See You at the Top (2)
Cheon Mu-jong. The moment those three syllables left his lips, both Kim Yeo-ul and Lee Min-ji went blank. Who was that again? They were sure they’d heard the name before. It wasn’t a common surname, and it sounded somehow similar to Cheon I-hwa… Wait, hadn’t the manager just called him “Mr. President”?
“Up we go.”
Chae Mu-jin hoisted Kim Yeo-ul into a chair, then dragged another over for Lee Min-ji and pressed her shoulder until she sat. Finally he took his own seat. The interview setup was complete.
“Hwa-ya. Did you eat breakfast?”
“There’s a seminar tonight, so I skipped it.”
“Your stomach will start growling on an empty belly. At least have a banana before you go.”
“Fine.”
The casual father-daughter exchange between Cheon I-hwa and Cheon Mu-jong made the other three look like strangers who had wandered into the wrong house.
“Are you really the Association President Cheon Mu-jong?” Lee Min-ji finally gathered the courage to ask. Cheon Mu-jong chuckled warmly.
“Even if I said no, everyone else calls me President, so I suppose I must be.”
“But why do you look so old? When I saw you on NewTube a year ago, you still looked middle-aged.”
Kim Yeo-ul had never paid much attention to other people, so his ignorance was expected. But Lee Min-ji was a veteran hunter; she should have recognized the President’s face. The reason she hadn’t was exactly as she said—he had aged dramatically in a short time.
Suddenly feeling a sharp stare, Lee Min-ji turned her head and met Cheon I-hwa’s eyes. The younger woman was glaring at her. Having lost both parents young and started a brutal hunter life while others studied, Lee Min-ji had never been very good with etiquette.
Cheon Mu-jong waved a hand at his daughter to say it was fine and spoke gently.
“Little one, not every question that pops into your head needs to be asked out loud. You should consider the position of the person who has to answer.”
“Ah… I’m sorry.”
“I personally don’t think ignorance is a sin, but not everyone feels the same. Do be careful.”
His tone was kind, like a grandfather speaking to his granddaughter. There was no killing intent or pressure, yet Lee Min-ji still felt overwhelmed and nodded with a dazed expression.
Cheon Mu-jong’s gaze shifted to Kim Yeo-ul. The boy immediately started hiccupping.
“Little mage, why do you want to become a licensed hunter?”
Neither of them were actually children, but neither Kim Yeo-ul nor Lee Min-ji felt the least bit awkward or offended by the term. If anything, it felt natural. From the President’s perspective, they probably did look like fragile little kids.
“M-my… my little sister… she…”
The excessive tension made his already poor pronunciation even worse. Cheon Mu-jong simply laced his fingers together and waited patiently. When it became too painful to watch, Chae Mu-jin placed a hand on Kim Yeo-ul’s shoulder.
“Take your time. Breathe.”
“Huu… My little sister has the Awakening Disease. I heard the Association doctors could treat it.”
“…The Awakening Disease has no cure.”
“Ah… ah…”
The Awakening Disease, triggered by prolonged overexposure to mana, was known as an incurable condition. You either overcame it and awakened, or you died. There were only two outcomes. However, there was a “procedure” that artificially increased the odds of successful awakening. The problem was that the only person who could perform it was Cheon Mu-jong himself.
Not only was his schedule booked solid for the next three years, but even if a slot opened, there was no chance he would use it on the sister of a mere D-rank hunter.
“However, if you become a licensed hunter, you could be admitted to Korea’s best hospital without waiting in line.”
Kim Yeo-ul’s head dropped. Becoming a licensed hunter had been his only hope. Hearing that treatment was impossible left his mind completely empty. Cheon Mu-jong was human; he did feel a twinge of pity. But that was all. His business with the boy was finished.
Finally he looked at Chae Mu-jin, only to find an odd expression on the young man’s face.
“Why do you look so angry?”
Chae Mu-jin’s face was twisted in a deep scowl, eyes fixed on the President.
“Because I am angry.”
“Is it because I said the Awakening Disease cannot be cured?”
“Who knows. I’m just irritated.”
“If you have anger management issues, becoming a licensed hunter will be difficult.”
“Mr. President. If the kids are done with their interviews, why don’t you send them out?”
“Once your interview is finished as well, I’ll send you all out together.”
A strange tension crackled between Chae Mu-jin and Cheon Mu-jong.
“Then I’ll take that as permission to speak here.”
“Speak about what? I’m quite curious.”
The interview room now held only the President and me. Cheon Mu-jong set his cane aside and straightened his back. The frail old man from before vanished, replaced by an overwhelming presence that seemed to fill the entire large room.
“I thought you were an interesting child, but you’re actually dangerous.”
His voice remained soft, yet it carried the weight of a bomb—one wrong word and it would detonate. This wasn’t part of the plan, but I had no regrets. I despised nothing more than the strong who casually trampled on the hopes of the weak.
‘No cure for the Awakening Disease? There’s a procedure that can raise the survival rate. Why hide it?’
Of course I understood. The procedure was extremely expensive and the waiting list was absurdly long. But was it really that hard to say so? If he had simply told Kim Yeo-ul, “The procedure exists, but realistically you won’t be able to receive it,” the boy could have at least held onto hope.
“First, I apologize. It was my mistake to suddenly bring up that day out of anger.”
Anger was one thing; cleanup was another. Fortunately, Cheon Mu-jong wasn’t the type to lose control either.
“Heh, hehehe. Getting angry, then calm again. You really do as you please.”
“Our Chae family has always been a bit like that.”
“I need an explanation first. How you know about what happened three years ago.”
“I’ll answer honestly, so please promise you won’t hit me.”
“I can’t make that promise.”
“Just testing the waters.”
“…What?”
Of course I knew exactly what Cheon Mu-jong had done in New Japan three years ago. But explaining how I knew would require admitting I heard it directly from him in my previous life. Making something up wouldn’t work either; the old snake was too sharp to fall for forced plausibility.
“Three years ago, eyewitness accounts of seeing you in New Japan appeared online. It never made the news, just circulated on NewTube and various communities. Most people assumed it was a case of mistaken identity, but as you know, people love to speculate wildly.”
I shrugged and checked Cheon Mu-jong’s expression. His eyes told me to continue.
“There were many theories about why the President—who hated New Japan more than anyone—would go there alone. I apologize, but I saw one post at the time that was genuinely funny.”
“What was it?”
“It said that when you were young, you loved pudding, and it happened to be Japanese-made. Then Japan became New Japan and trade was cut off. So you supposedly sneaked in to get your hands on some. I remember laughing and thinking, ‘That actually makes sense.’”
Cheon Mu-jong snatched my phone with an incredulous look.
“So you used that to test me, and I fell for it beautifully?”
“Yes.”
“Search for that post right now and show me.”
“Of course.”
When I lied, there were only two cases: when getting caught didn’t matter, or when I was certain I wouldn’t get caught.
“Here it is.”
A search for “Cheon Mu-jong pudding” brought up the three-year-old post at the very top. Cheon Mu-jong took my phone again, still refusing to bend his back.
“The fundamental question remains. Why were you angry?”
“Because you crushed Kim Yeo-ul’s hope. Even if there’s no cure for the Awakening Disease, the procedure can raise the chance of becoming an awakened, can’t it?”
“Interesting. Did you see that information online as well?”
“During my military service, I belonged to the Anti-Demon Special Forces. I heard it from Hunter Im I-un there. He said he became an awakened through that very procedure.”
Since this was also a real event, even if Cheon Mu-jong investigated, there would be no problem.
“Anti-Demon Special Forces… To have retired from that place with all your limbs intact is impressive.”
The President bent at the waist again. His overwhelming presence receded, and I straightened my own back in response.
“I know the Awakening Disease procedure is expensive and the waiting list is long. For a bottom-feeder hunter like Kim Yeo-ul, receiving it would be realistically difficult. You probably thought it better not to give him false hope, but I disagree. Even if it’s impossible, there must always be hope.”
As I spoke, I realized something. The reason Kim Yeo-ul became the worst villain in history was probably because his sister eventually died from the Awakening Disease, causing him to go berserk and completely surrender his body to Yacha. It was speculation, but it fit perfectly.
“…When people lose hope, they can become monsters. I hope you will keep that in mind, Mr. President.”
“Are you trying to lecture me?”
“I believe learning has nothing to do with age.”
“Heh, hehehe. Hahaha!”
Cheon Mu-jong shuffled back to his chair and sat down. Even though he was laughing like a kindly old man, I knew better. He didn’t enjoy violence, but he didn’t shy away from murder either. The reason I could still act boldly was because I understood his personality. Cheon Mu-jong hated cowards. That was why, although there might be con artists around him, there wasn’t a single coward.
“I’ve been properly schooled.”
“I’m grateful for your mercy.”
“Mercy? Are you saying I would kill you? Why? You’re the supporter with the highest attack buff in the world.”
“You don’t seem like the type to care about such things, Mr. President.”
“Hmm, do I really look that vicious?”
“Not vicious so much as decisive, I would say.”
“I can’t get a read on you at all. You get angry, then apologize. You’re rude, then perfectly polite.”
“Our Chae family has always been a bit…”
“Sit. My neck hurts.”
With his permission, I sat down again. Cheon Mu-jong’s expression brightened once more, yet I could also feel a heavy affection directed at me.
“Then let’s get to the main topic. You wouldn’t have sent the children out and asked to see me just to give me advice, would you?”
“No. There is something else I wanted to tell you.”
“That’s right. Weren’t you the one who told me to come find you? So here I am.”
“Thank you for making time despite your busy schedule. To get straight to the point without wasting time…”
I cleared my throat briefly, buying a moment. The truth was, the first time Cheon Mu-jong had come looking for me, I had already decided how to interact with him. Not too close, not too distant.
“I would like to propose a secret alliance.”
Cheon Mu-jong could say it with certainty. Among everyone he had ever met, Chae Mu-jin was the single most interesting and entertaining person.
“An alliance? Just that word doesn’t tell me your intentions. And you even add ‘secret’ to it—my head hurts already.”
“As you’ve probably already noticed, I have no intention of becoming a licensed hunter.”
“Then why did you take the exam?”
“Because it was the most natural way to meet you, Mr. President.”
“…You’re voluntarily revealing such a sinister plan?”
My real goal was to find hunters worth raising, but I couldn’t say that. So I gave him a different reason—one he would like to hear.
“You’re not the type to be fooled, so why would I even try?”
“Was there a buff that turns people into flatterers? Stop trying to butter me up.”
“I’ll tone it down. Anyway, to continue, I want to borrow your name, Mr. President. In return, you will gain my assistance. The premise is that both sides will help each other no matter the situation.”
“What do you plan to use my name for?”
“I’m going to use it to build a ship.”
It wasn’t a straightforward answer, but Cheon Mu-jong understood exactly what “ship” meant. Adventure. Since ancient times, ships had been symbols of adventure.
“A ship going where?”
“This ship has no destination.”
Cheon Mu-jong looked thoroughly unimpressed.
“You want me to board a ship that doesn’t even know where it’s going?”
“There’s a misunderstanding. This ship isn’t going anywhere.”
“Hmm?”
If I wanted to speak simply, I could have. I was planning to create a management company for hunters and needed the President’s help. But that scale was far too small to convince someone like Cheon Mu-jong. So I decided to show him a glimpse of the true meaning behind establishing a hunter management agency.
“I intend to build a very large ship. One that can keep everyone alive when the Apocalypse-class wave hits.”
Cheon Mu-jong’s eyes widened. He had thought the ship only symbolized adventure. To think there was another meaning.
“…What do you plan to build this ship out of?”
“Definitely not pine wood. I plan to use the hardest and most flexible material in the world.”
Noah had built an ark according to God’s revelation and saved many people. I wasn’t religious, but since the President was Catholic, he understood my metaphor perfectly.
“I won’t ask what exactly you plan to do. I don’t have the energy for that. But I do need to confirm whether you have the qualifications to build such a ship.”
“I’ll apply a buff.”
I didn’t have to, but I deliberately reached my palm toward him. I had already shown in the first test how fast I could cast buffs, so there was no need to hide it. Cheon Mu-jong looked startled. He had heard reports that the casting speed was incredibly fast, but this exceeded even his imagination.
‘If that boy had learned swordsmanship, he would have reached the pinnacle of swift blades.’
The speed was so astonishing that Cheon Mu-jong clicked his tongue in genuine regret. To waste such god-given talent on nothing but buffs.
“I have raised your physical attack power.”
“They said you raised it by 900 during the first test. Did you use the same value?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
The President experimentally poked the table with his finger. The high-quality wooden table wasn’t just beautiful—it was more durable than steel—yet his finger sank straight through it like poking ice cream.
“Just as I heard.”
He offered verbal praise, but he didn’t seem particularly surprised. A 900-point attack buff wasn’t an impossible figure. But Chae Mu-jin knew that too.
“The duration is twelve hours.”
“…You must mean twelve seconds.”
“No. Twelve hours.”
“That’s too much of a joke. I wouldn’t believe it even if you said twelve minutes, but twelve hours? Do you even know how much mana that would require?”
“Wouldn’t it need to be at least that much for me to talk about an alliance with you?”
“…You’re saying that for physical attack power alone, not only the value but the duration increases by several dozen times?”
Cheon Mu-jong pressed his temple for a moment, then nodded.
“I left my contact information on your phone. But remember this—I am evaluating you very highly.”
“I won’t contact you over trivial matters.”
As Chae Mu-jin stood to leave, Cheon Mu-jong spoke to his back.
“Let’s have a meal together next time.”
It might have been a mere formality, but Chae Mu-jin pointed his finger at the ceiling.
“See you at the top then.”
When he had entered, he had pointed at the floor.
“The bottom is too crowded.”