Chapter 106: Even the Absolute Being Is a First-Time Dad
Absolute One Is New to Fatherhood Episode 106
"So you've finally reached 'Gi.'"
Kang-jun slightly furrowed his brow.
The voice was strange...
Yet the face remained indistinct.
"All the narratives until now were for the sake of Gi."
Kang-jun, who had been studying him intently, suddenly looked around.
The scenery beneath his feet had changed.
The entire area had fragmented like a kaleidoscope—
Each shattered surface reflected a different scene.
All of them were moments from Kang-jun's past.
The time he had spent in Anux.
Hundreds of years.
The torment of homesickness.
The days stained with blood, endured solely for survival.
The so-called Creator God had condensed that long, arduous time into a single phrase: "For the sake of Gi."
If he were to write it all down, it wouldn't take days—it would consume an entire lifetime.
How could such layered suffering be reduced to a single line?
What meaning did this "Gi" hold that it could summarize everything?
"At last..."
The voice continued.
"The prologue of the world has begun."
The chaotic scenery before Kang-jun's eyes vanished in an instant—
"For yourself..."
This time, fragments of recent, happier memories began to surface on the shattered pieces of space.
"For everyone..."
Ordinary, cozy moments—so mundane that he might forget them by tomorrow.
Gathering with his family for dinner, watching variety shows together...
Playing with his daughter, sharing sweet snacks—
Everyday life.
Memories of what he himself called "everyday life."
Kang-jun considered these moments his reward.
He had fought so fiercely for this.
"Was it all for this happiness?"
The thought alone lightened his heart.
Fragments of those simple yet precious moments filled the shattered surfaces.
Then, the strange voice echoed again.
"For the Watching Eyes..."
Kang-jun's consciousness sank once more.
"Protect these things..."
The Creator God's voice continued.
"And move toward the next word."
With that, his consciousness flickered out.
Wait...
He had so many questions.
But why?
It was as if someone had sealed his lips.
Just a moment...
The words wouldn't come.
And so—
His flickering consciousness faded into obscurity.
His distant mind finally returned.
"Hm."
Kang-jun looked down at his feet.
Where the discarded ■■■ should have been—
There was no trace left.
Thud.
He drove Chojigenken into the ground.
His grip had gone numb from holding the sword for so long.
Though he had won without suffering any major injuries...
"We must have exchanged at least a dozen blows..."
Among all the opponents he had faced, the discarded ■■■ was the only one who had lasted that long.
Kang-jun recalled the system message that had appeared before his eyes the moment he defeated it.
[You have taken one step closer to the truth of this world.]
In that void where he had arrived without understanding, Kang-jun had been reminded not of some grand truth—but of what he needed to protect.
Everyday life.
The Creator God had left him with cryptic words: to protect these things and move toward the "next word."
Protecting his daily life was for himself, for everyone—and for the "Watching Eyes."
"The Watching Eyes..."
Kang-jun's gaze turned skyward.
The dawn shimmered over the ruined city.
"The Watching Eyes..."
It was a name mentioned repeatedly by those who had vanished from his grasp.
Yet he felt no presence—no gaze upon him.
If these "Watching Eyes" truly existed but remained beyond his perception...
"Then they must not be enemies."
He felt certain they wished for his happiness—and the happiness of those connected to him.
Otherwise, protecting his daily life wouldn't be for their sake.
"Are you alright?"
At that moment, Jung Yoon-chan and the other S-rank hunters, who had been keeping their distance, cautiously approached.
"As you can see, I'm fine."
Kang-jun pulled Chojigenken from the ground, scanned the devastated city, then turned to Yoon-chan.
"You know what to do."
He was entrusting him with the aftermath.
"Well..."
Yoon-chan hesitated, biting his lip.
With so many witnesses this time, he couldn't guarantee a smooth cover-up like before...
"I'll handle it."
But he had no choice.
"Good. See you later."
Kang-jun gave the hunters one last glance, said, "I'm leaving," and vanished without a trace.
"Take care..."
Yoon-chan bowed deeply at the waist, and the other hunters followed suit in a line.
"Just... who is that man?"
So Cheon-pung, deputy leader of the Cheonpungmun Guild and China's 5th-ranked S-class hunter, muttered in awe.
"Ah—Father!"
She suddenly remembered her father and the other hunters who had volunteered to enter the Calamity-grade Gate before the Wave Phenomenon began.
But the gate had already closed.
Then, Yoon-chan issued orders.
"Please maintain the lockdown on the Lujiazui Financial Trade Zone a little longer and gather all witnesses."
They needed time to sort things out.
Inside an officetel in Yeoksam-dong.
[Breaking news:]
The young anchor on the TV, left on before sleep, continued speaking.
[Last night, the Calamity-grade Gate that appeared in Shanghai's Lujiazui Financial Trade Zone was successfully suppressed...]
[Authorities have hailed this as a joint achievement by Korean, Chinese, and Japanese hunters...]
[However, it has been confirmed that China's top-ranked S-class hunter, Wang Zhuo of the Blood Kirin, along with numerous others, perished in the operation...]
Lee Ji-hee, barely awake, rubbed her eyes and murmured.
"Wow... that's a relief."
The Calamity-grade Gate that had thrown the world into panic last night had apparently been contained.
Then she gasped.
"Ah!"
She grabbed her phone from the bedside table.
"The appointment..."
She had completely forgotten—today was the day she was supposed to meet Seol's father for a one-on-one (?) discussion.
"He'll probably cancel or postpone..."
Given last night's events, she assumed the meeting would be called off or rescheduled.
But then she saw the message:
[Seol's Father: Today. 1 PM. Kindergarten. Front gate.]
Sent early this morning, it showed no intention of canceling.
"Well, since it's been resolved..."
She couldn't help but chuckle.
"If someone else saw this, they'd think it was a duel challenge..."
Checking the wall clock, she stretched and got up.
She needed to get ready quickly to make it on time.
"What should I wear...?"
Ji-hee usually preferred staying home on her days off, enjoying complete relaxation.
But today...
"It's nice to be out for once."
The sunlight was warm.
Spring really is spring.
How long had it been since she last enjoyed the flowers?
"Huh?"
As she walked toward the meeting place, she suddenly remembered the weather forecast from a few days ago.
"Didn't they say the cherry blossoms in the city had all fallen because of that typhoon from Japan?"
Puzzled, she arrived at the kindergarten's front gate—
"Teacher!"
She spotted Seol and her father waiting and waved cheerfully.
"Seol! Sir!"
Kang-jun, as always, bowed deeply in greeting.
"Good morning, Teacher."
Ji-hee smiled.
"So, about the cherry blossoms..."
"Yes."
"I heard all the petals in the city are gone."
Kang-jun nodded.
"I know."
Then, after a pause, he added:
"Fortunately, I've heard there are still plenty left in Jeonju."
"Jeonju?" she repeated.
He nodded again.
"Let's go."
As he strode past the gate toward the kindergarten's interior, she asked, confused:
"Wait, are we really going all the way to Jeonju?"
"Is that a problem?"
"No, but it'll take hours..."
Then she added:
"And why are we heading into the kindergarten instead of the bus terminal or train station...?"
Seol answered for him.
"Cuz it's here!"
"Huh? What is?"
"Daddy's pwane! The swow fwight!"
Ji-hee blinked.
"Plane...?"
Her gaze turned toward the kindergarten's interior—where a hangar and runway were located.
She had always wondered:
Why on earth did the director build a runway and hangar inside a kindergarten?
No way...
She looked at Kang-jun.
He answered casually.
"We'll be taking Seol's private jet, stored in the Snow White Kindergarten hangar."
Ji-hee paled.
"Good heavens..."
Only now did she truly grasp the extent of this father-daughter pair's wealth.
Though, of course—
This was merely the tip of the iceberg.