#8 Kang-ho?
It felt just like a nightmare.
"Wh-what...?"
The white monster leaped silently from rooftop to rooftop, not making a single sound. No one noticed it moving. Yoon Jung-woo shot to his feet and drew the sword from his waist. He shouted urgently into his radio.
"E-emergency! Sh-Sh-Shabel Tiger-like object heading fast to the tower!"
Pop, pop, pop!
And in an instant, Yoon Jung-woo could only yelp in shock at the white furball standing right in front of him like a ghost.
"L-landed... on the tower..."
Suddenly, Yoon Jung-woo recalled the one thing he always heard while standing guard.
"A twenty-something guy might show up riding a Shabel Tiger someday. Check Emergency Response Manual Article 3, Section 1."
"He's the chairman's old friend—just guide him in."
Gulp!
Until now, he'd thought it was just a joke or urban legend since it'd never happened. But the Shabel Tiger before Yoon Jung-woo's eyes was larger than any he'd ever seen. Its presence far surpassed A-rank.
He was a member of the Mercenary Guild's raid team and held a nationally certified B-rank Awakener license. There were only ten SS-rank Awakeners in Korea, about thirty S-rank, and roughly a hundred A-rank. Then came the B-ranks. Even reaching B-rank qualified you for the 5th-grade civil service exam—a rank that commanded serious respect.
And a Shabel Tiger was something ten B-rank Awakeners might barely take down.
Yet...
'Where the hell did this monster come from...? Looks like at least S-rank...'
Cold sweat dripped down his back unbidden, and strength drained from his sword-grip.
Huff, huff, huff—
Suddenly, the Shabel Tiger rolled its massive eyes and opened its mouth.
'I-I'm dead!'
And then—whoosh—
He felt its tongue lick him, and he collapsed right there on the spot.
"This guy—if you mess around, you're useless."
As the man beside it scolded, the Shabel Tiger quickly looked dejected and retreated to the far side of the rooftop, standing at attention.
Tat-tat-tat!
Around then, Awakeners rushed onto the rooftop. Among them, a man in his forties scanned left and right before approaching Yoon Jung-woo.
"T-team leader."
It was Kim Ho-cheol, the raid team leader of the Mercenary Guild. After assessing the situation, he let out a sigh of relief and bowed his head to the man standing opposite Yoon Jung-woo.
"It's been a while, Senior."
"Yeah, it has. He inside?"
"He is."
"Got some business—"
"Of course. I'll escort you myself... Senior Choi Kang-ho."
Kang-ho nodded awkwardly.
"Furball, behave."
Soon, the team leader patted the shoulder of the slumped Yoon Jung-woo, and he and Kang-ho headed down the rooftop door via the stairs.
"They've got guards here now too?"
Kang-ho asked as he walked slowly with the team leader.
"Yes, gate outbreaks have picked up since last year... and things are unsettled in general."
The team leader replied politely.
Kang-ho scratched his head sheepishly.
"Back in the day, there were no guards here, so I'd come on purpose. Sorry if I caused a fuss. Understand—Furball sometimes wants to people-watch."
"Not at all. You're always welcome."
Kang-ho grinned. The two men walked a wide, impeccably maintained marble corridor. They arrived at a door carved with antique sculptures.
Knock knock—
The team leader who knocked spoke up.
"Chairman, Senior Choi Kang-ho is here."
Soon, heavy footsteps thudded, and the door swung wide open. There stood a rugged old man with a full head of white hair. His bushy beard framed a suit, and a cigar dangled from his lips.
"Kang-ho?"
"Yeah."
Kang-ho nodded with a grin.
"Come in! Haha!"
He was Im Cheol-bae, guild master of the Mercenary Guild.
Im Cheol-bae. The name always came with the moniker "Hero 5". He was one of the five heroes who'd shone brightest in the Great War. Codename: Iron Fist King.
True to the name, his ability was the explosive martial "Iron Fist". His suit strained to contain his bulging muscles.
Kang-ho followed the nearly two-meter-tall, burly Im Cheol-bae and plopped onto a luxury sofa.
"Kang-ho, you rascal! Long time no see!"
Im Cheol-bae boomed with laughter, grabbing a whiskey bottle and sitting opposite.
He stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray after a few puffs and spoke.
"You're alive, huh?"
"What about it."
Kang-ho grinned.
"Have a drink."
Im Cheol-bae was the classic old-school type. When reuniting with a friend, booze was mandatory. You'd drink till your nose went numb, nurse a hangover the next day groaning—that was bonding to him.
Kang-ho didn't mind. Maybe because he was old-school too.
The glass he offered held premium crystal-cut ice for whiskey.
Glug glug glug—
Fifty-year-old scotch poured generously.
Im Cheol-bae filled his own glass, then pushed it forward. Kang-ho chuckled, clinked glasses, and sipped.
"You could've called ahead, rascal. I'd have stocked better booze."
"What for now."
Then, sensing something wriggling in Kang-ho's jacket, Im Cheol-bae asked.
"What's that? Picked up a stray cat on the way?"
"Oh."
Kang-ho set down his glass and unzipped his jacket. Out popped—
Seol-a's head!
"Ung?"
Im Cheol-bae's eyes went wide.
"Fire?"
"Not Fire."
"Then what? Looks like a baby White Fang no matter how I squint."
"Hatched from Fire's egg. Name's Seol-a."
"Seol-a, huh."
Im Cheol-bae smiled wryly at her. Kang-ho lifted Seol-a from his jacket, set her on the table, and stroked her head.
Seol-a looked up at Kang-ho, then turned to Im Cheol-bae.
Kiiing—
She seemed to like him, staring fixedly before hopping onto Kang-ho's shoulder.
"This one's the spitting image of Fire."
"Tell me about it."
"The egg finally hatched, huh."
"Yeah. New Year's Day."
Kang-ho petted Seol-a's head. She burrowed into his jacket, peeking out with sparkling eyes.
"She's a cutie."
"Right?"
"Yeah. Adorable."
"Super adorable."
"The best."
"Best ever."
Im Cheol-bae burst out roaring with laughter at Kang-ho.
"Hahaha!"
Kang-ho chuckled sheepishly too.
Im Cheol-bae knew. How long Kang-ho had carried Seolhwa's egg. How he'd cherished it like family. How heartbroken he'd been losing her.
That made his heart ache more—seeing Kang-ho beam like a proud dad showing off his kid.
"Yeah. Can't just sit idle when my buddy's got a new kid."
Im Cheol-bae boomed, pulling out his smartphone. Someone picked up, and he spoke.
"Yeah, me. What's usable for Kang-ho in our warehouse? Yeah... no, not that. Oh, right! That'll do."
After listening a bit, he bellowed.
"Bring that!"
Kang-ho just smiled at his friend. Im Cheol-bae had always been like that—generous, drawing crowds. Different from Kang-ho.
"Cheol-bae."
Kang-ho spoke slowly.
"Yeah."
"Came to ask something."
"What?"
Kang-ho pulled out his smartphone from his pocket. The one Shim Daeyoung had left behind recently. He played the video.
Southern dispute zones—Daegu, Busan. Im Cheol-bae sighed faintly at the new monsters rampaging there.
"Hit you too, huh."
"Civil servant dropped it off not long ago."
"Big issue lately."
Im Cheol-bae downed his glass, let out a satisfied "Ahh," then spoke.
"Lost one of our rankers there recently."
"What rank?"
Kang-ho crossed his arms.
"Korea 95th. World ranker too—1920th."
Awakener world rankings started at 2000. Still, top 2000 worldwide elites.
"Name?"
"Jo Yong-ho."
"Hitman?"
"Yeah."
Codename Hitman. Kang-ho knew of Jo Yong-ho vaguely.
"Still top secret."
"Of course."
Kang-ho nodded.
"Who got Hitman?"
"No clue. Went missing on dispute zone recon. Three months gone—safe to call him dead."
"Hm."
"Something's up, for sure. New monsters swarming the southern zones. And..."
Im Cheol-bae eyed Kang-ho gravely, then added slowly.
"Some carried demonic energy."
"Ugh."
Kang-ho sighed.
Demonic energy. Even as a Beast Master, it didn't work on everything. Old monsters had it—that dark, sinister aura maxed instincts and savagery beyond imagination.
"Demonic energy means..."
Im Cheol-bae nodded.
"Not confirmed yet, but..."
He added cautiously.
"Yeah, we're speculating it might be. Like... Incheon 30 years ago."
Kang-ho closed his eyes briefly. Incheon 30 years back flashed—monsters blanketing the sea, led by a figure shrouded in pitch-black demonic energy.
Exuding it, driving monsters to peak ferocity and bloodlust. Called "Demon Human".
Overwhelmingly stronger than monsters.
Kang-ho broke the silence.
"What timing—"
"......"
"Fifty years after Daybreak ends, something stirs again... Seolhwa's egg hatches..."
Kang-ho glanced out the wide window at Seoul's night streets.
"And I'm still ageless, in my prime, past or present."
"True."
"Feels like anything could happen."
Kang-ho muttered flatly.
Im Cheol-bae stared. Fifty years ago first meeting him. Thirty years ago, his lonely departure. Now.
Choi Kang-ho was always like that—unreadable expression. Always lonely, solitary.
Knock knock knock—
"Come in."
The door opened at Im Cheol-bae's voice. The team leader entered, carrying something.
"Chairman, I brought the item you mentioned."