and stepping inside was a middle-aged professional, worn down by fatigue.

However, if there was anything different from how Jung-woo and the others remembered him, it was that he was wearing a particularly well-pressed black suit today. His shave was immaculate, and his posture was uncharacteristically straight.

“Sorry I’m late. I was finishing up some work Mr. Shin Jung-woo here squeezed onto my plate.”

Ho-jong rambled playfully as he took the presenter’s spot.

Even then, the hunters couldn’t open their mouths.

Because they knew full well that no one’s heart would be more devastated by this news than his.

Ho-jong was the one who had cherished Jun-ho so deeply that he had spent a third of his life in humiliation, solely for the sake of avenging him.

That man finally opened his mouth.

“Let’s begin.”

Ho-jong slowly turned his gaze to the screen.

“The new S-Rank Champion of Pyongyang. …This is a subjugation meeting for my damn brother.”

It wouldn’t be a mistake.

That his voice had been laced with a tremor.

The meeting proceeded in a quiet atmosphere.

No one had any questions regarding how it would unfold.

Simply put, there was nothing to question.

Given the task of reclaiming North Korea, Pyongyang was a wall that absolutely had to be breached.

The only problem was that Chun Jun-ho had entrenched himself there.

“…Reclamation of the southern provinces is nearing completion. We’ve also carved out a route in the northern provinces, so we just need to expand from there. We should be able to start the operation in a month.”

He reported the reclamation progress in Hwanghae Province.

Following that, the screen displayed Pyongyang.

A collective groan filled the room.

It was an image directly transcribed from what Kwon-seung had perceived using his Wonyoungsin.

A throne of ashes, and a humanoid figure wreathed in a dark aura.

“…Can we really determine that it’s the Bureau Chief based solely on that?”

Tae-woon spoke as if chewing on his words.

But it was a meaningless denial.

“I know. It’s my brother.”

“But…”

“Mr. Park Tae-woon, I am Jin Ho-jong. The man who was by Hunter Chun Jun-ho’s side for every single one of his hunter activities. The man who analyzed his abilities even harder than he did himself.”

“…”

“It’s my brother. As far as I know, no one else but him can wield that wretched storm.”

That rambling felt incredibly painful.

Ho-jong closed his eyes quietly.

“Truthfully, what important role could I even play in a subjugation? We have our Jung-woo here, not to mention old man Kwon-seung, Mr. Tae-woon, Hunter Jin Hae-seo, and the Old Lady. This is the domain of our S-ranks. But me, not knowing my place and leading this meeting, isn’t without reason.”

“Speak.”

“May I ask two things of you?”

The silence was an affirmation.

Ho-jong took it as such and spoke.

“Reclaiming Pyongyang is a great achievement. I know that well. I know how much social benefit that will bring. But, simply put. If the one residing there is my brother.”

Ho-jong bowed his head deeply.

It was a gesture asking for understanding.

“I would like to request a private subjugation.”

“…”

“I’ve thought about it time and time again. Would my brother want that? Would he want people to know that he went to North Korea and turned into a monster? The more I thought about it, the more I realized the answer was no.”

The corners of Ho-jong’s mouth struggled upward.

“That man has to die as a hero. He’s the last person who would want his name to become a symbol of tragedy. He was so immature, a man who only chased after ideals. He dedicated his entire life to that.”

Under normal circumstances, it would have been an absurd proposal.

Beyond the fact that it was an S-Rank Champion subjugation, the data value of his erosion was immense.

Ho-jong knew that too.

That was why he proposed reasonable conditions rather than simply throwing a tantrum.

“Research on hunter erosion will naturally proceed. However, I want it kept strictly classified. So that the name Chun Jun-ho is never mentioned. Just enough so that the public can still remember him as a hero.”

Ho-jong couldn’t bring himself to lift his head for a while.

That was how desperate he was.

No one would have allowed it.

Except for one thing—if the subjugation target hadn’t been Chun Jun-ho.

“Jin Ho-jong, lift your head. Don’t bow for something so natural.”

Kwon-seung said.

Then Tae-woon chimed in.

“You’re not the only one who respects the Bureau Chief. It’s not even worth discussing.”

Hae-seo didn’t speak either, but her expression signaled her agreement.

The others were the same.

“Chun Jun-ho is a symbol. It’s his achievements that made us heroes.”

“If even a symbol crumbles, the citizens’ faith in their safety will waver. This time, a private subjugation is the greater cause.”

“Lift your head, Mr. Chairman. You don’t need to show off that lush crown of yours to make your point. It’s not like we’re jealous of your hair loss.”

They chimed in one by one.

They could do so because they all shared the same sentiment.

From the moment they arrived here, no, from the moment they first heard the news from Pyongyang, it had been an obvious conclusion.

“Let’s do a private subjugation.”

Only then did Ho-jong lift his head.

It was an uncharacteristically emotional expression for him.

“Thank you.”

Perhaps the embarrassing atmosphere had become too awkward.

Tae-woon spoke.

“So, what’s the second thing? That favor you mentioned.”

To which Ho-jong replied.

“I will participate in the vanguard for this subjugation.”

“Wait, what kind of nonsense is that? A private subjugation is one thing, but that’s just suicide…”

“I’m not speaking emotionally.”

At that moment, the S-ranks in attendance stiffened.

Only they understood what he had just said.

Ho-jong looked at them and spoke.

“Yes, that’s how it is.”

Ho-jong’s gaze drifted somewhere into the empty air.

【S-Rank Promotion Quest in progress.】

It was ironic to him.

The fact that this window had only appeared now, when he had to kill him, despite never showing up when he needed to help Jun-ho.

The meeting was over.

While it was closer to a contingency meeting where nothing concrete about the exact subjugation process was decided, it was a gathering that firmly established the participants and the operational guidelines.

It was a battle where Ho-jong would participate on the front lines.

It would be conducted privately, and until the very moment the subjugation ended—and even afterward—the public would know nothing about the S-Rank Champion in Pyongyang.

Thus, this subjugation would be endlessly akin to a funeral.

Late that evening, Jung-woo fell into thought as he stroked the head of Se-gi, who was sleeping spread-eagle on the bed.

His gaze was fixed on the USB drive in his hand.

—Jung-woo, take this.

—What is it?

—It’s the analytical data I want to ask you to look into before the subjugation.

Ho-jong had said as he handed it over.

—Take command. I won’t be composed enough to do it. And I trust your analytical skills. You need to take the reins.

Jung-woo had received command of the operation.

As relevant data, he had been handed Jun-ho’s combat data from when he was alive.

The fall of a hero.

A subjugation that the person closest to him had to personally carry out.

Everything was so relentlessly bitter that it left him deep in thought.

But at the same time, there was a reason he had no choice but to immerse himself deeply in this cause and effect.

Jung-woo stared at Se-gi.

He understood the despair of having what you cherish most become a host to otherworldly erosion.

He understood the resolve to end that life rather than let the tragedy continue.

Knowing that feeling of not being able to stand by and do nothing even if it meant dying, Jung-woo couldn’t stop Ho-jong.

Because he was Jung-woo, and no one else, he had no choice but to support him from behind rather than block his way out of worry.

Why do hunters become hosts for otherworldly intelligences?

Is there no way to prevent it? No way to reverse it?

Personally, he had far too many questions.

But he didn’t want to obsess over them and turn a blind eye to these emotions.

Wouldn’t that be inhuman?

Isn’t there a duty that humans must fulfill as humans?

Jung-woo quietly slipped out of Se-gi’s bedroom.

Then he turned on his laptop and plugged in the USB drive.

A file popped up.

They were video files, all with dates stamped as their titles.

Jung-woo clicked on the oldest video.

Then, Chun Jun-ho’s face appeared on the screen.

And a familiar voice rang out.

[Brother, stop looking over here and go hunt some magical beasts.]

[Hahaha! Ho-jong, you’re filming me properly, right? Does the camera capture my good looks!?]

[Is that important?]

[It is important, you punk! Later, when I get old, I have to edit these videos and make a movie out of them!]

[Good grief, this immature man…]

Ho-jong’s exasperated voice and Jun-ho’s energetic voice.

Once, there were people who shone brighter than anyone because they believed in a peaceful future without a doubt.

[Then, let the recording begin!]

He turned around.

The wind wrapped around him, making his clothes flutter.

[Watch closely! Aptitude, Storm Lord! Technique name, Chun Jun-ho’s Storm Style! It’s the secret technique that will save the nation—!]

[…Are you an elementary schooler?]

[Hahahaha!!!]

He charged into the pack of magical beasts.

A tornado erupted with a single gesture.

A single punch overturned the earth, and a kick tore through the air.

In every single one of those moments, Chun Jun-ho was smiling more radiantly than anyone.

That smile etched itself into Jung-woo’s retinas.

A star that has reached the end of its lifespan falls, burning itself to disappear, and is called a meteor.

The death of a star is in itself a tragedy that marks the end of an era.

But the process of burning is undoubtedly beautiful.

So before the star fails to burn completely, before it touches the ground and becomes a disaster, let no one know that it was once a destructive tragedy.

Let it remain only as a light that leaves behind a beautiful trail.

Just as he said, so that this video could become the key to saving the nation.

Knowing that was his role, Jung-woo erased his emotions.

‘Analyze.’

He had to uncover everything.

To reinforce the data on how the hero named Chun Jun-ho fought, even just a little bit more.

At that moment, with a sigh, the young Ho-jong from thirty years ago spoke.

[First record, output data is…]

The night deepened.

There was one month left until the subjugation operation.