The Yeon Family Problem
“The problem is Yeon Ga.”
Go Cheolmin had experienced it once before, long ago. Once the Yeon family set a goal, they bulldozed through without regard for common sense or the law. The lives of one or two raiders meant nothing to them.
He rose from his seat and stood before the schedule posted on the wall of the master room.
“Two weeks, huh...”
Typically, after a raid, teams rested for three or four days.
Next came individual training—focusing on weaknesses exposed in the raid or honing existing skills.
A few days before the next raid, the team gathered to sync up, then entered the dungeon.
With the rest period over, they needed at least a week of intensive training. Keeping them far from the theft incident would ensure safety.
“I should dismiss them today.”
The issue was Choi Muhyun. The Yeon family, desperate to reclaim the stolen Cheonroegeom, would surely target him.
After hesitating, Go Cheolmin picked up his phone. He found a number he'd saved long ago but never called and pressed it firmly.
The ringtone seemed to drag on slowly.
―Well, if it isn't you.
A welcoming voice.
“This is Go Cheolmin.”
―Of course I know. It's saved right here in my phone. This must be about Muhyun, right?
“...Yes.”
―I was planning to meet you anyway. When works for you?
“It's almost lunchtime, so how about Cheonghaeok in two hours?”
―Sounds good. See you there.
Go Cheolmin hung up and let out a long breath.
Choi Min-su was never the type to put anyone across from him at ease. He created extreme tension—and reveled in it.
The outside was noisy.
'Did reporters show up or something?'
Descending from the master room to the Uramata Guildhouse parking lot, Go Cheolmin nearly burst out laughing in disbelief.
Dozens of students had flooded the lot and were brawling—in two groups of boys versus girls.
“Quit making a racket and screwing up our training. Get lost. This ain't a playground. Wanna fan-girl? Go do it at the broadcast station, you fangirls!”
A boy shouted, and the kids behind him clapped and cheered.
A sharp-looking girl stepped forward.
“If you wanna be carriers, go back to school and study your asses off. You know my oppa got a perfect score on the CSAT? Any of you blockheads think you can get into Seoul National University? Raise your hands.”
The girls with picket signs roared, while the boys looked deflated.
Go Cheolmin realized they'd all come to the guildhouse because of Kim Jun.
His feelings were mixed—pleasure at the popularity, but unease because it centered on Kim Jun. As a carrier, the more attention Kim Jun drew, the greater the danger.
Spotting Go Cheolmin, the students halted their fight and swarmed over.
“Quiet!”
His bellow echoed through the parking lot, startling them into silence.
“What are you punks doing skipping school?”
“It's vacation, sir.”
They answered in unison.
“...Then study! Why the hell are you here?”
“Came to see oppa.”
“We wanna be carriers.”
Answers flew from both sides.
Go Cheolmin gave what he thought was a solid lecture. To the girls, he explained this was a serious training ground for raiders. To the boys, he said if they wanted to be carriers like Kim Jun, hit the books first.
“What'd you say? You look dumb as rocks.”
A boy muttered, sparking laughter and agreement from the group.
Even the girls joined in.
“You're a total virgin, aren'tcha, mister? Quit lurking and tell us where our oppa is.”
“You little shits!”
Go Cheolmin's face flushed red.
“Whoa, the gorilla's pissed. Run!”
The students bolted from the lot onto the road.
Go Cheolmin almost chased them to the street. Huffing, he returned to the guildhouse and stood before the wall mirror.
He stared at the man in the reflection.
“Dumb-looking? I look just fine.”
* * *
Go Cheolmin finished his explanation.
The group that had gathered in the master room sat stunned, processing the shocking details and their implications.
“To recap: The police and Dungeon Association are handling the theft investigation, so no need to worry. Yeon Ga from Cheonhondan might be involved, but there's zero evidence—just suspicion. You have nothing to do with it.
Focus on building strength for the Changwon raid. Report personal schedules to your team leader. I'll notify through them if needed. Got it?”
“Yes, sir!”
The guild members replied.
“I've got business, so I'm heading out. Train hard—but don't get hurt, no matter what. Dismissed!”
As they clattered down the metal stairs to the first floor, Team Leader Yoo Min-jeong stepped forward.
“Like the master said, speak up if you want personal training time.”
“I'm heading to Jangyang Academy to seriously study the Yungmaseo.”
It was Yeom Sang-taek.
“Jangyang will be a huge help. Great plan. Muhyun, you?”
“Gonna properly learn the Molyeong Geumgangsimbeop.”
“From your dad?”
“Yeah.”
“You're gonna get insanely strong. Guess I gotta step it up.”
Yoo Min-jeong glanced past Choi Muhyun to Skyla, steeling herself.
“And you?”
Calling her noona—who was seven years older—you felt awkward. She wanted to blame Kim Jun for pushing this.
“Haven't touched ice magic in ages, so time to get serious.”
“It's hot out—tough for training. Short time frame, can't even go to Alaska.”
It was getting natural, but Yoo Min-jeong still hated these chats.
“Staying here. Know a good spot for practice.”
“Where?”
“The freezer warehouse.”
“Ah.”
“Where you headed? Costa Rica last time? Cotopaxi's perfect for fire dealers.”
Skyla adapted faster than Yoo Min-jeong—hell, she was enjoying it.
“...Probably Japan.”
“Japan's great. Close enough for lunch trips. Land of hot springs—good for skin too. Best of both worlds. Your fair skin's gonna glow even more.”
Skyla's smile drew one from Yoo Min-jeong too.
Her last glance fell on Kim Jun, the final team member.
“I'll obviously stay and guard the guildhouse.”
Nodding, Yoo Min-jeong addressed the team.
“I'll call once a day. Pick up. Or text me times you can. I'll check training schedules and what you accomplished, so give it your all.”
“Yes, Team Leader!”
The members scattered to pack.
Yoo Min-jeong watched, feeling both relieved and wistful.
It stung to part from her family-like team, but they needed to grow stronger to avoid raid mishaps.
Choi Muhyun spread his arms wide and bear-hugged Yeom Sang-taek.
“If those Jangyang punks look down on you, call anytime. I'll come smash 'em.”
“Got it.”
Choi Muhyun sought Kim Jun.
Kim Jun had slipped away, standing near the guildhouse entrance.
Choi Muhyun eyed Yoo Min-jeong.
Flames flickered in her shaking hand as she shook her head.
Then Skyla hugged the burly Choi Muhyun.
“Survive, no matter what. Cheonhondan's top tanker won't go easy just 'cause you're his son.”
“...Yes, I mean, yeah.”
Releasing the flustered Choi Muhyun, Skyla hugged Yeom Sang-taek, whispering encouragement.
She turned to Kim Jun, standing apart.
“You knew, didn't you?”
“Knew what?”
“That Yeon Ga's behind the theft.”
“Why think that?”
“You didn't flinch at the master's explanation. Neither did Min-jeong.”
“I don't show surprise well.”
His expression unchanged.
“Is that so?”
Skyla smiled slyly.
Kim Jun shrugged.
Choi Muhyun approached Kim Jun, face heavy and serious.
“Got a favor to ask.”
“Shoot.”
“...Nah, later.”
Forcing a smile, Choi Muhyun headed to the parking lot, fired up the Jeep, and sped off.
Kim Jun watched the departing vehicle briefly before entering the guildhouse.
* * *
While the agency rep transferred contacts to his new phone, Choi Muhyun fiddled with the case.
'Should've just said it back there.'
Regret flooded him.
He could've ditched the guildhouse like a coward and properly challenged Kim Jun to a match. But he couldn't say it boldly because... of Kim Jun's exceptional combat sense.
Speed was Kim Jun's edge.
But speed alone wouldn't beat Do Jin-yong. Combat sense might be Kim Jun's greatest weapon—reading foes in moments, exploiting gaps for victory. Unique and brutally effective.
'Gotta get strong enough that even his sense can't touch me. Then we fight.'
“All done, sir.”
The rep handed over the phone.
Choi Muhyun checked contacts on the big-screen, feature-packed model. They seemed intact.
“Um, could I get an autograph?”
The hesitant rep asked.
Choi Muhyun signed silently and left. Still scorching, but the sky held autumn's high, clear blue.
* * *
Stepping from the car, Yeon Gi-chun looked up. Through his sunglasses, the sun glowed blood-red. Closing the door, he eyed the phone agency across the street.
Weaving smoothly through trucks and taxis, he dashed over, flung open the glass door.
“Browsing phones?”
The clerk looked up.
Yeon Gi-chun removed his sunglasses and approached quietly.
“You sold a new phone to Uramata tanker Choi Muhyun just now, right?”
Slow, forceful tone.
“No such thing.”
Couldn't divulge customer info.
“No?”
Snickering, Yeon Gi-chun kicked a stool. The backless round seat slammed into the display case, cracking its edge longways.
“Wh-what the hell are you?”
Sensing danger instinctively, the clerk backed away.
Yeon Gi-chun vaulted the counter lightly.
“...I'm calling the cops.”
“Do it.”
The clerk's phone was already in Yeon Gi-chun's hand. Crushing it with raw grip strength into a metal ball left the clerk speechless.
More shocking: sparks crackling from his palm.
'He's a raider too!'
The clerk finally got it.
“Choi Muhyun's contacts.”
Yeon Gi-chun tossed his phone to the clerk.
“...Got it.”
Transferring from the laptop, the clerk stole glances.
“Done.”
“Good work. Don't pull that shit again.”
Pocketing the phone, Yeon Gi-chun placed his hand on the laptop keyboard. Sparks seeped in, smoke rising soon after.
“Wanna see me again? Call the cops.”
Dropping cash on the display, he donned his sunglasses and left.
* * *
The Jeep stopped at a red light.
Choi Muhyun pulled out his phone, found a name in contacts.
Nam Il-gon.
Hesitating briefly, he dialed.
―Aigoo, a pro calling me? What's up? Hurt bad somewhere? Nah, couldn't be.
Thick, manly voice.
“Wanna move up my schedule.”
―For real?
“Can't?”
―Booked solid for two weeks minimum. Unless something cancels, tough.
“Understood.”
―I can check around if you want.
“Please do.”
Hanging up as the light turned green, Choi Muhyun floored it like a racecar driver.
* * *
The bug planted in the Jeep worked perfectly.
“Move up the schedule?”
Yeon Gi-chun checked the contacts the clerk had kindly transferred.
A familiar name popped up.
Nam Il-gon.
Number matched. No coincidence.
A young raider with an underground fight manager's number? Obvious what that meant. Nothing beat the pits for youthful hot blood.
Recalling his own pit-fighting days, Yeon Gi-chun activated navigation.
A red dot blinked westward—heading home, by the route.
“Time to report.”
He pressed a button on his phone.