The news Ho-jong brought was the welcome kind.

While Teddy Bear’s evolution required consuming a magic stone, the only S-Rank Special magic Stone belonged to the Three-legged Crow—and Jung-woo had felt guilty about taking it from Sea Otter, who clung to it like a cherished lover.

“Let’s do this, then. Sea Otter keeps the Three-legged Crow’s magic stone, and Teddy Bear gets the new one. What do you think?”

Jung-woo sat Teddy Bear and Sea Otter side by side and attempted to negotiate.

And honestly, the whole scene was rather comical.

Ppok…!

Sea Otter was grumbling and squirming.

The fact that it was willing to part with the Three-legged Crow it had treasured so dearly revealed just how flimsy Sea Otter’s resolve truly was.

“Acting like you’d be together forever.”

Well, if it isn’t the world’s biggest heartbreaker.

But not this time.

“Teddy Bear says it wants the new one.”

Ppok! Ppok!

Teddy Bear’s head bobbed up and down.

Jung-woo found it curious that it would so readily accept the stone without even knowing what effects it held, but he figured if a summon was that certain, there had to be a reason.

Besides, there was something else he could infer from this.

‘Maybe parasites really do rank above S-Rank champions?’

Looking back, the parasite had been different from the very start—even the subjugation alert.

【[Entity: ■■■] subjugated!】

The name was redacted because its language was fundamentally incomprehensible to humans.

After all, the identification names humans assigned were arbitrary labels, not the entities’ actual names.

Even looking at famous S-Rank champion subjugation cases like the Three-legged Crow or Izanami, magical beast names were typically displayed that way.

So it was reasonable to conclude that this parasite’s grade was no lower than a champion’s.

And that wasn’t the only evidence.

‘…From everything I’ve seen of their behavior, parasitism seems to be regarded as a more advanced form of evolution.’

Ultimately, from an ecological perspective, when determining which species was more evolved, one had to side with the parasites.

If nothing else, just look at the Zero Gates—humanity’s greatest despair.

Weren’t the masters of those realms all established in the present world through parasitic forms?

Moreover, Zero Gate domains typically housed five or more S-Rank champions.

Whether they existed in a master-servant relationship or a symbiotic one remained unknown, but the numbers alone pointed to an obvious conclusion.

‘There’s a high probability that a parasite’s magic stone grade far exceeds that of an S-Rank champion.’

Which meant that when it came to how to use the one and only highest-grade magic stone, the answer was Permanent Enhancement.

Risk comes with reward.

It was one of the most fundamental principles of the system, making this a choice calculated for maximum efficiency.

Jung-woo spoke.

“Let’s have Sea Otter yield this time. I’ll give you another magic stone in return.”

Sea Otter sulked for a moment, then hugged the Three-legged Crow’s magic stone tighter and nodded.

Jung-woo couldn’t help but crack a smile.

It felt like raising multiple children.

‘Come to think of it, what exactly are these things?’

They were always by his side, yet Jung-woo still didn’t know the true nature of his summons.

Beyond these dolls, the very concept of summons remained an open question in Otherworld Studies.

In the field, two theories clashed: one claiming summons were otherworldly indigenous creatures at the terminus of the Invasion Species currently invading Earth, and another arguing they were magical beasts controlled by the Hunter System’s power.

Both sounded plausible, but evidence was scarce.

The vast majority of summons possessed only animal-level intelligence, and even those with higher intellect seemed bound by some prohibition, unable to speak on the matter.

‘They probably didn’t always look like this.’

The summon skill [Children Need Heroes!] required [All-Ages Filter] as a prerequisite.

In other words, all of them were under the filter’s influence.

So Jung-woo could only conclude as much.

‘Is the theory about magical beasts controlled by the Hunter System more credible?’

Of course, jumping to conclusions was unwise.

There were quite a few summons that served as exact counterexamples.

‘I don’t know. I’ll figure it out someday.’

Skill ■■■■ was a skill that enabled communication with otherworldly beings.

He had a vague hope that as he developed it further, it might grant access to various pieces of undisclosed information along the way.

The skill’s sequential unlock condition was to expand Se-gi’s World.

At least, that was what Jung-woo thought.

‘The severe backlash, the garbled text preventing proper activation—no matter how I look at it, it all seems to be because the unlock is incomplete.’

By developing it gradually, he would eventually close in on the secret.

Jung-woo gathered his scattered thoughts.

“Anyway, that’s settled. And Se-gi? Should we turn off the TV now?”

“Ung?”

“It’s dinnertime.”

“Gasp! Already!”

Se-gi, whose attention had been anchored to Biniping, was still thoroughly spellbound.

‘Terrifying. Biniping is terrifying.’

Just how thoroughly did the people making children’s shows understand the human dopamine system?

A newfound sense of dread crept over him.

The sheer magnitude of the incident meant that news of Pyongyang’s reclamation never quite faded away.

But as the swirling rumors eventually settled on the development potential of the reclaimed city, at least some of the attention directed at Jung-woo began to wane.

In other words, it was the perfect time to be discharged.

‘This was supposed to be a rest, but I feel more exhausted.’

Probably because so much had happened.

Changes in his abilities, matters concerning the parasite, Jun-ho’s return, and the broader external situation.

As someone overseeing an entire department within the Association, there had been a mountain of paperwork to process.

In reality, only his work environment had changed—it was hard to call it a break by any stretch.

Regardless, discharge was discharge.

Returning to everyday life felt quite welcome, and Se-gi was absolutely thrilled.

“Daddy, you’re not sick anymore?”

“Yep, Daddy’s all better now. I can even lift you with one hand.”

“Gasp! Up high!?”

“Should I? Up high~”

“Kkyaha!”

Wrapping his arms around her waist and swinging her back and forth, Jung-woo watched Se-gi kick her legs in delight.

How much emotional turmoil must she have endured?

While he remained unconscious, she had struggled to fend off nurses coming with syringes, insisting her daddy couldn’t be sick. Even after he woke, being confined to the hospital must have made her worry he was still ailing, prompting her to check on his health at every opportunity.

That devotion touched him deeply.

With a warm smile, they stepped out of the hospital together, and a biting winter wind brushed their faces.

It was fully winter now.

“It’s really cold, isn’t it?”

“Ung! They said it’ll snow soon!”

Se-gi beamed, the fur-lined hood of her jacket pulled up and the tip of her nose flushed red.

That face, brimming with anticipation, was a joy to behold.

Watching her, something came to mind.

“Christmas is coming up soon too, huh?”

“Ung! Will Santa Grandpa come again this year~?”

He hadn’t always been able to spend the day with her, but Jung-woo had never missed giving her a gift.

Because Se-gi’s Christmas was a little more special.

“Of course. Se-gi’s birthday is on Christmas, so Santa Grandpa takes care of you first.”

“Ung! Se-gi is a good kid! Birthday Christmas~!”

December 25th, Christmas Day.

The day this child came into the world like a gift herself.

With two major occasions overlapping, of course he had to make it special.

He had always done so, but after his regression, he noticed a difference in how she responded.

“Se-gi’s birthday~ and Christmas~ are two holidays, so I should get two presents!”

“Wow, you know the word ‘holiday’?”

“Ung! I learned it in dictation practice! Anyway, two presents!”

Back when he was consumed by work, Se-gi had never made such demands first.

Especially this year, when she turned five. From the time he awakened as a hunter in the spring and was busy acclimating to fieldwork, she had rarely spoken up about anything on her own.

This tiny child had learned to be considerate far too early.

No—even calling it “consideration” felt like a joke.

‘She was probably scared. Thinking that if she was a nuisance, he’d resent her. She might have had thoughts like that.’

That was how withdrawn she had been.

Seeing her beaming smile anew, it tugged at something deep in his chest, and Jung-woo pulled Se-gi even tighter against him.

Never again would he let that happen.

Renewing that vow, he said playfully:

“But it might just be one present.”

“Why, why!?”

“I heard from Aunt Hae-seo that you cried in front of the nurse aunties while your daddy was sleeping.”

“N-no…? Se-gi is a good kid so she never cried once…?”

Perhaps her conscience pricked at the attempt to lie.

Se-gi averted her eyes and stammered.

Jung-woo chuckled and played along.

“Right? Those nurse aunties must have been lying. You scared Daddy. Let’s go home now. Phew, what a relief~”

“Uung…”

And so the conversation on the way home ended.

…Or so he thought, but that night after returning home, another incident erupted.

“Daddy…”

“Hm? Se-gi. Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Kkeuhing…!”

“Hm? Why are you crying?”

“Actually Se-gi lied! She told a lie! Heoeoeoeong!!!”

The conscientious child Shin Se-gi.

It must have gnawed at her that she had made Hae-seo out to be a liar, because she had fretted all day before finally making her confession at bedtime and bursting into wailing sobs.

He needed to soothe the child immediately, but the sight was so endearingly funny that Jung-woo burst out laughing instead.

It was only after about four rounds of snot bubbles popped that he managed to calm her down.

“You told the truth, so Santa Grandpa will forgive you too. Let’s stop crying now.”

“Really?”

“Yep, really. Daddy will make sure to tell him you want two presents.”

“Ung…! Se-gi wants…! Biniping and…! Rabbit Captain slippers and…! Se-gi wants both…!”

“Good job, Se-gi. That was brave of you to be honest. Shall we go to sleep now?”

“Ung…!”

Ttiring!

【”A child who reflects on their own mistakes is a wonderful child!” The child has learned the importance of a sincere apology! [Great Caregiver (7/10)] *Collect stickers to unlock skills!*】

Truly, it was an adorable night.

In the first week of December, Jung-woo ended his hospitalization and returned to work.

When he commuted via Phase Shift as usual, the staff members he hadn’t seen in a while greeted him with startled delight.

“Chief!”

“You’re back!”

“Good to see everyone. From how enthusiastically you’re welcoming me, I’m guessing the approvals piled up?”

“Spot on! Please take care of these for me!”

Da-ye thrust a stack of documents at him with an expression that suggested she might keel over at any second.

‘Ah, so this is what coming to work feels like.’

Reality settled back in.

He began reviewing the paperwork as a gesture of apology to Da-ye, who must have been drowning in the flood of work that should have been his.

Between sorting and approving documents in a frenzy, the entire morning slipped away.

Even so, the work showed no sign of ending.

During his hospitalization, the reclamation from Hwanghae Province to Pyongyang had progressed steadily, and soil purification was now on track, with construction projects being prepared from the southern end upward.

With Soon-ae’s Wooden Palisade cleared and corporations moving in, there was a great deal that required his department’s involvement.

‘I thought another department would handle this…’

From the very beginning of the North Korean reclamation, there had been a promise made to the guilds.

An easing of gate density regulations applied to North Korean territory.

Actually implementing that meant facility safety standards, density grade assessments, and similar workloads all landed on the Disaster Management Department’s desk.

Of course, he wasn’t entirely without a plan, so he flagged only the items requiring coordination and submitted them as agenda items.

It was right around then that he reached the Association Chairman’s office.

“Jung-woo, you’re here? Take this first.”

“What’s with the tofu?”

“You were discharged.”

“Right, discharged from a hospital, not released from prison.”

“You were locked up and came out—same difference. That’s why I had it prepared fried.”

There it was—fried tofu.

Jung-woo let out a wry chuckle, wondering when on earth she’d found the time to prepare this, and handed over the documents.

“Please process this one quickly. I’m busy at year-end.”

“Already thinking about taking vacation the moment you’re discharged?”

“I have five days of leave left. Five days in December—that means I’ve been saving up pretty diligently, don’t you think?”

“You know the Association has only existed for half a year, right?”

“That’s still the annual average.”

“You’ve used more than the average.”

“Don’t be so strict about it.”

As he spoke, Jung-woo flagged the most urgent agenda items from the top of the stack.

But there really did seem to be an awful lot of work.

Ho-jong spoke up.

“Jung-woo, there’s something you need to do before any of that.”

“Something I need to do?”

“What a question from a young man these days. Unfortunately, it’s something only you can do.”

“Christmas is seriously off the table.”

“It doesn’t go that far, so don’t worry.”

The fact that he was pressing this hard meant it was truly unavoidable.

It was immediate.

Jung-woo looked at the documents Ho-jong handed him and understood the reason.

“…A VIP guest is coming.”

“Familiar, isn’t it?”

“It’s hard not to be.”

The documents contained the itinerary for a foreign VIP’s visit to Korea.

“The Savior wants to meet with me?”

“He was even making overtures on social media, so it’s hardly news.”

The strongest hunter of humanity, the Savior Edmond Richmond, was coming to Korea.