His body felt light.

His mind was clear.

But it felt different from having his accumulated damage simply disappear.

It was hard to articulate, but while his body screamed at him to stop burning calories, his head leaned more toward, “I could keep going.”

Jung-woo recognized an ability that was infinitely similar to this.

‘Berserk?’

Berserk.

An ability that temporarily erased fatigue and extended combat duration.

Was this what the ability was for?

The thought that surfaced was immediately dismissed.

‘…It’s a side effect.’

It was a byproduct of something much broader, encompassing the entire skill.

Faced with this bizarre harmony, Jung-woo stared blankly at the interface.

‘Review Regulation.’

As with any skill, there was no description.

However, that messenger-shaped entity subtly hinted that this skill could provide this kind of assistance.

What on earth was it?

Why did he have to suffer through deterioration just to obtain it, and yet it still triggered something like this in this situation?

He was confused.

But there was no time for that.

“Hunter Shin Jung-woo.”

The support team leader spoke with tension.

“Are you alright?”

“Ah, yes. I’m fine.”

Dozens of pairs of eyes were fixed on him.

No, counting the reporters beyond them, it would be hundreds; thinking of the number of people watching this moment, counting would be meaningless.

He couldn’t show them falling apart at the very end.

‘We’re almost there.’

Thoughts later. For now, finish this.

Jung-woo took a deep breath.

“Report.”

“The mana storm isn’t stopping. It’s too overwhelming within a compressed radius of about 1km centered on Jormungandr…”

“Eternal Imprisonment must have left an impression. It’s likely its evolution path. It’s mimicking the gimmick it was hit with.”

He watched Jormungandr approaching on the monitor.

Or rather, he kept a close eye on the domain it was generating rather than Jormungandr itself.

The space had no color.

The mana concentration was so dense that all saturation was suppressed, turning it black and white.

Countless black solid lines overlapped and rotated over the murky white atmosphere.

Every single one of those lines was air being torn apart in real time.

The intent to charge and grind everything to dust was that vivid.

There was a difference in class.

‘To think it can still generate a phenomenon of that scale after being depleted that much.’

It was simply awe-inspiring.

‘To think he hunted and killed something like this alone…’

It was, of course, thanks to perfectly targeting its weakness, but even so, Edmond’s achievement felt newly profound.

The sentiment ended there.

Jung-woo walked toward the beach.

Fortunately, the buff from Review Regulation didn’t seem to be ending yet.

It would probably last until Jormungandr was subjugated.

‘I need to show that justice wins.’

Easier said than done.

But it was the right thing to say.

‘Let’s do this. Alright.’

Jung-woo wrapped himself in Rabbit’s buff once more.

Piiing—along with the ringing in his ears, his perception began to reach the realm of transcendence.

How severe would the backlash be once the battle was over?

He pushed even that thought aside for now.

His breath stretched long.

Oxygen spread throughout his body via his blood vessels, pulling up his vitality once more.

No one could follow him.

The support team had already exhausted their stamina thanks to the hours-long pursuit.

Kwon-seung was still catching his breath, and Ho-jong had his eyes squeezed shut.

As for Hikaru, she looked like half her sanity had flown out the window.

Sea Otter and Shark also showed signs of reaching their mana limits.

Sea Otter, having unleashed hundreds of Phase Shifts without delay, was completely drained of mana and lay sprawled out limply.

Shark, likewise, after continuously operating dozens of avatars simultaneously for hit-and-run tactics, lay face down, just shivering.

These guys, who had always been so reliable, had been pushed this far.

If he didn’t make this a success, he wouldn’t be able to face them even in death.

He walked out.

He read the flow of the wind.

He felt it approaching, and soon it began to enter his line of sight.

Tens of kilometers away.

But right now, it was no different from being right in front of his nose.

Their eyes met.

That was when it happened.

【Skill: [Review Regulation (Ex)] is now active!】

【I don’t understand difficult words! Dubbing will be applied!】

[“How dare a wretch like you—!”]

A hate-filled scream rang out as if tearing through the air.

It wasn’t hard to tell that it belonged to Jormungandr.

He flinched.

But he wasn’t surprised for long.

He had known ever since this skill had the ability to decode the language of magical beasts, even before it received the temporary name [Review Regulation], back when it was [■■■■].

And simultaneously, he realized.

‘So that’s why Berserk is attached to it.’

The mechanism of interpreting that language in his mind required a tremendous amount of resources.

This seemed to be a side effect that made it temporarily possible.

‘In the end, the deterioration was for me.’

When he first heard the parasite’s language, he felt everything, right down the line of its emotions.

Now, he merely inferred the emotions through the intonation.

He hadn’t grown enough to fully accept it.

This [Perfect Caregiver] aptitude had made that judgment and accepted the deterioration.

…Honestly, none of that mattered anymore.

Jung-woo’s expression distorted.

It was because the moment those words were conveyed, the pieces in his mind snapped into place.

‘Why…’

He had been having such thoughts since sometime ago.

The truth was, whether it was the destruction of the parasites or whatever else.

The North Korean reclamation or whatever else.

Before all that, weren’t those highly advanced transcendental intelligences aiming for something else?

He agonized over it.

Because he felt he had to.

The reason for such feelings was also clear.

Jung-woo himself had been vaguely aware of it.

He had simply wanted to believe it wasn’t true all this time.

‘Why…’

The reason why a disaster like Jormungandr had to go out of its way to move its body and come all the way here.

The reason the parasite attached to Chun Jun-ho’s body had recognized this power and sent hatred his way.

Even before that.

The day he regressed.

The day his aptitude was first displayed on the streets.

‘Did a gate accident happen on that day, in that place, even before I regressed?’

Was there an incident where an A-Rank Champion magical beast suddenly appeared on the streets before?

Because of the blank in his memory, he tried not to jump to biased conclusions.

Before his regression, he had never gone to that place on that day, and even if he tried to remember through the news, an accident with no victims would just end up as a temporary happening.

So he had turned a blind eye to it.

But now the answer hung over him.

[“This power is not for the likes of you—!”]

The magical beasts feared this power.

At the same time, they desired it desperately.

This power that sought to protect Se-gi was received by them as a power with such special meaning.

Thus, the magical beasts began targeting him, focusing solely on this power.

And that power sought to make Se-gi smile.

Everything was a question.

The relationship between the Hunter System and the magical beasts.

The reason they invaded the otherworld.

The fundamental purpose of the disasters that connected dimensions.

With so many things in question, only one thing was clear.

It all circled back to Se-gi.

Everything surrounding that child was a tsunami that she couldn’t possibly bear as a child.

At that fact, a burning fury settled in his chest.

It was such an intense emotion that the indignation starting from his chest rushed up to the top of his head, making it feel as if his entire body was burning hot.

That was how it was.

What did that child do wrong to have to be tangled up in something like this?

He couldn’t accept it.

He didn’t want to acknowledge it.

So he denied it.

Because he couldn’t, he had come to this point.

And yet.

“Nothing changes.”

Nothing had to change.

“I won’t be interrupted by anyone.”

This second life was given for a tomorrow where Se-gi could smile.

No matter what stood in his way, he would head down that path.

That was why he was here.

Kwagwagwagwagwa—!

The storm approached.

’10 seconds.’

The time it would take for Jormungandr’s domain influence to reach this place.

But for Jung-woo, it was plenty of time.

“Teddy Bear.”

Ppok!

Teddy Bear stood beside Jung-woo.

“Let’s go.”

Teddy Bear drew its sword.

The odds of winning went without saying.

“It’s 100%. I designed this looking only at this single moment. So make it a success.”

He erased all variables.

Solely to present the most perfect stage for this guy.

Ppok!

Teddy Bear charged.

It was a long battle.

The territorial waters had been that fiercely contested since dawn, and despite being fought on the sea, its aftermath reverberated as tremors all the way to the mainland.

It wasn’t just massive in scale.

It was equally fierce.

In a way, it was a desperate struggle that bordered on tragic.

Those who watched this scene live easily surpassed hundreds of millions.

They all saw it.

The sight of an astronomically huge snake parting the sea as it advanced.

How mere dozens of people wove through attacks that would kill on a mere graze for hours on end without rest to somehow draw its attention.

How the enemy didn’t die even after being subjected to a bombardment reminiscent of the apocalypse.

And how no one gave up despite all that.

It was a monumental feat.

Because it was a desperate struggle for the survival of a nation, the moment victory arrived, it became a feat that would carve its name into history.

Those who achieved it would be called heroes.

A glorious title bestowed only upon those who threw themselves away for the greater good.

It was the final act.

The evolved Jormungandr spread its wings and charged.

Just for that moment, forgetting all vested interests, those watching simultaneously prayed.

Please, after coming this far, let them win.

Please prove that humanity could overcome this terrible disaster.

The teddy bear, carrying such earnest wishes, raised its sword.

Ppok!

It shot forward as if flying into the spherical storm tainted in black and white on the screen.

Paaaaang—!

It was an incredibly fast speed.

The flight trajectory of a straight line without an inch of hesitation swept refreshingly across the camera lens.

Teddy Bear pulled its sword to its waist.

Tremendous mana undulated in a golden hue and began to wrap around Teddy Bear’s body.

Kiiiiiiing—!

Teddy Bear’s body was dyed in gold.

Within it, only its mantle burned an even deeper red.

It fluttered madly before splitting into two strands.

It looked like a muffler, and it looked like wings.

No, it was closer to a shooting star.

Paang!

Paang!

Paang—!

It accelerated again and again.

The exploding light condensed onto the sword, and the form of light morphed into a single-edged blade.

And so, it was the moment the domain and Teddy Bear collided.

Teddy Bear’s shoulder shifted.

Seugeok—!

A golden solid line was drawn upward into the black-and-white world.

Silence fell.

No one dared to breathe out.

That moment was so majestic and felt like eternity.

It was after such a tension that could freeze one’s thoughts had lingered for so long.

Jjeoeoeoeok—!

The black-and-white world split open.

Jormungandr and its domain were cleaved in two on either side by the sword drawn in a perfectly vertical line.

“Ah…!”

Those on the scene began to let out exclamations one by one.

That was how much of an awe-inspiring scene unfolded.

It was as if a seaside landscape painting had been drawn in black and white, and only its center had been colored in.

What made that contrast appear even more dramatic was the sun raising its head over the horizon, as if announcing the end of dawn.

It was a sunrise.

It forced open the noisy black-and-white world, and through the gap, a vivid sunrise added red and blue.

Everyone felt their hearts involuntarily stir at the scene etched onto their retinas.

One reporter from afar instinctively raised his camera and pressed the shutter, capturing this surreal sight.

Chalkak!

That noise brought them back to reality.

Teddy Bear had struck down the disaster.

This long night had finally come to an end.

As if proving it wasn’t a dream, Jung-woo, his body swaying, spoke weakly into the transceiver.

[Out of Rank, Jormungandr.]

It was a voice that was completely hoarse and cracked.

[Subjugation complete. Good work…]

Thud—unable to even finish his sentence, Jung-woo collapsed onto the beach.

It was after he had finished all his tasks.

That scene was broadcast to the entire world.