"To tell you the truth, I suffer from the same illness as your mother, Hunter-nim."
This answer was entirely unexpected, and Jin-Woo faltered for a moment.
"Does Jin-Ho know about this too?"
Yoo Myung-Han shook his head.
"Other than my attending physician, the only people who know about my illness are myself, my wife, and my secretary — three people in total." "So now that makes four." "Indeed."
Jin-Woo nodded. Only now did he understand why Chairman Yoo had come to find him in secret, bypassing Jin-Ho. The man wanted to keep his illness hidden from even his own family.
'Well, after all, tens of thousands of employees rest their livelihoods on his shoulders…'
A corporation's stock price rises and falls at the mere hint of a cough from its chairman. If rumors spread that Chairman Yoo had only a limited period left to remain active, the future of Yoo-Gin Construction and its subsidiary companies would be as plain as day. The reason he hid his diagnosis from even his family and maintained ironclad security — the weight on Chairman Yoo's shoulders was simply too vast to accept reality as it was. And yet.
'He revealed that fact to me.'
He must have judged that he could afford to shoulder even that level of risk. Yoo Myung-Han was a businessman — and not just any, but an undefeated general who knew no failure. There was no way such a man would throw himself into something that offered no benefit whatsoever while shouldering that kind of danger. Jin-Woo could roughly guess what Chairman Yoo was going to say. And sure enough. Chairman Yoo spoke with a grave expression.
"In my exhaustive search for a cure, I was able to discover one person in the entire world — a patient who has been freed from this illness."
Just as expected. The story was unfolding exactly as Jin-Woo had predicted.
"That the sole person in question happens to be Hunter Sung's mother does not look like a coincidence to me."
Jin-Woo had stunned countless people with an ability never seen before. Perhaps he had used that very ability to cure his mother's illness as well? Having looked into Jin-Woo through various sources, this was a conclusion Chairman Yoo could readily reach.
'…'
Jin-Woo simply gazed at Chairman Yoo without confirming or denying anything. Chairman Yoo swallowed hard.
'I cannot afford to make a mistake.'
If everything up until now had been the warm-up, then from here on it was the real game. The most critical moment. Chairman Yoo exhaled a short, deep breath and spoke with conviction.
"What I wish to obtain from you, Hunter-nim, is the truth."
Chairman Yoo nudged the check a little further forward with his fingertip. A soft slide.
"And this — as part of the compensation I can offer Hunter Sung in return — represents a portion of my sincerity."
Not the entirety — a portion. It meant that if Jin-Woo wished, Chairman Yoo was prepared to offer more than just money.
"If Hunter-nim helps me, I will never forget that kindness."
The tiger of the business world bowed his head and asked for help. Anyone who knew Chairman Yoo would have gasped at the sight. Yet, surprisingly, Jin-Woo himself remained composed as ever. He watched Chairman Yoo with calm, steady eyes.
'It doesn't seem like a lie.'
His elevated heartbeat, quickened breathing, and the desperate expression he tried to mask with composure — they said it all. Chairman Yoo was sincere. But. Just because someone sincerely desired something didn't mean everyone could obtain it. After a brief moment of deliberation, Jin-Woo finally parted his firmly closed lips.
"I'm sorry."
At those words alone, Chairman Yoo Myung-Han's pupils trembled violently.
"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do to help you." "Th… then…"
His expectations had been so high that Chairman Yoo, unlike himself, couldn't simply back down.
"How did your mother, Hunter Sung, make a full recovery?" "Chairman-nim."
Jin-Woo's gaze hardened. As the air around them grew icy cold, Chairman Yoo was reminded once more of the kind of man he was facing. Jin-Woo spoke.
"If I knew the reason and wanted to profit from it, why would I have kept my mouth shut until now?"
Several answers flashed through Chairman Yoo's mind. Was he afraid of becoming a target for the powerful? No. Chairman Yoo shook his head. Jin-Woo was an active S-rank Hunter — an extraordinarily strong one at that. Who could possibly make a target of him? Then did it mean he wanted something other than money? Once again, Chairman Yoo's head moved from side to side without him realizing it. The current Hunter Sung could obtain anything he wanted — fame, popularity, whatever it might be. And yet, Hunter Sung hadn't done so.
'Ah.'
Chairman Yoo belatedly realized his mistake. The foundation of any deal was figuring out what the other party wanted. You bring what the other party desires, and you receive what you want in return. That was the common sense of a deal. But he hadn't the faintest idea what Jin-Woo wanted. The deal's failure was only natural.
'It comes down to one of two things.'
Either Jin-Woo truly didn't know the reason, or he wanted nothing at all. Either way, it was a desperate situation for him.
"…I understand."
Chairman Yoo made no further attempt to hold Jin-Woo back.
"Then I'll be going."
Seeing Jin-Woo rise to his feet, Chairman Yoo awkwardly stood as well and called for Secretary Kim. Secretary Kim, who had been standing guard outside, hurried in.
"Chai—"
The moment he stepped through the door, he read the rigid tension flowing between Jin-Woo and Chairman Yoo. Since this meeting had been their last hope, Secretary Kim's face darkened as well.
"Chairman-nim, you called for me?"
Chairman Yoo Myung-Han nodded weakly.
"Hunter-nim is leaving, so please see him to his residence." "That won't be necessary."
Jin-Woo politely declined, gave a light bow to Chairman Yoo and Secretary Kim, and stepped into the elevator alone. Whirrrr— The high-speed elevator descended from the topmost floor toward the ground. When the two of them had been inside, he hadn't noticed, but now that he was alone, it was unmistakable. The elevator was far too large and spacious for a single person. Jin-Woo let out a sigh.
"Hoo."
Even for the one refusing a request, the heart wasn't at ease. Still — wasn't this the father of someone like a younger brother to him? He could have pretended to be swayed by sentiment and extended a hand. But.
'I don't know him.'
What kind of person Chairman Yoo Myung-Han really was. Whether he truly suffered from an illness or harbored some other scheme. The 'Vigil of Life' item he had used to treat his mother had exceptional performance, but its supply was limited. He had no choice but to exercise greater caution with its use. Chairman Yoo's offer had been extraordinary, but it had failed to move his heart. That was the conclusion. Ting. The elevator, having reached the first floor in no time, opened its doors. Jin-Woo pulled on his hood and stepped out. Unlike when he'd been with Chairman Yoo, no one recognized him. The occasional glances thrown his way carried expressions of 'Who is that, coming out of the executive elevator?' Jin-Woo paid them no mind and walked toward the exit. A waiting attendant spotted Jin-Woo and parted the way for him. As Jin-Woo crossed the lobby, a voice ringing out from somewhere made him stop in his tracks.
[We have just received breaking news from Japan.]
Jin-Woo turned his head. The large lobby TV, which had been off when he rode up, was now broadcasting live news from the scene. It was breaking coverage of a Dungeon Break — a catastrophe spreading out of control. Jin-Woo walked toward the TV. The city, filmed from a news helicopter, was horrifying. Giants were demolishing buildings. Civilians who hadn't managed to evacuate were swallowed into the giants' mouths the moment they were caught. The remaining military forces unleashed everything they had, but it was futile. Without the power of Hunters, there was no way to stop the monsters. An exact count was impossible, but estimates already showed the death toll surpassing the millions. It was nothing short of a catastrophe.
"…"
Jin-Woo's face froze hard. It was his first time witnessing the reality. And that was understandable. After escaping the Double Dungeon, he'd left the aftermath to Department Head Woo Jin-Cheol, returned home, and collapsed into sleep — all just yesterday. He had expected it, but Japan's situation was even worse than he'd imagined. It was reminiscent of the nightmare that had unfolded on Jeju Island four years ago. If there was any silver lining, it was that the Dungeon Break at the time had been somewhat contained thanks to the unique circumstances of an island setting. But. Japan was different. It was far too large to dismiss as a mere island. The country itself faced the risk of being wiped out. Thud, thud, thud. Jin-Woo's heart pounded as he watched the giants. It was revulsion. The thought that creatures like those were trampling human lives sent a deep, rising wave of loathing surging up from within him. But then.
'Wait…'
Jin-Woo snapped out of his thoughts. Creatures like those? He had never faced a giant-type monster before. Naturally, he couldn't detect mana through a television screen. Then why had the word 'just' — as in 'merely these' — unconsciously popped into his mind the moment he saw the giants? Was it confidence? Jin-Woo tilted his head, then soon shook it.
'My mind's so cluttered, I'm having all kinds of thoughts.'
Jin-Woo turned away. Pushing through the crowd of people who had gathered around the TV watching the breaking news with worried faces, Jin-Woo quietly slipped out of the building.
* * *
The second day of the Dungeon Break. The world's attention immediately zeroed in on Japan. What was the countermeasure for the Dungeon Break? Did Japan still have any options left? If not, would the United States step in? And — was there any chance that the giants, having destroyed all of Japan, would cross the ocean and inflict damage on other nations as well? Concerned and anxious gazes poured in upon the crumbling Japan. Of course, some countries that had hostile relations with Japan harbored different thoughts, but at least outwardly, all expressed their sympathies. Yet what Japan needed was not empty words of comfort. Practical help. Concrete power that could save Japan from the monsters — 'salvation' — was what was required. While the United States was slow to issue a statement, reports had already surfaced that one-tenth of Japan's land had been destroyed. Television broadcasts showed columns of Japanese refugees filling the highways. To survive, they had abandoned their homes and moved east and west. But like any nation, Japan's land was not infinite. Inevitably, they would reach a dead end. An announced end was drawing near. Watching their pitiable plight, the world began to ask:
— What is Korea doing? — Why isn't Korea helping Japan? — Do they not remember the debt they owe?
The world had witnessed the Jeju Island raid just weeks ago. Japan had lost half of the S-rank Hunters it had sent for Korea's sake — so why was Korea simply standing by and watching Japan's crisis unfold? Japan's scale of destruction and death toll were being updated hourly. People were outraged and grieving. As sympathy for Japan swelled, criticism against Korea intensified.
— Move, Korea! — Don't they have any sense of loyalty? — Has Korea forgotten Jeju Island!
The world's public opinion was ablaze. And the question grew louder as to why Japan, of all nations, had not specifically requested Korea to help exterminate the monsters. On the third day, when the time was deemed right, Association Chairman Go Geon-Hui finally stepped before the reporters. Murmur, murmur. Surrounded shoulder-to-shoulder by reporters and cameras, Chairman Go Geon-Hui opened his mouth quietly.
"We express our deepest regret over the catastrophe that has befallen Japan, and I will now state the position of our Hunter's Association regarding this matter."
And. Just a short time before that, a statement from the U.S. Bureau of Hunter Management had been released.