A President's Plea
Eugene arrived at the Korean Hospital and headed straight inside. When he approached the reception desk, the staff member recognized him and stood up.
“You’re the guardian for patient Sua, right? We were told to guide you immediately upon arrival. A sponsor has proposed moving her to the upper-floor VIP ward, so we wanted to confirm with you first.”
“VIP ward?”
“Yes. The sponsor has expressed willingness to cover both the room and treatment costs, and the hospital director decided it was appropriate to handle the arrangements personally.”
Eugene fell silent for a moment. VIP ward. Even the daily room fee there was beyond what ordinary people could dream of. Moving a long-term patient like Sua wasn't just about switching rooms.
Who the hell.
Anonymous sponsorship. Treatment cost support. VIP ward relocation proposal. Any one of these was unreal enough on its own. Yet they were all piling up at once, right now.
Who was pulling the strings here, and for what purpose?
Eugene had never experienced kindness like this before. That made him all the more uneasy.
He silently brought his hand to his mouth.
“And… there’s one more thing we need to tell you privately.”
Eugene’s gaze shifted to the staff member. “Something else?”
The staff hesitated for a moment before nodding faintly. “Yes. Another person expressed sponsorship intent today.”
Eugene’s eyes narrowed. Another one, besides the anonymous donor?
“This time, it’s not anonymous.”
The staff continued cautiously. “They gave their full name and specifically said they wanted to speak with you.”
“Who is it?”
The staff glanced around before answering softly. “It’s Choi Cheolseung. Do you know him?”
“Choi Cheolseung…?”
Eugene silently mulled over the name. It was completely unfamiliar. Not from family, nor anyone his parents knew.
“Is he here now?”
“No. He stopped by just a bit ago. He asked us to give you this when you arrived.”
The staff handed over a small memo slip. It bore a name and a phone number.
Choi Cheolseung
010-XXXX-XXXX
“He said to call this number whenever you have time.”
Eugene took the memo without a word. It was just a thin slip of paper, yet it felt strangely heavy.
Eugene pushed open the door and stepped into the coffee shop. His quick scan of the interior stopped at the window seat. There sat a middle-aged man in a neat suit, alone. On the table lay an untouched cup of coffee and a slim envelope.
The man met Eugene’s eyes and slowly rose from his seat.
Eugene stared at him wordlessly.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Choi Cheolseung.”
Eugene cut straight to the chase. “Why are you sponsoring Sua?”
Choi offered a faint smile and gestured to the seat across from him. “Please, have a seat first. I won’t keep you long.”
Only then did Eugene slowly pull out the chair and sit. But he didn’t drop his guard. He stayed ready to move at any moment.
A brief silence passed. Choi spoke first.
“Let me start with an introduction. I’m Choi Cheolseung, President of the Korean Awakener Association.”
At those words, Eugene’s pupils trembled. Association President. His mind instantly grew chaotic. Black Abyss Gate, irregular gates, Baeksa Guild, the promotion exam incident—everything he’d been through flashed by in an instant.
He’d been too complacent. He’d thought he was moving quietly, hiding his identity, erasing his tracks.
But the president showing up personally meant his actions were already exposed to the Association.
Eugene bit his lip, forcing his expression to harden.
“To the point: I want to bring you into the Association, Eugene-ssi.”
Eugene’s eyes narrowed. “You’re here to recruit me?”
“Yes.”
“Even with the sponsorship?”
“Precisely. I needed a reason to start this conversation.”
Choi continued calmly. “Better the Association moves first, before someone else gets involved.”
His gaze fixed directly on Eugene. “Black Abyss Gate, irregular gates, Baeksa Guild, and now the promotion exam incident. Too many coincidences. And you were at the center of them all.”
“……”
Eugene said nothing. He had no defense, even if he wanted one. With his tracks exposed, they must know something already.
That wasn’t the point. He needed to figure out the Association’s true goal. It couldn’t be simple recruitment.
Silence stretched. Only soft music played faintly in the cafe.
Eugene stared at Choi wordlessly, and Choi met his gaze without flinching.
Choi moved first.
“I’m begging you.”
Choi slowly bowed his head. The president of the Association—bowing first to a stranger.
The unexpected sight made Eugene’s eyes flicker faintly.
Choi raised his head, his voice heavy. “The Association needs someone like you. Gates are appearing more frequently every year since the Great Cataclysm.”
His gaze drifted briefly to the window, then back. “We look like we’re holding on the surface, but reality is different. The front lines are nearing their limit. We’re critically short on high-rank Awakeners, yet high-grade gates keep multiplying.”
He took a breath before continuing. “Even endurance has its limits. If things continue like this, collapse is inevitable.”
Choi paused. Until now, they’d barely held thanks to Yuseorin. Even disaster gates had been contained somehow.
But then, as if heaven tossed them a chance, the impregnable Black Abyss Gate was cleared. And an anomalous variable appeared—one that defied all logic.
The man sitting before him now. Eugene.
Choi looked Eugene straight in the eye. “If there’s anything you truly want, the Association will make it happen. Hospital support, of course, and a full environment for your sister’s treatment. If you wish, we’ll bring the world’s top doctors. Costs, procedures—all on us.”
He spoke without hesitation. “Name your needs. Anything within the Association’s power, we’ll provide.”
Anything. Such an easy word to say. But Choi’s expression held no bluff or exaggeration. His calm made it ring even more sincere.
“So, I beg you.”
Choi bowed his head once more. “We need someone like you.”
Eugene stared at him silently. World’s top doctors. The Association’s full backing. Tempting conditions, so sweet they heightened his wariness.
Yet impossible to ignore. Sua. The name flashed in his mind, shaking his gaze for a moment.
He’d endured so far. Risked his life for hospital bills, grown stronger to carve his path.
But that was just a stopgap. Stronger enemies or bigger crises would threaten Sua first.
To protect her, he needed a solid safety net. And if that net came with this offer, it wasn’t bad.
Eugene didn’t answer right away. He weighed his options in silence.
He couldn’t know if it was truly right. But for now, it was the most practical choice.
“Fine. But… on two conditions.”
Eugene slowly raised two fingers.
“First. The Association takes full responsibility for Sua’s safety and treatment, to the end.”
He folded one finger. Sua’s safety was his biggest concern. He’d set a minimal safeguard via Aria, but it wasn’t enough.
“Second. Guarantee my gate entry rights. For any gate I deem necessary, the Association clears the path. No procedures or permissions holding me back for pointless reasons.”
He needed growth. And for that, no more chains like needless rank exams. What he required now was freedom to act.
Choi Cheolseung settled into the car and slowly turned his head. Yuseorin sat in the seat beside him.
“No way… Eugene…”
Yuseorin murmured in disbelief. When she’d first heard from the president, it had been hard to accept.
But it was undeniable reality. All the recent events pointed to it.
“I’m just as shocked, Se-rin. Never imagined your childhood friend was that Eugene.”
Choi let out a short breath. “More importantly, why the anonymous donation? You could’ve met him directly.”
“That’s…”
Yuseorin clenched her fist tightly without a word.
Whatever she said now would sound like an excuse. She didn’t feel she had the right.
For so long, Yuseorin had charged ahead, eyes fixed forward. After awakening, she’d never reached out first. Gates erupted endlessly; if she didn’t step up, countless people died.
The day before she left, she hadn’t even properly said goodbye to Eugene. Sua’s condition worsened suddenly, and she lost consciousness.
Even if it was abrupt, using that as an excuse felt hollow after so much time.
Back then, she’d believed it was the right path. If her sacrifice could protect humanity, Eugene would be happy for her—just as he’d once protected her, now she protected others.
Streetlights flashed briefly across Yuseorin’s face through the window.
The old Eugene had always been there in her darkest moments. Quietly, unobtrusively, one step behind.
Yet she knew nothing of the life he’d endured, the pain of his sister, the burdens he’d shouldered.
Too late. She couldn’t deny that.
And that terrified her most—that he might resent her. He’d stood by her silently in her hardship, but when he’d needed her most, she’d done nothing. The thought crushed her chest.
Yuseorin slowly unclenched her fist. Deep nail marks indented her palm.
I’m sorry…
The belated regret finally slipped past her lips.