Baek Geun-ho, master of the Marang guild responsible for Nowon-gu, was a man directly affected by the gate incident in which Jung-woo had awakened—and he was also the master of one of the four options Jung-woo had selected for his future affiliation.

He turned to Yeon-hwa, his most trusted aide.

“Is the information reliable? You’re saying the masters of Cheon-hwa and Black Moon went in person and came back looking none the wiser?”

“Yes. The old man from Cheon-hwa always has such a sour expression that it’s hard to tell, but Black Moon definitely seemed to have failed.”

“Well, well, is that so…!”

Geun-ho rubbed his hands together with a broad grin.

There was a time he genuinely thought the guild was done for, but now things were falling into place so smoothly.

The question of accountability for the gate tracking failure never made it to the table.

The news of Jung-woo’s born S-Rank status was so sensational, and with zero casualties, the matter had simply slipped from public attention.

The evaluation agencies, too, were so fixated on Jung-woo that they rubber-stamped the related reports without scrutiny.

By all accounts, the cleanup had been wrapped up neatly.

How could Jung-woo not look appealing?

And that wasn’t the end of it. Athens, one of the Three Great Guilds, had failed the so-called “paper screening”—and Jung-woo let Marang pass through without hesitation.

Perhaps because Marang was the guild responsible for defending the area where Jung-woo lived.

Or maybe he had always thought well of Marang to begin with.

Whatever the reason, one fact remained unchanged: this was a golden opportunity.

“The old men ahead of me have already had their turn, and I’m not sure where the last one is, but it’s definitely not one of the Three Great Guilds.”

Well then, it’s a landslide victory, isn’t it?

The entire world’s spotlight was trained on Jung-woo’s nest.

Marang—a guild with an S-Rank hunter.

This was the chance to elevate the guild’s recognition to a world-class level.

Geun-ho spoke with a beaming face.

“I should book a dermatology appointment. Can’t have skin troubles when I’m doing interviews.”

“Drinking kimchi soup before you even get the rice cake, I see. Nothing’s decided yet, so take this first.”

“What is it?”

“A gift for Hunter Shin Jung-woo’s daughter.”

It was a shark plush doll about the size of an adult’s torso.

Yeon-hwa adjusted her rimless glasses and added.

“It’s the latest trend among kids these days.”

“Ooh, nice! Hahaha! Nothing melts a dad’s heart like a gift for his daughter!”

Geun-ho promptly took the plush doll and checked his reflection in the mirror, straightening his expression.

His face was so conspicuously rough that even with his hair slicked back and a sharp suit on, he still looked like someone running some kind of illicit operation—but at the very least, Geun-ho himself believed he looked “intellectual.”

“I’ll be back! Miss Baek! Keep a director’s seat open for me!”

“That will sort itself out, sir. As I mentioned, given our scale, the goal isn’t recruitment but building a relationship—”

“I’m off!”

“…Sigh.”

A man doesn’t listen to nagging beyond three words.

True to his personal motto, Geun-ho headed to the battlefield without looking back.

He would agree to any condition and bring Jung-woo in by any means necessary.

If Jung-woo demanded the representative position, he’d even consider offering him co-master status.

That was the level of resolve he carried with him.

To cut to the chase—well, unfortunately.

“…I’m sorry, I must have misheard?”

“Hmm, it is a disconcerting question, isn’t it? Let me say it again.”

Is this person perhaps out of his mind?

“If I were to enter an overseas Zero Gate, would you be able to provide support?”

The detailed circumstances were unclear, but even so, one thing could be said with certainty.

“Isn’t that basically asking me to pick a fight with other countries?”

“Ah, as expected.”

Jung-woo answered with a genial smile that carried a hint of awkwardness.

“Then I apologize, but I won’t be able to join Marang. Still, I’d like to maintain a mutually beneficial relationship with you, Master, going forward. Oh! I’ll be sure to give the shark plush to Se-gi. I think she’ll love it.”

“Uh…”

The young hunter-entrepreneur Baek Geun-ho, once buoyed by dreams.

Blown to pieces without a shred of hesitation.

A demise as spectacular as the dreams that had inflated it.

Se-gi grabbed the shark plush doll, squealing kyakyak with delight, and chattered away while hugging it tightly.

“This is a baby shark~ You know, when Daddy Shark and Mommy Shark all get together~”

Se-gi loved explaining things she knew to others.

Jung-woo played along with an affectionate smile, then gave the kind of answer any doting father would.

“Se-gi, you could be a teacher when you grow up.”

“A teacha?”

“Yeah, a teacher.”

“But teachas have to wear glasses? Se-gi has good eyes, so she doesn’t need glasses?”

“You can be a teacher without wearing glasses.”

“Really!?”

“Really, really.”

It’s a parent’s nature to see their child as a once-in-a-generation genius just for being able to do addition.

She loved explaining things so much and spoke so coherently (?) that he couldn’t help thinking she’d look natural standing at a podium.

In any case, he’d have to thank Baek Geun-ho separately later for the shark plush doll.

Jung-woo chuckled.

‘He was a more interesting person than I expected.’

How should he put it—it was enjoyable to find him exactly the person he’d known him to be.

Of the four options he’d selected while deliberating his living arrangements, he had met with two of the Three Great Guilds and the Marang guild.

Cheon-hwa and Black Moon were bets placed on the social infrastructure and authority they already possessed, while Marang was contacted based on its future potential.

‘When did Baek Geun-ho become S-Rank again?’

Three years? Four years?

He awakened while holding off a swarm of magical beasts single-handedly during a Gate Shock that occurred on the outskirts of Seoul.

That was how he became South Korea’s sixth S-Rank awakener, catapulting Marang into the ranks of top-grade guilds in one stroke.

That power was certainly a meaningful factor in why he’d been shortlisted, but in truth, there was another reason Marang had been on his mind.

Baek Geun-ho was one of the most devoted hunters to the greater cause that Jung-woo had ever known.

He lived by the motto of “all or nothing,” and true to those words, he had the backbone to abandon several of the guild’s profitable ventures for the sake of citizen safety and convenience, believing that “using power correctly is what’s truly cool.”

The irony was that this very quality was what kept him from reaching the top until he achieved S-Rank.

In any case, while he felt a deep personal affinity toward the man and his guild, it was unfortunately not a place that could make the final cut.

‘A guild won’t work. Makes sense—they’re essentially corporations. There’s bound to be all sorts of institutional constraints.’

What Jung-woo needed right now were exploration and subjugation rights for Zero Gates.

But that was a matter where the risks overwhelmingly outweighed the benefits for any nation or corporation, making it a difficult proposition given his external standing.

A means to break through that barrier.

An organization that could remain free from such constraints.

Deliberation upon deliberation followed.

And the answer converged on one.

Jung-woo stared at the business card for quite some time.

[Abnormal Disaster Countermeasure Bureau]

The last one he hadn’t yet met.

However, it would require taking such a radical approach that he had saved it as his absolute last resort—and that was where it lay.

The immediate challenge was securing freedom of action and eliminating various external obstacles.

In truth, there was one remarkably simple way to achieve that.

‘Just change the policy of the national institution.’

If the nation’s stance was the obstacle, then change that stance.

If various interests stood in the way, then rendering those interests themselves moot would suffice.

There was one organization capable of such a thing.

In all of South Korea, there was one.

[Abnormal Disaster Countermeasure Bureau]

An agency that prepared for Gate Shock incidents and oversaw the overall flow of gate occurrences.

Currently, it was a subordinate department of the Hunter Management Bureau, its functions narrowly focused on responding to gate-specific emergencies.

But in the future, that would change.

‘It’s the organization that would become the successor to the soon-to-be-dissolved Management Bureau.’

The Countermeasure Bureau would become the new Management Bureau.

It would be elevated into the body that directly drafted and reviewed hunter-related legislation.

So consider this.

‘What if I accelerate the launch of that organization ahead of the original timeline?’

If he brought that about with his own hands and positioned himself at the center of national hunters.

Wouldn’t he then be able to manipulate institutional constraints however he pleased?

Today’s meeting had been arranged with exactly that in mind.

“A pleasure to meet you. I’m Jin Ho-jong, director of the Abnormal Disaster Countermeasure Bureau.”

A corner seat in a large café near his studio apartment.

It was a weekday afternoon, so there weren’t many customers, and with a cap pulled low, there were no curious glances from nearby.

Jung-woo sat across from a middle-aged man in a rumpled suit who exuded an air of languid listlessness.

A sports cut with gray streaks covering half his head, a modest frame, and half-closed eyes that made him look perpetually drowsy—all of it gave him the appearance of a civil servant worn down by years of bureaucratic grind.

But he couldn’t be taken lightly.

Of course not.

‘He’s the man who dissolved the Management Bureau.’

This was the very man who had brought down every last one of the hunter-turned-politicians who had once been called the lords of the heavens.

There was an incident Jung-woo still couldn’t forget.

‘He marched right up to a National Assembly member mid-press conference and beat him senseless.’

The politician on the receiving end was beaten to the brink of death, then tearfully confessed—before dozens of cameras—that the evidence of corruption Director Jin Ho-jong had presented was indeed true.

Having thus exposed their transgressions to the entire world, he reorganized the national hunter system as the Management Bureau’s successor, then proclaimed the slogan “Hunters exist solely to protect society from the threat of gates”—effectively turning public-service hunters into isolated islands within the government apparatus. All of that in half a year.

Director Jin Ho-jong was that bold, that remarkable a person.

He needed to be on his guard.

“A pleasure. I’m Shin Jung-woo.”

“Well, well, what a fine young man. And polite, too.”

“It’s an honor to meet a first-generation hunter. I’ve seen you on the news since I was young.”

“Why bring up old times? A young fellow like you will go on to do far greater things.”

“But it’s because that past exists that the present is here.”

“You can butter me up all you like, but I don’t have much to offer, so…”

The middle-aged man scratched his cheek as if embarrassed.

Then he added.

“Still, this is unexpected. I wouldn’t have imagined a young, strapping fellow like you taking interest in such a humble department.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. If I were Shin Jung-woo, I wouldn’t come to a place like this. Why not go to Black Moon, Cheon-hwa, or Athens—those glamorous outfits—and live like a king? A penthouse overlooking the Han River in Seoul, a garage full of a dozen supercars… wouldn’t that be the life?”

Then he suddenly probed.

“…But here you are. What could you possibly see in a place like this to come all the way here? That’s what I’m curious about.”

The chill that ran down his spine was no illusion.

Jung-woo caught a sharp edge lurking within those drowsy eyes.

Jung-woo smiled bitterly.

He knew full well that he was doing something beyond understanding.

For the public good?

Then it would make more sense to get a job at the Management Bureau.

For personal gain, the Countermeasure Bureau was even less suitable.

So there wasn’t much he could say.

“Wasn’t it the Countermeasure Bureau that extended the scouting offer?”

“That was just me fishing. I make a living off taxpayers’ money, so I have to at least pretend to work.”

“Even so, now that I’m actually coming, you need a reason.”

“It leaves a bad feeling, doesn’t it?”

Ho-jong took a long gulp of his coffee and added.

“So, young friend, what do you want to do here?”

A string of plausible interview-ready phrases flashed through Jung-woo’s mind.

But none of them felt right.

‘Not really.’

He had seen many crowds.

He had built many social relationships.

That was why he also knew that there were people in the world upon whom lip service didn’t work.

From what Jung-woo could tell, Ho-jong was endlessly close to that type of person.

And so, Jung-woo abandoned pretense.

He needed to be a bit more genuine.

So he brought up something that bordered on tangential, yet had been a significant priority in his choice of workplace.

“Punctual arrival, punctual departure. Guaranteed leave. Business trip incentives.”

It was a bit embarrassing.

“I heard the workload is very light.”

This, too, was necessary for Jung-woo’s purposes.

“I’m raising my child alone, so I need to be with her in the evenings. I want to drop her off at daycare on my way to work and always pick her up again after I get off. And on weekends, I want to take her out to play.”

Jung-woo’s smile grew sheepish.

He knew it might seem discourteous to say such things to the man sitting across from him.

But wasn’t it true?

He intended to be greedy in this regression.

So, just as much as he prepared for the disaster ten years ahead, he wanted to create many happy days for the Se-gi of today.

The Countermeasure Bureau was a place that would fully guarantee that kind of work-life balance, so he had spoken honestly about it.

His throat was a bit dry.

He drank his coffee.

Silence.

A moment where only glances were exchanged.

“You pass.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s a pass.”

Ho-jong was nodding his head.

His expression remained inscrutable, but at the very least, the sharp edge that had been lurking in his eyes had vanished without a trace.

He extended his hand for a handshake.

“That’s the right answer. Shin Jung-woo, we’re the finest tax thieves in this country. I look forward to working with you. Let’s skim the national coffers together.”

Was that really all it took?

The sudden shift in attitude caught him off guard, and he couldn’t bring himself to take the hand right away.

Only after a moment did he hesitantly reach out, and Ho-jong gripped it firmly.

That was the moment.

“I like you. Someone like you, Shin Jung-woo, who understands attachment. Someone willing to sacrifice himself for it. People like that do good work.”

The words carried a certain ambiguity.

His gaze was dark and murky, as if peering straight into his soul, and Jung-woo realized.

This man—

“All the better if you’ve got darkness in you. It means you’re shrewd.”

He was not someone to be taken lightly, after all.

There had been a time when news about Jung-woo filled the entire world, but as someone once observed, news eventually gets buried by news—and true to that, stories about Jung-woo were gradually withering, overtaken by other juicy topics.

But that was only for the general public. Journalists were a different story.

Whatever his next move might be, there would certainly be one—and being the first to catch and report it would be a first-rate scoop. That was the current reality of Jung-woo.

So how could they lose interest?

Tenaciously, there were reporters quietly gathering intelligence on his movements, so discreetly that even the summon patrolling his neighborhood showed no reaction.

Others continued their investigation using accumulated information networks and databases.

His life was so quiet that it had been days without any new findings.

It was during such a time.

“Senior! They’re saying Shin Jung-woo is going to the Abnormal Disaster Countermeasure Bureau!?”

“What kind of baseless rumor is that? Instead of digging through trash like that, why don’t you check the corporate announcements—”

“No, it’s official!”

“What!?!?”

An unconventional move that no one had anticipated had been revealed.

Just as the world was about to stir.

What was Jung-woo, the man at the center of it all, actually doing?

The answer: preparing to move.

“Se-gi, that goes here.”

“We’re not taking this?”

“Yeah, let’s buy new clothes for the new closet.”

“New clothes!”

“Yeah, clothes. Let’s get new shoes too.”

“Se-gi wants to wear Biniping shoes!”

“Biniping? What’s that? Shall we go look after we finish moving?”

“Yeah! Biniping is great! All my friends have Biniping!”

With the employment contract finalized, Jung-woo’s pockets now held a signing bonus worth several billion won, secured by the Countermeasure Bureau through a request to the government.

It was time to leave this shabby studio apartment.