Jung-woo placed immense trust in Hunting Training.

He understood better than most just how practical the knowledge within it was.

It differed from conventional academic perspectives.

While academic research focused solely on defining gates and magical beasts as enemies of humanity and finding ways to eliminate them, that book explained *why* they behaved and reacted the way they did.

It was a gap that anyone in the field would inevitably feel.

Rather than simply memorizing where their weaknesses and strengths lay, understanding *why* they possessed those weaknesses and strengths opened up limitless possibilities for application.

For Jung-woo, who loved research and analysis, no better educational resource had existed since the dawn of the gate era.

The data itself had undergone indescribable advancement, yet Hunting Training remained Jung-woo’s sole benchmark.

He had wondered at some point.

What kind of people were the first-generation hunters who compiled this book?

What manner of insight did they possess to view the otherworld and write such a book?

The answer was beginning to take shape before him.

“After the parasite entered my body, I barely felt hunger. The mana I drew in with each breath had become my sustenance. But it was strange. I was supposed to become part of the ecosystem, yet I’d become detached from it. I pondered the cause and reached a conclusion. The parasite is the destination of evolution—no longer needing to replenish nutrients from the ecosystem.”

“So you deliberately attempted to feed.”

“Yes. I traced this evolution in reverse. By observing magical beasts, I tried to reach the very bottom of this ecosystem.”

They had not rejected the otherworld.

They simply recognized it as another ecosystem with an unfamiliar environment.

Easier said than done—there was no way it could have actually been easy.

Alien invaders who had one day shaken the world and shattered all existing common sense.

Instinctive revulsion aside, there was also the prevailing current of the times to consider.

While everything around them was crumbling under endless malice, they had responded with curiosity before emotional fury.

And precisely because of that, these people had been different.

Jung-woo could now grasp the meaning of what Jun-ho had called a “missed step.”

“The research focus was misaligned. We should have established the overarching framework and then examined the details, but instead we separated interconnected research into isolated branches. The pace was bound to be slow.”

When that happened, two phenomena stemming from the same cause would be treated as separate issues.

Even problems with straightforward conclusions would consume time through needless detours.

They would eventually reach the same conclusion.

But the progress along the way would reveal itself with agonizing slowness.

If asked to pinpoint the fundamental cause of how things had ended up this way, there was one answer.

Humanity’s research direction had been filled with malice toward the otherworld.

Retracing that point, his mind cleared considerably.

Jun-ho grinned and said:

“When you’re thrown into an unfamiliar environment, you have to find the patterns in what’s right in front of you first.”

“…Yes. The data accumulated that way would become the foundation for quickly finding clues when facing another new environment.”

“Same goes for looking further ahead. You’re aiming for Zero Gate exploration, right? I heard from Ho-jong.”

Jung-woo nodded.

Jun-ho shrugged.

“I don’t know why you’re aiming for that place, but you’d do well to remember this. It’s still an ecosystem. An ecosystem closer to the otherworld, sure, but an ecosystem nonetheless. Your perspective matters. You need to keep it grounded at the base—that they’re not some transcendent beings.”

The conversation with Jun-ho was invaluable.

Through it, Jung-woo gained certainty about facts he had known only in fragments or suspected privately, and he corrected several pieces of information he had understood incorrectly.

He spent two days learning from Jun-ho.

Not important content, but the most fundamental things he had been overlooking.

It was an opportunity to rethink the species known as magical beasts.

What had been vaguely defined was reestablished at its foundation, and theory was rebuilt upon that basis.

In conclusion, how should magical beasts be designated?

He could reach that answer.

“So the ultimate goal of magical beasts is evolution.”

“What makes you think so?”

“They’re different from us. Mutations occurring across generations. Rather than survival of the fittest, they actively create their own changes.”

“Correct. Magical beasts are highly compatible with evolution. The change occurs within the individual rather than across generations, making it difficult to classify them into species.”

“So that’s why they’re only classified by form. Not by species name.”

“Classification was impossible to begin with. You know this too, Mr. Shin.”

“…They’re so uniquely individual. The appearances of magical beasts.”

“Every individual is a different species. Countless evolutions occur at the individual level to survive in their respective environments.”

Magical beasts evolve to survive.

Having lived in environments where survival was impossible without immediate evolution, only the species most amenable to evolution would have remained to take these forms.

In other words, evolution was their instinct.

Ceaselessly altering the rules and forms of their own bodies seemed absurd, yet there was a substance known to the entire world that made such a thing possible.

“Mana. Mana was the catalyst.”

“Gates and mana emerged together. Because mana originally belonged to magical beasts.”

This was information everyone had vaguely anticipated.

However, in accepting it, one piece of information needed revision.

“…Hunters react to mana. They utilize it.”

“Right. And when that goes too far?”

“…Demonification.”

Soon-ae came to mind.

The Wooden Doll currently caring for Se-gi in Pyongyang.

“Mana was the ecological intersection. An ecological element harmless to both sides and simultaneously acceptable to both.”

“Yes. The reason demonification is inevitably rejected—’properties too similar to magical beasts’ and simultaneously ‘harmless.’ Those two keywords straddle that boundary. The clue was already there.”

It was a troubling realization.

It had become clear that a hunter’s awakening was simply a human naturally compatible with mana being stimulated by the catalyst.

Which meant drawing closer to magical beasts.

Yet it wasn’t only troubling.

For one thing, wasn’t it also proof that this was not inherently harmful to humans?

Above all, the moment that information was nailed down as fact, certain things became understandable.

‘How parasites detect Ex-grade talent. The fundamental reason Se-gi was targeted.’

Mana talent that had reached the extreme.

It had existed from birth.

Magical beasts would find it and exploit it.

Hence, if discovered, a Zero Gate; if undiscovered, an Ex-grade hunter.

“Awakening Induction, Talent Tests. Things like that might become possible.”

“Current Awakening Induction is primitive. It’s close to just setting out water and praying.”

“You’re saying it could become possible to systematize it?”

“It’ll take a long time, though.”

“And beyond that…”

Jun-ho smiled knowingly, as if anticipating the rest.

“Mana Organs could be artificially created inside the human body. Hunters would no longer be special. An era where humans using mana becomes the norm will come.”

It was not easy to dare imagine.

And above all, there was an obstacle to explaining all of these premises.

“Then what is the Hunter Interface?”

“I don’t know that either.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t. It’s not the field I studied.”

Jung-woo blinked.

Jun-ho continued.

“It’s too alien to begin with. And the interface itself is artificial. It’s a pressure separate from this ecosystem.”

“…There’s a faction hostile to magical beasts. They sided with us. That’s the general claim about where our power comes from.”

“I don’t think it’s entirely wrong, but it’s not entirely right either.”

Jung-woo nodded.

After hearing this much of a lesson, there were bound to be things one would come to understand.

“It comes down to parasites in the end. They go out of their way to cling to the bodies of hunters who are compatible with mana.”

“Right. Strange to call that hostile, isn’t it? More like…”

“A necessary component?”

That was the moment it clicked.

Jung-woo’s eyes flew wide open.

The pieces locked together in his mind.

‘The first instinct of magical beasts is evolution.’

Their reason for existence, directly tied to survival.

‘parasites are the most highly evolved form of magical beasts.’

They had transcended the limits of physical form and the limits of feeding.

They were Transcendent Species that had surpassed even the limitation of form.

But,

‘Even so, they cannot be free of their instinct.’

Something was revealed there.

The question of ‘why’ was necessary.

All answers began from that.

The answer lay in the trajectory their evolutionary instinct followed.

“…The parasites’ next evolution.”

Jung-woo looked at Jun-ho in astonishment.

Jun-ho appeared thoroughly satisfied.

“Yes. The reason it must be a hunter. The reason it must be a high-ranking hunter. The reason the Millennium Shock occurred. The reason magical beasts had no choice but to invade this land.”

It all converged into one.

“Their next evolution required the nourishment of hunters. To be precise, something tied to the Authority of the interface. To break through their species’ limitations, they exposed another species capable of obtaining the Hunter Interface—which they themselves could not—to mana. Like a fish farm, essentially.”

His breath seemed to stop.

The secret no one had uncovered had, in truth, been cast over with all the answers already visible.

And that it had taken a terrifyingly simple form.

His lips parted, but no words came out.

His mind was in turmoil, yet paradoxically clear.

Jun-ho spoke.

“How about it? Too easy a problem, right?”

Yet it was not a problem to be taken lightly.

“Doesn’t that ultimately mean that as long as the otherworld’s ecosystem doesn’t go extinct, gates will never disappear?”

They evolve endlessly.

Forming their own ecosystem in some world beyond the gates, they are endlessly produced and spill over.

Their purpose in coming over is hunters.

But hunters can barely hold back the surging forces, let alone mount a counteroffensive.

He felt the vast distance.

It bordered on despair.

Yet Jun-ho was smiling.

Jung-woo did not want to dismiss that smile as a madman’s.

“…Do you know a way to stop it?”

“I’m only speculating. But it’s a speculation with basis.”

Having said that, Jun-ho rose from his seat.

He cast his gaze deeper into Hamgyong Province.

“Let’s go. I can’t show you here.”

Jun-ho stepped forward without hesitation.

Jung-woo steadied his breathing and followed.

The path Jun-ho led was exceedingly treacherous.

Though Haetae had been defeated, the area was not yet fully purified.

Gate induction was out of the question, and magical beasts teemed everywhere.

Yet it was safe.

Hwiririk—!

Because Jun-ho’s wind blew back everything that approached.

From an enemy’s perspective, it had been a terrifying ability.

But experiencing it as an ally, the sheer versatility of it drew a wry laugh.

“I was infected by a parasite fifteen years ago. I spent ten years submerged beneath my own consciousness.”

Jun-ho spoke of his past fifteen years.

“I adapted to this ecosystem, studied it, and wrestled with it endlessly. Losing after only five years is embarrassing, but it wasn’t without results.”

“…What did you find out?”

“Before that, let me ask. Parasites cling to hunters for their next evolution. You understand that?”

“Yes.”

“Do you also know they’re highly advanced intelligent entities?”

“…I know.”

“Good. They target hunters’ power. They are intelligent entities. Cunning and relentless. If you understand all that, there’s a question you need to ask me, Mr. Shin.”

In truth, it was a question that had risen to his lips countless times.

A question he had swallowed back just as many times.

Jun-ho said there was no need to hold back anymore.

Jung-woo asked with a long exhale.

“…What has happened to your interface, Mr. Chun Jun-ho?”

Jun-ho’s awakened abilities remained intact.

Or rather, to be frank, it was largely undamaged even compared to when he had been coexisting with the parasite.

But based on what he had heard, that didn’t make sense.

If parasites fed on hunter abilities as sustenance, then his power should have been completely drained by the parasite.

Jun-ho smiled faintly.

But it was a somewhat bitter smile.

“One was lost.”

“If it was lost…”

“The string was broken. For specific skills. And those skills can never be used again, no matter how hard I try.”

Jung-woo’s steps halted.

Only Jung-woo could understand the meaning of those words.

“…Severance. Wind Blade.”

The parasite had absorbed a ‘Concept.’

It was the entity that had dissolved the Wind Blade residing within Jun-ho’s Storm Lord into its own magic stone.

And that power now resided within Teddy Bear.

Finally, Jung-woo realized that in all the time Jun-ho had been roaming this place, he had never once seen him cut anything with the wind.

His lips parted.

A chill ran down his spine.

“Then…”

“I don’t regret it. I’m not weak enough to crumble over losing a single blade, and other parts have grown stronger to compensate. I just focus on one thing.”

However, those words carried an unmistakable intent.

“They eat concepts. The concepts of phenomena contained within the miracle called the Hunter Interface.”

“…”

“Mr. Shin, I was already a hunter. I was S-Rank, and I understood a great deal about this ecosystem. That’s why I could endure without surrendering everything. But you’ll understand when I say this much.”

Jung-woo understood.

Jun-ho was warning him.

“The greatest talent. Those granted the greatest concepts are Born S-Rank. Parasites targeted them. The result was Zero Gates.”

This was a fact that had been known for quite some time, long before the concept of Ex was understood.

Jun-ho added to that.

“What happened to those who accepted parasites before reaching full awakening?”

“…They surrendered every concept.”

“Yes.”

It was a suffocating statement.

“What you’re dealing with, Mr. Jung-woo, are such beings. Masters of the otherworld who have acquired supreme concepts.”

His brow furrowed.

Because he knew better than anyone how terrifying that power was.

And to add one more thing—because he could now be certain that what had destroyed Seoul was the concept Se-gi had harbored.

The sense of vastness grew even greater.

Because he realized this was knowledge that would drive humanity to despair.

But—

“Just found it. The thing I really wanted to show you.”

Jun-ho was still smiling.

At the end of his gaze stood a tree.

“That’s…”

“Flora. Otherworldly flora.”

Jun-ho approached the tree.

And ran his hand along its grain.

“Mr. Shin, the distinction between flora and fauna. I trust you wouldn’t think that’s common sense in the otherworld.”

“…No.”

Walking trees. Screaming buildings.

Jung-woo had already seen far too many such things.

“This tree is also evolving into a living creature through prolonged exposure to mana, right?”

“It’s reached the threshold. It will change soon. That’s the core principle. Everything belonging to the otherworld evolves.”

Jun-ho’s gaze turned to Jung-woo.

Hard conviction settled on his face.

“That’s why these beings fear you, Mr. Jung-woo. Even the one that possessed my body feared that power.”

Kugugugugu—!

The tree Jun-ho had been touching heaved.

It twisted this way and that, then began to transform.

“There’s only one reason.”

It would soon become a magical beast.

A magical beast that walked, jaws gaping wide, devouring living things.

But it never reached that purpose.

【[All-Ages Filter] is activating!】

Ppyobyobyong!

The tree transformed into a giant wooden doll.

Wind wrapped around it.

Ududududuk!

The wooden doll twisted and died.

Jun-ho said:

“Because Mr. Shin’s concept exists at the extreme end of these beings.”

Their eyes met.

“That power denies the very evolution that is their reason for existence.”

Jung-woo’s fist tightened.