The Day That Eventually Comes

His name was Oh Yeongjun. Age: forty-three. In all the years behind him — forty-three of them, a span you could call long or short depending on how you measured it — and in all the days still waiting ahead, he would never forget today.

"You wrote this review, Mr. Oh Yeongjun?"

"...Yes."

For a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠moment Yeongjun considered lying. Then he thought better of it — they would figure it out soon enough and come right back — and quietly nodded.

"I found him."

The man looked absurdly pleased with himself as he smiled and placed a call. Yeongjun squeezed his eyes shut.

Between the people who had shown up at his door without warning and the comment he had left on that review, the picture was clear enough. Something had happened to the potion maker who had saved his life.

I thought it was just a rumor. So this is how the pharmaceutical companies settle a grudge. I left one comment. They're going this far over a single comment?

"Yes... yes. Understood. I'll put him through."

And now they wanted him to speak with the person who had sent them. In the movies, this was the part where you ended up talking to some nameless voice right before they dragged you into the mountains or sank you in a river.

Should I beg them to spare me? People change their minds. They might let me live.

Yeongjun opened his mouth, ready to plead with whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Please, just this once, forgive—"

"You interested in working at a cafe?"

It was so completely, wildly unexpected that Yeongjun's soul, which had briefly vacated his body, had to crawl back in before he could answer a beat too late.

"...I'm sorry? A cafe?"

"That's right. A ca-fe."

Only then did Yeongjun actually look at the caller he had been too terrified to see. A hologram rose from a smartwatch, and a handsome man in his twenties with striking silver hair was looking back at him.

He studied the man's face, wondering what someone who looked that put-together could possibly be talking about — but the silver-haired man, and the people in suits standing in front of him, were all deadly serious.

"You mean... a cafe that sells coffee, sir? The kind where people sit and talk?"

"That's the one. I like sweet things more than coffee, though."

"I enjoy them too, now and then. My ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠son picks them up for me."

Yeongjun found himself answering every word the man in the hologram said, almost without meaning to. He couldn't tell whether it was the man's looks or the sheer intimidation of the men standing over him.

"Good. What do you do for work?"

"I scrape by running F-Rank dungeons. But I haven't had a Rank Promotion in years, so I've been thinking of quitting."

If you hunted monsters long enough, there came a moment when your mana capacity suddenly surged and you rose to the next rank. They called it a Rank Promotion. Modern technology still couldn't predict when that moment would come, or where any given person's ceiling actually was.

"I see. How much do you make?"

"...About two million won."

Even that was generous. One accident, one injury, and the number could be cut in half — or drop him into the red. F-Rank awakeners like him weren't even treated as real hunters. You only started getting treated like a human being from D-Rank on up.

Hah... I just don't have the talent.

Every field had its gaps in talent, but this one was crueler than most. A marathon with no finish line in sight. A sprint where, more likely than not, a cliff was waiting at the end.

Yeongjun had been an ordinary house painter until he awakened as F-Rank in his thirties and, for the first time, had a dream.

Some people looked at a man his age chasing a dream and called him insane. His wife and his son had cheered him on. Even now, if he walked through the door, they would greet him with a warm smile and tell him he'd worked hard today.

"Do you enjoy it?"

The question hit him so squarely that tears sprang to his eyes. At first, riding the hope that D-Rank was just around the corner, it had been fun. It had been joyful. Then the runners beside him started ranking up, and as the years piled on, the joy shrank and the misery grew.

Thoughts like that had pulled at him like a swamp. Then his son had drawn close to college age, and reality had taken a step ahead of the dream.

"....."

"I see."

Sometimes silence was the best answer you could give.

"I'll ask again. You want to try working at a cafe? I won't force you if you don't."

"But I've never worked at a cafe in my life..."

"I'll pay you double."

The silver-haired man flicked his fingers with a crisp snap, and the man standing in front of Yeongjun held out a contract.

"...There's nothing a person can't learn, is there? You're never too old to start."

The answer jumped out of Yeongjun's mouth the instant he heard the terms. He had held on for years with the grim faith that a promotion would come someday, but he had reached his limit. Who in the world could refuse an offer like that?

"Good. Manager Kang's already lined up a cafe for you to learn drinks. Once things are in place, you'll train for a few months. You'll get paid during that time, of course."

"But... why would you offer someone like me terms like these..."

By any honest measure, he was a nobody. A man who had gotten on in years, chased a hunter's dream that didn't fit him, and ended up stuck as an F-Rank hunter. A failed life.

"I'm the one who sold those F-Rank potions. I liked your review. Think of this as what five stars are worth."

"Ah..."

"Thank you! But... may I ask one favor?"

"Hm? What is it?"

The sudden request left everyone puzzled. This man who had been shrinking into himself the entire time was asking for a favor?

The moment Yeongjun spoke, they all understood why he had found the courage.

"You can cut my pay if you need to. Would it be all right if I worked with a friend of mine? We've worked together for years. He's getting on in years too, and nowhere will take him anymore."

"We'll put your friend on the same contract."

"Thank you so much! I swear I'll repay this kindness."

"Forget the gratitude. Just learn well. If it tastes bad, you're fired."

The heavy machinery thundered through the heat.

"Have something cold and take a break!"

"Don't mind if we do. Thanks for the meal, building owner!"

The site foreman bellowed his thanks through the blistering summer air, and I raised a hand in reply.

"Hey, all of you, get over here! It's sweltering — rest a bit!"

There wasn't a restaurant or a shop anywhere nearby, so Manager Kang had simply gone and built a makeshift cafeteria and a wide rest shelter right next to the construction site. The workers piled into the air-conditioned shade, wiping sweat from their faces and drinking down beverages with ice floating in them.

"Whew... I've never seen a construction site like this in my life."

The fact that anyone was following the law at all was the real shock. Legally, in heat like this, you were supposed to rest ten to fifteen minutes every hour. This was the first site any of them had ever seen that actually did it.

"Big corporations really are on another level."

"Kang, what are you talking about? This place is the exception."

"He's right. They don't usually do this."

"Normally you hand the job to a construction company and their subcontractors take it from there. The client doesn't personally supervise like that."

The reason the site had ended up this comfortable was simple: Manager Kang would do just about anything to avoid getting on Karen's bad side.

It's already this hot — what if someone actually got hurt? He didn't look like he was in any hurry. Minimize the variables. That's the play.

Money? Rising wages? What did any of that matter? Compared to what they were going to earn from the potion formulas Karen had given them, it was a drop in the ocean.

I have to stay on his good side.

Manager Kang's worries landed in a slightly different place than he intended, and stirred up a memory of mine. Before I went to Belial, I had worked construction myself. I knew that grind in my bones, and the smiles on those workers' faces hit me a little differently because of it.

Yeah. If you can do it this way, there's no reason to make people suffer.

Good things being good — that was enough, wasn't it? I turned to Manager Kang beside me with a pleased smile.

"Our Manager Kang. You really know how to get things done."

"Not at all. Thanks to you, Karen, that headache Director Choi is gone, and I can't tell you how much easier it's been. Hahaha."

These days, Manager Kang was a man who actually enjoyed waking up in the morning. Private meetings with the company president on a regular basis. A seat at the executive table. A future he had given up on when Director Choi was blocking the way had opened up in front of him.

If only every day could be like this.

Come to think of it, little sprouts of hair had started coming in across the bare patches on his crown. It wasn't a full recovery, but up close you could see the difference. Stress really was hair loss's greatest enemy.

His first impression was so intimidating.

All the back-and-forth over the land purchases around my house and the construction itself had brought us into contact often enough that Manager Kang had grown comfortable enough with me to talk about personal things. The read he had on me, as a person, was fairly simple. Stay on the right side of the line and I was generous. Cross it, and I was utterly ruthless.

"Construction's gotten a lot faster than it used to be, too."

"Kku-ing."

Samsaek nodded along beside me. We hadn't been at this long — a cafe going up in front of us, and next to it a building for the staff to live in — but already nothing was left but the interior work. The gates had taken more lives than anyone could count, but technology had leaped forward the way it always did in a world war.

"It has. Time really does fly. And we've ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠purchased the land around your house, Karen. It's about the size of three neighborhoods — should we buy more?"

"No, that's plenty."

The land itself didn't mean much to me. I was only buying it so I wouldn't have to deal with someone moving in next door and becoming a nuisance.

"You could live somewhere far nicer if you wanted. Is there a reason you insist on staying here?"

"Well... I just like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it here."

I couldn't explain it properly, but living in this area, I could feel something warm rising up from the earth itself. It was where I had met Samsaek, too.

"It's strange, though — not a single gate has appeared. To be honest, I thought construction would be difficult since this is a Red Zone."

Guri-si, the city we were standing in, was classified as a gate Red Zone, which was why those workers had been brought in at a premium. Awakeners had been stationed all around the site for safety besides. And yet, strangely, not a single gate had shown itself.

Now that Manager Kang mentioned it, I realized I couldn't remember a single gate appearing since I'd moved here, Red Zone or not. Not that it mattered. If one did show up, it wouldn't be a problem.

"...Huh. Yeah. Better if they don't show up, I guess."

"Come to think of it, I heard the mana detector they use to sense gates went off during the foundation work... but it wasn't a problem. Must be because you're here, Karen. Hahaha."

Manager Kang's habitual sucking-up was kind of adorable.

"I'll share fifty percent of the D-Rank potion formula with you, too."

"Thank you!"

Manager Kang bowed with tears in his voice, and I gave him a reassuring pat on the back. In the middle of that warm little moment, Samsaek suddenly shuddered, seized by an ominous premonition.

"...?"

What is that? I've felt this once before. Kku-ing.

He was with his master, though. How much trouble could there really be?