This was his first meeting with the internationally renowned figure commonly known as “Dante, Master of Barriers.”

Just as Jung-woo was about to offer his greetings—

“Ninth, save your worthless pleasantries and get your room assigned first.”

“Uh…”

“Go on. It’s a necessary process.”

Henry smiled brightly and patted him on the back.

Rather than asking unnecessary questions, it seemed wiser to simply follow along, so he nodded.

A quick glance showed Dante already slipping through the side door he had emerged from.

Jung-woo trotted after him.

The moment he crossed the threshold—

“Ugh!”

“The direction of gravity changes from here. You’ll adapt soon enough, so don’t make a fuss.”

Vivid astonishment spread across Jung-woo’s face.

The moment he crossed the threshold, gravity exerted its pull from the wall rather than the floor.

Bewilderment washed over him.

Different gravity rules applied to each space—he had never imagined such a building could exist in reality.

‘They said he had the finest non-combat ability…’

He certainly deserved the reputation.

With this ability, even if he only created labyrinth traps at erosion boundaries, it would be nearly impossible for magical beasts to invade human territory.

‘Could this ability perhaps allow us to build a forward base inside a Zero Gate?’

It was certainly possible.

That was probably why Edmond clung to him so persistently.

His train of thought had carried him to that conclusion.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you coming?”

“Ah, yes.”

Startled out of his daze by Dante’s prompting, Jung-woo quickened his pace to catch up.

Even so, his eyes darted about constantly, surveying his surroundings.

Words of open admiration spilled from his lips.

“I’d heard the reputation, but seeing it firsthand is something else entirely. Even when I look at the windows in the ceiling and realize I’m walking on a wall, it still feels like the floor. It’s like my brain is broken—quite entertaining, actually.”

As he looked around, something dawned on him.

The reason this building took such a form.

“Using the walls as corridors to move up and down—the intent is to save ground space, right? By building it as a tower, you conserve space while securing a large floor area… defense and maintenance would be much easier too.”

The moment he finished speaking, Dante muttered.

“You’re a talkative one.”

“Ah, was I being rude?”

“…That you weren’t.”

Jung-woo smiled brightly.

Between his gruff manner and fierce features, one might easily mistake him for having a nasty disposition, but to Jung-woo, he seemed more like someone simply poor at expressing himself.

There was plenty of evidence.

The deeds he accomplished with his ability—the defense of his homeland and the construction of the Great Barrier without seeking reward—revealed his true disposition.

It was publicly known that he spent most of his income on the impoverished in his country.

A prickly but warm-hearted person.

Winning him over didn’t seem difficult.

With that thought, Jung-woo spoke.

“I’m late with my greetings. I’m Shin Jung-woo.”

“I know. Your name keeps showing up on Argentine news without end.”

“That’s embarrassing. It’s nothing compared to your achievements, Mr. Dante.”

“Hmph! Naturally.”

“I look forward to working with you. Since we’ll be colleagues, I’d like us to get along.”

“Strange fellow. Coming to a gathering meant to serve your own interests.”

“Since we’re both here to pick up scraps, wouldn’t it be better if we both ate well?”

Dante glanced at Jung-woo, then stopped wordlessly at a certain spot.

Midway up the tower, before where he stopped, stood a door embossed with a teddy bear figure.

“…Your room.”

“My room?”

“I’m saying it’s the room you’ll use during the Council. Open the wardrobe in that room and you should be able to return to where you came from. I’ve attached the space there.”

Jung-woo’s eyes widened.

“You really do have spatial teleportation ability?”

“I can’t explain in detail. You wouldn’t understand even if I did.”

“Still, isn’t it an incredible ability? Being able to go wherever you want, whenever you want…”

“Not whenever. Once the Council ends, this entire tower enters a dormant period. It shuts down completely.”

Jung-woo smacked his lips awkwardly.

“Hmm, that’s quite a few restrictions.”

“Did you think a building of this caliber would run conveniently? The maintenance costs alone are unmanageable. The magic stones required to keep it running for just these few days cost one and a half million dollars.”

“Ah, I see. That’s a lot of money to waste on a building you won’t even use.”

“Right. Do you know how many people could be saved with that money if it went to charity instead?”

It was indeed wasteful spending.

Jung-woo nodded, then bowed deeply toward Dante.

“Thank you.”

“I’m being paid for it, so forget it.”

“No, I mean the emblem you carved on the door.”

A teddy bear bearing a cloak and holy sword was Jung-woo’s publicly known signature.

The fact that he had considered this before even meeting him meant that, at the very least, Dante had put thought into who would occupy the room.

“I love it. It’s a shame I can’t bring my daughter.”

Dante stared at Jung-woo.

Then he snorted—Kking!—and turned his head away.

Jung-woo thought he would turn and leave, but that wasn’t the case.

“Why are you so obsessed with the Zero Gate?”

“Because it’s dangerous?”

“I heard from that fool Edmond. I know by now that leaving it alone will spell disaster for the entire Earth. But your reason isn’t that, is it?”

Dante added with a probing air.

“I understand you wanted to go even before learning such facts. That’s what I’m curious about. Edmond’s a madman hungry for a place to die, so I’ll give him that, but you don’t strike me as the same.”

It seemed more like an attempt to size him up than pure curiosity.

Fair enough—it was only natural to worry whether a newcomer who suddenly appeared and threw himself at the Zero Gate had suspicious motives.

He had no reason to hide it.

“Because I want to gift my daughter a safe world.”

“Ha, you really started for that reason?”

“Is another reason necessary?”

He had received this question so many times lately.

So one day, he thought about it.

Suppose his abilities remained the same, but imagine a future where there was no possibility of Se-gi becoming the host of a Zero Gate.

Would the version of himself in that future have lived ordinarily, simply enjoying wealth like everyone else?

‘No.’

He probably couldn’t have.

His nature was to suspect in proportion to his knowledge and analyze in proportion to his suspicion.

Once he recognized the Zero Gate as a threat, he would certainly have made the same choice he had now.

Only after realizing this himself did Jung-woo become even more unhesitant in his answer.

His voice, his gaze—any trace of wavering vanished completely.

A brief silence.

At its end, wrinkles formed on the bridge of Dante’s nose.

“I understand.”

“My sincerity?”

“The reason you get along with Edmond. You’re also a lunatic.”

“I’d appreciate not being lumped in with him.”

“Nonsense.”

Dante immediately strode away, practically sweeping through the air.

A low murmur drifted into Jung-woo’s keen ears.

“Still, he’s not a rotten one.”

He probably thought it was a private muttering.

“Thank you?”

At those words, Dante’s pace quickened slightly.

He seemed almost embarrassed.

The room was clean.

It was a hotel room about the size of the living room and kitchen combined of the apartment Jung-woo had lived in before moving to a house—a modest but well-appointed space with a sofa to rest on, a bed to sleep in, a shower, a tea table, and a coffee pot.

On one wall of the room stood a steel wardrobe that stood out conspicuously.

It was the only gray thing in the room, clashing with everything else, and when he opened it, sure enough.

‘Wasn’t there a movie like this a long time ago?’

Beyond the wardrobe, South Pyongan Province was visible.

He let out a dry chuckle and closed the wardrobe.

The meeting would begin at 1:00.

About forty minutes remained, during which he went to his companions to review the final talking points.

“The problem is Valerius. He’s utterly impossible to reason with…”

“What about the other two?”

“I can’t vouch for Kiran, but Yeji-de is open to negotiation. She would gladly extend her hand if we help eliminate the various threats scattered across the African continent. I’ve already laid the groundwork while you were being shown to your room. We’ll have to see at the vote.”

With the yes votes already exceeding a majority, the key was to confirm as many Ex-grade hunters’ participation in the subjugation as possible during the vote at the end of the meeting.

So far, six were on board; of the remaining three, one had sufficient room for persuasion, and the other two were uncertain.

Unable to relax until the very end, his thoughts multiplied.

“If anyone gives a half-hearted response, we cut them loose.”

Edmond said.

“We don’t need anyone who isn’t fully committed. Unnecessary breathing will break the flow of the hunt.”

He was considerably fired up.

His unusually extreme attitude made it especially pronounced.

He’d better not cause an incident.

Jung-woo was thinking.

“In any case, it’s time to get our answer. Let’s go.”

At Henry’s words, they all headed to the top floor through the vertical corridor.

Along the way, they passed the other members’ doors.

Henry’s bore the emblem of a crossed brimmed hat and cane, Edmond’s featured shattered glass fragments forming the shape of wings, and Hikaru’s displayed triangles and squares overlapping irregularly to create a geometric balance.

Beyond those, they arrived before an emblem depicting a sword and spear crossed against the backdrop of a massive mountain.

Dalkak!

The door opened, and Ak Jinsan appeared.

He stiffened upon spotting Jung-woo, who beamed at him.

“Ah, Supreme Leader! I was wondering where you were—have you been in your room this whole time?”

“Kuh…!”

“Perfect timing. Shall we go up together?”

Ak Jinsan could barely bring himself to meet Jung-woo’s eyes.

His lips trembled slightly, and seeing this, Edmond smirked and asked Jung-woo.

“Did you beat him up or something?”

“I didn’t hit him. We actually played together.”

“That’s exactly what someone who beat him would say.”

Jung-woo felt somewhat wronged.

It was true he had attempted to bind him mentally, but during the process, he had never actually inflicted any meaningful physical damage on Ak Jinsan.

As he glared at Edmond, Henry addressed Ak Jinsan.

“Jinsan, I appreciate your assistance.”

“…Enough. Let’s go up.”

Ak Jinsan strode roughly past Jung-woo’s group.

Even so, he made absolutely sure never to come within a meter of Jung-woo.

They arrived at the council chamber shortly after his appearance shifted the atmosphere.

It was a cage-like space with a very high ceiling.

Black pillars rose like iron bars to support the ceiling, and the lighting, fashioned after analog torches, made the imagery all the more vivid.

Three people were already seated there.

“Kiran, Yeji-de. Good to see you. Dante, I’ve already seen you, so I’ll skip the greeting.”

“Hmph!”

“A pleasure, Chairperson.”

“It’s been a while.”

The plump young man of Middle Eastern descent was Kiran, India’s Sun.

The lean, middle-aged Black woman in traditional African attire was Yeji-de, the Observer of Africa.

Their gazes swept over Jung-woo and Hikaru.

It was likely because this was their first attendance.

Jung-woo exchanged brief nods with them and found his seat.

They were assigned seats.

The top of each chair—whose backrest alone easily exceeded three meters—bore the emblem symbolizing its occupant.

Was this Dante’s taste?

Or his architectural philosophy?

The somewhat austere atmosphere left Jung-woo, once seated, idly pondering such things.

‘They really aren’t close with each other.’

They could have at least exchanged pleasantries, but each sat in their own relaxed posture, blankly lost in their own thoughts.

Had their meetings been like this for decades?

“Now we only need one more.”

The moment Henry spoke.

“My, am I the last?”

A languid, amused voice wrapped around the space.

Jung-woo’s gaze turned toward the entrance.

It was a boy in a somewhat flashy suit.

Though he was well past middle age, he possessed the physique of a boy in his early teens, and his cold silver hair, pale skin, and blood-red eyes gave off an intensely eerie aura.

Valerius Igorevich Bagryanov.

The mad fascist who had resurrected the Soviet Union.

He arrived with a light step and took his seat, at the top of which was an emblem of bat wings coiling around a cross within a falling water drop.

Valerius crossed his legs and rested his chin on his hand.

Eyes the color of freshly spilled blood swept past Hikaru and settled on Jung-woo.

An elegant voice resonated through the space.

“Two unfamiliar faces. The Council has grown richer. How delightful.”

Hikaru’s breathing grew slightly strained.

Beyond her, Henry watched him with the most emotionless expression Jung-woo had ever seen on the man.

Then, steadying his breath, he spoke.

“Everyone’s here. Let’s begin.”

Even then, Valerius continued to stare at Jung-woo persistently.

He wore an inscrutable smile.

Jung-woo did not avert his gaze.

Holding that gaze, he found himself feeling a sense of revulsion.

He knew the reason well enough.

‘Certainly.’

If he had to pick one person in this room who would absolutely never do as others wished, it would be that man.

‘A psychopath… wasn’t that what they called him?’

The term wasn’t an insult but a clinical diagnosis that described the man.

Instinctively, Jung-woo realized that Valerius would be the greatest obstacle to the Zero Gate expedition.