Chapter 569
Thud. The sound of the door closing behind him echoed like thunder. At the same time, Song Cheon-woo—his massive build belying his seventy years—stumbled.
Swish, tap.
Neither his overwhelming mana nor all the experience and composure he’d gained from a lifetime of hardship meant anything right now.
As he clung to the wall and stared at the floor, a pair of black dress shoes suddenly stepped into his view.
“Are you alright?”
A businesslike voice pierced his ear. Song Cheon-woo looked up to see who the shoes belonged to and gritted his teeth.
“Does this… look alright to you?”
His eyes flashed with rage, and Chief of Security Go Sewon bowed his head.
“Sorry if I sounded insensitive.”
“Drop the empty apologies. Before I snap your neck right here!”
“That’s not a method I’d recommend. You have nothing to gain and everything to lose.”
With those words, Go Sewon gently waved his hand.
Sensing something was off, the security team members who had started to move at the far end of the hallway froze in place.
“They’re my subordinates, but as you know, Director, they’re quite skilled. When push comes to shove, they won’t hold back.”
“You—”
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I just hope you don’t make things worse.”
With his hand pressing the wall, Song Cheon-woo’s grip tightened. The marble wall, reinforced with magic, cracked like a spiderweb.
With bloodshot eyes fixed on Go Sewon, Song Cheon-woo spat out his words.
“So you kidnapped my family, who have nothing to do with this?”
“For that, your defenses were thorough. I assume you anticipated the possibility.”
Even with the entire security team attacking, there were two casualties.
Considering they were some of the best in the Ares Guild, the word “only” shouldn’t come before “two casualties.”
“I’m sorry about what happened to your family. But if you had really suspected something, you should have brought in even more firepower to protect them.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. I apologize.”
Go Sewon meant it. Song Cheon-woo was already like an old lion with its days numbered—there was no need for him to twist the knife any further.
‘If he thinks it was just a slip of sympathy, maybe he’ll believe me.’
He was a father, too. The son he had for the first time after forty, and the second child due in a few months—he already treasured them more than life itself.
Go Sewon would give his life for his children’s safety and happiness. That’s what it means to be a parent.
But Song Cheon-woo had weighed his ambition against his family’s well-being.
Then again, if he’d truly thought of the worst-case scenario, he’d never have risked making an enemy of Seok Go-jun.
‘…Not that I have any right to judge.’
Go Sewon felt like a pathetic villain.
For more than a decade, he’d lived less like a Hunter and more like a fixer.
Ever since catching Lee Jeong-ryong’s eye and joining the security team, his main targets hadn’t been monsters—they’d been people.
He was the one who’d given the order to kidnap Song Cheon-woo’s family and cleaned up the aftermath.
‘Who am I to lecture anyone?’
In the end, everyone was just filth in the same sewer.
Song Cheon-woo, on the brink of retirement, had let his passion lead him into danger; Seok Go-jun had wielded his blade without regard for consequences; Go Sewon had become the tool to kidnap Song Cheon-woo’s family.
‘A war among villains. In the end, there are only winners and losers.’
And he was nothing more than an accessory.
As Go Sewon clicked his tongue bitterly—
Grab!
A hand, impossibly strong for a seventy-year-old, seized him by the collar.
“Chief!”
“It’s fine. Just hold your positions.”
Stopping his team, Go Sewon looked calmly up at the hulking Song Cheon-woo.
“I already told you. There’s more to lose than to gain.”
“You—You dare lay hands on my family…!”
“The Vice Guild Leader can hear us inside. I don’t know what the two of you discussed, but I hope there won’t be any more bloodshed.”
It meant: Don’t provoke Seok Go-jun, who’s holding your family’s lives in his hands.
Song Cheon-woo immediately understood, his eyelids trembling.
With clenched teeth and a glare at Go Sewon, his grip finally loosened.
“That was the right choice.”
“…Shut your mouth. If it were up to me, I’d smash your face in right now.”
“I’m sure you would.”
A bitter smile touched Go Sewon’s lips. He’d have done the same in that position.
And, judged objectively, even after twenty years away from the front lines, Song Cheon-woo was still a formidable force.
His ambition had simply exceeded his ability. The fact that he’d once been Lee Jeong-ryong’s political rival was proof enough.
‘That’s why they resorted to such dirty tactics.’
He didn’t like Seok Go-jun’s approach this time, but dirty as it was, it would be effective.
Song Cheon-woo would be eliminated soon—so naturally that no one would ever suspect a thing.
“Please follow me. I’ll escort you outside.”
Go Sewon bowed slightly and took the lead, with Song Cheon-woo glancing back at the tightly shut door before following.
Step, step.
With the team called off, only the footsteps of the two echoed down the corridor.
The brief silence was broken by Song Cheon-woo’s question.
“What you said earlier. Was it true?”
“…?”
“I asked if it’s true that you don’t know what conversation I had with Seok Go-jun.”
After a moment’s thought, Go Sewon nodded silently.
“I see. Well, according to what I found, you’re not exactly a master strategist.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Seems you’re not as trusted as I thought, or maybe there are things he wants to hide even from his closest people.”
As Go Sewon frowned, Song Cheon-woo let out a weak laugh.
“Hey, Go Sewon.”
In the span of a short conversation, he seemed to have aged ten, no, twenty years as he spoke in a hollow voice.
“There’s something called a sense of proportion. You know what I mean?”
“…If you’re criticizing the Vice Guild Leader, I’d advise you to stop there.”
“Criticizing, huh? That’s a much gentler word than I expected. Far too mild for someone like Seok Go-jun.”
“I understand how you feel. But no one involved in this has the right to judge anyone else. I know you haven’t exactly lived a spotless life either.”
“Haha, that’s true. There was a time I would use any means to reach my goals. But it was never like this.”
Hearing Song Cheon-woo’s empty, almost crazed laugh, Go Sewon fell silent for a moment.
He realized that what the man wanted to say wasn’t just about the kidnapping.
‘What is this?’
His heart thudded, a current raced down his spine.
This was a warning. Every instinct told him not to listen any further. But his body ignored his mind’s warning.
“What do you mean by ‘sense of proportion,’ Director?”
“Losing even the minimum humanity—becoming a monster.”
“…What?”
Song Cheon-woo’s steps stopped. Staring silently at the teleportation magic circle leading outside, he spoke.
“The boundary between human and monster. Seok Go-jun… he’s already become a monster.”
Suddenly, the old man’s empty eyes drifted into space.
Retracing the memories of his brilliant past, Song Cheon-woo walked weakly toward the magic circle, leaving behind a single desperate plea.
“I apologize for what I did to you. So please, at least don’t let those kids die in vain.”
That was the last thing he said.
Flash!
Before Go Sewon could respond, the teleportation magic activated, and a dazzling light swallowed up Song Cheon-woo’s form.
Left alone, Go Sewon looked back in confusion at where Song Cheon-woo had just stood.
A corridor made entirely of white marble.
And at the far end, a tightly closed door—and inside, someone probably sipping wine with a satisfied smirk.
‘Just what have you done…?’
Go Sewon muttered deep inside.
For once, A Section, always bright, felt like a pit full of darkness.
* * *
Training hall.
Who knows how long I’ve been cooped up in this place, what they now call the training room.
A day or two. Maybe three.
Locked away in a place with walls on all sides and controlled temperature, I’d lost all sense of time immersed in martial arts.
Even with a smartphone, I hadn’t checked it, and maybe because of that, no one from the Peace Guild had come looking or tried to contact me.
Talking about it makes me sound like a complete loner. But that’s not it.
…Probably not.
‘Skeleton King. He hasn’t come by at all since then either.’
That means he’s probably handling things well, which is good news—but it also means the emergency rescue team is busier, and more Gates are showing abnormal symptoms, so I can’t be completely happy about it.
In that sense, the fact that I’m close to finishing what I set out to do is definitely a bit of good news.
‘Though it’s still incomplete.’
Maybe because it’s my first time trying something like this, the process so far hasn’t been easy.
Or maybe the current state of crisis has put extra pressure on me to create something exceptional.
‘I feel like it should be good enough as it is… Should I just take the leap?’
I was repeating the same worries I’d had dozens, maybe hundreds of times when—
With a familiar mechanical sound, the locked training room door opened.
“There you are. I need your help.”
Step, step.
Polished combat boots. Blue spandex and a skull-marked shield.
I stared at him with a gaze colder than the snow atop King Sejong Station in Antarctica.
“Look at this damn guy.”
“You heard from Director King Fury, right?”
“…Now you’re playing two roles?”
“Hehe. As a true citizen of the United States, I have to be ‘King’-tin America, don’t I?”
“This bastard keeps changing his name however he likes. You looking to get beat back into the ice?”
“I could do this all day.”
Swish, bang!
A spear of white flame shot past his neck and pierced the training room wall.
The Skeleton King glanced at the spear embedded up to the hilt, then at me, and muttered,
“All day might be a bit much…”
“Cut the crap. What do you want? If you’re just bored, you’re dead. Seriously.”
He quickly answered.
“N-no, it’s not that. It’s a mission. Mission!”
“Mission?”
“That’s right, despicable human.”
He nodded and continued.
“It’s not a normal mutated Gate. The magic power reading is enormous.”
Damn it.
