Chapter 35

The world is divided into two types.

The strong and the weak.

Those who have, and those who have not.

Han Min-oh belonged to the strong—and the haves.

He was, after all, the second son of Han Yeon Group.

How many people in South Korea didn’t know of Han Yeon Group?

One of the top ten conglomerates in the country, it was a leader in civilian industries ranging from hotels and department stores to entertainment, food, and liquor.

But the family had also become a symbol of absolute power, handed down over three generations across fifty years.

They masked their power with familiarity, yet in both politics and business, they were regarded as the most dominant bloodline.

The second son of Han Yeon Group.

A birthright anyone would envy—a so-called “Heavenly Dragon.”

Yet Han Min-oh’s life was anything but smooth.

‘Han Shin. The firstborn. Exceptional in every way.’

Because of his older brother—Han Shin.

Han Shin was like a child of the gods.

There was nothing he couldn’t do once he set his mind to it.

He learned anything dozens of times faster than anyone else.

Calling him a genius wasn’t enough.

On top of that—

He was sharp and had a terrifying intuition for reading emotions.

Unlike Han Min-oh.

‘No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t catch up.’

Han Min-oh was compared to Han Shin in every aspect.

People wondered if he had the same genius or special talent.

It’s true he got some attention when he was younger.

But none of it—

Not one thing!

Matched even the tip of Han Shin’s toes.

Far from being special, Han Min-oh was painfully ordinary.

‘…And yet I was okay with that. If hyung ran the company, Han Yeon Group would surely become the top in Korea.’

But he had been content.

The successor of the group was always meant to be Han Shin.

With his talent, Han Shin would elevate the company to new heights.

―I’m not interested in company matters.

…The problem was Han Shin’s attitude.

He rejected the very notion of being the heir.

When Han Shin was just ten years old—

Both sides of the family tried to persuade him endlessly.

Eventually, after relentless pressure, Han Shin declared:

―If there’s a bodyguard who can beat me in a fight, I’ll consider taking interest in the company.

A challenge.

He meant it literally—anyone was free to fight him.

A veteran bodyguard was selected to face him, but didn’t last even three seconds.

A guard trained in every form of martial art. Handpicked for the job.

Yet after just three months of training, Han Shin’s combat skills knocked him out with ease.

Despite the gap in size and strength, the defeat was overwhelming.

‘…Hyung’s true talent lies in his body.’

And not just in combat.

Han Shin later faced countless masters and specialists.

And what he realized—

Was that when it came to using the body, Han Shin was a transcendent being. A monster.

National athlete?
Gold medalist?
World record holder?

If Han Shin had stepped into the public eye, all world records would’ve been rewritten.

The only reason it wasn’t known was because the company made sure to prevent leaks.

‘I have everything. Yet nothing at all.’

To outsiders, Han Min-oh looked like a man who had it all.

But in truth, he had nothing.

―Tch. If only you were a little more outstanding.

His father’s eyes—filled with scorn.

Han Min-oh wasn’t even a broken spare part compared to Han Shin.

Everyone only looked at Han Shin.

Eventually, Han Min-oh chose seclusion.

“I told you over and over. Your body doesn’t belong to you alone.”

“Bodyguards would only weigh me down.”

“These aren’t ordinary guards. They’re handpicked ‘monster hunters.’”

“Not interested.”

“Shin!”

Han Shin faced the chairman of Han Yeon Group with an expression as blank as ever.

Han Min-oh had always envied that calm, unbothered demeanor.

‘If I had died in the Abyss…’

Would they have cared?

Han Min-oh imagined what would happen after his death.

…Han Shin, his father, and the rest of the family probably wouldn’t react much.

Especially Han Shin—he had always looked at Min-oh like a bug.

A pathetic, powerless worm. Something beneath even notice.

That cold stare was terrifying.

Whenever he stood before Han Shin, he couldn’t even open his mouth.

He simply bowed his head, shoulders hunched.

‘Damn it.’

He had come back from the dead.

Couldn’t they at least ask if he was okay?

Rage welled up inside.

Almost in a trance, Han Min-oh lifted his head and shouted clearly:

“Father! Hyung! I’m here!”

“……?”

“……”

Only then did their eyes shift toward him.

His father’s gaze said, ‘What’s gotten into this one?’
Han Shin was still expressionless.

But even that was a huge change.

He normally looked at him with disgust, as if ashamed to share the same bloodline.

“What did you summon me for?”

“…It’s about your security.”

The chairman nodded.

Han Min-oh asked again.

“Is this because of the Abyss?”

“Yes. Until the situation settles, stay in the ‘Safe House’ with the bodyguards.”

“The government still hasn’t made a decision?”

“It seems they intend to stay minimally involved.”

The world was in chaos.

Weapons didn’t work on the monsters.

And the [Abyss], that hellscape, had suddenly descended upon reality.

Everyone had awakened to powers—so the government was shifting responsibility to civilians, trying to avoid direct involvement.

They had to survive this unprecedented crisis too.

Every man for himself.

Each person had to find their own way to survive.

All the conglomerates could do was hire strong [Awakened] bodyguards for 24-hour protection.

Even other major CEOs were securing Safe Houses to protect their families.

“You…”

Then, for the first time, Han Shin spoke.

He walked over with firm steps.

Rip!

“……!!”

Han Min-oh’s clothes were torn apart by Han Shin’s bare hands.

He was so shocked he couldn’t speak.

He had no idea why Han Shin was suddenly doing this.

“H-Hyung, what are you doing?!”

“You… survived the Abyss?”

“……Yes.”

Han Min-oh barely managed to answer.

Then Han Shin’s eyes swept over Han Min-oh’s body before he opened his mouth again.

“Both arms and all ten fingers were severed and reattached.”

“……”

The scars were faint, but visible if one looked closely.

With careful observation, it wasn’t hard to guess.

But what Han Shin said next was even more shocking.

“Your arms were torn off with brute force, and your fingers were severed all at once by something sharp. To heal wounds like this with only those faint traces remaining… you’d need at least a [High-Grade Elixir]. Who gave you a High-Grade Elixir…?”

“…I encountered a Devil Merchant.”

“You made a deal?”

“He tried to kill me.”

“Of course. To one of them, you’d be worthless. So these wounds were made by the Devil Merchant, I assume. But then how did you survive?”

“Someone saved me.”

“Who?”

It was the first time in his life—

Han Shin had shown this much interest in Han Min-oh.

But he was genuinely curious.

‘There’s no way this guy could’ve survived the Abyss. Yet he’s standing here.’

From Han Shin’s perspective, Han Min-oh should’ve died in the Abyss.

A worthless person couldn’t possibly survive an encounter with a Devil Merchant.

It was one thing to be saved—but for someone to go as far as using a [High-Grade Elixir] to save Han Min-oh?

That was incomprehensible.

Acquiring such an elixir required an immense price.

Han Min-oh had no talent, a weak mind, and lacked persistence. To invest something of such immense value in saving him—by Han Shin’s standards—was simply impossible.

Then Han Min-oh replied.

“I have no obligation to answer that.”

“……”

Blunt. Unfiltered words.

Han Shin was quietly surprised.

‘He’s changed.’

Han Min-oh had changed.

He used to be unable to even make proper eye contact.

But now, he was staring straight at him—almost as if challenging him.

There was a change in his very nature.

Maybe he’d grown bolder after surviving the brink of death.

Maybe the [High-Grade Elixir] had altered his body.

But something about it felt off.

‘Doesn’t seem like the elixir was the only factor…’

A sudden thought hit him—it might not be just the elixir.

Who in the world would invest so much in someone like Han Min-oh?

Interesting.

‘Still, a bird without wings can’t fly.’

But that was all.

You can paint stripes on a pumpkin—it won’t make it a watermelon.

Even if Han Min-oh had changed, he was still just Han Min-oh.

He was born a bird without wings. No matter how much color you add, or how hard he tries to run, he simply can’t fly.

It’s too early to rejoice over a shallow glimpse of hope.

Half-baked potential only leads to deeper despair in the end.

Ding!

At that moment—

A bell rang out, and dozens of system messages appeared.

* * *

《‘Dungeon Abyss’ has been cleared!》
《Congratulations! All Abyss Dungeons summoned in ‘South Korea’ have been cleared.》
《‘South Korea’ is the only nation to achieve a ‘Perfect Clear’!》
《All citizens of South Korea will receive a ‘Gold Box’!》
《Out of reverence, the Abyss will not appear on South Korean soil for one day.》
《Please enjoy this time.》

* * *

“……”

Han Shin furrowed his brow.

Someone had accomplished what he had deemed impossible—a Perfect Clear.

Even the [Creators] showed reverence, which said everything.

To declare a full one-day Abyss-free period across the entire country—

Knowing how arrogant they were, Han Shin couldn’t help but feel disturbed.

‘…Who are you?’

He had never felt such defeat.

Whoever stole his arrangement and killed the [Water God]—

Han Shin was dying to know who that person really was.

* * *

As soon as the final dungeon was cleared—

Park Chan-woo returned home and collapsed from exhaustion.

“Urrghhh…”

He groaned instinctively.

He couldn’t move a single finger.

Clearing thirteen dungeons without rest—it was only natural.

But there was a faint smile on his lips.

Countless messages floated before him.

“It’s insane…”

The rewards for achieving a Perfect Clear—were absolutely insane.

* * * * * *

Translator’s Note:

Hey everyone, just a quick heads-up — starting next week, chapter releases might be a bit inconsistent for a while. My wife and I just had our baby, and I’ll be prioritizing taking care of them during this time. Depending on how things go, I might still be able to post chapters here and there, but I can’t promise a regular schedule just yet.

I really appreciate your patience and support. I’ll do my best to keep updates coming when I can, and I’ll let you all know once things start settling down and we’re closer to getting back to a steady rhythm.

Thanks again for sticking with me and this story. It means a lot.