It happened again.

The moment [Quest: Se-gi’s World] intertwined, the message [Connecting to the world.] appeared.

This time, it was a little more overt.

‘Review, rejection.’

The keywords carried implications.

As expected, the Hunter System appeared to be something closer to a transcendent will rather than a natural phenomenon.

However, it didn’t seem to be a perfect master that controlled everything.

From what happened during the lockdown of ■■■■ to things like re-examination and rejection.

That was why there were so many instances where one could feel the skill clashing with the system.

‘What could it be?’

Where did this Hunter System come from, and what did it exist and grow for?

There were too many puzzling aspects about his own abilities, so these were things he couldn’t help but pay attention to.

But pondering wouldn’t yield an answer.

Besides, if he kept moving forward like this, clues would naturally be dropped as they were now.

He brushed aside his thoughts and returned to the hotel.

Ho-jong welcomed Jung-woo.

“Did you calm down your Rudolph friend?”

“She fell asleep together with Se-gi. She seemed really exhausted.”

“What, so you’re sleeping with me tonight?”

“Looks like it.”

Ho-jong smacked his lips, then threw on his coat.

“Then let’s go grab a beer. I skipped dinner too.”

“You’re awfully carefree.”

Saying so, Jung-woo also got dressed.

With so much having happened in a single day, he needed a moment to relax and unwind.

The downtown area on Christmas Eve was bathed in colorful lights.

With snow falling and Christmas trees decorated everywhere, it had the full ambiance of the holiday.

“And here I am, having to walk through this with a dark-faced man.”

“And I’m walking with an old man. How unnecessarily lonely.”

Between happy young couples, a young man in a suit and a middle-aged one walked side by side.

Trading quips, they slipped into a quiet corner shop and ordered skewers and beer.

In a way, one could say the two of them also contributed to the Christmas atmosphere.

After entering the shop and downing a refreshing gulp of beer, Ho-jong spoke.

“Anyway, you did good work. Jung-woo.”

“Now you tell me?”

“Well, better late than never, right?”

He picked up a grilled heart skewer, sniffed it, and continued.

“It’s a truly rotten world, isn’t it? No one finds it strange that a nation’s survival rests on a child’s shoulders.”

He was talking about Hikaru.

The inscrutable expression was typical of Ho-jong, but Jung-woo now understood it was an expression of bitterness.

“It is rotten. Just as you say, Mr. Chairman.”

“A nation must weigh its options. One person’s happiness, the safety of all its citizens. It’s simply one answer to that choice.”

“I think the method was wrong.”

“Not everyone picks the right answer. They chose the wrong one, but thanks to that, they took the easy route and everyone except your Rudolph friend lived with their safety guaranteed.”

As he said, Hikaru would ultimately end up in a vegetative state after a suicide attempt, but the Japanese citizens would gain an eternally protected Osaka.

The nation had arrived at the conclusion with the least loss.

Their choice was truly inhumane, and rational.

“It could happen anywhere. Korea is just the unusual one.”

“…Because there were superhumans.”

“There was my brother. When everything was collapsing in his absence, you appeared, Jung-woo.”

“Even without me, things would have worked out somehow.”

“It wouldn’t have been as perfect as it is now.”

As they talked, Ho-jong ordered five more skewers in clumsy Japanese.

Encountering foreign big-eater customers on Christmas, the shopkeeper beamed with delight as he took the order.

Ho-jong said.

“From here on, it’s your choice, Jung-woo. Whether you publicly condemn the Japanese government, extract Hikaru from Japan, or simply turn a blind eye and leave.”

“None of those three are choices I’m happy with.”

“They’re just examples. You should go with what you think is right.”

“Are you supporting me?”

“I’m cheering you on.”

A grilled thigh skewer was set before Ho-jong.

Ho-jong smacked his lips, picked it up, and said.

“I trust you, Jung-woo. Because you understand attachment.”

“That story again.”

“Because to me, it’s the most perfect answer. A hero with a heroic heart.”

Whenever he said something this embarrassing, it made Jung-woo want to be mischievous.

“Leaving you in Japan and bringing Miss Ichijomodori back might not be so bad either.”

“Don’t do that. I can’t live without kimchi and soju.”

Ho-jong raised his beer glass.

Jung-woo, grinning foolishly, clinked his glass against his and said.

“I want to let her choose for herself. Because that child has probably never chosen anything on her own.”

“Whatever it may be.”

Clink—the sound echoed quietly in the stillness.

Hikaru opened her eyes to a late morning.

Her head throbbed dully, so it wasn’t exactly a refreshing morning.

But her body felt wonderfully warm.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept through without waking even once.

‘This place…’

An unfamiliar room.

In her arms, Se-gi breathed softly and rhythmically in her sleep.

Why were they sleeping together?

She puzzled over it before finally recalling the events of the previous night.

‘Ugh…!’

Hwak—!

Her face flushed red and the fine hairs on her arms stood on end.

Only now did the reality of what she had done truly sink in.

She had lost her composure and run away.

Then her ability went out of control and nearly caused a disaster, and she had bawled her eyes out in front of Jung-woo.

And after that?

She had fallen asleep on his back, practically collapsing into slumber.

‘A burden from start to finish—a burden, a burden, a burden…’

A pitiful expression spread across Hikaru’s face.

She wondered how she could possibly face Jung-woo.

Yet amid all that, there was something curious.

She felt purely embarrassed, but the sense that something would go wrong because of this never crossed her mind.

Hikaru could find the answer herself.

Probably because she knew Jung-woo was that kind of warm person.

It was a peculiar feeling.

She lost herself in thought, gazing at Se-gi’s sleeping face.

She had to take responsibility.

For Hikaru, who had always lived burdened by that thought, Jung-woo was the first person to tell her she didn’t have to.

Someone to rely on. An adult.

She had heard he was only five years older than her.

Yet the fact that such a small age gap could create such a vast emotional distance was wondrous, and it was remarkable how much comfort she had drawn from just a few of his words.

The drowsiness gradually faded, replaced by a sensation of her heart being filled.

It was embarrassing and ticklish.

She carefully rose from the bed.

Seeing the child who had smiled and comforted her so sweetly the night before sleeping peacefully warmed her heart once more.

Hikaru smiled brightly, then stood before the bathroom mirror to wash her face.

Around then, a shiver ran through her body.

“Ugh…”

Her eyes were puffy and swollen.

How could she face anyone with this face?

Just thinking about it made her want to die of embarrassment.

Jung-woo met Hikaru again a little past ten.

After he had finished showering and changed clothes.

Ho-jong was still sleeping like the dead, and when he knocked on the room to pick up Se-gi, she was the one who answered.

“Ah, did you sleep well?”

When he asked, Hikaru mumbled with her head bowed.

“Y-yes… I was truly inexcusable last night…”

Even the tips of her ears were red, and she seemed completely at a loss.

She was subtly covering her eyes with her hair, and he belatedly realized it was to hide her swollen eyes.

She was at an age where appearances mattered deeply, after all.

It was only natural.

Still, the fragility from the night before seemed to have faded, which was a relief.

He thought so and said.

“Give me a moment, I’ll bring Se-gi out first.”

“Ah, y-yes…”

When he woke Se-gi, the first person she looked for was Hikaru.

“Where’s Big Sister?”

“Over there.”

Jung-woo felt a twinge of jealousy.

He was her father, always her number one, but whenever Hikaru was around, he felt that position was in jeopardy.

“Shall we wash up and go eat?”

“Mmm… Big Sister too?”

“Yeah… Big Sister too.”

He recalled what Ho-jong, thoroughly drunk the night before, had said.

—Jung-woo, being the best dad is also just a fleeting moment. She’ll hit puberty, you know? She’ll say you’re uncool and throw absolute tantrums…

—No way.

—You’d think not, right? I told you I have three daughters. All three were exactly the same.

—Liar.

Surely not.

Se-gi wouldn’t do that.

He pushed away the sliver of anxiety that had risen within him.

There was no reason to trust the words of a drunk old man.

“Alright, Se-gi, hmph!”

“Hmph!”

He had her wash her face and brush her teeth.

Washing her hair would have to wait until they got back.

After that, they headed to the restaurant.

Hikaru was with them too.

On the way to the restaurant and even after, she kept apologizing over and over, which was both pitiful and amusing.

“I told you it’s fine. It’s really nothing.”

“But still…”

“Shall we eat first? If you keep apologizing to me like that, people around us will think it’s strange.”

“Ah, sorry…!”

“Stop.”

“…Yes, sir!”

There were quite a few other guests at the hotel.

When he was walking around with Ho-jong, few people recognized them since they were foreigners, but Hikaru’s case was different.

Quite a few people kept glancing their way because she was with them, and beyond that, there were occasionally those trying to gauge the situation out of curiosity.

Jung-woo didn’t mind.

But Hikaru was someone who cared deeply about such things, wasn’t she?

Only then did she pick up her spoon, and it was oddly heartrending to watch.

Because worry was written across her face.

With nothing cleanly resolved, it was understandable.

‘Really…’

A child whose life as a guardian had been decided from birth.

Unless she left Japan forever, that couldn’t be changed.

Because the world, in its truly rotten way, had more things you couldn’t change by your own power than things you could.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t choose how to live within the circumstances she was given.

Even if not grand in scale, there was help that could be offered out of goodwill.

By some unexpected turn, such a method had fallen into Jung-woo’s hands.

“Ah, about your ability.”

Hikaru flinched.

A brief shadow passed across her face.

At least, that was how it looked to Jung-woo.

That gloomy disposition, that fallen self-esteem.

In the end, it was all something close to a backlash from being unable to control her ability.

So he said.

“I think I might know how to control it.”

“What!?”

It was the loudest he had ever heard from her.

All eyes in the vicinity converged on them, and Hikaru belatedly flushed crimson and shrank into herself.

But the fervor in her eyes did not diminish.

Even with her shoulders hunched and cowering like that, the intensity in her gaze could only be described as desperate.

For some reason feeling awkward, Jung-woo smiled faintly and asked.

“May I help you?”

Hikaru answered in a trembling voice.

“Yes, please, if it’s possible, I beg you…!”

It was an answer without a second’s hesitation.

During the remaining Christmas holiday, he spent time with Se-gi.

It was a promise to the child, and also a commitment he had made to himself.

But the rest ended with that one day.

After that, it was time to ramp up the tension again.

‘Time to get started.’

Jormungandr had crossed more than half the Pacific Ocean.

Extrapolating from its current speed, the estimated date of landfall in Japan was December 30th.

The current date was December 26th.

Four days remained.

Since putting Se-gi to bed the previous night, Jung-woo had been receiving data collected by Japan and cross-referencing it with his own information.

He verified and deliberated on every possible method one by one, and also reflected on the weapons he had acquired.

A new summon.

And a skill whose review was still pending.

The various concerns that arose among them.

And finally.

“I’m counting on you…!”

Ichijomodori Hikaru.

Japan’s strongest, the most perfect shield in existence—he had to complete that first.

Jung-woo said with a smile.

“First time in a Japanese training room.”

Jung-woo had come to a training room provided by the Japanese government.

The interior was a well-organized steel chamber.

Naturally, it wasn’t an ordinary room.

It was a training room made of steel with the highest mana absorption rate among existing gate materials, and it was also a room with multiple layers of security to ensure that any physical force generated inside would not affect the outside.

It occurred to him in hindsight, but this too was a rather flimsy countermeasure.

‘The Sea Otter could bring this down on its own.’

No need to even bring out the Severance Sword.

A single standard barrage from Teddy Bear would be enough to punch a hole through it, and even before that, the Sea Otter could escape this sealed room just by using a few A-Rank Special magic Stones.

It wasn’t that they lacked technical capability.

Japan simply had no need to build a training room beyond this level.

After all, their only out-of-specification hunter, Ichijomodori Hikaru, was a defense-type ability user.

For anyone else, even A-Rank hunters, it was an environment where growth beyond a certain level was impossible.

It was a breeding ground that demonstrated how fear of gates had castrated the nation’s defensive capabilities.

His thoughts darted in various directions, but he set them aside for now.

Because that wasn’t what was important.

“Um, what should I do from here?”

Hikaru had her hair tied up in the back.

Perhaps reflecting the awareness that this was training, she wore athletic clothes instead of her usual school uniform.

Her demeanor was intensely enthusiastic.

She looked like someone who was fully resolved.

An ability that couldn’t be controlled, making it impossible to utilize properly in subjugation.

But Hikaru’s Eternal Imprisonment, judged solely by its peak performance, possessed an absurdity worthy of Ex-rank.

Physical cessation of a specific space.

Interference with life activities, and cognitive interference.

Those were the abilities guaranteed by the domain itself.

Even in terms of scale, the ability unleashed recklessly was large enough to blanket an entire mountain.

Let me tell you about the difference in subjugation success rate with and without it.

“Based on the operation I’ve conceived so far, the subjugation success rate is roughly between 83 and 86 percent.”

“Y-yes, sir…!”

“If you succeed in controlling your ability, Miss Ichijomodori, that would add another 10 percent.”

Hikaru gulped down a dry swallow.

As anxiety threatened to surge across her face again, he added with a smile.

“So, within two days, we’ll bring your ability under control. There won’t be time to rest.”

He had no intention of pushing some grandiose pep talk about willpower.

In the first place, Jung-woo was someone who deeply despised unfounded conviction.

So whether Hikaru could control her ability was a conclusion to be reached through analysis.

“Rabbit.”

Pang!

A rabbit doll holding a whip appeared.

Hikaru expressed delight, and Jung-woo thought.

‘Buff type. But it was different from a simple increase in ability output.’

It seemed more like it provided expandability.

He wasn’t sure if it applied equally to other skills, but when handling the Shark Avatar, Rabbit added bonus effects like ‘expanded application range of Fluidification’ on top of the basic stat increase.

And ultimately, it had erased the rampaging ability with its whip.

That gave rise to a hypothesis.

‘The reason Eternal Imprisonment runs out of control is because the host ability user’s specs can’t handle the ability. So if we fill the insufficient specs with buffs and supplement the lacking control ability through Rabbit, then…’

The key was establishing the zero point.

If they could find the maximum amount of mana Hikaru could control and increase her skill usage experience so she could operate within that range, practical application wouldn’t be so difficult.

After all, the very activation of a skill was a concept that received the system’s correction, wasn’t it?

What came next was the greatest hurdle.

Jung-woo faced Hikaru directly.

And after steeling himself several times, he said carefully.

“Miss Ichijomodori. Could you listen without misunderstanding?”

“Yes…!”

“From now on, I’m going to whip you.”

The expression that appeared in that moment convinced Jung-woo.

Ah, she definitely misunderstood.

“…Rabbit, not me.”

Shin Jung-woo, human being.

He had never said anything so self-deprecating in his entire life.

It felt like his inner morality was crumbling.