The Owl (3)
On the night of the appointed day, an empty lot on the outskirts of Seoul lay quiet under the dark.
Puddeudeuk!
The massive Pungjo lowered its heavy body and touched down with surprising gentleness. Only Hyun Si-woon and Jang Cha-yul slid from its back. Bringing the entire party when they were not headed into battle would have been more burden than help, he had decided.
Kkiruru.
Pungjo rubbed its head against Hyun Si-woon’s cheek in clear reluctance. He stroked the great bird’s feathers with practiced ease.
“Come back when the eastern sky just begins to pale. Rest well until then.”
Kkiruruk!
Understanding its master’s words, Pungjo beat its wings once with powerful force and vanished into the night sky.
“Let’s go.”
At Hyun Si-woon’s brief command the two figures melted into the dark. Moon Shadow Step. Butterfly Dance Step. Like a single pair of shadows they crossed the ruined city without a sound.
Banpo-dong, Seocho-gu.
The National Central Library at dead of night looked thoroughly desolate. The front steps had collapsed, and weeds grew thick all around them. Hyun Si-woon studied the building in silence.
Oh.
Perhaps it was the martial arts training, but he could sense more now.
Tsk tsk. Your skill at receiving guests is truly abysmal.
It’s the one ambushed by the pillar beside the main gate, right?
Is that all you see? Two more on the roof, three at nine o’clock, and another pair by the third-floor windows.
Ohhh. As always, Ha-wol. Having her was like walking around with a ultra-high-performance detector strapped to his body. She even warned him of approaching Rankers.
Anyway.
An ambush, huh.
He did not take offense. If they had shown any less caution he would have been disappointed; it would have meant they valued neither their own lives nor their guild’s future.
Creak!
The library’s front doors opened. Two men stepped out. One was a middle-aged man who looked to be in his late forties; the other was younger, solidly built, with sharp eyes. Yoon Tae-shik and Kang Jin-ho.
“That’s the Owl Guild Master,” Jang Cha-yul whispered at his side. Hyun Si-woon gave a silent nod.
“Thank you for coming all this way. I am Yoon Tae-shik, Guild Master of Owl.”
“Wandering Merchant, Hyun Si-woon.”
When the leader’s name was revealed, Yoon Tae-shik’s gaze flickered for the briefest moment.
Younger than I expected.
The youth looked barely twenty, yet the presence rolling off him had nothing to do with age.
“Before we get to business, please forgive our discourtesy.” Yoon Tae-shik bowed with formal politeness.
“Discourtesy?”
“May I confirm just one more thing?”
“……?”
Jang Cha-yul’s brow tightened slightly. What now?
“How are we to believe that Hyun Si-woon is truly a Wandering Merchant?”
“You’re saying you don’t trust us?” Jang Cha-yul’s voice turned sharp. “We chose you as our partner guild and came here in person, and you’re still questioning us?”
Her reaction was only natural. They had already extended trust, yet the other side still refused to sheathe the blade of suspicion. It was an insult to their leader and to the whole team.
“Noona.”
Hyun Si-woon’s quiet voice rose together with a raised hand.
“Calm down.”
That single phrase was enough. The woman who had been bristling a second earlier stepped back without another word. A glint of interest appeared in Yoon Tae-shik’s eyes.
Impressive.
The provocative question had been deliberate—a profiler’s instinct to test group dynamics and the leader’s temperament through the reaction. Jang Cha-yul had responded exactly as expected: fierce pride, absolute loyalty to her leader. She was poor at hiding emotion, which made her honest and trustworthy.
Hyun Si-woon, however, had exceeded every prediction.
That kind of control at his age…
He had not grown angry. He had not been flustered. With one gesture and two words he had perfectly reined in an emotionally charged teammate. There had been no scolding, no persuasion—just quiet authority that felt inevitable. That kind of command could only come from absolute trust.
This young man was unquestionably the leader of that team. Yoon Tae-shik knew it in his bones.
“There is no need to prove anything further. I believe you. Forgive my suspicion.”
“Then let’s get to the point. How did you obtain information about us, and what is this other piece of information you promised to show us…?”
“Hah, of course.” Yoon Tae-shik nodded and exchanged a look with Kang Jin-ho. When the younger man returned the nod, Yoon Tae-shik finally spoke.
“First of all, we possess an artifact called Seraphim’s Vision.”
“Seraphim’s Vision?”
Hyun Si-woon’s eyes narrowed.
Just as I thought.
Ha-wol laughed softly and nodded.
“What is it?”
“Once a month it allows us to view the real-time status of every Climber on the Republic of Korea server—remaining numbers per floor, deaths, new entrants, everything.”
“……!”
Jang Cha-yul’s eyes went wide. An item like that actually existed? Suddenly every unanswered question fell into place.
“You used it to confirm we cleared the fifth floor, and the week of radio silence after we formed the partnership lined up perfectly, so you identified us.”
“Exactly.”
Yoon Tae-shik made no attempt to hide it. He laid everything bare. That was the greatest trust he could offer.
Hyun Si-woon nodded silently.
As expected.
It was a different form from Lumi, but still a monopolistic information channel.
“Please follow me. As promised, I will show you.”
Yoon Tae-shik led them deep into the library. The place they finally reached was the server control room. When the steel door opened, a strange hologram floated in the air.
You have encountered the Climber Status Board, ‘Seraphim’s Vision’!
Once a month, you may view the climbing status of the Republic of Korea server!
“……!”
An encounter message—just like with Lumi.
“This is the source of our information.”
Yoon Tae-shik closed his eyes for a moment, as if looking into the past.
Seo-a.
His sick daughter. The doctors had been clear: modern medicine had reached its limit. With the internet dead and electricity gone, they had to find another way.
That was when traditional medicine came to mind.
This place was said to be the largest repository of old texts and forgotten folk remedies in the country.
“I spent days and nights without sleep, searching through tens of thousands of books. Just when despair almost made me give up, I stumbled upon this server room… and saw that hologram.”
“I see.”
Hyun Si-woon nodded.
“From that day we sealed this area airtight and began gathering strength. At first it was only Jin-ho and me, but like-minded people joined one by one until we became the Owl of today. Our goal is to become the greatest information guild in Korea.”
“And the reason you’re collecting information… is also for your sick daughter?”
“…….”
Yoon Tae-shik’s gaze grew more serious than it had ever been.
“Others may do it for survival, but for me, yes. That is also why I invited the Wandering Merchant here.”
“Because I’m one of the Climbers at the very front of the Tower, and you hoped I might have top-grade healing potions or elixirs with special effects?”
“If such things exist, I would stake everything I own to buy them. Even if you don’t have any right now, that’s fine. If during future climbs you ever find something that might help my daughter… would you at least share the information?”
His voice finally trembled.
“If you would only do that much, then we of Owl… no, I, Yoon Tae-shik, will do anything for you. I will share every piece of knowledge I possess and become your eyes and ears completely.”
Thud.
Without the slightest hesitation Yoon Tae-shik dropped to his knees on the floor. Kang Jin-ho’s eyes went wide, yet he could not bring himself to stop his Guild Master. The proud leader of their guild had laid everything down before a youth who looked barely twenty.
A father’s desperate plea.
Jang Cha-yul swallowed dryly without realizing it.
Tsk. The shackle called children can force even heroes and great men to their knees. This lady saw countless such men in the age I lived. For the sake of their bloodline they would sell not only their lives but their very souls. They are the easiest to handle… and the most untrustworthy of all.
Untrustworthy?
Of course. Think carefully. The moment their child’s life hangs by a thread, there is no telling what they might do. They would stab you in the back without a second thought if it meant obtaining the medicine. There is nothing good that comes from getting deeply involved with their kind.
Ha-wol’s warning was cold and entirely reasonable.
However.
She spoke again.
If you can grant that man’s wish, the story changes completely. That ruthless obsession with his bloodline will transform into absolute loyalty toward you. It would make quite a fine picture. In the era this lady lived, it would have been like laying the foundation of the Hao Gate.
Hao Gate?
A shadow organization that controlled information, assassination, and every underworld current. Once it matured properly, even emperors did not dare touch it lightly.
A faint smile touched Ha-wol’s lips.
Lord of the Hao Gate, Ya-wol.
In her mind a woman flickered—clad in pitch-black silk, soundlessly leaping across rooftops beneath the pale light of dawn. She always hid half her face behind a black veil, yet her loyalty had been clearer than anyone’s. Originally a low-ranking assassin of the Hao Gate, she had seized the entire organization and risen to its peak after Ha-wol became her backing. From then on she had been the darkest shadow of the Moon Shadow that Ha-wol led.
I wonder how she is faring…
After the fall of Moon Shadow they had scattered… but she too was an immortal Ranker; she was surely still alive somewhere.
A fleeting recollection. Ha-wol soon shook her head and returned to the present. Whether this Yoon Tae-shik could ever reach even the tips of Ya-wol’s toes remained unknown, yet the potential was there.
Judging by the information network and tenacity he has shown so far… he is worth taking under your wing at least once.
Hyun Si-woon nodded.
“Please rise.”
At the same time he helped Yoon Tae-shik to his feet.
“First… may I see your daughter?”
Deep inside the library, a makeshift sickroom held a pale-faced girl who struggled for every breath.
“……My daughter, Seo-a.”
A child who looked about twelve. Perhaps because every drop of blood seemed drained from her, her skin was as white as finely crafted porcelain.
Heavens.
A low exclamation burst from Ha-wol’s lips—filled with a surprise Hyun Si-woon had never heard from her before.
This child… possesses the Nine Yin Severed Meridians.