The Predator Devours the Storm

2nd Circle.

Two mana circles were turning around my heart.

One of them was incomplete, but there was no doubt about it—this was the 2nd Circle.

Until just now, I had been mindlessly gobbling up the surrounding mana, shoving it in wholesale. Apparently, an enormous amount of it had accumulated in my body in the process.

There was no other way I could have broken into the 2nd Circle like this.

The moment I recognized the two circles wrapped around my heart, I felt my tension melt away in an instant. I hadn't just solved a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠problem—I had reached an even higher plane.

It was the very moment I allowed myself to feel completely at ease.

The mana that had been churning so unstably began to surge, as if it might spiral out of control at any second.

Wuuuung—

The two circles around my heart crossed over each other, spinning at a terrifying speed. I wasn't even using mana anymore, and still the rotation wouldn't stop.

And I couldn't close the mana channel I had forcibly opened earlier. In that split second, I had lost control of it entirely.

Mana kept pouring in through the passage connecting my mana to the outside world. Past the point where I could hold any more. Still it kept coming.

Heat bloomed from my chest and spread outward, and it felt like my whole body was burning up. Perhaps because I had overworked my mana just moments ago, I couldn't regain control no matter what I tried.

"Hhahk…!"

I clutched my chest as the pain crashed over me. Damn it. This felt bad.

If this kept up, I might lose consciousness. And if I passed out… the mana would run wild, just like that.

'If I lose consciousness, I die!'

"Kkuhuk—"

Mana swirled violently around my body. An artificial wind began to blow once more. A vortex formed with me—the one kneeling in the field—at its center, and the soil around me was being swept away.

Whuuung—

On the empty ground, nothing remained but the raw, howling roar of the wind.

Bong-gu, who had been pacing in circles around me, at a loss for what to do, squeezed his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eyes shut. And then—

Boing!

He leaped onto my back.

"Seo, Seo Bong-gu…! Get off!"

"No! Seo Ji-on hurt! I protect!!"

Even keeping my eyes open was a struggle now. Blood was rushing to my face. If this went on, Bong-gu would be swept away too.

"I protect! Seo Ji-on!"

Who's protecting whom here, exactly—you can barely hold yourself up in this gale?

Before the wind could fling him off, I snatched him from my back and pulled him into my arms.

"Damn it…!!"

There had to be a way out of this. Come on, think! Think faster!!

And that was the moment.

Dding—

The system window flashed before my eyes.

The instant the system window finished its message, light blazed from the body of Seo Bong-gu in my arms. And in a heartbeat, the burning heat began to cool, like steam hissing off metal.

"Haaahk—"

Breathing came easier at once. Even the mana channel I hadn't been able to close felt like something I could bring back under control now. I hurriedly severed the passage linking my mana to the outside.

No more mana flooded in from the surroundings. The gale that had been tearing through the greenhouse softened into a gentle breeze, and the breeze soon died away entirely, as if nothing had ever happened.

The two circles around my heart, too, now seemed fully settled, turning at a leisurely, unhurried pace.

Now, I had truly become a 2nd Circle mage.

The inside of the greenhouse was utterly still, everything having come to an end. I took a moment to savor the silence and steadied my breathing.

Thankfully, it didn't look like Father had come in yet.

Squirm, squirm—

Something wiggled against my chest, and Bong-gu poked his face out. He patted my cheeks, checking whether I was all right, then grinned and declared:

"Me, honey badger Seo Bong-gu! Ate mana, ate lots! Protected Ji-on. And got stronger!!"

Just as he said, he had grown a little stronger than before. I could see that the mass of mana he carried inside him had grown noticeably larger. He was probably at least twice as strong as when we'd first met.

"Sure you are. At this rate you'll tear the whole greenhouse apart in one bite, won't you?"

Seo Bong-gu, having received my praise, nodded his head vigorously.

"I tear all thieves too!"

He even snorted steam from his nose—such a magnificent sight. With all that tension suddenly released, my nerves gave out completely.

I had survived.

"…Pwee?"

"What?"

Bong-gu's ears twitched, and he darted into my bag. Not long after, someone opened the greenhouse door.

Creeeak—

"Huh? The lock's broken? Ji-on, you in here?"

It was Father. Opening the greenhouse door and stepping inside, he muttered, puzzled: "From outside, I could see the plastic flapping around. Where's the wind leaking in from?"

"No, sir. I was running around taking a look at the place. That's probably it."

At my answer, Father turned and fixed his gaze on me. Then, suddenly startled, he rushed over, cupped my face in his hands, and asked:

"You—you're bleeding! What on earth happened?"

Oh no. I must not have wiped off the blood from earlier very well. Seeing him panic like that made me flounder.

"I was running, and…"

"Running?"

"…I fell down."

Damn it. Does it make any sense for a boy my age to trip and fall while goofing off on a run? It probably didn't even pass for a decent excuse. I hung my head low.

Then Father gave my shoulder a hearty thump and said, "You rascal. You're a boy—what's falling down got to do with anything? Don't let it get you down. You hurt anywhere else?"

Ouch.

That stung a little. Who knew a lie like that would actually work? I nodded.

"I'm perfectly fine, Father."

At my words, the bag rustled.

'That's right. Seo Ji-on fine. I protected him.'

'Yeah, yeah. Thanks to you protecting him, he's perfectly fine.'

Clutching the bag with Bong-gu inside to my chest, I stepped out of the greenhouse. In the distance, the real estate agent was running toward us.

The man who had introduced himself as the owner of Golden Real Estate picked up his handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Y-you're purchasing both plots?"

Still dabbing away the sweat, the agent and Father went into the greenhouse together, looked the place over from corner to corner, and began their negotiations. As the two men talked, the agent's face turned green, then white, and then—before long—flushed with color.

"Then I'll contact the landowner about the terms you've mentioned and arrange a schedule!"

It seemed to have been a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠satisfying deal all around.

By the time the conversation with the agent wrapped up, the sun was already sinking low. Leaving behind the agent, who waved us off with his sweat-soaked handkerchief flapping, we headed home.

"Ji-Ji-on, your face is bleeding!!"

Calming Mother's frantic fussing, of course, took a fair bit of effort as well.

Golden Real Estate.

The owner of the agency fancied himself a man of considerable girth, but the man sitting across from him was in a league of his own. He filled nearly the entire two-seater sofa, and the upholstery crushed beneath him looked doubtful it would ever recover its shape. Dressed head to toe in black besides, the man radiated menace just sitting there.

The owner of the agency swallowed hard and dabbed his sweat-damp forehead with his handkerchief.

Black clothes weren't enough—a young man with a mask pulled low beneath a cap. He tapped the map idly with one finger, wearing a puzzled expression.

"…You're telling me a buyer has appeared for this land?"

"Y-yes, sir…!"

The owner answered in a voice taut with effort. The man fell silent, lost in thought.

A prospective land buyer, appearing for the first time in years. And in a few months, they too would likely declare defeat and try to flip the property. Because that land was cursed.

No matter how rich the soil, how generous the fertilizer, how meticulous the care, crops simply refused to grow there. To farmers who lived by the land, it was nothing more than a worthless piece of garbage.

'Is it right to sell it?'

He had listed the property, but he'd never actually expected it to sell. And now, out of nowhere, a call.

Part of him worried that this pig of a realtor was scheming to con some naive farmer into buying it.

…But turning down a willing buyer now meant there was no telling when the next chance would come. Circumstances had changed, and it was no longer easy to keep an eye on that land. He would have to stay abroad for a long stretch of time.

He had treasured it as his grandfather's legacy, but this was as far as that sentiment went. Nothing was truly sold until they met and the papers were signed. So all he had to do was confirm one thing: whether the buyer was some clueless amateur farmer being handed over by the realtor—in other words, an easy mark.

If so, he simply wouldn't sell. He might hire someone to manage it in his stead, but he would not swindle someone who knew no better.

Swallowing a silent sigh, the man spoke.

"Very well. Let's meet and draw up the contract."

"Yes, sir! The buyer's set to meet you at eleven this morning!"

There was something almost fawning in the realtor's voice, but that was neither here nor there. The man heard him out and nodded. Then, rising from his seat, he said:

"I'll go get something to eat before then."

"Y-yes, sir! Safe travels!"

The realtor, too, scrambled to his feet and bowed.

Ding—

The man vanished. A moment later, Hwang Geum-dong, owner of Golden Real Estate, opened his mouth and muttered:

"Ah… but there aren't any restaurants around here, sir…"

Of course, the person who needed to hear those words was already long gone.

The sun beat down mercilessly on the country road. Nothing but fields for as far as the eye could see—not a shred of shade anywhere. There was only the baking, sizzling dirt beneath his feet.

Weee-mee—weee-mee—

Cicadas wailed in the distance. Wailed their hearts out.

And I… was lost.

The man in black, cooking away in the midday sun—Go Jin-mook—ripped off his mask with a whoosh and gulped down air.

"Hoo, hoo—!"

He would endure. He would endure. He had survived environments far harsher than this!

'I have a reputation as a head chef who wrestles fire every single day. I can't be beaten by a little heat.'

Head chef of the Seoul branch of the three-Michelin-star restaurant Château Lanche. A professional among professionals who had endured nineteen years in a kitchen sealed off on all sides by blazing heat. A star chef who had made his face known on every variety show imaginable, even amid a punishing schedule.

Before long, he would overcome this passing crisis, open ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a restaurant of his own, and be reborn as a true head chef. He could not collapse to a crisis that wasn't even worthy of the name.

'A head chef's pride is a heavy thing to carry!'

It wasn't even real fire—just heat, nothing more. A dangerous light kindled in the man's eyes.

I can win this.

Carving that resolve into his heart, Go Jin-mook set off once more. The soles of his feet felt like they were roasting over coals, but he judged that moving fast was the better choice—and he believed he could hold out.

However, there was one thing Go Jin-mook had overlooked:

The simple fact that no single human being can ever beat nature.

"Hahk, huk, haaaahk—"

'Why is this realtor's office in the middle of nowhere?!'

There wasn't a single bustling restaurant anywhere in sight, and even the occasional house gave off no sign of life.

Thud. Thud.

The man's steps grew heavier and heavier. The sweat wouldn't stop flowing. The road seemed to split in two before him.

Thud.

In the end, Go Jin-mook collapsed.

All he could manage was to lie there without blacking out, utterly still—until, a short while later, someone passing along that road found him.

"Oh my goodness?"

The one who found him was the lady Kim Mi-suk.

That is to say—Seo Ji-on's mother.