208. No Regrets.
After Kang Moo-hyuk left, Son Jung-beom initiated the guild headquarters evacuation sequence.
Evacuations were typically carried out when a guild failed to protect itself from monsters, but for guilds in the capital region—especially those in Seoul—abandoning headquarters was virtually unheard of.
It was a sign of just how ironclad the capital's monster defenses were. As such, evacuation protocols mostly existed only in manuals.
Kang Moo-hyuk had experienced his first guild evacuation during the war against the orc tribes. Excluding him, only a handful of active hunters had lived through it—mostly from the Great War era when total guild wipes were routine, or from some minor conflicts.
Most of those veterans had since retired, leaving few still in the field.
Son Jung-beom was one of them. This was his second time.
'Back when I first joined up. Hard to believe it's been nearly twenty years.'
If you named the Korean guild with the most evacuation experience, Baekho Guild took the top spot by a landslide.
What made it peculiar was that monsters weren't the cause.
'Retreating from enemy pressure wasn't a one-off. We always lost, but we came back as victors. This time won't be any different. Just gotta ride out the storm.'
Son Jung-beom had accepted Kang Moo-hyuk's proposal so readily because Baekho Guild's history was one of repeated humiliation and resurrection.
Survival trumped pride.
'Seventy percent of our assets are stashed overseas anyway. Rebuilding won't be hard.'
That didn't mean handing over the remaining thirty percent didn't sting, but if a few chunks of meat could shake off the hyenas, it wasn't a bad deal in his book.
The sudden guild dissolution news had the headquarters staff and mid-to-low-tier hunters buzzing.
Upper floors housing executives and expedition elites were sealed off, and evacuation recommendation emails had gone out.
As the guild stirred in chaos, Eum Yeong-jin entered the guild master's office to hand off approvals.
"Guild Master, pulling domestic deposits won't be easy. How should we handle them?"
"Grab the laundered cash, pay out the rest as severance for the staff. Whatever's left, donate it to an orphanage or something. Wait—no. Dump it on the Guild Cooperation Office. Tell 'em to use it for Northeast reconstruction. If any word leaks from Kang Moo-hyuk later, at least it'll cover our asses."
"D-Donate? That's no small sum..."
"Gotta leave clean. We're coming back someday. Might as well use money we can't touch to buy some goodwill. I don't wanna watch it line someone else's pockets—especially not Slayer or Kang Moo-hyuk. Seeing those bastards gorge themselves turns my stomach."
With that, Baekho Guild's accounts—holding tens of trillions in cash—were half-forced into social contribution. It was an unexpected positive from the guild that Kang Moo-hyuk never saw coming.
"What about the guild vault?"
"Leave it. If there's no food, they'll turn on us. Gotta keep 'em fat and lazy so they don't bite. Right now, our priority is getting the main force out of Korea safely. Secure flights. Book every ticket leaving today and tell the crew to go. If none available, strong-arm the airlines into chartering special flights. Money's no object. Oh, and ship the main gear as cargo. Disguise it well."
"Guild data too?"
"I'll carry that myself. Can't replace years of files with cash—refilling it later would take ages. Back it up and wipe the servers here."
"Understood. On it right away."
No point dragging feet once dissolution was decided.
Son Jung-beom planned to scatter his core hunters—those tied to Baekho's key operations—across various countries, then regroup at safe houses abroad.
But things didn't go as planned. By evening, Eum Yeong-jin brought bad news.
"What? Travel ban?"
"Yes. Every Baekho Guild hunter is grounded."
"Kang Moo-hyuk... pulling a petty stunt. Said he'd let us go nicely, but can't even give us a clean exit, huh? Tch! Forged passports?"
"Facial recognition system's been in place for a while. Won't work."
"Damn it, already? This country's always rushing—can't stand anything slow. Alternatives?"
"You didn't just come with bad news, right?"
"Smuggling's an option."
"Smuggling? Feels like twenty years ago. That was hell too. Reliable?"
"This one's different. VIP service—speed and comfort guaranteed. Marketing to rich folks spooked by the Zmei Gorinich mess as an emergency escape plan. Pretty popular; lots of deposits already."
"Heh, world's changed. Smuggling's big business now."
Son Jung-beom chuckled incredulously, then raised a concern.
"But it'll dump us in China or Russia. Char Guild in Russia, Imperial Dragon in China—both under Kang Moo-hyuk's thumb. Port entry means instant bust. Needs tight security. Mouths that stay shut."
"No worries there. Transfer to a luxury cruise in international waters. Wig ship to the meetup—fast delivery. Cruise skips ports, goes straight to your destination."
"Huh. Now that's a service I like. Might as well treat it like vacation. Check it out. Get us out today."
"Yes, sir. Contacting them now."
* * *
"Welcome to JKJ Travel Agency."
For a covert smuggling op, the reception was ridiculously lavish.
In a dim harbor corner, the hunters found a building decked out like a luxury restaurant, JKJ Travel Agency sign gleaming.
Having bid farewell to their beloved rides, the hunters parked haphazardly out front. Agency staff emerged, taking keys like hotel valets and whisking cars away.
As the hunters eyed their supercars wistfully, a man who seemed to be the manager approached to reassure them.
"Greetings. Man Bu-jang, head of operations. We'll store your prized vehicles securely. Need them later? Pay a fee, and we'll sea-freight them to whatever country you want."
The hunters' eyes widened in surprise. Abandoning their babies had been gut-wrenching, but now there was hope of reunion.
Some regretted selling cheap; most grinned in satisfaction.
"Oh, they handle that too?"
"Smuggling joint, my ass. Looks like premium emigration service."
As more hunters arrived, the harbor grew lively.
Man Bu-jang ushered them inside.
"Come in. Once everyone's here, we'll start the smuggling package. Short wait."
The interior matched the facade—plush furniture where a single sofa or chair cost millions. Snacks and drinks were top-shelf. To an outsider, it screamed party venue, not smuggling hub.
"All here?"
Son Jung-beom's entrance drew bows from the hundred-strong group.
"Guild Master!"
Eum Yeong-jin, following, confirmed briefly.
"Yes. All present."
Son Jung-beom nodded, scanning them.
"Guild's hit a snag, so we're pulling back temporarily. But we'll return. Baekho's history has dissolutions, never deaths. We've always risen again—this time too. Treat it like a long vacation. When we come back, it'll be non-stop."
Nothing fancy in the speech, but his charisma held Baekho ironclad.
Elite skills aside, his generous rewards built unshakeable trust. No one questioned him, even without full details.
As he finished, waiting Man Bu-jang stepped up.
"All set, Guild Master Son Jung-beom."
"Already?"
"Yes. Wig ships: one pilot plus five per craft. Yours solo—twenty total ready. Rendezvous with the cruise in international waters. Pick your destination onboard. Gear's pre-loaded for pickup."
Straightforward process.
Son Jung-beom smiled, pleased.
"Worth every penny."
"You'll see on the cruise—top condition. Chefs from five-stars, trained crew. We'll pamper you the whole way. Safe travels."
"Good. I like it. We'll be in touch—more coming later. Take care of them."
"Of course. Pay up, get served—no matter who you are. That's our motto."
* * *
Kang Moo-hyuk and Joo Se-ah stood atop stacked containers, overlooking the harbor.
In the darkness, dozens of wig ships slipped out stealthily into view.
Joo Se-ah grimaced bitterly.
"They're gone."
"Yes. Gone."
"Feels off letting them slip away like this. Sure we should?"
"As I said, fighting here wounds the nation and society fatally—win or lose. South America and Africa's anarchy stemmed from hunter greed, sure, but more from lost public trust in state protection. When people ditch duties, it crumbles fast. Africa's cases especially..."
"Yeah, yeah. Heard it a dozen times. Just venting 'cause it sucks. Spare the lecture."
"Vent? Hmm. Not much to regret, if you ask me."
"Not regret it? Those bastards'll meddle in Korea again at the first chance. Might've been better to wipe 'em out risks and all."
Joo Se-ah sighed; Kang Moo-hyuk smirked oddly. She probed.
"Genuinely curious—what's the angle?"
"Angle?"
"Banned 'em from flying out, but set up VIP smuggling via Mr. Jo. Word spreads in hunter circles—Baekho bites. Feels deliberate. But why? Complicated for no payoff."
"Complicated, yes. Payoff? Plenty."
"See?! Knew it!"
"Mr. Jo's aboard the cruise. Sticking with Baekho to destination."
"Assassinate the Baekho crew?!"
"Even Mr. Jo can't take near a hundred tier guild hunters in a confined cruise."
"Then why?"
"No one extracts necessities like her."
"Necessities? Items are bulky; valuables get noticed quick. Intel? Fits her spy specialty."
"Intel, yes. Specific intel—not earth-shattering."
Joo Se-ah tilted her head.
Objectively, Mr. Jo was premium talent. Costly hire, massive returns—but not for casual gigs.
Especially long-term deployment on an indefinite cruise.
Joo Se-ah suddenly fretted over the bill.
"Quit the riddles. Spill. Wouldn't waste her on trivia."
Prodded, Kang Moo-hyuk answered.
"An address."
"Address?"
"Baekho's overseas safe houses. Mr. Jo tails them to get it."
"The address—wait?!"
"Told you. Letting Baekho go? No regrets on my end."