This Is My Master!

In the World of Dream Souls, in a certain valley.

I gripped the Nebula Sword and unfolded my forms.

Wild enough to shatter the heavens.

Fluid as a dancer mid-performance.

When I first learned the Heaven-Destroying Demonic Art, I had done only as my master commanded. Originality was sometimes a trap that hindered understanding, so I had devoted myself faithfully to his teachings.

But once the art was complete, the story changed.

Master told me to surpass him on my own.

I reinterpreted the technique, and reinterpreted it again.

I swung the Nebula Sword, and swung it again.

"Demonic Flame Sharing the Clouds, Black Heaven Thunderstorm, Black Fang."

Menacing purple demonic energy unfurled, soaring like a dragon weaving through the sky above—

—then crashing down like thunder splitting the heavens.

————KRAKOOM!

What followed flowed like water, supple and seamless, yet strength lay hidden within ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠its softness. It was a breeze rustling the reeds, then a gale battering the gorge, and at last it finished as a typhoon sweeping across the land.

Thus I plumbed the depths of the art, never halting my training. At times I even birthed techniques of my own.

Mountain-Severing Stance.

I swept the sword through the air, carving a great arc. Neither drifting left nor right, it would cut through whatever stood before it—mountain or river alike.

"Mountain Severing."

SCREEE—BOOM!

The mountain dead ahead split in two.

My understanding of the art had deepened, and I could feel my power climbing with it.

"Heaven-Destroying Demonic Art, Stage 11."

The enlightenment for Stage 12 seemed to be drawing near… something was churning in my mind, but it had yet to take shape I could grasp.

Still, I allowed myself ease of heart.

If rushing after enlightenment could ever summon it, then the most impatient fool alive would already be the strongest among us.

Slowly, I steadied my breathing—

—and suddenly found myself curious about Jeokmyo and Chilmyo. A quick flick of my body through the air, and I found my master teaching the two of them.

Though "teaching" was, perhaps, a generous word for it.

He's working them like dogs.

I'd spent two years under that regimen myself, so I knew. That phase was genuinely brutal.

Then again, the master must have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠taken a liking to those two.

Come to think of it, the rabbits were diligent sorts. Jeokmyo had thrown herself into cooking—binge-watching cooking competition shows, studying hard, and somewhere along the way her skills had leapt forward by leaps and bounds.

Impressive. Truly impressive.

Chilmyo, for his part, had devoted himself to the electrical systems. Thanks to him, the World of Dream Souls had transformed at a startling pace—every room now boasted air conditioning, refrigerators, televisions, and recliners.

"I don't know what stories those two carry, but… I ought to ask them someday."

Maybe it was time to pay China a visit.

After a quick wash-up, I crossed over home and called Yuri, who was huddled in the corner of the room.

"Yuri."

"Yes, my lord."

First my liege, now my lord, hm?

"From this moment, you're going to build me an information network."

"Yes. Understood."

Yuri Orlov. The reason I didn't kill this man was simple enough—his abilities had their uses.

"Don't go snatching up innocent people for it. Just move around, keep your ears open, and be ready in case some kind of propaganda war breaks out. Got it? Report to me regularly."

"Yes, my lord."

"…Uh, right."

Just then—ziiiing—a call came in.

It was Daniel. Well, this was unexpected.

"Yes, Daniel."

-Brother, did you hear? You and Mr. Jo are taking on the 48th floor, yeah?

"Ah, yes. Well, something like that."

-Be careful. Mr. Jo, who knows—but among the Mega Sea Serpents on that floor, there's one with genuine intelligence.

"Pardon? A Tower monster with intelligence?"

Tower monsters had no intelligence. Humanity had judged as much after thousands of attempted conversations, every single one ending in failure.

But—

-The 48th floor definitely has one. I don't know how many, but at least one for certain.

"Ah… thank you for telling me."

-It's nothing, really. Anyway, I should've come talk to you in person first. Such a shame.

"I'm working hard for world peace, as you can see. I completely understand."

In truth, I wasn't the least bit disappointed. If Daniel didn't work, who would?

So the man deserved nothing but kind words.

-Anyway, brother, the villa for Brother Jaewoo is finished. I've got the warp item too, so I'll be heading to Korea soon.

"…Already?"

-Of course! America needs its tower pre-opening fast too, no? Just you wait—I'll be there before December's out!

Wow. So he'd be in America before long.

"Yes, well… I'll be looking forward to it."

December 23rd. The day before the 48th floor assault.

I was agonizing over my master's outfit.

His current attire was a purple dragon robe. It radiated the dignity of an absolute sovereign, no question—but in the middle of Gangnam, South Korea, in the year 2027, it was a touch conspicuous.

No matter how grand my master may be, I doubt he'd enjoy being mistaken for a cosplayer.

I whipped out my smartphone and opened the [VIP Auction] app.

I bought five suits. Twenty billion won, gone.

Account balance: ten million.

"Ooof."

Spending money like water. What a rush.

I'd sold off everything I'd squeezed out of the rabbits and Yuri, and still there was barely anything left. Of course, I'd be smashing a Tower open soon enough, so it would come flooding back.

I went straight to my master.

"Master. Please wear this when we go out today."

"…This is a garment?"

I made a point of telling him about the outside world whenever the chance arose, so by now my master had a fair grasp of the modern era.

But apparently he wasn't sold on this.

Well, fair enough—if someone told me to wear that thing, I'd be too embarrassed to set foot outside.

"Don't worry, Master. Put it on, think of whatever outfit you desire, and it will change accordingly. Better still, you can wear other clothes right over this suit, and it will maintain whatever style you wish."

"Ah. A thing of greater substance than its appearance."

"Exactly. I'm no fan of long underwear myself."

My master's face remained expressionless as ever, but I could read him now.

I could tell he was quietly relieved.

"Very well. Return to your training."

"Yes, Master!"

What manner of fashion would my master emerge in, I wondered? Honestly, I was a little curious.

December 24th. Christmas Eve.

Clad in the four-billion-won suit, I shifted it into a black suit and long coat.

"Whew…"

I was a little nervous. The 48th floor assault?

That wasn't even on my radar.

I had exactly one worry.

What if my master flips all of Seoul upside down?

What if somebody honks at him in gridlocked traffic on Olympic Boulevard? Surely he wouldn't blast their car into oblivion. What if he demolished a high-rise for disrupting the feng shui? That would be the day we made CNN—headline: The Day Seoul Fell.

No. That's not going to happen.

I shook my head hard and hyped myself up.

My master is an intellectual who loves hanwoo beef and salmon, who savors tea, coffee, and steak. He is no barbarian.

Steadying my trembling heart, I reached out into empty air.

"[Contractor Descent]."

VMMMM—!

In that instant, space itself shuddered as if being torn apart. This was no mere surge of mana. It was an overwhelming presence that transcended dimensions. As a menacing yet august black demonic energy devoured the atmosphere, the air grew crushingly heavy and the windows rattled in their frames.

Fsshhh—

A crimson fissure split the air, and a jagged seam tore itself open. And from within it—

Thud.

A demon whose reach touched the heavens revealed his majesty.

"These clothes are unfamiliar."

My jaw dropped at the sight of him adjusting his tie as he stepped through.

"No way. What in the—"

So it was true that Jeokmyo and Chilmyo had taught him twenty-first-century style. I'd have to reward those two.

Not the Cult Master of the Heavenly Demon Cult, but the head of a European noble house—or the boss in a Hollywood film.

No—a visage that surpassed all of them put together. And that flawless physique, forged anew by his total transformation!

I gave him a thumbs-up.

"Master, you could give movie stars a run for their money. No, as of today, Gangnam fashion belongs to you. You've conquered it."

"You lay the flattery on thick."

My master waved a hand dismissively. His actions and expression hadn't changed in the slightest—but what I felt was something else entirely.

This is different from seeing him in the World of Dream Souls.

Otherworldly dominance pressed against me. The moment he stepped into reality, my master had gathered in his power with utter perfection. The phrase hiding one's light within the ordinary hardly did it justice.

I can't sense even a truckload of energy from him.

And yet, somehow, that was exactly what made him so damn cool.

My master asked:

"So this is thy world."

Don't you mean 'the world you live in,' Master? Not 'thy world, which is thine'? I almost shot back—but thought better of it. Hearing the answer seemed likely to do me no good.

"Yes. This is the place."

My master walked slowly to the window and gazed down. The gray forest of buildings beyond Seoul Forest, the endless queue of cars choking the roads, the people scurrying about their day.

The vista of Seoul settled into his deep, dark eyes.

I hovered on pins and needles, terrified he might snap his fingers and mutter, "How displeasing."

"A prosperous world, this."

That was all my master offered—a brief remark.

What an enormous relief.

Seoul would not be destroyed.

Only then did I release the breath I'd been holding.

"Whew. Welcome, Master."

"Indeed. Let us be off."

"Yes, sir!"

A luxury limousine, arranged in advance by the Association, waited in the underground parking garage—with Section Chief Jeon Sua at the wheel. The rear door of the black limousine swung open, and my master settled into the seat with natural grace.

"Get in."

"Yes, sir!"

Jeon Sua looked mildly startled, but she had the sense to say nothing, and the car pulled away like something gliding on ice.

Vroooom—

At that same moment, the first-floor lobby of the Association's Strategic Headquarters.

The Strategic Headquarters staff had lined up in perfect formation, bracing themselves as if to fight tomorrow's war today. What kind of place was the Strategic Headquarters? The department that put tower assaults above all else—the one that wound itself taut without fail as December drew to a close and prayed January would never arrive. For these people, the year's end was a crushing burden.

And precisely because of that, today was a day of singular importance.

Of course—

the staff weren't the only ones on edge.

"Everyone, remember this."

Cho Sang-hyuk spoke in a grave voice.

"Under no circumstances are you to act rashly."

"Yes, sir! Understood!"

South Korea's hero, Cho Sang-hyuk, swallowed dryly at the tension in the air.

It's hard to believe, but the being arriving today is someone Jaewoo-nim himself declared stronger than him. Not a single misstep is allowed.

The "master" Yu Jaewoo had spoken of was an unknown quantity—and that made him all the more unnerving.

The staff let their imaginations run wild. Seeing a legendary-rank Awakener in person would be marvel enough—but his master? What kind of person could that possibly be? Burden, fear, curiosity—a tangle of emotions settled over the lobby like a held breath.

And then—

Screech—

A black limousine glided to a stop before the lobby. Every gaze in the room snapped to the door.

Click— ziiing—

The automatic door opened, and Yu Jaewoo stepped out. A face carved like a statue, body sculpted through complete transformation. An idol-tier outfit. The staff's eyes went round as saucers.

That's the legendary-rank Awakener?

Holy crap, he's way too handsome.

Wow. He's unreal in person. That's not fair.

But the shock was only beginning.

Thud.

The sound of a shoe hitting the ground as the very air settled, calm and deep.

Thud.

An elderly gentleman stepped out of the car.

"…!"

A collective gasp escaped the room—not born of fear.

A dark navy suit tailored to perfection. A dignified face etched with the depth of long years, a razor-sharp jawline, hair swept back without a thought. With every step he took, the air of the lobby itself trembled.

Like an emperor walking a red carpet. Or a mafia don with a gun in his coat.

Under that overwhelming aura, staff high and low alike stood gaping, and the office group chat was erupting.

Even Cho Sang-hyuk couldn't close his mouth.

Impossible.

The razor-honed instincts of an S-Class Awakener whispered to him: this was a being he must never, ever treat carelessly.

I heard he was Jaewoo-nim's master, but what in the world IS he? This sense of dominance.

In the span of a heartbeat, the Strategic Headquarters lobby had become a runway.

And then—

Yu Jaewoo approached Cho Sang-hyuk, grinning ear to ear in obvious high spirits.

"Hello, Team Leader."

"Good day, Jaewoo-nim. Although—that gentleman over there, who exactly…?"

"Ah, forgive me for the late introduction."

Yu Jaewoo took his place beside the Heavenly Demon and declared:

"This is my master!"

In that moment, it was Yu Jaewoo—not the Heavenly Demon—who looked the most excited of all.