The Hero's Dilemma
"Welcome, aspiring heroes. I'm Yoo Yeong-ho, the hero known as the Executioner."
The man bowed his head in greeting, and the auditorium filled with applause. Every young face in the packed seats brimmed with respect and trust.
"Haha, thank you all for coming to today's special lecture. Shall we dive right in?"
Yoo Yeong-ho tapped his smartwatch, advancing the screen. The massive wall display boldly read: 'Dimension Gate Response Protocols'.
"Dimension gates. Since 1999, they've appeared everywhere on Earth. Scholars debate whether they're natural phenomena or artificial, but no clear answer has emerged."
He swiped again, revealing photos: mountains, oceans, cities, even school fields. Circular rifts spewing eerie mana grew larger in each successive image.
"On average, one or two per month worldwide. These unpredictable portals are humanity's greatest threat, and the Hero Association monitors them with utmost vigilance."
Click. The next slide dropped the room into silence. A satellite image showed a gate rivaling the size of the adjacent baseball field.
"Remember the 'Dodgers Gate' incident in LA two years ago? Three S-rank monsters emerged, forcing six Round Table knights to rush to the U.S. It was a tragedy that claimed countless lives."
Yoo Yeong-ho traced a holy sign to honor the fallen, and the audience bowed in silent tribute. Clearing his throat, he continued.
"Why do gates grow so massive? You all know gates expand over time, spewing stronger, more numerous monsters into our world."
He played a short video: S-rank beasts clashing in a chaotic melee with six Round Table heroes. The heroes methodically subdued the rampaging monsters amid citywide destruction and sealed the gate.
"Without the Round Table's heroes, LA might have become a monster-infested jungle like the Amazon."
After a sip of water, Yoo Yeong-ho pointed to the screen. A CCTV captured a tiny gate.
"This gate started at D-rank size. But the discovering hero..."
Even after water, his throat burned. This topic always stung.
"...was at the ballgame with his family. As he fought to close it, a stray monster attacked his son."
The audience groaned in sympathy—a dilemma every hero facing a gate dreaded.
"Yes. He abandoned the gate moments from destruction to save his family. The incomplete seal caused it to explode in size exponentially. He saved his son but caused hundreds of casualties. Overwhelmed by guilt, he took his own life atop the ruined gate."
Yoo Yeong-ho let the heavy mood linger.
"So you must wrestle with it: What if it happens to me? Family versus humanity's future—which do I choose? As aspiring heroes, ponder this deeply and etch your decision in your mind."
He pointed to a wide-eyed youth in the front row.
"You there, middle of the row? Number 38? Stand up. What would you do?"
A mic reached Number 38.
"Imagine a gate opens where you are, and beside you is the woman you adore—worth giving everything for. Do you evacuate her first or seal the gate?"
Number 38 hesitated, then declared resolutely:
"I'd seal the gate without hesitation!"
"Oh ho, decisive. Why?"
Even Yoo Yeong-ho's teasing couldn't dim the youth's shining eyes.
"Because it's the top priority for humanity's peace!"
"And if she's attacked by a monster in the meantime?"
"I'd seal it and rush to save her!"
"...Pretty words."
Yoo Yeong-ho stared down sternly. All eyes fixed on the frozen Number 38. Gulp. His nervous swallow echoed.
Smirking inwardly, Yoo Yeong-ho asked:
"What's your name?"
Murmurs rippled. In the academy, where fairness demanded "Number XX Agent," a guest lecturer asking a name broke protocol.
"It's fine. You're graduating soon anyway, right? I'm retiring this year to hit the field myself."
His bombshell drew envy and admiration—being named by the Executioner was a blatant pre-graduation scout.
The youth seized it, bellowing:
"Number 38 Agent! Lee Seung-hyung!"
"Good. Then, Lee Seung-hyung, aspiring agent, read this aloud."
Under Yoo Yeong-ho's cue, Lee Seung-hyung boomed the screen's text:
When a dimension gate occurs, all heroes' top priority is destroying the gate.
* * *
No, this won't do.
Climbing the mountain path, Seung-hyung halted and turned back.
"Hoo. Get it together, Seung-hyung. Don't forget Brother Yeong-ho's words."
Slapping his cheeks, he recalled the lecture. A hero's duty before a gate. No more Dodgers Gate tragedies.
But...!
Sensing him, the monsters slyly fled downhill toward people, gate be damned.
She could die. Cheon Ga-eul's bloodied corpse flashed in his mind.
Seung-hyung checked his mana. Battles en route had drained some, but plenty remained for a dozen full sprints up and down.
Thud. A step downhill escaped him.
Yeong-ho's proud face from the lecture surfaced. He froze, half-turning toward the peak.
Sinister mana prickled his skin—the source just a minute's sprint away.
Go? What if monsters attack her? But if she escapes? Or heroes/survivors help? But if the gate doubles while I'm down? Worst case, she's dead by the time I reach her, and the gate's unstoppable?
Endless torment. Clutching his throbbing head, his agency's CEO appeared—an ex-model.
Once, amid Seung-hyung's conflict, he'd said:
"If you'll regret it anyway, go with what eases your mind."
As Seung-hyung squeezed his eyes shut to turn, a falling pine branch jabbed his eye.
"Agh?!"
Even mana-reinforced, it stung. Glaring at the tree:
"Ah."
"Seung-hyung-ssi, go seal the gate. That's a hero's job."
A sharp rebuke to his selfish urges? At his darkest moment, Ga-eul's face overlapped the pine.
"...Right."
Revving his mana, he faced the peak.
"I'll seal the gate."
Ga-eul would be fine. Tough enough to survive as a child actress in cutthroat showbiz. That's why he fell for her—from screen glimpses to shared scenes, every moment enchanted him.
"When I get back—"
He'd confess. Ignoring trails, he blazed straight up, feet flying faster.
* * *
Eyes opened. Blink. Blink.
Where am I?
The world looked different. Seoul's skyline sprawled far below, like viewing from a lofty lighthouse.
Last thing I remember—
Pain so excruciating he'd begged for death, then blackout. Deok-bae scanned for Phoenix, then stepped.
Boom!
...?
Was my footfall always this loud? Eyes dropped; a silent scream.
His legs—or what passed for them—blazed in blue flames.
"Your eye level will change."
Phoenix's parting words hit. Her antics, illogic, his form: one conclusion.
Gulliver?
No special effects set—this was Seoul, and he was a flame-wreathed giant. Chuckling, he stomped harder.
Boom!
'No way aggro won't pull now.'
A shabby house crumpled underfoot. Clenching/unclenching fists, he eyed north.
"......Whoa."
Building glass reflected him: blue-flame titan, gray rock orb embedded at his solar plexus.
'That's gotta be me.'
His original body, 100%. Phoenix was experimenting; he had to judge solo.
'Annoying as hell.'
A giant in central Seoul—what now? Full sprint?
Crack! Something smacked his head.
Stumbling forward but recovering, he checked: a hunter in flight gear, whipping mana ropes.
"Hahaha! Big but useless!"
Whoosh! Blue flames from Deok-bae's arm incinerated them. The hunter panicked, retreating.
Thwack! Deok-bae swatted fly-like.
The hunter jetted away.
"Heehee! Dumb brute! That's why monsters are fun to troll!"
'Really pissing me off.'
Chattering fly, just like his boss.
"Ooh, hunt time! Core's mine!"
"Find the weak spot! Mana-infused hits only!"
Truck disgorging hunters eyed him hungrily. Feeling like cornered boar, Deok-bae fumed.
'Pull aggro, huh? Fine. Thoroughly.'
Knees bent, he leaped skyward.
"Wh-what?!"
Building-sized giant spread arms midair.
A hunter fueling thrusters quipped:
"Diving body press?"
BOOM! Dust erupted at Dok-san Station.
* * *
Cheon Ga-eul. Villainess and early chapter boss, nicknamed "Newbie Slayer," "Wall of Wailing."
Her top illusion ability Maskerade (Masquerade) copied appearance, voice, memories, even partial powers. In a pitch-black building boss arena, she'd impersonate allies for ambushes.
I'd partied her twice, analyzed every pattern after wipe-fests, and jailed her easily.
That sparked the community "villain ally" craze:
Perverted players cleared with all-villain parties. Cadres were villains anyway—why block? Devs endorsed: "Villains can be allies! Enjoy freely."
In canon, "resocialized" nerfs and bad rep, but performance matched others—no issue.
Just moral qualms over virtual criminals. Ga-eul ranked top-tier evil among villains.
"So why are you here?"
I'd dragged her fainted form to the lecture hall lounge, laying her on the sofa. Azure Flame veil draped her like a thin blanket.
"This ID's real, right?"
Her smartphone case hid a New Seoul Resident ID—not license or ability card. Profile and address matched my memory perfectly.
"........."
From the hall vending machine, I reached in sans payment, grabbing a drink.
Pop! The crisp tab echoed.
Cool refreshment cleared my throat, but muddled my mind further.
Dump her outside now? Trigger awakening? Too late. She's seen me. Kill her? 'An azure-flame ability user saved me' testimony? But she's key to protagonist-heroine events. And she's a main heroine.'
Mindless villain? Easy incineration. But main heroine with solo route? Problematic.
I recalled pre-reveal chatter:
Infamous, but strong. Bare face decent sans makeup. Body tops Korean heroines. Sub for missed allies/enemies.
'Who'd guess main heroine with solo ending?'
C-grade at best. Heroines started 1.5-tier, some Round Table—shocking for a side villain. I reran immediately to route her.
'Is this chick even that villainess?'
Clutching the veil like a chick, she slept innocently.
Frustrating. Awake, I could ask.
"Why collapse here today of all days?"
Staring at sofa-hogging Ga-eul, I facepalmed.
'Comfy? Sleepy now?'
Relief from near-death, sure. But knowing the plot, I burned inside.
'You need to awaken first.'
Protagonist earns Korean Hero Association trust via recruiting her. Early flags, events—all tied to Ga-eul.
"Shouldn't have saved her?"
Regret, but no choice. Unawakened death blocks true ending—not just one corpse.
"Canon too weak, now plug 5-year death flags? Ridiculous."
Her route begged burying her past. Saving her thoughtlessly terrified me.
What if I ignored gate alert? Rushed Yeouido? Ignored monster attack?
"World's too harsh on me."
Wanna reset. No method. Clear game? Maybe. Trapped forever? Find survival path.
"True ending survival flags... sigh."
Head-splitting thoughts over. Silently rooftop-bound to not wake her.
Monsters slunk from lecture hall sensing me.
"Hunters? Deok-bae's drawing eyes."
His curses? Obvious. Rare A-rank flex—flesh-ripening experience.
"Ga-eul... this'll guard her."
Molding mana flames like clay into candy-sized orb.
Dark Legion cadres birthed monsters. Awakened spirit me? Lesser spirits.
Humans see monsters anyway.
"Light the night, child of the sun."
Whoosh. Roof heated; orb pulsed.
Crack, crunch! Shattered flames formed a tiny bird.
♩♬
"Yeah, good birdie."
Canary-sized on my finger: Mini Phoenix, perfect sentry.
"Guard the human inside. Got it?"
— Gotcha!
Chirps to normals; clear to spirit-attuned me.
Misheard?
"Chase attacking monsters too."
— Eat 'em?
Takes after owner, huh. Nodding, I launched it skyward.
"Whew, now."
Sensing mana across Gwanak: heroes holding swarm with efficient lines. I sensed their commander.
'Defense line? Why?'
Optimal for encircling with all resources. Hunter gaps from Deok-bae's chaos, but veteran-worthy tactics.
But ignores the gate?
'Two options.'
Delay seal for cores, or quick heavy hitter seals while others protect civilians. Layout screamed latter.
'Solo breakthrough to gate?'
Odd aura charging peak amid ominous mana perked my ears.
Ample mana, but attribute nagged.
"Fire attribute?"
Fire hero here? Circling Mini Phoenix got mana boost; I leaped down.
'Gotta see who.'
Canon protagonist's rare trait—under 1000 worldwide.
'Not him.'
In U.S. now.
'But Ga-eul's here too.'
Dubious, I trailed the mana trace up the trail.
Nothing certain till eyes confirm.