The Guest (1)

Lunch hour, and Seoul's Gangnam commercial district was packed with office workers hunting for a meal.

That didn't mean every restaurant in Gangnam was thriving. Venture a little deeper, toward the slightly out-of-the-way stretches, and those streets were startlingly empty.

This is rough.

A young man in a suit was walking down one of those streets. A gold badge pinned to his lapel caught the light. His name was Lee Siu — a rising politician who had entered the National Assembly at thirty-four.

Convinced the Hunter Association was riddled with chronic problems, he had just come from a visit there. And as expected, he had confirmed it was rotten to the core. They didn't see hunters as people. They saw them as something to squeeze dry.

Damn it. No wonder every hunter with any talent ends up emigrating.

Korea was no country for hunters. Every tax they could levy, every regulation they could slap on, they had. Even government-affiliated hunters weren't paid a proper salary. The world had been changing at a breakneck pace ever since hunters appeared, and while the conglomerates had enough business sense to keep Korea among the developed nations, failing to adapt to the times meant falling behind. That was simply how it worked.

At this rate, Korea would be left in the dust. Lee Siu, who genuinely cared about his country, wanted nothing more than to tear this rotten structure down and rebuild it.

…But there wasn't much he could actually do. Set against his grand ambitions, his own power amounted to less than a handful of dust. Thirty-four was still considered young for politics, and people clung to that prejudice. On top of that, he was a freshman assemblyman — zero prior terms. He had decided to run in the upcoming Seoul mayoral election, but his opponent would be no easy mark. In the last race, even against weaker candidates than this, hadn't he lost?

I have to win this time.

He'd ridden the right coattails well enough to hold onto his assembly seat, but at this rate, forget changing Korea — his political career was about to be over.

"Hah… I don't know. I should eat first."

He scanned the street. Even as a National Assembly member, he didn't have much money — he was determined not to leave any ammunition lying around for future scandals. Beyond that, he simply didn't like crowds. That was why he'd come looking in the fringe commercial district in the first ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠place.

While he was scouting for a place to have lunch, a shop caught his eye. An old building — the kind of place that looked like a craftsman might run it.

The sign, though, was excessively trendy. Siu let out a small laugh. In a country that was a wasteland for S-rank hunters, at least there was an S-Rank Noodle Restaurant. He supposed he should be grateful.

"…But a one-table restaurant?"

A modest notice board out front had an unusual message written on it.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Who would have thought there was a lunatic out there running a one-table operation at a noodle shop. Siu's face was incredulous, but curiosity stirred underneath. Noodles were noodles, weren't they? How confident did you have to be to run a place like this?

"Actually, this works out for me."

Wasn't he looking for somewhere without people anyway? He didn't expect much, but the conditions fit, so he opened the door.

Lunch — the hour when any restaurant ought to be at its busiest. I had a book open on the table and was sipping coffee. How romantic was this? The warm sunlight slipping through the window even seemed to lift my mood.

"Is this what they call the leisure of the well-off?"

While I was at it, I crossed my legs and leaned back comfortably in the chair. The shop was quiet, because I'd slept in and opened late. Yujin, who always came to wake me, was on vacation. She'd said she really wanted to take a family trip with Yuri now that Yuri had fully recovered, so I'd told her to go ahead. Honestly, I could handle the work alone these days. Of course I wasn't going to fire Yujin. Having a pretty woman wake you up in the morning is a man's dream, isn't it?

This is nice, though.

Switching to a one-table format was the best decision I'd made all year. I could sleep in, open the shop whenever I felt like it, lounge around as much as I wanted, and it didn't affect the business at all. Since it was one table, the number of customers I could take was limited. When someone showed up, I could just casually start preparing then — it wouldn't be too late.

Savoring that leisure, I closed my eyes. I figured I'd catch a nap until a customer arrived.

Speak of the devil.

Ding.

A customer. I yawned, looked up, and started to greet them.

"Welco—"

I froze mid-greeting. The person who'd walked in was the problem.

Y-Your Excellency?!

An earthquake went off behind my pupils. Information flashed through my head in a rush.

Lee Siu. The man who would become president of South Korea in exactly ten years.

Wait… why is he here?

I stared at him in bewilderment, then noticed he was looking back at me with equal confusion, and snapped to my senses. It hadn't been ten years yet. He wasn't the president. Right now he was just a customer who'd walked into my restaurant.

"Would the owner of this place happen to be…?"

The implication being: surely you're not the owner. It was a little embarrassing. The so-called proprietor, sitting at the one and only table in the establishment, enjoying a book and a cup of coffee…!

Still, a dream is only as good as its interpretation. I put on my smoothest face.

"Ah, that would be me."

"Excuse me?"

"Please, have a seat."

He still looked bewildered. What he didn't know was that I was even more bewildered than he was.

Why on earth is the future president here?

Lee Siu and I went back a long way. I was the one who'd made enormous contributions to his path to the presidency. In my previous life, I had been… a walking embodiment of Korean national pride. Whenever something went wrong anywhere in the world, they called for me. Naturally. I was the kind of presence that had people shouting for the innkeeper the moment they walked through the door, no matter where they were. When someone like that openly backed a single assemblyman, the presidency was a given.

Well. This hyung did his job well, after all.

There had been one reason I'd backed him. Connections aside, it benefited me. He was the most hunter-friendly politician of his generation. He pushed the state to support capable hunters — tax exemptions of every kind, education made completely free. Generous pensions, of course… and the biggest prize of all.

Military exemption.

Mandatory service. Every able-bodied adult man had to go. There had been no end of controversy over it, and it was the number one reason hunters emigrated. The state would take these high-value talents and work them for eighteen months, for free, and work them hard. Lee Siu was the man who put a stop to that. Of course my eyes had lit up.

Ahem. Come to think of it, I have to go to the military.

Hunters could defer service until thirty-five. Regular people until thirty. Which meant I… didn't have much time left?

Fuck. No.

Thinking about it, I was screwed. I'd planned to have nothing whatsoever to do with any of this in this life — which meant Lee Siu wouldn't become president either.

"Hmm. This book."

"Yes?"

"You seem quite interested. Adolf's Psychology."

Siu had sat down across from me and struck up a conversation. A faint memory surfaced. He'd always lived with a book in his hands. He was someone who truly loved to read.

In that instant, an idea flashed through my mind like lightning.

Wait a second. This…

I basically knew everything that was going to happen in the future. Major incidents, sure — but I even knew when the KOSPI would crash and when it would skyrocket. If I used that well, couldn't he become president in this life too? Lee Siu was an outstanding man to begin with.

Right. First, let's get close.

To get close to someone, you have to find common ground. The only book I'd ever actually read was a children's title called Scary Stuff Is the Best!, but I decided to fake it.

"He's a good man. Personally, I respect him."

I said it with an air of leisure, quietly shifting into a proper sitting posture.

"Do you like books?"

"Of course. I do."

"To have a first customer who shares my interests — I'm lucky."

"Indeed. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I didn't know there was a noodle shop like this around here."

"It's a hidden gem. Known only to those in the know."

"Haha. I should try it quickly, then. But a one-table noodle shop — is business going well?"

Lee Siu looked at me with a puzzled expression.

Hmm. I want to say something impressive here.

To get close to someone, you have to prove your charm or your value. You have to pass the verification of whether you're someone worth associating with. In my previous life, my abilities had been so overpowered that I'd auto-passed. Not now.

Lee Siu likes books, so…

I glanced at Adolf's psychology book. I didn't know a single thing about the contents, but it said "psychology" on the cover, which meant…

"It's not a business I run to make money. I wanted to serve delicious food. Offer warm comfort and advice. Listen to the kinds of worries that even family members find hard to talk about. A one-table format is perfect for that. Maybe ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that's why I came to like Adolf's psychology book as well."

I rattled the whole thing off, sneaking glances at Lee Siu the entire time.

Did that land?

"Hmm. I see. I'll order."

Lee Siu looked at the menu as if none of it had interested him in the slightest.

Of course it didn't land.

If you could become friends with someone from a single speech like that, you'd be living in a novel.

I looked at Lee Siu — who was wearing a pleasantly agreeable expression — as I boiled the noodles.

Come to think of it, was it around this time?

In my previous life, after he'd become president, Lee Siu had told me about it. Before meeting me, he'd been a powerless National Assembly member. Set against his grand ambitions, his own power had been less than a handful, and his political career had been on the verge of ending.

This life would be no different.

I have to stop it.

Lee Siu was a man who had to become president. The only person who could save this rotten Republic of Korea. That was Lee Siu. This absolutely had nothing to do with my military service.

Unlike the previous cycle, though, I had no way to help him directly in this life. Which meant I had to help him indirectly.

Time to set the mood a little.

"That gold badge. You're a politician, I take it."

"Yes, that's right."

"I hear politicians deal with a lot of conflict. It must be tough."

"Well. Isn't that the case anywhere?"

"You must have a lot of worries, too. Your livelihood, for instance."

"That's how it is for everyone."

He spoke while looking elsewhere, as if our conversation didn't interest him in the slightest.

Damn it, Siu-hyung! Look at me when you talk!

Suddenly I became aware of my own status. Right now I was just a noodle shop owner. I didn't have the relationship or the rank to say anything that would carry weight with him. Like a college student who wouldn't listen to an elementary schooler.

No choice, then.

I'd have to force some goodwill.

I fished the noodles from the pot and poured the broth into the bowl. Then I tapped three drops of the elixir in.

"Your noodles are ready."

"Thank you."

He picked up his chopsticks and started slurping. He must have been starving.

"This is delicious."

"I'm glad it suits your taste."

He went on eating in silence. Then, after a moment, he opened his mouth.

"It's been a long time since I've had noodles this good. I suppose that's thanks to an excellent chef."

His energy had risen considerably. His eyes had gone a little unfocused — the elixir was starting to take effect.

"I'll have to come often. I like the shop's atmosphere, too. And the owner is quite ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠impressive."

"I'd be so grateful if you did. If you drop by now and then, I can at least keep you company — even if I'm not much of a conversationalist."

"Understood. I'll definitely come often!"

"Then how about we become sworn brothers while we're at it?"

"Sworn brothers…?"

Something that would have been impossible if he were in his right mind. I was bringing it up without the slightest hesitation.

"You're going to come often, aren't you? We'll end up doing it eventually, so why not now?"

"Shall we?"

I grinned. It was only possible thanks to the elixir, even if just for a moment. Now it was time to get to the point.

"Then I'll call you hyung."

"Good. Do that."

"Then, hyung — your expression doesn't look good. Is something going on?"

"Hah — that's, don't worry about it. It's nothing."

"Still, this little brother of yours is curious."

He hesitated for a moment, then spilled the whole story. To summarize: Lee Siu's proposal to loosen hunter regulations and guarantee their freedom was being dismissed out of hand. His colleagues were actually preparing to cut him out. His political career didn't have much time left.

"I see."

"I should only be talking about pleasant things. Sorry for dumping this on you."

"Not at all. More importantly."

I put on a quite serious expression.

"…A way?"

"If that were possible, I would have. But I don't have any power."

I handed him something.

"What's this?"

"It'll be a great help."

A black USB drive. Pandora's Box, which I'd stolen from the former Association Chairman. It contained every kind of political corruption you could imagine. There was nothing better for cutting out rotten roots.

It's a bit of a waste, but.

I've got to dodge the military, don't I?