The Torn Pledge
We don't know anything about that sort of thing?
"That's how it turned out, apparently."
"I see..."
After hearing the story from Glass, I began to realize just how many problems I now had to resolve.
The biggest of them was how to handle "that thing" currently with Gwon-sun.
It went without saying that if its existence reached the higher-ups as things stood, the situation would tangle itself into an ugly knot. Setting aside the matter of the 13th Guild during the Pyongyang reclamation battle, the simple fact that this was a being presumed to have returned from Abyss to human meant it could be hauled off to a laboratory as a living experiment the moment word got out.
And that... was something neither Gwon-sun, who still refused to leave its side, nor I myself could ever accept.
A precious person you thought was dead, returned by some miracle, only to be put through something like that... Even I couldn't allow it.
Having reached that conclusion, I felt the need to start cutting a real deal in earnest. Fortunately the adjutants and guild masters had already agreed to hear my proposal and discuss the road ahead, so the odds of success looked solid.
I pulled out my phone and called her.
"Are? Yes—come right now. We have somewhere to go."
"..."
The recovery capsule in front of her, and the figure bound inside it receiving treatment...
Yu Gwon-sun could not tear her eyes away from the face of her long-time friend and comrade, Choi Sonbin.
...She came back. She really came back. I thought I'd never see her again... never... and yet...
Two full days had already passed, and the reality of it still refused to settle. Her consciousness remained hazy, but simply looking at the friend who had returned alive filled Gwon-sun with a quiet, almost redemptive comfort.
Of course she knew perfectly well that mountains of trouble still lay ahead. Yet no matter what threat rose up, she kept repeating the same vow to herself in this moment:
No matter what happened, she would never again lose the friend sitting before her.
Which means right now is the most dangerous window. One wrong move and the military will drag Sonbin off as an experimental subject whenever they feel like it. If that happens, I have to be the one who stops them...
From bitter experience she knew soldiers—especially the ones at the top—were not to be trusted. Blinded by ambition, they treated human lives like flies and would stab anyone in the back the instant it suited them. The people here seemed a little better than most, but Gwon-sun fundamentally refused to place any faith in the military as an institution. She could not afford to lower her guard for even a second.
So she kept a sword at her hip, ready for the worst.
Then—
Rattle-rattle!
"...!"
The sound of a door sliding open reached her ears. Gwon-sun's eyes sharpened as she turned toward it.
A familiar face stepped into view. The instant she recognized him, a thin thread of relief loosened the tension in her expression.
"...Oh. It was you, Adjutant? You could've at least called first."
The only man in the world she truly trusted. At his appearance Gwon-sun finally let her wariness ease, and behind him she saw Lee Are and Glass as well.
"You two came too? So—did the cleanup go all right? What did they say? Sonbin still hasn't woken up..."
"...Jogus."
"...!"
Lee Jinhyun spoke with a gravity that was nothing like his usual tone. The shift alone was enough to send a cold prickle of foreboding through Gwon-sun.
She trusted Adjutant Lee Jinhyun, yes—but she also knew he was not omnipotent. He could deliver perfect victories on the battlefield; when it came to the filthy undercurrents of the upper ranks, even his reach had limits. And that serious look on his face suggested something had already gone wrong.
Something involving her friend. Her precious person. Choi Sonbin.
"...Looks like you've got something to say. Spit it out."
Gwon-sun steeled herself. She felt sorry for everyone involved, but she was already preparing for the possibility that she might have to make a choice none of them would like.
Looking at her, Lee Jinhyun spoke in a quiet, perfectly clear voice.
"Pack your things. As soon as you can."
"...!"
The adjutants and guild masters had gathered for the post-battle debrief. Facing them stood Adjutant Lee Jinhyun—the man who had effectively won the war—and two of Dreamouth's A-class hunters whose combat power rivaled most S-class.
"So... you're asking us to keep the existence of that Abyss—no, of 'that woman'—a secret?"
"Yes. Exactly."
"..."
The adjutants and guild masters fell silent, weighing the request. Watching them, Jinhyun carefully laid out the case he had prepared.
"From the military's overall perspective, she is without question an extremely valuable experimental subject. But before that, she is a victim of an incident that happened under military authority—and she is also someone precious to another person. As a human being... I do not want to force any more suffering onto someone who has already been abandoned and tormented enough."
With those words he held out a document. Adjutant Song Dana, seated as the group's representative, took it and began to read.
"This paper certifies that every single combat merit from this battle belongs entirely to all of you—not to Dreamouth. It's regrettable that this is all I can offer at the moment, but I would be grateful if you would show us leniency."
"Hmm..."
Combat merits were, for any soldier, the equivalent of hard currency. High merits meant promotions, better treatment for one's unit, and—once the front lines quieted—direct conversion into fame for hunters who also worked in entertainment. It was the same principle that once turned Olympic medalists into television stars.
Lee Jinhyun was offering to hand every last scrap of that credit over to them. They were Black Hunters, mercenaries rather than regular military, yet a record of merits—especially merits from a victory of this scale—carried enormous weight. It meant priority on high-level contracts and the ability to demand far higher fees. In a sense he was surrendering a right that money itself could not buy. The guild masters and adjutants' expressions flickered.
Then—
"...Hmm."
"..."
They exchanged silent glances. A decision passed among them without a word. Song Dana acted on it.
Riiip!
"!"
Right in front of them she tore Jinhyun's written pledge clean in half. Looking at the faintly stunned Lee Jinhyun, she spoke in a cool, level voice.
"Regrettably, we cannot accept that. The victory in this battle belongs first and foremost to Adjutant Lee Jinhyun and Dreamouth. We will not steal credit that is rightfully yours."
"Kh..."
On the surface the words were flattering. To Jinhyun and the hunters, however, they sounded like a flat rejection of the request to protect "her."
But then—
"Ah, and one more thing. You asked us to hand something over... If you mean the corpses of those dragon-headed ones left after the battle, those are research materials that must go to the labs. Please give up on them."
"...What?"
The curt addendum made a strange expression cross the faces of Jinhyun and the hunters. Song Dana continued as if nothing were amiss.
"If we're talking about the remains of that Abyss, there's nothing else left, is there? The humanoid portions that were attached before were completely destroyed in the fighting—not a trace remains. Well... if you absolutely need even the scraps, feel free to go dig around the battlefield yourselves."
"...!"
The moment the meaning behind her words registered, bright smiles bloomed across the three faces opposite her.
And Adjutant Song Dana allowed the corner of her mouth to lift, just slightly.