Loyalty Test (1)
They would take Yoon Seo-a into the party.
There was one condition: she would not climb the Tower with Hyun Si-woon. She was still too young, and their climbing party was already at full capacity. For now, she would simply receive Ha-wol’s martial arts. Only later, under Si-woon’s rigorous instruction, would she begin her ascent.
Of course, accepting her as a disciple meant her residence had to move to Eden Camp as well.
The problem is Owl…
They could not leave this place. The hologram in the server control room—Seraphim’s Vision—was fixed here.
And it doesn’t seem transferable the way Lumi is.
Besides, as an information organization, keeping their main base in Seoul—where climbers thronged—was the right call.
Still.
Si-woon decided it was only proper to at least show Yoon Tae-shik the place where his daughter would live.
Around five in the morning, Yoon Tae-shik climbed to the rooftop of an abandoned building on the outskirts with his daughter on his back, accompanied by Hyun Si-woon and Jang Cha-yul.
Some time passed.
Whoooosh!
A vast shadow fell across the sky. The monstrous bird lowered its massive body and settled gently onto the rooftop. The wind of its wings alone whipped the dust across the roof into a storm.
Yoon Tae-shik instinctively clutched his daughter and stumbled backward. Every hair on his body stood on end—a primal terror.
W-what in the world…
His eyes flooded with shock.
“Our means of transport,” Si-woon said. “Please board.”
“M-means of transport?”
What fifth-floor climber commanded a beast like this? And it was no ordinary monster. It radiated a lofty, regal presence—power that looked ready to tear a Grade 7 creature apart like paper.
Impossible.
An unknown existence their information network had never once detected. That alone sent a chill down Yoon Tae-shik’s spine. He realized how pitiful their intelligence truly was—and how deep an abyss the young man before him was concealing.
Just what is his identity?
His thoughts churned. An unimaginable capacity for supply. Overwhelming combat power that had broken through the fifth floor. And now he had tamed a divine beast of a bird and used it as a mount. Yoon Tae-shik instinctively sensed that the contract he had signed might weigh far heavier than he had imagined.
Pungjo was only the beginning of the surprises.
They flew for some time.
“We’re almost there.”
At Si-woon’s words, Yoon Tae-shik looked down—and doubted his own eyes.
The rugged, majestic ridges of Chi-ak Mountain. Nestled deep within them, the camp’s full panorama unfolded at a glance. Neatly tended fields grew with green crops; residents stood watch on the lookout towers. It looked like a peaceful rural village from before the world had fallen.
Thud!
Pungjo landed in the open square at the camp’s center, and residents already preparing for morning fieldwork came over.
“Si-woon’s back!”
“My word, and he brought guests this time!”
“There’s a little girl too? She doesn’t look well at all.”
“Come on, Mrs. Kim! We’ve got guests—let’s get some hot soup on the stove!”
“Got it~!”
A woman answered cheerfully and hurried toward the cafeteria.
“……”
Yoon Tae-shik’s mouth fell open. These people did not even flinch at Pungjo. Hospitality and concern came before wariness.
In this hell of a world… a place that still smells of people living real lives actually exists.
Everything was different from the survivor groups he had imagined. This was not a community held together by plunder and distrust, but by trust and cooperation.
“Seo-a will stay here,” Si-woon said.
Yoon Tae-shik nodded. A hundred explanations were unnecessary; the scene before him said everything. He could not deny that this place was a far better environment for his daughter than the bleak library where he himself resided.
“Boss.”
The form of address had already changed. The true leader of Owl was now Hyun Si-woon.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Go ahead.”
“Regarding the partner guilds.”
“……”
Si-woon looked at him in silence.
“We didn’t dig into them ourselves. The truth is… they approached us first, offering to sell information.”
“What?”
Jang Cha-yul, standing beside them, flared up at once.
“The partner guilds sold our information?”
“To be precise, one member from each. They demanded TC in exchange for naming the wandering merchant’s partner guilds. There was one from Dandelion Seeds, and one from Unity as well.”
Ah.
Now it made sense.
Well.
It could happen. There were a lot of people. Dandelion Seeds alone was a residual alliance of over a hundred and fifty. Unity, even centered on former special forces, numbered around twenty. Rumors spread—and more mouths only accelerated them. Unless a group controlled information as tightly as Owl, or operated with as few people as Midas’s Hand, this might have been an inevitable outcome.
I told them over and over to keep the partnership itself secret…
In the end, someone had broken that promise and sold the information for their own gain. Si-woon felt a bitter taste, yet analyzed the situation coldly. It was a problem that would have erupted eventually. Learning of it this early might even be a stroke of luck.
“And, Boss.”
Yoon Tae-shik’s expression turned grave.
“Dandelion Seeds I can understand. Unity is different.”
“How so?”
“They spilled everything for five hundred TC. That their guild master is tracking the wandering merchant’s true identity—and that once they find the location, they’ve already drawn up plans to monopolize everything for themselves.”
“……Hah?”
A hollow laugh escaped Si-woon. Beside him, Jang Cha-yul’s face went cold and hard.
Betrayal. And a particularly ugly one.
“Of course, we have to allow for the possibility that it’s false intelligence. Still… it leaves a bad taste to simply let it go.”
“It does.”
Si-woon nodded.
“Thank you for the valuable information.”
Yoon Tae-shik ate one meal and returned to headquarters. Si-woon had told Pungjo to take him as far as the outskirts, so a safe return was assured. Communication would continue through Jang Cha-yul. He also said his farewells to Yoon Seo-a.
“Seo-a, will you be all right without Dad? You won’t be scared?”
Yoon Seo-a was surprisingly brave. She only gripped her father’s hand tighter and smiled.
“It’s okay, Dad. Everyone here seems nice. And… I don’t want to be sick anymore. I want to get strong. Like you.”
Yoon Tae-shik could only pull his daughter into a fierce hug, then let her go.
After he left, Si-woon gathered the members to share what he had learned from Yoon Tae-shik.
“Does this even make sense right now, Hyeong-nim?”
Hwang Dae-un was the first to explode.
“There’s a limit to repaying kindness with a knife in the back! Those bastards might’ve starved to death without us, and they’re plotting to stab us from behind?”
Baek Yeon-ho clicked his tongue and shook his head.
“Hah, Unity… I expected better from special forces vets.”
Baek Do-hee’s expression was no better. Dandelion Seeds’ betrayal, in particular, struck her with deeper disappointment.
Then—
“I’m sorry, Hyeong-nim.”
Hwang Dae-un bowed his head.
“The people I recommended turned out like this… I have no face left to show you.”
“Drop it. Nothing’s confirmed yet.”
“But Hyeong-nim…”
“And even if it is confirmed, that still isn’t your fault.”
Dae-un had simply reviewed applications and selected groups by strength. Believing you could judge human nature from a few lines of text was arrogance itself.
“If anything, this works out. I was planning to put them through something eventually… so let’s settle it properly this time.”
“How?”
Baek Yeon-ho asked. Si-woon smiled.
“A loyalty test.”
“……!”
“Every guild except Owl. We set the board ourselves and shake them. Find out who’s truly on our side—and whose heads we need to take.”
Betrayal was not tolerated. But first, they needed solid proof. And that proof was something Si-woon intended to manufacture himself.
The test itself was simpler than expected. The results, however, would not be simple at all.
Si-woon contacted Yoon Tae-shik at once. Owl would play the central role in this test.
The next morning, a letter arrived for each partner guild’s leader.
An official mail from Owl. As the guild masters checked the message, their faces hardened in different ways.
Partnership intelligence was top secret—and Owl knew?
The contents ran as follows: due to some accident, most of the wandering merchant’s party had been killed, and the merchant himself was in critical condition. Supply disruptions were likely soon. The mail was sent to demonstrate their information power, and if the recipients wished to form a new business relationship in the future, they were free to make contact anytime.
The logic held. Partners of the wandering merchant would have accumulated considerable TC—and that meant money.
An hour later.
“All right. Send it.”
Si-woon gave the order, and another mail went out.
A notice that proved Owl’s information true. Supply suspended. The bait had been cast.
Inside the meeting room.
“First off—we already got one.”
Baek Yeon-ho raised a hand.
“Just got word from Midas’s Hand. Says an information guild called Owl seems to have their intel, and they don’t understand how.”
The mail he shared was concise, but it hit every essential point.
“Huh.”
A note of genuine admiration escaped Hwang Dae-un.
“Those guys are the real deal. We haven’t even properly started, and they’re already reporting on their own.”
Exactly. The next step was for Owl to send an anonymous proposer to cast a lure of temptation. Before that even happened, Midas’s Hand had already sensed the anomaly of an information leak and reported it to them.
“Their guild master—said he was a merchant, but his read on the situation is sharp.”
Park Du-shik. Alias: God of Market Price. He had not treated this as a threat or opportunity aimed at himself. He had simply recognized a problem that had struck a trading partner, and moved first to verify the reliability of the contractual relationship. A merchant’s fundamentals. A man who instinctively understood that once trust collapsed, everything collapsed.
Baek Yeon-ho shrugged.
“This is enough to trust them, right? I’ve always had a decent eye for people.”
“Agreed.”
Si-woon answered briefly. Midas’s Hand had passed the test. No—they were a perfect partner who had never needed testing in the first place.
“What about Si-a’s side?”
Si-woon’s gaze turned to Kang Si-a. She shook her head calmly.
“No contact yet.”
Medallist. Won Seong-jun’s guild, known for caution and care for their comrades. They had shown no reaction of any kind. They might be analyzing the situation internally—or considering something else entirely.
“Do-hee noona and Dae-un?”
“Nothing on my end either.”
“Those Unity bastards… this might actually be real.”
Baek Do-hee and Hwang Dae-un were the same. Dandelion Seeds and Unity—both guilds remained silent. Well. That was possible. Each might need time to interpret the situation in their own way.
The real problem… starts now.
The corner of Si-woon’s mouth curled upward.