Picking Up Strays
So that's what it meant, the tutorial ending.
The truth was, I had entered the Gangnam Gate well ahead of everyone else.
And finding the Hyunmu Guild inside that gate hadn't been particularly difficult. Aside from the monsters, they were the only souls in there.
But instead of rescuing them right away, I chose to conceal my presence and watch how the situation unfolded. There had been several moments when the Hyunmu Guild's formation was on the verge of collapse, and still I held back, observing.
There were a few reasons for that.
The first. After the Tutorial Termination message, I needed to confirm exactly what had changed. When it came to protecting the people around me, understanding precisely how the system's rules had shifted mattered far more than the lives of a few hunters I'd never met.
Coordinated attacks and cut-off retreat routes, huh. They're actually starting to seem alive now.
The monsters' movements, once no better than wild beasts, had grown noticeably more organized and methodical. And judging by the way the boss scattered its presence while approaching from a distance, it was clearly no longer waiting in its designated chamber—it roamed the field freely.
The second. Hyunmu Guild hadn't entered this gate for any grand purpose in the first place. They'd come for their guild's reputation, for money, and to satisfy their own petty greed.
One of the truths I'd learned in Murim was that the one who pays for a fight born of his own choices is the one who started it. In other words, there was no reason for me to play some apostle of justice and rescue every last man who'd crawled into a gate to fill his own rice bowl.
And besides—
...What is wrong with that guy?
I was frowning as I watched him—a man radiating golden light, absorbing the Lycan Lord's assault entirely on his own. He was effectively carrying the whole raid by himself, and he was getting nothing but abuse for it. The sight reminded me of the stubborn, righteous sect defenders who used to flail about in Murim, "protecting the sect" until their last breath, and it soured my stomach.
What made it even more absurd was that his companions had abandoned the idiot and started running. And of course, he knew it too.
Hah. I can't stand to watch this.
That was the moment I moved. Someone had to say something—I refused to watch him die with a satisfied look on his face.
And it was obvious he was the returnee Park Jaehyun had mentioned. The energy pouring out of his body was an entirely different kind from any internal power I knew.
"You give up faster than I expected."
I said it as I revealed myself before him. Of course, the giant mutt was still very much mid-motion, driving its claws down with full force.
Srrk—
"...Huh?"
At that odd sound, Seo Jinwoo let out a short gasp behind me. And at the same instant, the great dog's hand—no, its foreleg—came crashing down toward the ground.
Robbed of a front leg in a flash, the mutt scrambled to put distance between us.
"Krrrrr!"
Whether it was the rise in its intelligence or pure instinct, the huge beast before me refused to approach carelessly, hackles raised, doing nothing but snarling. The only thing that held my interest was its regeneration speed—even now, its severed foreleg was bubbling and knitting itself back together.
"Regeneration, huh. Fascinating. Let's see just how well you can heal, shall we?"
I scanned my surroundings. The space inside the gate was a forest, so finding a suitable tree branch was no trouble at all. And Murim happened to possess exactly one martial art that was perfect for beating dogs.
Kwaeng.
When I smashed the branch, wreathed in sword qi, into its skull, a sound resembling a dog's yelp burst from the boss's mouth. But that was only the beginning. I gleefully pummeled the creature's enormous body with the branch.
The dog-beaters, whatever else you could say about them, truly surpassed even the Blood Heavens Sect in the art of hitting dogs. The essence of the Dog Beating Staff Technique wasn't crushing an opponent to death with mindless force—it was targeting only the joints and pressure points to inflict the maximum possible pain.
My reason for knowing the technique was simple. While gathering the Murim Treasures to return to Earth, the Green Jade Dog-Beating Staff of the Dog-Beaters had come bundled with the technique itself.
Honestly, I never needed those beggars' stuff.
But returning something my subordinates had worked so hard to seize, under the pretense of a "misunderstanding," was a laughable notion—so I'd learned it on a whim, as a pastime. And as it happens, everything you learn finds a use eventually.
Kkaeng—!
After several rounds of relentless staff-beating, the oversized mutt tucked its tail between its legs and tried to flee from me.
"Where do you think you're going?"
I lightly rapped the branch against its hind leg, and the sound of its leg bone shattering rang out. Thud. Its body, having lost its balance, crumpled to the ground.
I kept swinging the wooden stick at the fallen beast. What was interesting was that the more I beat it, the more its regeneration began to slow.
"Ahh. Now that's refreshing."
I tossed the branch away and looked down at the Lycan Lord, now torn to rags like a dishcloth.
Lycan Lord 'Valter Fenrik' has died.
Ignoring the messages floating before my eyes, I turned around with a satisfied expression. There stood the dopey one, staring at me with the startled eyes of a rabbit.
"Th-thank you for saving me. I'm Seo Jinwoo of the Hyunmu Guild."
I scowled as I looked at him, half his soul gone, babbling his thanks. Even after his comrades—his own family, no less—had abandoned him, the fool wasn't even angry, and for some reason it grated on my nerves.
"Spare me the gratitude."
I regarded him with cold eyes and spoke slowly. "I saw your so-called comrades run off and leave you back there. Does playing the martyr make you feel a little better?"
"...N-no, it's not like that."
"Or what—did they have some kind of dirt on you?"
I asked the man who'd introduced himself as Seo Jinwoo, and the answer that came out of his mouth was beyond absurd. Condensed to its essence, Seo Jinwoo's story went roughly like this:
Like me, he'd been dragged off to another world without warning one day. When he returned, his parents were dead and his family was ruined. The only thing left was his older brother—and the moment that brother learned of his ability, he'd wrung him dry with impressive thoroughness.
"...So, my brother... he's allowed to do that to me."
Granted, he could think that way. Family matters were hard to judge accurately from the outside. But even so, there were lines that existed.
"Are you an idiot or something?"
"Sorry?"
At my crude insult, Seo Jinwoo blinked in bewilderment. I wrinkled my brow tight, staring at that vacant face of his. No matter how hard I tried to hold it in, the profanity just came out. There was something uncannily similar between him and me—and maybe that was exactly why he irritated me so much.
"You didn't choose to go, did you? And why would the family collapsing in your absence be entirely your fault? You were what, sixteen?"
"..."
"Don't get it twisted, kid. There's no household in this world a sixteen-year-old is responsible for holding together. That was just bad luck. Yours."
I genuinely meant it. It wasn't that he'd been dragged to another world against his will that struck me as unlucky—it was that when he finally returned, there was no family left to welcome him warmly.
And I could see Seo Jinwoo's eyes waver at my words. Apparently, no one had ever said anything like that to him, even right after he'd come back to Earth. If anything, that "brother" of his had almost certainly leaned on him harder, feeding on his younger sibling's guilt.
"Even between family, there's such a thing as debt and obligation. If you've received something, you repay it—that's only natural. But the way I see it, you've repaid that debt in full with this little stunt, haven't you?"
At my words, Seo Jinwoo simply swallowed hard, his expression a mess of confusion. However much he'd claimed he was fine with it, being abandoned and left for dead on the field couldn't possibly have left no wound. He was, after all, barely in his late teens.
"So what—planning to keep living like this from now on?"
"...I-I don't know."
I gave a hollow laugh watching him fumble at my question. He claimed he didn't know yet, but something about him suggested that if I simply sent him back like this, nothing whatsoever would change.
"Fine. Whatever kind of asinine life you choose to live is none of my business. But—you owe me a debt. You acknowledge that?"
"Huh? Oh—yes. But how should I repay you?"
"Hmm? We'll figure that out later."
I watched the anxiety seep into Seo Jinwoo's face at my words. It was half-coercion on my part, but after a moment's thought, he slowly nodded.
"Goddammit, what the hell is this, you son of a—!"
Seo Jintae spat out curses, his face twisted in fury. Having fled in a blind panic, they'd somehow made it to the gate's entrance—which was, if nothing else, a stroke of fortune.
The problem was that the gate's exit, which should have let them out under normal circumstances, wasn't reacting at all. No—accurately speaking, there was a reaction.
Exit is unavailable until the Gate has been cleared.
The reason Seo Jintae had chosen to conquer the Gangnam Station A-rank Gate in the first place was the enormous profit it promised. Ever since the Yeouido Gate clearance, the old system of guilds dividing up and guarding their own territories had been quietly starting to wobble. A guild alliance under the utterly ridiculous name of Hyeolcheon had been born, and thanks to it, the surrounding guilds had begun murmuring about forming their own coalitions.
Winning influence within such an alliance required results—and the results Seo Jintae had settled on was the conquest of the A-rank Gate that had conveniently appeared at Gangnam Station. A gate that should have demanded cooperation from other guilds, he'd decided to tackle alone.
The problem was the outcome of pushing things that way. He'd gained nothing and lost far too much. No—if his luck ran any worse, there would be nothing strange about being wiped out to the last man right here.
"Guildmaster, what do we do now?"
"How should I know! How was anyone supposed to predict this!"
Seo Jintae shrieked irritably at his vice-guildmaster. The sudden "Tutorial Termination" nonsense mid-raid had been absurd enough, but the results were even more preposterous. The monsters' intelligence had shot up, the boss had abandoned its chamber to hunt the field in person, and now even the gate's free exit had been sealed. At this point, he half wondered whether the universe itself was out to sabotage him.
"Huh? G-Guildmaster. Over there—it's Jinwoo. Jinwoo's coming back!"
"What? What kind of bullshit is—"
Seo Jintae, cursing on reflex, was forced to shut his mouth. Because there, in the distance, Seo Jinwoo really was approaching—comparatively intact, at that. One arm hung limp as if broken, but knowing the boy, he'd recover soon enough.
"S-Seo Jinwoo? What happened? The boss?"
"...Well, this gentleman saved me. He killed the boss too."
"What? He killed that monster?"
Seo Jintae stared at the unidentified man in open disbelief. And at that very moment, he heard the surviving guild members shouting:
"Guildmaster! The exit's become available again!"
Only then was Seo Jintae forced to believe Seo Jinwoo's words. If the boss hadn't been slain, there would have been no reason for the previously sealed gate exit to suddenly open.
The relief of survival lasted only a moment before Seo Jintae's expression hardened into ice. The problem was this: Hyunmu Guild had been the only party authorized to enter the Gangnam Gate.
Who the hell is this bastard, crawling into someone else's raid zone like he owns the place?
He wanted to raise that issue on the spot, but the image of the monstrous Lycan Lord still lingered vividly in Seo Jintae's mind. Which meant he could deduce at least this much: a man who had walked out of there unharmed was not an opponent to trifle with.
"Th-thank you for saving my little brother. If you leave me your contact information, I'll be sure to compensate you properly later. That said, my brother's condition isn't good at the moment, so we really must see to his treatment first—"
Seo Jintae delivered the words with a reasonably courteous expression. However shattered his character might be, he wasn't stupid enough to go off half-cocked at a man whose identity he didn't even know. Whatever had happened inside, confirming who this man was came first.
And even as he spoke, Seo Jintae was thinking that the promised compensation was one thing—but he would also demand appropriate payment for the intrusion into another guild's territory.
"Stop. Who said you could decide anything?"
That was, of course, right up until the man gave an answer that fell completely outside of Seo Jintae's expectations.