In Jung-woo’s memory, it was an event from eight years ago—two years into the future from the present.

At the time, the Korean hunter world experienced a massive incident that reshuffled the entire occupational hierarchy.

It began with a whistleblower’s exposé from a public service hunter.

[Don’t become a Management Bureau Hunter. This place is rotten to the core.]

Public service hunters had always been plagued by issues regarding unfair practices.

The Management Bureau had existed since the last day of 1999, when the first gates erupted and the very first hunters awakened on this earth.

Humanity was locked in a war for the survival of the species, making the emergence of groups with military-like hierarchies inevitable. The problem arose when these organizations refused to abandon their archaic structures even after the world stabilized.

The issue wasn’t about money.

While their income was certainly lower than that of corporate hunters, the social prestige of the profession itself ensured they still drew salaries comparable to those of major conglomerates.

Besides, public service hunters were fundamentally driven by a sense of duty; those who joined knowing this had already accepted the financial sacrifice.

However, precisely because they were the type of people to accept such sacrifices, there was one thing they absolutely could not tolerate.

‘It was the first-generation hunters who extended their reach into politics.’

An era of peace had arrived.

In other words, those who had swelled in size and amassed fame out of necessity during the war no longer had opportunities to shine as they once did.

It was a welcome change, but for those intoxicated by the power and glory of being heroes, wasn’t it a rather dull era?

With no further avenues to build their authority, some first-generation hunters began to succumb to greed.

They leaped into the political arena, lusting for power.

That was the beginning of the Management Bureau’s corruption.

‘It was no longer an organization where people sacrificed themselves out of a sense of duty; it had become a stepping stone for political careers.’

Factions formed within.

Hunter-turned-council members began to solidify into cartels, and these factions initiated turf wars within the Bureau.

That was simply the nature of group dynamics.

When a massive current takes over, individuals inevitably get swept away by it.

Rookie hunters, who had grown up watching the backs of the heroes who shone brightest during the war, now had to face the dirty backroom dealings within the Bureau head-on.

Some melted into that atmosphere, some left in disillusionment, and others thrashed about trying to change things, only to be crushed.

The whistleblower was one of the latter.

Jung-woo still remembered.

How relentlessly the facts exposed by that young whistleblower had been attacked that day.

How much sacrifice it had taken to prove those facts and dismantle the Management Bureau.

What Jung-woo was facing right now was the very epicenter of that corruption.

“I will get straight to the point. The nation needs your power, Mr. Shin Jung-woo. Everyone speaks of an era of peace, but the truth is that the threat of gates has not entirely vanished from the world. The reality is that incidents like today’s could happen at any time, anywhere.”

The man who introduced himself as Kim Shin-wook, Director of the Nowon-gu Management Bureau, spoke with a stiff expression.

“I cannot promise you wealth and glory. However, I appeal to your sense of recognition and duty: would you not consider using your power for the greater good?”

A contract was laid out before him.

Jung-woo looked at his face.

His expression displayed a resolute determination, as if fighting for justice and a noble cause, but unfortunately, in reality, it was nothing more than a mask.

‘It was that kind of era.’

An era where one could not rise to the position of a district Management Bureau director in the Seoul metropolitan area with clean hands.

An era where every achievement was inevitably tied to muddy dealings.

It didn’t take much effort to realize that he was no different from the rest.

Jung-woo looked at the contract.

Everything still felt surreal; he wasn’t ready to accept it yet.

However, that did not mean he could afford to make a careless decision swept up by his circumstances.

Jung-woo gently patted the back of Se-gi, who was slowly beginning to doze off.

The weight in his arms was everything Jung-woo had to bear.

He accepted the regression.

He accepted the changes.

If so, what kind of decision should he make, knowing all of this?

What kind of father did he need to be?

As he pondered and reached an answer:

—Is Daddy a hero~? Daddy saved Se-gi, right~?

At the very least, a father who lusted for power while enduring dirty deeds was not the father Se-gi needed.

One lifetime of regret was enough.

“Thank you for the offer.”

Jung-woo replied with a gentle smile.

“However, I must decline.”

Kim Shin-wook, Director of the Nowon-gu Hunter Management Bureau, could sense it immediately.

A twenty-three-year-old unmarried father, an orphan, a naive kid who had just gotten lucky enough to become an S-Rank hunter today.

The fact that such labels were woefully inadequate to describe the man named Shin Jung-woo.

‘What the hell is this kid?’

Up until the moment he arrived here, Shin-wook had been floating on air.

After all, South Korea’s first Born S-Rank hunter had just appeared in his very own district.

He would succeed in scouting him.

He would build a thick rapport with him, lay a trap, and ensure he could never escape.

That was how he would elevate his standing within the party.

It was still a rough plan, but he believed a heaven-sent opportunity had presented itself—one that was entirely feasible if he just ironed out the details.

Yet, as the conversation continued, he began to realize that wasn’t the case.

“Could you please reconsider just once? The nation…”

“I don’t think this is something to decide in a rush. The fact that I’m an S-Rank hunter hasn’t even properly sunk in yet.”

“I understand how you feel. But precisely because of that, I wish to tell you just how much that power is needed. First…”

“This isn’t a topic to make sudden decisions on at this late hour.”

Jung-woo smoothly deflected the difficult topic with a soft tone.

Whenever Shin-wook tried to force the subject, Jung-woo applied wordless pressure.

He was no ordinary kid.

His unflappable composure couldn’t be explained if he were just some ignorant rookie who could be pressured by atmosphere, circumstance, or rank.

Shin-wook felt a surge of anxiety.

He masked it as best as he could and parted his lips to speak.

“Of course, you are an S-Rank, and a Born S-Rank at that. With such power, you could achieve anything you desire. But! I dare to say that there are values in this world far more important than wealth and glory, and the society we have today was built by the heroes of the past who sacrificed themselves for those very values!”

Rhetoric and masks were the greatest weapons that had elevated Shin-wook, a mere B-Rank hunter, to the position of Director.

He knew exactly what topics and expressions to use to persuade a person.

He knew how to package a goal so that it sounded noble and worthwhile.

“The entire nation… no, the world is watching your choice, Mr. Shin Jung-woo. I wish to cautiously say that depending on the choices made by the man who will become the name of a new era, the values of this era itself might change.”

The era demands heroes.

The masses go wild for heroism.

In a time when no one is ignorant of this fact, he had to make that youth realize the weight of what he held in his hands.

So Shin-wook put on his mask.

He hid his true intentions behind his words.

He wanted to crush him with that sense of weight, to make him feel that this single moment’s choice would determine everything.

And he would go one step further.

“I do not expect you to sacrifice without reward. While I cannot make guarantees regarding financial compensation, I can assure you that in all other aspects, the Management Bureau will mobilize every resource to provide national-level treatment that no corporation could ever promise.”

He smeared sweet honey over the concept of responsibility.

However, there was something he missed.

“I decline. I’m sorry.”

Because he had remained a novice, having sacrificed his entire youth out of responsibility toward his child, Jung-woo’s perspective was far broader than that of his peers.

Above all, Jung-woo had never been someone who aspired to be a hero to the masses.

“Hearing you say that only reinforces my belief that this isn’t something to decide lightly right here and now.”

Jung-woo adjusted his hold on Se-gi, who had now fallen fast asleep.

He gazed at her as if handling the most precious treasure in the world.

“I want to be a good father to my child.”

“Then all the more, for your daughter’s sake…!”

“That’s far enough.”

Uttuk!

Shin-wook’s words died in his throat.

A chilling sensation ran down his spine.

He looked at Jung-woo with trembling eyes.

The gentle curve of Jung-woo’s smile faded.

His piercing gaze held not a trace of aggression.

Yet it pressed down on Shin-wook with an emotionlessness that felt almost arrogant.

“Because I don’t believe using my child as a bargaining chip is your role, Director.”

The first outright rejection.

And a warning.

Shin-wook could instantly feel the implications behind those words.

How dare this young punk.

This nobody.

He couldn’t possibly say something like that.

It was the worst-case scenario.

That twenty-three-year-old day-laborer unmarried father already knew that the weight pressing down on his shoulders was a crown—and he was wielding it.

Shin-wook parted his lips.

Before he knew it, his back was drenched in cold sweat—a fact he belatedly realized.

He secretly clenched his teeth.

After that, he barely managed to put on a mask of regret and smiled.

“…I have overstepped. I apologize.”

To that, Jung-woo replied with a gentle, affable smile.

“Thank you for understanding.”

The situation ended there.

Jung-woo stepped out of the Management Bureau.

As soon as he walked through the front gate, he was met with the sight of a massive crowd staring at him under the pitch-black night sky, creating artificial bursts of light.

Was it okay to be happy to see them?

Among the occasionally visible faces were major figures who had left a profound mark on the hunter industry during the ten years Jung-woo had lived, all looking at him with faces much younger than he remembered.

He adjusted Se-gi in his arms.

His heart settled, and instead of seeing human faces, he confronted what those gazes truly desired.

His own confusion didn’t matter.

He had already learned over the past years that the world was not generous enough to wait for his hesitation; it was a place that always forced choices and responsibilities upon him.

South Korea’s first Born S-Rank hunter.

That was how the world viewed Jung-woo.

If so, he simply needed to act accordingly.

He just needed to clearly define what he had to do and how to push forward.

Camera flashes went off like crazy.

Chwa-jwa-jwa-jwa-jwa-jwak—!

“Hunter Shin Jung-woo! From DBS…!”

“This is WBC! Just one word…!”

“Hunter Shin Jung-woo! A brief comment…!”

The crowd shouted as if to chase away the entire neighborhood.

At the commotion, Se-gi groggily tried to open her eyes.

Jung-woo gently patted the back of the child, who was so sleepy she couldn’t even open her eyes properly, and whispered.

“It’s okay, Se-gi. Go back to sleep.”

“Uung…”

He stepped forward, one step at a time.

A path opened up.

There were those trying to approach him, and there were those holding them back to widen the path for him.

The former were desperate, while the latter were greedy yet cautious.

Jung-woo walked in silence.

Just as he was about to completely exit the Management Bureau’s front entrance:

“Have you decided to join the Management Bureau?!”

It was a question from a reporter who had shouted louder and more desperately than anyone else.

Jung-woo turned around.

It was one person’s question, but he could tell everyone wanted the answer.

“I’m sorry, but I declined. Everything still feels surreal, and I didn’t want to make a hasty decision in this state.”

Chwajwajwajwajwak!

The flashes burst again, and another question was thrown his way.

“Could you tell us about your future plans?!”

The answer wasn’t important only to them.

Jung-woo replied.

“I plan to think about it in due time.”

To protect Se-gi.

For the sake of the daily life that would protect her smile.

And what would be necessary to avoid the most tragic ending Jung-woo knew of?

He had pondered this the entire way out here, and at the end of it, he finally realized one thing.

“I want to consider what the best choice is for my daughter.”

First of all, he couldn’t live a life swept away by the current.

If he was the one holding the upper hand in this dynamic, there was no need to bend over and make himself look easy.

Rather, he needed to make it crystal clear to them what was and wasn’t okay to touch.

“From the moment of my awakening until now, and in the future as well. The most important thing to me is protecting the life this child will live. I don’t think that fact will ever change.”

He had thus kept his words brief, for language has a way of taking on a myriad of meanings depending on the subjective interpretation of the listener.

To the viewers—the third parties—his statement was a sign of humility.

However, to the groups that desperately wanted Jung-woo, the meaning was interpreted differently.

At least to them, that was how Jung-woo’s words sounded.

As a demand to bring conditions enticing enough to match their desire to have him.

“Everyone, please get home safely.”

Jung-woo bowed his head and completely exited the Management Bureau.

Until then, no one had chased after him.

Only the noisy sound of camera shutters echoed through the space.

It was the following morning.

[Born S-Rank Confirmed. Hunter Shin Jung-woo states, “I wish to consider my path for my daughter.”]

[A miracle visits a 23-year-old unmarried father. Showing his resolve not to act rashly…]

[Entire Hunter Industry Paralyzed. Scheduled major guild interviews are being postponed one after another…]

His brief remarks were instantly turned into news articles, sending the entire nation into an uproar.