Chapter 24
Straight to the knife without anesthesia?! 'I need to look into this author tls123 once I get back.' Seo Dami thought to herself as she set down the reviewed evidence of corruption. In truth, she'd harbored doubts about Lebalheonda for a while now, and the interview with Cha Yaeun plus the suspiciously timed gate break had pushed them to a boiling point. She'd already ordered an investigation long ago, but the break had made her forget about it for a bit.
Remembering it now, Seo Dami planned to check the results through her secretary as soon as she returned. 'Coincidences like this can't keep piling up. There has to be something there...' The thought wouldn't leave her mind. But if there was something, what the hell was it? A high-ranker who knew info even other high-rankers didn't, events that hadn't happened yet, corrupt scandals the world was oblivious to—and he just casually wrote it all into a novel. How do you even explain a guy like that?
"Lee Seoryul."
"Yes?"
Lee Seoryul turned to see Seo Dami staring at her intently, lost in thought. She figured the question was coming: Where the hell did you get this evidence? How does a newbie agent like you know stuff even the Association's audit office doesn't? She'd prepared an excuse for that exact suspicion and was about to deliver it when—
"Those documents—"
"Do you think there's maybe a prophet out there? Or something like that?"
What Seo Dami really wanted to ask had nothing to do with that. Honestly, the source of the documents didn't matter to her one bit. Her gut was screaming that it was real, and for her, that was enough.
"......Pardon?"
Lee Seoryul just blinked at the completely out-of-left-field question.
"It's been fifty years since gates started appearing. All kinds of skills have shown up and vanished in that time. But... out of all those countless powers, not a single precognition-type has ever emerged."
"That's true...?"
Lee Seoryul blinked again, wondering why the conversation had suddenly veered into gate and hunter history lesson territory.
"That's why scholars say abilities that mess with time or the future just won't manifest. That kind of power isn't allowed for us humans, or whatever."
"But... I see it differently. Where's the romance in that crap? Hunter powers keep evolving, and people are still awakening with totally unprecedented abilities even now."
"I've always thought that someday, some insane powerhouse who can see the future—precog or whatever—would show up. Like an awakening singularity. But realistically, it might not happen in my lifetime."
"And yet... maybe that singularity has already arrived without us knowing."
Lee Seoryul's heart dropped as Seo Dami stared straight at her. Did she figure it out? No way... 'How...? Was it too unnatural for a rookie agent like me to know and report on this corruption? Damn, I slipped up.' She knew Seo Dami had sharp instincts, but this sharp? She swallowed hard.
"If a real oracle exists, maybe that oracle's in Korea... writing novels."
"......Pardon?"
What the hell? Lee Seoryul had tensed up thinking she'd been caught, but Seo Dami was spouting something totally random. For Lee Seoryul, who'd decided to keep her regression a secret for various reasons, this was a relief—or maybe a worry that Crimson Guild was stressing Seo Dami out so much it was affecting her mental health. Hard to say.
Whatever. Seo Dami seemed to not care about Lee Seoryul's reaction at all, sinking back into her own thoughts. 'Is tls123 really a precog? Writing his visions of the future as novels? But... why bother?'
With that new suspicion hanging in the air, their private talk came to an end.
Seo Dami drowned her frustrations over the unsolvable puzzle in heavy drinking. After parting with Lee Seoryul late into the night and stumbling home, she desperately wanted to call her secretary right then and demand an update on the investigation she'd ordered ages ago. But everyone was asleep by now, and the booze was hitting her hard too, so she put it off till morning.
Instead, remembering the time difference, she figured other countries would be awake and made a call somewhere.
The next morning, headlines rocked the peaceful Republic of Korea like a thunderbolt:
Seo Dami, nursing her hangover with a bowl of haejangguk for breakfast, let out a hollow chuckle at the news.
"Damn, our Senior Kang doesn't mess around."
Tie up loose ends, right? She'd nagged Kang Sora that since it happened under her watch, she should clean it up herself to save face. She expected some noise given Kang Sora's personality, but she never imagined the woman would ditch her overseas schedule, rush back in hours, and lop off the ringleader's head in one go.
Literally.
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"Got anything to say? Speak now."
It was barely dawn. Kang Sora, back in-country alone without warning or regard for her diplomatic itinerary, tossed a stack of papers in front of Vice President Kim Seongho.
Printed copies of the docs Seo Dami had emailed her. Kim Seongho picked them up in a daze, skimmed them, and his face went pale.
"This is slander! You can't seriously believe this nonsense, President? Looks like some foreign power or major guild is plotting against our Hunter Association."
He denied it flat-out, trying not to show his panic. No way this happened. How did even my closest aides not know about this corruption—
Sure, minor scandals? Fine, tails get stepped on. Dust from shaking things out could surface. But this? This wasn't minor. These were life-or-death secrets laid bare—black connections and corruption so deep even his most trusted inner circle shouldn't know.
Who the hell?!
Chills ran down his spine. He kept a straight face, but cold sweat trickled inescapably. Sure, you need two hands to clap—maybe one of his cronies snitched. But this felt different. Hard to explain, but it wasn't like his partners suddenly growing a conscience. So what then? How did his ironclad secrets leak, all the way to Kang Sora overseas? His head spun.
First, damage control... gotta contain this...
Vice President Kim Seongho stuck to his guns: total denial. Kang Sora leaving domestic ops to him while she handled international security meant she trusted him that much. He wouldn't cross lines, even if he screwed up—and he'd managed his image well enough to believe she wouldn't ditch him over some flimsy papers without a full investigation.
"Fine."
Kang Sora finally spoke after a long silence. Relief washed over Kim Seongho's face. Of course. After all I've done, she wouldn't pin this on me without checking—
But then: "I was gonna spare you if you showed some honest remorse. But nah, you're done. Do I look like a fucking idiot to you?"
Her icy words and chilling gaze choked the air from his lungs. Not imagination. An invisible force gripped his throat like a vice.
"Hah, no. I must be an idiot—didn't notice you pulling this shit right under my nose all this time."
"W-Wait—!"
Danger. People say civilization dulled our wild instincts, but nope. His gut screamed bloody murder as he staggered back, mouth opening to plead: I'm innocent! This is a frame job! Even if true, due process! You can't just—
"Shut up and die."
Kang Sora moved faster. No need for a trial; underlings could handle that. He had political connections, bribes everywhere—court would drag on, verdict might not even stick. Public would just get pissed watching justice fail again.
So without hesitation, she snapped her fingers.
Lightning engulfed the stumbling Vice President Kim Seongho.
"Gaaah—!"
His death cry echoed as he charred to a crisp, barely humanoid lump. Kang Sora gazed down coldly and hit the button for her secretarial staff.
"Come in and clean up this trash."
Less than a minute later, the door opened and her chief aide appeared. He swallowed vomit from the stench, keeping composed.
"Is this okay? It could be a false accusation..."
Why no executions in modern death sentences? Because even ironclad cases can prove innocent later. Killing the wrong person? Disaster. Justice systems account for human error.
But—
"Hey, you forgot since I'm always off diplomancing, but I'm S-rank."
Kang Sora wasn't mere human. Superhuman. S-rank lightning mage. She could detect lies via bioelectricity. Handy for diplomacy. Nobody knew because why tip them off?
When the corruption blew open, she'd heard Kim Seongho's heart racing, his currents spiking—not outrage at false claims, but fear of truth exposed. Living lie detector. No way she missed he was guilty.
Hell, rushing back, she'd prayed it wasn't true. If it was, she was incompetent, ashamed to show her face, headache from fixing the Association.
But it was. She'd trusted him, thought he'd toe the line even if greedy. Nope, way over.
Worst: Using me? You dared play games over my head?
Now the age to watch grandkids like her old rival Sword Saint, slaving for the nation—and this punk played her. Unforgivable rage boiled. Next targets locked.
"Politics too—plenty of cronies there. Investigate them thoroughly."
The ones who'd pushed Kim Seongho into vice presidency. They'd pay. Sparks crackled around her in fury, shattering ceiling lights, cracking windows.
In the sudden gloom, her ferocious glare was pure demon. Her aide knew instinctively:
'A bloodbath's coming.'
Too late to say after physically wrecking the VP, but no quiet resolution here. He prayed this trash was the last blood spilled in the storm.