#40 I Must Know That
Early in the morning, Kang-ho sipped his hot Americano while gazing out the cafe window. Beyond the morning crowd, he could see people bustling about in the busy streets. Watching them hurry made him think back to the world fifty years ago.
Back then, and even now.
But people were still living their lives at a frantic pace. Kang-ho turned his gaze forward.
"It's been forever since we hung out like this, oppa."
Lee Min-ah smiled brightly at him.
"Yeah, it has."
"I wanna see you more often, but I'm just too slammed."
She sighed into her iced Americano.
"I'm almost eighty now. Don't you think it's time I quit getting worked to the bone like some old hag?"
She looked like she was in her twenties, but she was a witch from the Mu continent. Witches spent eighty percent of their lives in their prime, but inside, she was already worn out.
Kang-ho chuckled silently, and she pouted.
"Don't laugh. I'm serious. I wanna retire and live peacefully before I kick the bucket..."
She murmured blankly at the air.
"I wonder if I'll ever set foot on my homeland again—"
"......"
Kang-ho gave a bitter smile and lifted his coffee cup.
"You asked about Phantom?"
He nodded at her words.
"Why's the media so quiet about Napa's guild master getting robbed? Three reasons."
She shrugged.
"First, the Big 3's pride. Getting stolen from by a thief? Total embarrassment, so they don't announce it."
"Second?"
"Second... they're shady goods."
"Hm?"
Seeing his expression, she sighed.
"Napa's a raid powerhouse. Dungeons and raids are their main gig, so they subcontract a ton."
Dungeon clears weren't just about guild members. You needed logistics, porters, laborers—various support. Subcontract guilds handled that, creating natural contractor-sub dynamics.
"And in that process... shady stuff happens. Like delaying payments or shorting loot rewards to cut pay."
She rubbed her eyes, exhaustion heavy in them.
"So probably unlisted items. Guild secrets, known only to the top brass—stolen goods."
"Third?"
"Third, Phantom's popularity."
"Popularity?"
"Steals only dirty stuff and returns it as loot to the victims. Doesn't touch the good clean shit. So they're loved. Admit getting hit, and you get flamed. Drives you nuts..."
She grimaced.
"Gang warehouses get hit by the dozens. Even big guilds sometimes. But only the shady crap gets taken. Victims don't report; they handle it in-house."
"Intriguing."
"Not intriguing... this world's a total mess."
Her face was darkening. Kang-ho snickered, and she clutched her forehead.
"What's their identity? Can't catch 'em?"
"Identity... we suspect otherworlder. Maybe foreigner. High rank? Low? We're dying... too much work..."
A total phantom thief.
Kang-ho nodded lightly.
"Tough gig."
"You have no idea. I'm retiring soon. Dead serious."
She nodded firmly. Kang-ho got to the point.
"Lebadon—anything weird in the last year?"
"Lebadon?"
Her face turned serious.
"No major red flags. But rumors of weirdly high missing persons in the last year."
Kang-ho's eyes flashed.
"Since when?"
"Hmm..."
She pulled out her smartphone, scrolled, and nodded.
"After last year's Antares raid in southern Daegu."
Antares. Raid-grade monster.
"Heavy casualties there. But info's scarce."
"Why?"
"Lebadon's closed-off nature. Even in this faction-war era, there's some openness—external ops, exchanges, guild Awakeners on TV."
Kang-ho nodded.
"Not Lebadon. Core ops handled by blood relatives only. No exchanges. Super insular. No leaks. Plus..."
"......they hate us because of Jun-seok, so no Association intel. They own Daejeon—economy, society. Self-sufficient. And mages are weird, unique... oh."
She grumbled, then realized she was a mage too and looked hurt.
Antares raid.
Pyro, the magic sword Kang Tae-wang wielded, was raid loot. After that, Kang Tae-yong went into seclusion.
And—
"Hmm."
Kang-ho nodded.
Krreung—
On the penthouse rooftop, Furball sat like a stone statue. In the city, he could lounge like this for days.
Kang-ho approached.
"What're you watching?"
He smiled warmly. Furball grinned and licked his face with a big tongue.
Krreung— Krreung—
His gaze fixed on the humans below in the city streets. A monster who loved people-watching.
Kang-ho stroked his fur.
"Not bored, buddy?"
Then, suddenly.
"Huh?"
He spotted something tied to Furball's chin.
"What's this?"
Furball's chin fur was tied in a neat black sparkly ribbon scarf. He panted happily at Kang-ho, eyes begging for praise.
Who did this?
Kang-ho thought, then chuckled.
"Aw, you look so pretty, Furball. Super handsome."
Krreung! Krreung!
Daejeon, Lebadon mansion.
In the guild master's office sat Kang Tae-hoon.
"Haa..."
Father was in seclusion again. The shock must've been huge.
The youngest was a wreck. Mana core shattered—inevitable discharge.
"Father..."
He rubbed his temples. Duties naturally fell to him as vice master. Workload exploding.
Among Lebadons, he alone had the opposite temperament—peace-loving, harmonious.
Unlike father and Tae-wang. Tae-wang didn't dine with guildmates; Tae-hoon was friendly with all.
Already a year.
He sighed deeply.
A year ago, during Antares raid—many deaths and missings.
That's when cracks formed in Lebadon's iron fortress.
Father secluded, ops creaking, now Tae-wang broken. Headache city.
He stared at his smartphone, pondering.
One step at a time.
Yeah. Lebadon ops were his now. He'd untangle the knots, step by step.
He stared at the saved name, hesitating long, then slowly hit call.
At least say sorry...
Drring—
Immediately, he hung up.
What right do I have now?
He'd always felt guilty toward King, but he'd been a bystander.
No shame...
Father and brothers' abuse, the accident—he'd watched. Sure, he'd cared a bit for King, but that didn't change facts.
Like that makes me not a bad guy? Same as Father.
He sighed deeply.
He was Lebadon through and through. No apology, sincere or not, would bridge that gulf. Or heal it.
Dammit...
Abandoning the call, he scratched his head wildly.
Another headache: mysterious missings.
Four already. And promising ones.
Then.
Vrrr—
His phone buzzed wildly. Reading the message, his eyes widened in shock.
"What...?"
Rubbing his eyes and checking again—same.
"No way... total wipeout...?"
Western Daejeon mid-size dungeon clear. Dispatched yesterday. No survivors confirmed.
Where...? Yesterday's dispatch.
Lebadon Hunting Team 3 for mid-size dungeon clear: total wipe.
Team 3—not huge, but three B-ranks, one A-rank. Ten total.
That A-rank, Kim Myung-joo.
"Wiped by that lineup...?"
Same age as him, childhood guildmate.
Dungeon investigation stat. Wipes weren't normal these days.
"Agh, my head."
He wanted to cry.
...I can't take this pressure.
At 3 a.m., he left the office.
The mansion was eerily quiet tonight. Walking slowly, childhood memories surfaced.
The innocent days of laughter here.
Better when I knew nothing...
Quick steps across the yard, out the mansion.
Behind: low hills. Father secluded there.
Like possessed...
Father needed to return. Wipeout was serious.
Heading to the hills, midway up, he sensed presence.
Huh?
Ahead. Eerie mana.
Mana...?
Instinctively, he dove into bushes, suppressing his mana.
Ahead. Footsteps approaching.
Murderous mana wafting—familiar.
Then.
Moonlight revealed the figure.
Father...?
Father looked off. Vital energy blazing like fire.
And...
What's happening?
Smiling faintly. Eyes sharper than ever. And...
He's younger...!
Something was up. Tae-hoon swallowed.
Secluded father wandering, this mysterious youthening.
Unthinkingly, he tailed him.
Thud thud—
Kang Tae-yong, the Wind God, stopped at mid-hill cave.
Heavy iron door. Hand extended—it swung wide.
Whiiiiiinnnng—!
Blasting north winds everywhere.
Tae-hoon shivered involuntarily.
Creeeak— door rattled in gales.
Father entered. Tae-hoon deep-breathed.
Father. What are you hiding...?
Then.
He resolved.
I must know.
He stepped toward the ajar iron door.