Chapter 732
Civilization is convenient. You can store vast amounts of data on a smartphone smaller than your palm, and with a few flicks of your fingers, share whatever you want with everyone.
Sure, I’ve been restricted by advanced civilization more than once, but at least this time, it worked in my favor.
“Jin Taekyung, do you have the file on you right now?”
Just a few minutes ago.
A chuckle slipped out as I recalled Team Leader Choi Minwoo’s Telepathic Transmission in my ear. I shook the smartphone in my hand at Huginn, who was frozen like a statue, as if greeting him.
“See this?”
The phone’s light flickered in Huginn’s golden eyes. On my personal social media account screen—an account I’d created months ago at Team Leader Choi Minwoo’s request, then never touched—the four characters [Posted] were displayed.
“As expected of the Vice Guild Leader’s office. The Wi-Fi speed is on another level. It doesn’t look like much, but the file’s pretty big.”
“…Mr. Jin.”
His voice sounded like it was boiling.
I blinked with innocent eyes and asked back.
“Huh? What?”
“What on earth are you doing?”
“Being cute.”
In an instant, his face flushed red. Huginn took a deep breath, then spoke in a calm voice.
“Erase it now. It’s not too late.”
I murmured with a deliberately serious face.
“Hmm. Should I? I’m actually kind of scared, too.”
“Wrong choices can be corrected.”
“It’s not as easy as it sounds. The world’s scary these days. It’s probably spreading everywhere already.”
Bzz. Bzz. Beep.
Before I could finish, my smartphone vibrated nonstop. Anxiety settled on Huginn’s face as he realized those vibrations were sharing notifications.
“It’s only been a few dozen seconds. It’s still manageable.”
“Oh? Really?”
“I promise.”
“But people are going to curse at me, right? For drawing attention and then deleting the post. I already threw out so much bait, it won’t end with a little swearing.”
“For now, just announce that the Smiling Mana Cultivation Method needs some improvements—no, shouldn’t you delete it as quickly as possible instead of wasting time like this?”
At Huginn’s urging, I sighed.
“I want to, but one thing keeps bothering me.”
“Tell me. I’ll solve it for you.”
“What should I eat for dinner tonight?”
(T/N: DOPAMINEEEEEE RUSHHHH. HAHAHA. PEAK RAGEBAITING LOL )
“…….?”
“Dinner menu. What should I eat so it’s obvious I ate well? What do you think, Team Leader Choi?”
Beside Huginn, who’d stiffened in place, Team Leader Choi Minwoo answered carefully.
“Let’s have kimchi stew.”
“Kimchi stew?”
“Yes. Kimchi stew with lots of pork. With white rice.”
“Heh, you know your stuff.”
The moment I said that—
Crack.
The sound of bones grinding echoed from someone’s tightly clenched fist. Huginn, trembling for several seconds, spoke in a voice sunk deep.
“You insist on making… a foolish choice.”
I shrugged and shot back.
“Why? You don’t like Korean food?”
“I promise you. You will definitely regret it.”
“If you say so, I can’t help it. Then instead of kimchi stew tonight, let’s go with soybean paste stew. What do you think, Team Leader Choi?”
Team Leader Choi Minwoo nodded.
“I’m fine with anything. I’m hungry, too.”
“That’s because you’ve been listening to nonsense since early evening. Barking is only cute once or twice, but it’s exhausting to keep hearing it.”
I looked at Huginn and added,
“Especially when it’s not my dog, but some neighborhood dog.”
“I don’t know who the owner is, but this is terrible. Who lets their dog out without a leash or muzzle these days?”
Muttering to myself, I glanced at my phone.
Five in the afternoon…
It was about time to eat, but for some reason, I didn’t feel hungry today.
And the reason was probably—
Bzz. Bzz. Beep.
Those sharing notifications, still ringing without pause.
“Team Leader Choi, how many followers did my account have? I only made it and never really checked.”
Team Leader Choi Minwoo answered calmly.
“As far as I know, it’s over five hundred million.”
“Five hundred million? That’s a lot?”
“It’s a globally famous platform, regardless of race or country. Of course, almost half are Chinese.”
“Oh my. I should thank the Arch Lich.”
Huginn, listening to our conversation, spoke in a cold voice.
“According to something I once heard, there’s a Korean proverb: ‘Repairing the barn after losing the cow.’”
“I guess you didn’t hear it from a Korean. It’s not a barn. It’s a cowshed.”
“Barn, cowshed—what does it matter? The important thing is that you two made the worst choice today.”
“Well. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“I guarantee it. You will lose everything soon. And then there will be nothing left to fix.”
At Huginn’s harsh words, I chuckled.
“I can’t tell if this is a crow or a dog the more I look at you.”
“……..Mr. Jin.”
“You’re just a servant delivering a message, but your tongue’s too long. If you want to say more, bring your master. And tell him to stop acting like he’s some kind of god.”
The moment I finished—
Whoosh.
Wind swept in from nowhere.
The enormous Mana pouring out of Huginn’s entire body writhed.
As expected, and more than expected—powerful enough that no one could deny him as an S-class Hunter.
But that overflowing force stopped abruptly at Team Leader Choi Minwoo’s quiet words.
“I cannot take responsibility for what happens next.”
“If you are prepared, do as you wish, Mr. Huginn.”
A brief silence fell.
Swoosh.
The surging Mana slowly subsided.
Those golden eyes, radiating a chilling coldness, and the hand twitching to pull something from his coat, returned to rest.
Thud. Thud.
After straightening his slightly rumpled clothes, Huginn spoke stiffly.
“I have committed a discourtesy. I apologize.”
At the clean admission, I smacked my lips.
It was a shame I couldn’t smash that neat monocle, but this was as far as we should go. The friction we’d already created here today was enough.
‘There’s no need to provoke him further.’
The Odin Guild was an undeniable giant.
And the bigger the body, the darker and heavier the shadow.
Even Huginn, right in front of me, was an unknown figure to the outside world. It wasn’t easy to guess how many hidden S-class Hunters the Odin Guild had.
And other giant guilds would likely stand with Odin, too.
In this situation, half-mangling Huginn’s face had more drawbacks than benefits.
Team Leader Choi Minwoo knew that exactly, and so did Huginn, who’d briefly lost his composure.
“I must return now. I hope to see you again soon.”
Huginn, clinging to his clumsy gentleman act to the end, left the room with meaningful words, and Team Leader Choi Minwoo didn’t forget to add one last line.
No—to be precise, it was a bluff.
“I will remember the will of the Odin Guild clearly. Both Jin Taekyung and I. And my maternal grandfather will feel the same way.”
“……..I understand.”
Surprise, or doubt.
With an unreadable emotion in his eyes, Huginn disappeared as he was.
Click.
Team Leader Choi Minwoo stared silently at the closed door, then muttered,
“It’s starting now.”
“Well, I figured they’d have someone watching anyway. There was no reason to hesitate, since we announced it would be released tomorrow.”
“It’s more blatant than I expected. And…”
Trailing off, Team Leader Choi Minwoo glanced at Huginn’s empty seat and continued.
“The reason they sent a messenger wasn’t only the Smiling Mana Cultivation Method.”
“You mean.”
“I got the feeling he came to confirm someone’s absence. Something as important as the Smiling Mana Cultivation Method that will be revealed to the world tomorrow—or something even more important to them.”
I closed my mouth and quietly spoke one name in my head.
‘Cheon Tae-min.’
A living savior. An unprecedented Hunter who never existed before and would never appear again.
If it became known that he—revered by the world, judged untouchable by force alone—was in a situation where he couldn’t step forward, the enemies lurking in the shadows wouldn’t hesitate to strike.
“But information about his condition is top secret.”
Only six people knew Cheon Tae-min was in a vegetative state.
Team Leader Choi Minwoo and me. Song-Yi and Im Jeok-jung. And Skeleton King and Magic Johnson.
The ones who knew the truth before were already dead. Lee Jeong-ryong. Song Cheon-woo. And Seok Go-joon.
Past and present, the truth about Cheon Tae-min was something that could never be allowed outside.
And Magic Johnson—who had no choice but to ask for help—was someone Team Leader Choi Minwoo trusted enough.
Wasn’t he the one who immediately moved Cheon Tae-min out of the secret area and took measures with all kinds of protective magic?
‘Wait. Magic?’
As I stiffened at the thought that flashed through my mind, Team Leader Choi Minwoo nodded.
“Do you remember what Mr. Johnson said in Ares Guild’s Area A?”
“…….Magician.”
“Yes. Lee Jeong-ryong had a helper. Mr. Johnson said a great mage-class magician built Area A.”
“Then maybe.”
“There’s every possibility the secret was leaked from the start.”
“And if they already know that—”
Team Leader Choi Minwoo took a breath and continued.
“It could be a tough fight. Much more than we expected.”
But strangely, despite the seriousness of his words, his tone and expression were calm.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
I scratched my chin and answered.
“Um. Maybe it’s just me, but you look kind of relaxed for someone saying that.”
“Yes?”
“No, it’s like your words and actions don’t match. You used to prioritize safety first, but you didn’t even blink and used Grandfather’s name as a bluff just now.”
Team Leader Choi Minwoo blinked at my words for a moment, then chuckled.
“Of course. Isn’t it obvious?”
“No. How is that obvious?”
“Because Jin Taekyung is here.”
“…….Huh?”
“No matter how strong a hand the enemies bring out, I have the joker card called Jin Taekyung. That’s why I can’t help but be bold.”
I couldn’t find an answer for a moment, and the smile on Team Leader Choi Minwoo’s lips deepened as I sat there babbling like a mute.
“Ah. And…”
“And? What else?”
“I’m hungry. Let’s have kimchi stew for dinner like we planned.”
Thump. Thump.
After patting my shoulder, Team Leader Choi Minwoo grabbed his coat and left the office.
I stood there blankly for a moment, then watched his back with a dumbfounded look.
Team Leader Choi Minwoo has changed, too. He wasn’t originally this kind of person.
But, well…
‘It doesn’t feel so bad.’
Muttering to myself, I moved to catch up with him.
Even now, the smartphone in my pocket kept vibrating without pause.