“If you’re calling someone more talented than even Monkey… you’re talking about another one of the Ten Wings, right?”

“No.”

“But more outstanding than Monkey?”

Chairman Gwak’s eyebrows arched gracefully. His gaze carried a hint of mockery, as if asking whether he was being toyed with. At his age, well past middle years, and with no martial prowess to speak of, he was openly showing his mild displeasure before the Saber Master. He was holding firm to his stance as the employer.

“Not yet. But I guarantee it.”

The two men’s eyes met.

“He’ll grow strong enough that Monkey won’t even compare.”

“Hahaha. Far stronger than the Ten Wings, you say. That’s hardly something one can dismiss as a joke.”

“I…”

Muyachi’s eyes darkened deeply. His already pitch-black pupils now resembled bottomless wells. In a cold tone, he elaborated.

“…am not one to jest lightly.”

“I know. Of course I do. No one in the City is unaware of your solemn nature. You’re the Mercenary King, after all.”

Chairman Gwak sipped his black tea. Savoring it for a moment, he wiped his lips with his thumb.

“If even you speak of him that way, he must have tremendous potential.”

“…”

Potential aside, the kid was exceptional in that regard alone. That Lee Taebaek had endured his sword strikes ten times using every trick in the book.

He had held back, of course. Still, facing off against the Saber Master was no small feat.

Moreover, during that exchange, Lee Taebaek had only three abilities at his disposal.

Swordsmanship, marksmanship, and magic.

And none of them were lacking. From Muyachi’s perspective, the assassination-focused swordsmanship felt a bit off, but the basics were solid.

Marksmanship? Aiming precisely without trembling against the Saber Master was praise-worthy in itself.

No misfires, hits right where they belonged.

Something impossible without an ironclad mind. Of course, it was thanks to the Mental buff. Anyway.

His true value lay in the magic.

Lee Taebaek wielded Ice Magic.

Muyachi had made his living selling violence and cut down many mages along the way. From common telekinesis or Samadhi True Fire to rare lightning mages even the Magic Tower held in high regard. He’d faced countless spellcasters and devised counters for them.

Even Muyachi had never encountered Ice Magic before. Ignorant as he was about magic, he could tell it was uncommon.

If it were merely rare, I’d shrug it off.

But facing it proved far trickier. Ice Magic froze the seams between movements, blocking them off.

A tricky ability for a martial artist like Muyachi. And the same went for the other Ten Wings. Everyone except the Heavenly Demon and Left Luminary was a fighter.

His conclusion was clear: if Lee Taebaek kept on this upward trajectory, he could become an asymmetrical force capable of rivaling the Ten Wings.

Though who knows when.

The timing was the issue. If other factions caught wind of him and moved to eliminate him preemptively, his talent would wither before blooming.

No, he’d die.

He couldn’t allow that.

That’s why he’d quit the mercenary work he’d done all his life.

Lee Taebaek, I will be the one to kill you.

But not now.

When you’ve fully bloomed.

I’ll kill you at your peak.

Muyachi’s lips twitched faintly. Chairman Gwak watched him with a subtle gaze, then toyed with his teacup as he spoke.

“A bit of small talk, Muyachi. This teacup is Made in China. Chinese-made. You know that? When it comes to such tableware, China is the best in the world.”

“Truly small talk.”

Muyachi schooled his expression.

“Hahaha. Hear me out. I’ll charge extra for this time.”

“I’ll listen intently.”

“I like your honest attitude toward money.”

Clink. Chairman Gwak swept the teacup aside, then pushed it straight off the edge of the table. The black tea spread like blood, even staining Muyachi’s shoe sole.

“…”

“See, Saber Master? Whether it’s the world’s finest porcelain or the glass cups used by lower-district vermin, they all shatter when dropped. That’s the function of a ‘cup.’ Yet people obsess over so-called ‘luxury goods.’ Know why?”

“Social trust, I suppose.”

“Exactly. People vaguely think luxury items must be better than cheap ones simply because they’re expensive. Sure, there’s craftsmanship and brand value, but is it worth paying dozens of times more? From a merchant’s view, I’m skeptical.”

Mid-sentence, Chairman Gwak pulled a cigar from a humidor. He sliced off the tip with a cutter.

“My point is this: even for the same function, the brand matters.”

He struck a match on sandpaper, then repeatedly brought it to the cut end and lit it.

“I don’t take your recommendation lightly, Saber Master. He must be impressive. But what Daesung needs is violence. Violence that makes everyone bow their heads. For that, you need prestige like yours.”

“I get the gist.”

“I didn’t hire you just for your combat prowess. I bought you to deter resistance using the Saber Master’s name. Lesser thugs will cower at ‘Saber Master,’ and Daesung can avoid unnecessary friction, cutting extraneous troop costs. That’s the idea.”

“…”

The chairman leisurely clasped his hands. Smoke rose steadily.

“Say Daesung hires your recommendation. He’ll build fame steadily under our wing, fighting battles, destroying minor assets. We’ll cover those costs.”

“Have you considered he might pledge loyalty to Daesung?”

“Loyalty… loyalty, you say…”

The chairman’s cybernetic eye scanned the past.

“Does such a fervent word still exist? Everyone who swore loyalty to me betrayed me. You’re a warrior, Saber Master, so you might still believe in it. But a merchant like me? No.”

“It’s just a hypothesis.”

“Hm. Still, since you mentioned him directly, I’m intrigued. Tell me his name. I’ll look into it personally.”

“It’s fine.”

Splash. The sound of stepping in water rang out. Muyachi rose from the sofa and turned.

“Farewell.”

The chairman silently puffed his cigar as Muyachi was about to leave the office.

A massive floor-to-ceiling window dominating one wall.

Beyond it, amid the heavy clouds, pale flakes began drifting down—one, then two.

Pure white, delicate crystals. Heaven’s tears. Snow.

It was June now. Less than a month since an early summer arrived ‘because of someone.’ Yet the City’s sky welcomed it, raining snow instead of rain.

“Heh, the end times must be near. Snow in summer.”

“…”

Muyachi’s pupils widened slightly. He stood frozen, silently observing the anomaly for a long while.

“Haha!”

He let out a short chuckle.

Chairman Gwak feigned surprise. The Saber Master, said to be the driest among the Ten Wings, had shown emotion.

“Something ring a bell?”

Muyachi half-turned, gazing at the chairman.

“Extraordinary strength, rampant gods.”

He murmured lowly.

“The ancients avoided explaining anomalies whenever possible.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Then, if you’ll excuse me.”

“…”

The Saber Master gave a courteous nod and left the room.

There had been an achievement.

A tremendous one.

“Is this what the Divine Pill of Extraterrestrial Origin does?”

A hollow laugh escaped him.

Lee Taebaek clenched and unclenched his fist. Color drained from his palm, then returned.

His senses sharpened enough to vividly feel blood flow, even cellular movement.

What is this omnipotence?

No wonder wuxia novels obsessed over divine pills.

Lee Taebaek keenly empathized with Jianghu folk’s greed for fortuitous encounters.

“How was it?”

Jasbi asked eagerly. She’d stood guard, waiting desperately for him to awaken.

“Not bad, I suppose.”

“I stood guard myself, and you say ‘not bad’! The effects should be even more pronounced than usual!”

“Good grief. Overinflated ego.”

“It’s not overinflated!!”

Jasbi pouted indignantly.

“While you were circulating energy, Creator, I thoroughly researched the Divine Pill of Extraterrestrial Origin! And that’s not all—I slaved to create the optimal absorption environment tailored to its properties!”

“Environment?”

I tilted my head, and Jasbi struck a pose, hands on hips, chin raised triumphantly.

“Every Divine Pill has unique properties.”

“I know.”

Yeah. No kidding. I’m the developer.

“People overlook this, but elixirs and divine pills are ultimately food. Eating sea urchin rinsed in seawater versus plain water makes a difference. Each has optimal consumption methods, especially high-quality ones that react strongly to environment.”

“Go on.”

“The Divine Pill of Extraterrestrial Origin you took boosts purity over sheer internal energy quantity. Delicate, in a word. So maintaining constant temperature during energy circulation is key.”

“Hm.”

Jasbi jabbed a finger toward the window. Lee Taebaek turned, bewilderment crossing his face.

“What the hell. Snow in summer?”

“Exactly!”

“You’re an AI. Figure it out.”

“Even the weather bureau gets it wrong constantly.”

…Same on Earth or here.

“Midway through your circulation, snow suddenly starts falling, right? Fine, turning the room into an igloo like Eskimos live in—I get that. But a blizzard? In midsummer? Explain!”

“Don’t nag.”

Why ask me to find the cause anyway?

“You’re the Creator!”

“You don’t even know why you call me that.”

“But my electronic brain, infinitely close to truth, insists!”

“Can’t predict weather with that brain.”

Jasbi puffed her cheeks. Her eyes welled up again.

After days together, her human act was convincing.

One artificial tear fell, then her eyes dried instantly. She turned, spat on her eyes… pitiful.

Peak science reduced to that.

If Siesta, which spared no expense on android development, had seen this, it would have foamed at the mouth.

The bickering stalled like the frozen room.

“Ah.”

Jasbi broke first, her human pretense exhausting her.

“Right. A friend came by downstairs?”

“Friend? What friend.”

“That rough-looking guy.”

“Dark-skinned?”

Jasbi nodded vigorously.

“Yes.”

“Must be Hyeonseong.”

Lee Taebaek pushed up using his knee.

A jolt shot through his lower body. Legs numb, he staggered; Jasbi rushed over, supporting his side.

“…Fine. Just pins and needles.”

Why do energy circulation sitting anyway?

I’ll figure out lying down. Using Jasbi as a crutch, he descended to the first floor.

Sure enough, the visitor was Kang Hyeonseong.

Lee Taebaek was glad to see him after so long.

“Taebaek.”

But the news he brought was anything but.

“We’re screwed.”

“What?”

You bastard.

“Screwed, I said.”

Explain, damn it. Explain.