Chapter 21
Starbucks Cafe.
A few minutes before my appointment with Gija-ryeong.
I ordered an Americano and scrolled through the internet portal. Just yesterday morning, it had been plastered with news of the Hangju Bridge Gate Break, but now the COEX Gate story had buried it.
"The Association's taking a beating."
Articles and comments alike were overwhelmingly negative toward the Hunter Association. All because they'd screwed up the rank assessment.
"Hmm..."
My face twisted in a frown.
It wasn't a welcome development for me. Sure, the Hunter Association was rotten, but this was excessive. Unnaturally so. It felt like all the arrows were pointed squarely at them.
Not just the Gate rank misjudgment—there's an even bigger story that's been buried.
Articles detailing the thugs' atrocities inside the COEX Gate were rare as hen's teeth, and even those were light on details.
Still, I could confirm the thugs' identities and their guild affiliation.
A hollow laugh escaped me.
"What a joke..."
They belonged to a proper guild. None other than North Ocean Guild, ranked fifth in Korea.
If I were to roughly outline the current state of Korean Hunter guilds:
Unyielding number one: R&Y.
Ranks two through five fluctuated wildly based on their Hunters' achievements.
So right now, North Ocean had a strong last-place image. They'd been stuck at fifth for a while.
Among the top guilds, that is.
The fact that Hunters from such a place had pulled off armed robbery was shocking enough. And that ugly truth had been smothered before it could surface.
North Ocean must've clamped down on the media.
In my previous life, I never believed R&Y acted alone in my brother's death. It had to be a multi-guild conspiracy.
R&Y might've handled the execution.
But the groundwork and cleanup? Other guilds pitching in.
There had been almost no news articles on the death of the number one Hunter, Seo Boseok. I knew R&Y, who could drop a bird from the sky, weren't exactly media manipulation experts.
"That's where other guilds shine."
This reeked of North Ocean. They were the guild that poured the most ad money into newspapers.
Empty cans make the most noise, huh.
Anyway, as the runt of the top guilds, they were perfect for first strike. Going after number one first? Not enough prep, too much risk.
"Hoo."
My head heated up.
I brought the coffee to my lips, but all I saw was the black stain burned into the bottom.
Already empty.
Speaking of which, where the hell was Gija-ryeong? For a reporting gig like this, showing up early was basic etiquette, right?
"...Says the guy working contract at a broadcast station."
I stared into the cup at the lukewarm coffee dregs. That was my situation in a nutshell. Pitiful, but no way was I scraping it up.
I'd nearly had an extraordinary education but ended up a high school grad. Always a loser in the job market. Then some school senior I'd never met wrote me a recommendation letter, landing me a contract gig at the station. Parachute drop.
Even if it was cheap pity, it was my lifeline.
But.
Ties between stations and guilds were commonplace, but mine was especially rotten.
My workplace.
I'll burn it to the ground with my own hands.
North Ocean skulking in the shadows too.
As I stared blankly at the cup, an idea sparked. Something I wanted to test.
Red Slime.
I'd felt its utility in the COEX Gate. Lately, I'd been thinking if used right, its potential was limitless.
"She's late anyway. Let's try it."
I covered the cup with my palm.
Then I liquefied the Red Slime I'd kept shaped like a watch and pushed it into the cup. As the splashy sensation tickled my palm, I murmured the activation word.
Hardening
Feeling the sticky grip on my palm, I lifted my arm. The cup followed the arc perfectly.
Got it!
I'd fixed the Red Slime's shape. As long as it had a mold like this cup, shapeshifting was possible. Fatal flaw: it guzzled my blood.
Is a cup my limit...?
Anemia haze was setting in. I'd even planned to test the COEX special reward.
...Later it is.
Even after leveling up and expanding my blood pool, anemia still hobbled me. Power as cheat-like as the risks were vicious.
Jingle.
"Welcome to Starbucks!"
The cafe door opened, and Gija-ryeong shook her short, boyish hair as she scanned the room.
"You're already here."
She spotted me right away.
In a crowd like this?
Oh.
I had my arm raised.
"I'd have recognized you without the arm wave."
She ribbed me as she approached.
Always with the snark.
"I raise my hand crossing crosswalks too."
"...For real?"
"Yep. Dead serious."
What was that look? She was the one late.
Annoyed, I cut straight to business with her card. Tight schedule ahead.
"I'm going to expose corruption between Korean Hunter guilds and a certain broadcast station. That's the deal I mentioned at Hangju Bridge."
"...!!!!"
Gija-ryeong eyed the man before her carefully.
Seo Wonseok.
She already knew he worked at a broadcast station—the pale-under-eye guy.
Tailing sources was Reporter 101. Ethically dicey, but she'd take a civil suit over criminal charges and headaches verifying info later.
Anyway.
That day.
At Hangju Bridge, Seo Wonseok had proposed a deal.
The gist was brief.
—I work at KBC. You're digging, right? I can help.
Short.
No fluff to dilute the impact on her psyche.
But the timing and place? Wildly out of left field.
Which made it hook harder.
A deal whispered like a dying breath amid life-or-death stakes. Words carried extra weight.
Gija-ryeong nodded. She'd lost the SD card to an anonymous tipster, but a juicy scoop would make up for it.
But.
"KBC has financial ties to North Ocean. Frequent ones."
This was overkill stimulus.
Way beyond cheap dopamine shorts threatening news.
"W-Wait a sec."
She plopped down fast, glancing around, steadying her pounding heart.
"...Everyone in broadcasting knows about KBC and some guild's money ties."
"I know."
"And it was North Ocean?"
"Up to you if you believe it."
Seo Wonseok rubbed a coffee stain off the cup with his thumb.
"As you know, KBC holds exclusive rights to Abyss Gate Emergence Forecast."
"...Yeah. Ten years ago, their chairman lobbied with astronomical cash."
Folks wondered less about tomorrow's weather than tomorrow's Abyss Gates.
Rain? Brief traffic jam. Gate? Dry sky turns deadly.
Thus, Abyss Gate Emergence Forecast was a golden goose for stations. Guaranteed ratings—sweet as can be.
Stations played chicken for it back then.
Winner: Seo Wonseok's KBC.
Their chairman was a chaebol. Threw money at lobbying. Even bought satellites that couldn't be private property.
Burned cash like mad to make more.
In the end, it's all money.
Seo Wonseok continued.
"HTN, your station, jumped into that exclusive rights race too, right?"
"Before I started—heard a ton of seniors got axed. Couldn't recoup costs."
"KBC's the same."
"...Figures. Oh, hold on. Lemme grab coffee."
"Go ahead."
"Wonseok, no refill? I brought the corporate card—order freely."
"Takeout on the way out then."
"Got it."
Gija-ryeong hustled off and hustled back with coffee.
"Shall we continue?"
Modern man's potion, sipped intravenously.
"Before that, mind if I record?"
"Handwritten preferred."
"Sure."
She pulled out notepad and pen without fuss.
Seo Wonseok went on.
"The cash their chairman spread was astronomical. Dozens of ads wouldn't break even."
"Yeah. Take out cars and ads, not much left."
"If bleeding out like that, what would you do?"
"...?"
He nodded at the coffee.
"Transfuse, obviously...?"
"That's why KBC cut a deal with North Ocean."
To squeeze the juice.
"Sells Abyss Gate Emergence Forecast info to North Ocean for big bucks. Precisely, a cut of mana stone profits from those Gates funnels to the chairman's Swiss account."
"...Ah...!!"
"KBC tips them off pre-forecast on prime Gates. First-come-first-serve for Gates—being there early gives the edge."
"Other guilds or stations find out? Total chaos."
"Count on you."
"Hmm..."
Gija-ryeong wavered.
Nuke surpassing dynamite. Would need corroboration.
But even if KBC denied furiously, half-win. News was stimulus over truth. Getting tongues wagging was key.
Upper brass won't fire me over article heat.
HTN, chicken-game loser, paid dearly. Chronic cash crunch, endless layoffs. Seniors indoctrinated rookies with grudges against KBC.
...Great hook. Got sources? I could write a novel.
And Seo Wonseok offered to provide. She'd verified his KBC employment via hotline. Why refuse a mole?
Gija-ryeong paused thoughtfully, then bit her lip.
"One question."
"Shoot."
"Unrelated to KBC, but what's your tie to Hunter Seo Boseok?"
"Family."
"Family?"
"That's all on that."
Under the table, Gija-ryeong clenched her fist.
She slammed her cup down hard on purpose, then extended her hand for a shake.
"Deal. Let's do it."
"Info drops in person at cafes like today—I'll show and retrieve on-site. Handwritten then too."
"My hand's gonna hurt."
Gija-ryeong smiled faintly.
Jackpot.
Seo Wonseok relaxed his shoulders.
If recruiting her flopped, revenge walked. He'd gauged her tenacity from future knowledge.
No other reporter gets this intel spill.
One weight off.
"Off the record, one thing."
Gija-ryeong, staring blankly, hesitated before speaking.
"Sorry for snapping that day. Occupational hazard... Should've thanked you first..."
Seo Wonseok blinked.
Unexpected.
"Weird."
"Reporter apologizing?"
Fair.
First time seeing it.
"Nah, the thanks. Heard more in three days than a lifetime."
"...That's why it's weirder. Exposing KBC-North Ocean too. What're you after, acting like you're sacrificing for me or others? Charity? Or some angle?"
Seo Wonseok chose his words carefully.
"A better tomorrow than yesterday."