While a new king was being crowned in Sejong, Seoul too was preparing for its own coronation.
Jeon Si-hoon had once again blocked a monster with his team.
You might think, what’s the big deal about stopping one monster?—but this ti, the one Jeon Si-hoon intercepted was a Giant-type, a supermassive class.
Unlike Kraken-types, Giant-types don’t have inherent offensive capabilities, but the area where they collapse and vanish becos a powerful erosion zone. For reasons we still don’t fully understand, this zone has the effect of luring in every monster in the vicinity.
A prelude to an assault, in every sense of the word.
Broadcast through television and radio, Jeon Si-hoon and his Hunter team’s actions offered Seoul citizens not just sothing to watch—but reassurance that their city was being protected.
Still, so were suspicious—suggesting it was Jeon Si-hoon himself who might be drawing the monsters in.
And it’s true: ever since Jeon Si-hoon ca to the forefront, the frequency of monster incursions has noticeably increased.
But whatever. That’s not my problem.
I’ve got my own preparations to focus on.
I’m about to put a long-considered plan into action.
eting Kang Han-min in person.
Not an easy task.
He’s located deep inside the Rift. One of the deepest areas.
The inside of a Rift is a place full of unknowns.
I’ve been inside one a few tis myself. But the only things I found there were absolute silence—and the fear of infinity.
To get better insight, I asked a few friends who’ve been inside more recently.
“Think of it like a subway map. Each area has an outpost, kind of like a station, and the routes connecting them are like rails. Most operations follow that kind of line.”
That was from Kim Han-na, the person I know who’s been most active inside the Rift.
She’s semi-retired now, taking on just enough missions to stay afloat while making friends and enjoying life.
I’d say that’s one valid way to survive in this world.
Anyway, Kim Han-na guessed that even inside the Paju Rift, there must be sothing like a subway route, with outposts similar to those in Jeju.
Still, even with her experience, she said she’d never heard the term “nerve of the Rift” before.
“Well... if I had to guess, it’s probably the farthest, deepest place. I’ve never been, but I’ve heard there’s sothing like an endless crevasse deep inside, far from the Rift’s entrance. If that’s where Savior Kang Han-min is, maybe he’s at the very end of that line.”
It was all speculation, but for soone like who knows nothing—it was precious intel.
And I’d made good use of my ti online.
“Oh, right. I know an Awakened guy who used to work in Paju. They say he’s been in and out of the Rift. Pretty well-known among the reps.”
That ca from Defender, a friend from the forums, who gave a lead on soone who might help.
I found the guy that evening, in a corner of a night market that had just started up to beat the midsumr heat.
That must be him.
Even from a distance, his sharp features and distinctive outfit matched Defender’s description exactly.
“You’re Zero, right? I saw you online and ca to find you.”
In the shadows of the alley, he looked up at from beneath the brim of a worn-out baseball cap.
The cap said “ZERO” in all caps. Made it easy to tell it was him, even though we’d never t.
He raised his head.
Under the cap, his eyes glead faintly.
“Ah... yeah.”
We found a spot at a little drink stall overlooking the riverside.
The fan in the shop was whirring, and the staff brought over a drink filled with crushed ice.
It was a cheap, synthetic orange-flavored soda—but in Seoul, that made it practically a luxury item.
Not that it mattered. It was zero-calorie.
“Drink up.”
So I was offering Zero zero-calories. Fitting.
“......”
Looking into his eyes, it was clear—he was Awakened.
But not affiliated with any official group.
More like a freelance rcenary.
He’d actually been formally discharged from governnt service, and was now operating as a licensed rcenary Awakened.
Unthinkable in the past—but while ordinary people were being wiped out, Awakened had largely survived and retained their numbers. And now, most of the survivors had converged in Seoul.
That ant Awakened weren’t as rare as they used to be.
Unlike the Jeju era, the treatnt of Awakened had changed, and the organization itself was now split between the Seoul governnt and Kang Han-min’s private faction. Naturally, this created administrative loopholes.
Two opposing systems under one roof—resentnt was inevitable.
Especially since Kang Han-min carried overwhelming symbolic weight among the Awakened—even outside his personal guard.
So of the Awakened affiliated with the governnt began openly expressing distrust in the current state of affairs.
So the governnt ca up with a strategy: discharge the older Awakened with enough skill but little ambition or loyalty, and convert them into rcenaries.
Zero, this guy, was in his late twenties.
That’s still young by social standards—but in a field dominated by twenty-sothing Awakened, he was basically the elder statesman.
He must have complained about the higher-ups more than a few tis when he was still with the governnt.
So they gave him an “honorable discharge” and handed him a lucrative rcenary license.
And rcenary Awakened are in high demand.
They can handle monsters that even veteran teams struggle with. With just a few support fighters, they can even take on mid-sized types that regular Hunters wouldn’t dream of.
Pre-war, you'd call this a “specialist” job.
“You. You’re Professor, right?”
Zero stared straight at .
I didn’t recognize him.
It was the first ti I’d ever seen him.
But I had spent quite a bit of ti in the Hunter Division. Maybe he’d seen when I wasn’t aware.
No need to lie, so I nodded.
“I used that call sign.”
Instead of surprise, suspicion spread across his seasoned face.
“Soone like you—why’d you co looking for ?”
“I want to go inside the Rift.”
I cut straight to the point.
“The Rift?”
I told him what I was interested in—except for the part about eting Kang Han-min.
“...The nerve of the Rift, huh. I’ve only heard the na. And you, a regular person, not even an Awakened, want to go there alone?”
“If I’m gonna die anyway, I’d rather die seeing what lies in the deepest part of the Rift than not know at all.”
Zero scoffed.
He wasn’t shaken by my answer—nor did he sympathize with it.
He had the immovable perspective that only experience can bring.
There’s a reason older guys are the first to get cut from the system.
Still, we could talk.
“...So you want intel. It’s not my main gig, but if it’s tax-free, I can make it work. But I’d rather be paid in goods than credits.”
“How much do you want?”
“One kilo of gold bars.”
“Isn’t that a bit much?”
“If you don’t like it, suggest sothing else.”
“How about bullets?”
“Too heavy.”
“Cigarettes?”
“Cigarettes?”
“I can get you five cartons—with the governnt seal.”
“Hm.”
Zero nodded.
“Alright. But I want the goods up front.”
I had a way to get them.
Kim So-uk.
That sly bastard who always acted like he was about to flee the city was now parading around Seoul like a patriot, singing Jeon Si-hoon’s praises.
He’d swallowed up every profitable business imaginable—including the cigarette trade.
Rumor was, he was illegally employing North Korean refugees that Seoul refused to register, just to skim margins.
Old man Kim once told back when we were building the bunker that tobacco farming was profitable—but that it ruined your body after just a year.
Not really my business, though.
After I handed over the promised cigarettes, Zero asked to pick a location.
My office wasn’t suited for a private talk.
“What? You want to et at my house?”
“If you don’t like it, we can go elsewhere. But it’ll take ti. I have a lot of questions. Wouldn’t it be better to do it sowhere convenient for you? I won’t cause any trouble.”
“...I feel like I just got baited.”
I did get baited.
Online, Skelton might co off like a laid-back guy—but Professor? He’s a pain in the ass.
Even the slow-talking Chinese guy tried to wrap up anything involving as fast as possible.
But hey, I already paid the deposit, so he should at least do the job.
Zero’s ho was in what they called “Hillside,” a wealthy area in New Seoul.
Despite the na, it wasn’t so much a hill as a slightly raised plateau—but only people with real money or influence could live there.
The hos there were 84 square ters—a size Koreans think of as “standard.”
Three rooms, two bathrooms, a small living room and kitchen. A functional setup.
It was a two-story prefab steel-fra house, but still had enough charm to feel nostalgic for the pre-war days.
There were three pairs of shoes at the entrance.
One pair was unusually small—probably a woman’s. The other two were n’s, but one was about 5cm larger.
Inside, I heard the sound of a radio or maybe a TV.
“Eungie?”
An older woman’s voice.
“Yeah. Soone stopped by for a bit. Just chatting.”
“Okay. I made so crab stew—have so if you’re hungry.”
“Got it, got it.”
She was probably his mother.
I passed through a poorly decorated living room filled with random trophies, heading toward Zero’s room.
He used the master bedroom. Across from it was another door—firmly shut.
As we neared, I heard the soft sound of male laughter from the other side.
A bit crude.
Zero’s gaze turned cold.
“...Tch. Fucking bastard.”
BANG!
Zero kicked the door hard.
I stood silently and watched him return with a face still twisted in anger.
“There’s a piece of shit living here. Just saying.”
He said it loud, clearly for soone inside to hear.
No response.
I didn’t say anything either.
Once the door was shut, we began our conversation.
There wasn’t a desk, but there was a low table. I put my tablet down and we got started.
What I wanted from Zero was everything—from A to Z.
From the entrance of the Rift to the last outpost he knew. Every detail.
Including the monsters that appear, foreign entities, possible phenona, the traits and orientation of each outpost, terrain features, and any conceivable dangers.
“...That’s everything I know. Shit, if I knew it’d be this much, I’d have charged ten cartons.”
Even as Skelton, not Professor, my obsession with information hadn’t changed.
They say a drop of sweat in training can replace a drop of blood in battle—but intel is worth even more.
I’ve said it countless tis: it’s better to get hit knowing what’s coming than to get hit blindly.
“We call the outposts ‘Apo.’ Short for ‘outpost.’ Every region has a different term. In Jeju it’s ‘O.P.’ In Yangsan, it’s just ‘Forward.’ In Boseong, it’s ‘Prison.’”
“One outpost usually has five regular Awakened. About twenty support fighters—includes junk Awakened. Lots of sensory abilities, a few empathic ones too. They say empathy types are more important, but I can’t tell the difference. There’s maybe seven junk Awakened, and the rest are fighters. Laborers vary, but I think we had around ten.”
“Each outpost is roughly 30km apart. Depends on terrain. There are no roads, but they set up markers here and there. Electronics often break inside the Rift, so they just stick big poles with shield-shaped flags. Veterans can find them easy, but newbies get lost.”
“Laborers aren’t given firearms. After a past incident with a shooting spree. Oh—we survived. Just a combat support guy died.”
“There are three monster types you’ll run into. Combat packs, raiders, and roars. Logically, raiders seem the scariest, but in reality, roars are the worst. They’re often brand-new types no one’s ever seen.”
It was all quality intel.
I threw in so test questions to confirm if he really had Paju experience—but his answers described everything that happened after I left better than I expected.
Honestly, it felt a bit bitter—realizing soone like this had left the field. A sign of how ssed up things are for Awakened these days.
He doesn’t say it outright, but Zero clearly resents the current treatnt of Awakened.
You can tell from the way he talks—he’s got classic Awakened elitism.
If he ever found out Jeon Si-hoon’s real motives, he might end up joining his faction too.
But that’s not my concern.
All I want is one thing.
Information on Kang Han-min.
“Crevasse, huh. Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”
For a brief mont, sothing flickered in Zero’s eyes.
He knew sothing.
But he’s a smart one.
“But I can’t tell you for free. Maybe soone’s gone there ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) after , but as far as I know, only a handful have ever made it. Jeju had more, but they all died, didn’t they?”
He knows exactly how valuable his intel is.
“You could get it from soone else. But five cartons won’t cut it.”
“If I add five more?”
Zero scoffed.
“No. I want gold. No matter what.”
“Will one kilo do?”
“Make it ten. Fine—five kilos.”
“...You realize how unreasonable that is, right?”
“That’s why I’m asking.”
Zero stood up.
He looked at the door.
That ant: we’re done here.
I’d already gotten more than I expected.
Honestly, I didn’t think five cartons would get this much high-quality intel.
It was more than I’d hoped for.
But human greed knows no end.
“...Is there really no way?”
“....”
“I’m not bragging, but I’ve got a few governnt comndations. I could put in a word, maybe get you a decent post—if you want.”
“I like how things are.”
Zero smiled coldly.
Then, I heard a door creak open.
His face twisted with disgust.
He glared at the now-closed door for a long mont—clearly pissed.
Only after the door shut again did he finally relax.
Then his eyes slid sideways toward .
“If gold’s too much, can you do a favor?”
“What kind of favor?”
I asked, a bit uneasy.
With a hardened face—and eyes swirling with fury—Zero growled:
“The guy in that room. My brother. Can you kill him for ?”
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