The Blue-Eyed Buddha's Invitation
At Geumseong headquarters, the one whose eyes went wider than anyone else's was naturally Geum Soo-ah.
"T-That makes no sense! D—Mr. Chairman! Doing that to Kim Mu-saeng... What!?"
"...May we understand this as an intention to forfeit scouting Awakener Kim Mu-saeng, Mr. Chairman?" Yoon Pyo asked, looking just as bewildered.
The reports detailing Kim Mu-saeng's unquantifiable ability and staggering strategic value had already crossed the chairman's desk. Both of them had clearly witnessed how fond Geum Byeong-cheol was of the young man. All that remained was direct recruitment, negotiating compensation—or rather, if the chairman favored him that much, there wouldn't even be any haggling. A blank check, paid out to whatever sum Mu-saeng named. They had assumed that was the natural course of action, yet this was the verdict?
Geum Byeong-cheol merely offered a sly grin and countered with a question of his own.
"Why do you two think I convened this conference in the first place?"
"Well... that's..."
Neither Geum Soo-ah nor Yoon Pyo knew the full truth yet. They did not know Kim Mu-saeng's genuine awakened ability, nor did they suspect the existence of Wahsh. It was a secret Geum Byeong-cheol had kept hidden even from his own daughter and his most trusted right-hand man: an Administrator of the Tower.
Bring Kim Mu-saeng into Geumseong? Especially in his current state? That would actually be dangerous. Since it was something that could not be concealed forever, forcing him under their umbrella was the last thing Geum Byeong-cheol wanted.
Then what was the most effective course of action? Geum Byeong-cheol had already reached his conclusion. It was a certainty born from having sat across from Mu-saeng and spoken with him face-to-face.
"Besides, if it's that kid... heh heh, he'll definitely bleed them dry."
And not just what Geum Byeong-cheol himself could offer.
"Are you referring to... the Eight Seconds, sir?"
"That man certainly seems brazen enough to pull it off, but still..."
Discerning what he needed most, identifying where his deficiencies lay, figuring out who could provide the solution, and deciding precisely how to extract it—Geum Byeong-cheol had determined that Kim Mu-saeng was more than capable of handling every step of that calculation. That conviction was what had prompted this decision.
"What if Mr. Kim Mu-saeng joins hands with one of the other factions instead?" Geum Soo-ah pressed, unable to shake her lingering unease.
Kim Mu-saeng would certainly manage to walk away from any encounter with the Eight Seconds without losing a single shred of advantage, obtaining whatever he set his sights on. But what if, against all odds, he decided to formally affiliate with one of them? What if he became an Awakener of Windbloom, or a tester for Metalline, or a registered student at Réveil Grande École before resuming his climb up the Tower? What would they do then?
Geum Byeong-cheol merely shrugged, letting out a soft chuckle.
"A man has two hands. If he can clasp several partners at once, all the better, isn't it?"
"What? No! You know that isn't what I meant!"
Geum Soo-ah flared up in protest, but she could not press the matter any further. In a fraction of a second, the atmosphere radiating from Geum Byeong-cheol completely transformed.
"In any case, leave that fellow be. Soo-ah, Pyo, the two of you focus on your own duties. Ensure the conference concludes without incident. You'll need to keep a vigilant eye out and investigate thoroughly—not just the guests who arrived, but the movements of those who stayed away."
With his orders shifting toward securing the event, Geum Soo-ah and Yoon Pyo immediately transitioned into their briefing, as though they had already anticipated every potential point of friction.
"Yes, sir. We have already confirmed reports that a substantial contingent of Awakeners from the Vietnamese and Philippine branches of One Way Group have entered the country."
"The same applies to Thailand," Geum Soo-ah added. "While Korea One Way Group has remained quiet on the surface... there is no telling what will happen if Chairman Lee Jung-ki joins forces with their Southeast Asian networks."
Listening to their report, Geum Byeong-cheol let out a low rumble of amusement.
"Heh heh, it won't be on that level. We have nothing to fear from small fry like that."
Ordinary attendees looking to make a name for themselves? Or open adversaries plotting harm against Kim Mu-saeng? Threats of that caliber could be neutralized at will.
"...Pardon? Then what should we—"
"The Eight Seconds."
Geum Byeong-cheol's curt reply sent the gears in Geum Soo-ah's and Yoon Pyo's heads spinning rapidly. It was an established premise that the Eight Seconds would attempt to contact Kim Mu-saeng; their earlier conversation had made it clear that Geum Byeong-cheol had deliberately orchestrated that very scenario. Why, then, was he warning them now to be on guard against the Eight Seconds?
A moment later, both of them grasped his true intent.
"I'll reinforce our communications grid and immediately raise all transmission security protocols to the highest clearance," Geum Soo-ah said.
"I will contact the relevant counterintelligence authorities at once," Yoon Pyo concurred.
The Eight Seconds did not consist solely of the four titans currently gathered on Korean soil. There were those who had not yet arrived—and those who had no need to set foot here in the first place to exert their terrifying influence. Those were the exact monsters Geum Byeong-cheol was commanding them to watch for.
Across television broadcasts, traditional news outlets, online communities, and internet search engines alike, every spotlight was intensely focused on the global Awakener Conference hosted by Geumseong.
[Are you truly not attending that conference or whatever it is called, Kim Mu-saeng?]
"Why bother?" Mu-saeng replied flatly.
He harbored little interest in the grand gathering itself. He had already wrung the necessary growth methodology out of Geum Byeong-cheol, validated it through direct practice, and even devised a superior path forward on his own.
[There might be valuable information to be gained—]
"Wahsh, when I already have you, what kind of quality Tower intel could I possibly get from people like them?"
[...Kkyakyakyat! True enough! Depending entirely upon my magnificent self is indeed your wisest course!]
"Heh, sure. Believe whatever makes you happy."
What point was there in dragging himself into that crowd anyway? The Eight Seconds were gathered there—monsters boasting prowess comparable to Geum Byeong-cheol himself. Parading Wahsh in front of their perceptive gazes without cause carried no tangible benefit.
[Somehow, your words sound loaded with thorns... Kkwak! So? Where are we going now?]
Having parted ways with Park Hyun-gu and completed a full round of equipment maintenance, Mu-saeng was steering his car toward a destination far removed from any conference hall.
"Dungeon 12."
[Lacking confidence?]
"Clearing it normally wouldn't be an issue, but... this time won't be a standard run, will it?"
It was preparation for the 12th floor. More importantly, he wouldn't be climbing it alone. Alongside Park Hyun-gu, there would be at least one other person—perhaps even several.
[You certainly did not train like this for the 11th floor, kkyakyakyakyat!]
"Floor 11 was a fortress defense stage. Awakener tents were supplied as stage items, and I knew ahead of time that I could just stash Hyun-gu-hyung inside one and lock him down. But the 12th floor isn't like that, so—hm?"
What preparations would be required to lock his companions' contribution rates firmly at zero percent? He needed to inspect Dungeon 12—an exact environmental replica of the Tower's 12th floor—with absolute thoroughness. Yet before he could finish voicing his thoughts, he caught sight of something unexpected.
A crowd? There's no way a celebrity would show up here. What's going on? Who is that?
As he pulled his sedan into the public parking lot adjacent to Dungeon 12, a bustling clamor was already drifting through the air. The moment he stepped out of the vehicle, the excited voices of Korean Awakeners assaulted his ears.
"Do you really not accept foreign admissions!?"
"We welcome them warmly," a dignified, aged voice answered. "Provided, of course, that one demonstrates sufficient potential."
"My personal record is Floor 29! My solo best is only Floor 21, but my build is entirely specialized for party play! Every Awakener who's climbed with me swears that I provide support before they even have to ask—"
"Non. If your specialty is party coordination, you must have breached the 40th floor at the very least."
"Then how about me, sir!? My peak record is Floor 44, and my solo record is Floor 25! Surely someone of my caliber—"
"Had you accomplished such a feat prior to turning twenty years of age, that would indeed meet our baseline criteria."
A horde of Korean Awakeners was clamoring fervently for a chance to join his institution, only for their impassioned appeals to be calmly and politely dismantled by that calm, grandfatherly voice.
The conversation itself had nothing to do with Mu-saeng. His immediate instinct was to bypass the commotion and head straight into Dungeon 12. However, the sudden squawk from his companion made that impossible.
[...What in the world is that? There's another one of those beastly things over there!]
That beastly thing. Wahsh was referring to someone on par with Geumseong's chairman, Geum Byeong-cheol. There was another one like him here?
Only then did Mu-saeng's gaze penetrate the dense, shifting throng to lock onto the central figure commanding the crowd's attention. He had been obscured earlier due to his modest stature, swallowed up by the towering climbers surrounding him.
"...That's—"
An elderly gentleman sporting a majestic white beard that tumbled down toward his collar, paired with striking, tranquil blue eyes. Mu-saeng recognized him instantly.
The Eight Seconds.
Transcendent Awakeners said to possess catastrophic destructive power capable of wiping a nation off the map within eight seconds. Whether that moniker was hyperbole or literal fact didn't matter to Mu-saeng, nor did he care what media sensationalist had coined the phrase. What was beyond dispute was the absolute renown and terrifying might commanded by anyone bearing that title.
Naturally, since it was not an officially designated international ranking, the roster fluctuated slightly depending on who compiled the list. Yet regardless of who drafted the rankings, there were a handful of undisputed titans who appeared on every single registry without fail.
The man standing before him was one of those undisputed apexes.
Bearing a profoundly gentle smile, the blue-eyed elder turned toward Mu-saeng and called out across the plaza.
"Monsieur Kim!"
He spoke as if greeting an old acquaintance—or more precisely, with the effortless certainty of someone who already knew exactly who Mu-saeng was.
Watching the figure approach, Mu-saeng murmured beneath his breath.
"The Blue-Eyed Buddha...?"
This was the very man about whom a young Geum Byeong-cheol had once grumbled, "That old codger is too filthy to fight; I refuse to bother." The headmaster of France's premier institution for elite Awakeners, Réveil Grande École.
A transcendent master who could conceal even his personal climb record—information that even Geum Byeong-cheol had laid bare—from the penetrating sight of Mage Maia's Goggles!
"Do you care for madeleines, Monsieur Kim?"
The Blue-Eyed Buddha produced a golden-brown pastry from his coat as warmly as a doting grandfather offering a treat to a favored grandchild.
When Geum Byeong-cheol had been in his fiery youth, this man had already been an elder. And today, decades later, he remained an elder still. To an uninformed bystander, his current physical appearance seemed scarcely different in age from Geum Byeong-cheol himself. Considering the vast gulf of time that had passed since their legendary clashes, it was an almost unbelievable defiance of aging.
...Putting everything else aside, he can even mask his biological age?
To think that even an artifact like Mage Maia's Goggles could not peel back that single detail. Countless global publications frequently ran investigative profiles on him, yet every single article cited a different estimated age. He was a true first-generation Awakener whose comprehensive profile remained entirely cloaked in mystery.
"Ah. Yes, thank you."
Though caught off guard, Mu-saeng accepted the proffered pastry without outward suspicion. Even in that brief exchange, the calculations in his head had already clicked cleanly into place.
He wouldn't pull anything hostile here. Not with the Blue-Eyed Buddha's public temperament, and certainly not under these circumstances.
It was not merely a matter of relying on the man's benevolent reputation. They were standing right at the entrance of a national dungeon, and Hugo's arrival in South Korea for Geumseong's international conference was already headline news worldwide. There was zero chance a figure of his stature would make an unprovoked move against him in broad daylight.
Hugo maintained his peaceful, serene smile. Mu-saeng, however, had no intention of indulging in hollow pleasantries.
"Is there something you wish to discuss with me?"
He already had a clear idea of why the titan had sought him out. For his part, Monsieur Hugo showed no inclination to dissemble. To the gathered onlookers, it must have appeared as though the French headmaster was merely staring intently into empty air.
"Indeed, I do. A matter of great importance."
The Blue-Eyed Buddha was looking straight at the small, yellow rubber duck floating beside Mu-saeng's shoulder.
I knew it. He isn't surprised in the least. Of course he wouldn't be.
The sole reason the Eight Seconds had dropped everything to fly to Korea on such short notice was Geumseong's emergency summons. Expecting that Hugo already possessed a baseline awareness of his situation, Mu-saeng had made no desperate effort to cloak Wahsh's presence.
[What are you glaring at, old bag of bones? Showing off that you've got one foot in the grave? Regardless of your airs, you are still nothing more than a puny human.]
Perhaps, deep down, Mu-saeng had harbored a petty desire to watch Wahsh insolently sneer at one of the venerated Eight Seconds.
Yet Hugo showed no irritation. His expression remained as untroubled as a mirror-smooth lake as he quietly delivered his proposal.
"Monsieur Kim. Would you care to enroll as a student at Réveil Grande École?"
The moment those words left his lips, an audible gasp swept through the surrounding crowd.