The phones at the Japanese Hunter's Association were ringing off the hook with broadcast stations and newspapers all wanting to interview Sung Jin-Woo, to the point where operations had nearly ground to a halt. Ring-ring— Ring-ring— "Yes. Japanese Hunter's Association..." —I'm the person who called a little while ago. How about a brief Q&A instead of a full interview? "That *is* an interview, sir." —No, no. Then how about my face doesn't appear and only subtitles are shown? "Hunter has declined all filming and interviews. I'm sorry." Click. Ring-ring— Ring-ring— "Yes. Japanese Hunter's Association." —This is the head news producer at XX TV. The reason I'm calling is... "That won't be possible." Click. Hundreds of calls like this poured in every single day, making normal work impossible. The department head had reached the point where just the sound of the phone ringing gave him a headache. However. 'That just means public interest in Sung Jin-Woo Hunter is that intense.' He couldn't say he didn't understand their curiosity. A crisis in which nearly forty percent of Japan's territory had been lost had been resolved by the hand of a single person—who wouldn't show interest? Even he himself was curious about what kind of person Sung Jin-Woo Hunter was and what words might come out of his mouth. But that was one thing, and this was another. He held the title of employee at the 'Japanese Hunter's Association.' Since Sung Jin-Woo Hunter had made it clear he would not do interviews, his job was to respect that wish and block the flood of media requests at the Association level. 'I can't afford to cause discomfort to the benefactor who saved our country.' As the department head nodded with a solemn expression, a new employee approached him hesitantly. "Um... sir." Before the new employee could even finish speaking, the department head cut him off. "Tell them no." He didn't even need to hear—it was obvious. Some executive from a TV station or newspaper had strong-armed the new employee into coming to get his confirmation again. But this time was different. "No, it's not that. I think there's a call from Korea." "From Korea?" "Yes. A Mr. Geum Geon-Hee from the Korean Hunter's Association says he'd like to speak with the person in charge." The department head had been listening to the new employee's report without much concern, but a look of bewilderment now crossed his face. "Geum Geon-Hee?" "Yes." There couldn't possibly be two people named Geum Geon-Hee at the Korean Hunter's Association. The cooperative relationship between Sung Jin-Woo Hunter and the Korean Hunter's Association was already widely known. Wasn't Geum Geon-Hee the one who had announced Sung Jin-Woo Hunter's expedition this time? The department head's eyes went wide and he scrambled back to his desk, veins bulging in his neck. "Put the call through! Now!" "Ah, yes." "I've taken the call. Chairman Geum Geon-Hee. I'm the person in charge." The department head had picked up the receiver half-doubtful, but his face gradually stiffened as fluent Japanese poured out of it. "Yes, yes. Understood. Yes, I'll contact them right away."
* * *
No matter how many times he watched it, it never got old. "Wow..." Yoo Jin-Ho let out another exclamation of awe. The sight of the colossal black monster rising from the giant's corpse, kneeling before his brother and swearing its loyalty—every time he saw it, it struck him with the emotional impact of a movie scene. 'You're so cool, hyung!' As Yoo Jin-Ho gazed on with admiration shining in his eyes, noisy voices from behind reached his ears. "Whoa—!" "How is that even...?" "What... what is that?" Murmuring. He had seen it multiple times himself and still wasn't used to it—how must the villagers feel, seeing his brother's ability for the first time? Even though he couldn't understand the words, he could roughly guess the nature of the conversation. Yoo Jin-Ho felt his shoulders puff up with pride on their behalf. Ahem. As Yoo Jin-Ho was looking rather pleased with himself, two Japanese Hunter's Association staff members who had come to find him spoke up. "Excuse me, are you the Hunter?" "Ah, if you mean my brother, he's over there..." Yoo Jin-Ho pointed at Jin-Woo at the word 'Hunter,' but the staff member quickly shook his head and pointed at Jin-Ho instead. "No, no. You." Yoo Jin-Ho blinked. "Me?" "Yes." After having his identity confirmed once more in broken English, Yoo Jin-Ho absentmindedly took the mobile phone the staff member was holding out. As Yoo Jin-Ho listened on the phone, his face gradually hardened. Until the call ended, he just kept repeating "Yes, yes." Having stored the giant soldier as a shadow, Jin-Woo emerged from the abandoned warehouse. Yoo Jin-Ho approached him as if he had been waiting and bowed his head. "I'm sorry, hyung. I think I need to go back to Korea." Seeing Yoo Jin-Ho's serious expression, Jin-Woo asked. "What's going on?" "I'm not sure myself. They're telling me there's a problem at home and to come back right away." "..." Jin-Woo fell silent. If there was something he could guess, there was one possibility. 'Chairman Yoo's illness...' If that was it, then he could understand why the caller couldn't give Jin-Ho the full story. How could you tell your son abroad that his father had fallen into a vegetative state? Jin-Woo didn't ask any more. "Alright. You've worked hard up to now." "Not at all, hyung. I'm sorry I can't stay with you until the end." Yoo Jin-Ho apologized politely once more and climbed into the car the Japanese Association had prepared. The driver reversed the car and headed straight for the airport. '...' Jin-Woo silently watched the car disappear into the distance without a word.
Yoo Jin-Ho had tried to act composed in front of his brother, but the truth was he couldn't hide his anxiety. His mother's voice. That always gentle and warm voice had never sounded so shaken before. 'What happened?' His heart was pounding like thunder. Could it be that his father was furious because he had followed his brother to Japan on Japanese soil without permission? After all, no parent would welcome a child who voluntarily walked into danger. Sitting in the moving car staring blankly out the window, Yoo Jin-Ho shook his head vigorously as if trying to shake off his thoughts. 'No, let's just not think about anything.' He didn't even know what had happened, so worrying would only make his head muddle more. It might turn out to be nothing. That hope lingered a little until they arrived at Incheon Airport. But. "Yoo Jin-Ho." The moment he spotted Secretary Kim's swollen eyes waiting for him outside, he realized something serious had happened. "Mr. Kim..." "I've had the car waiting. Let's go together." —What happened? He wanted to ask more than anything. But he was too afraid of what answer he might get to put those seven syllables into words. "Hurry." Secretary Kim pointed toward the airport exit. "Ah..." But for some reason, his feet wouldn't move. As if knowing what he was feeling, Secretary Kim placed a hand on Yoo Jin-Ho's shoulder with a somber expression. "Jin-Ho... times like these are when you need to steel your heart. I'll explain everything on the way." At those words, tears began to well up in Yoo Jin-Ho's eyes. On the way, Secretary Kim explained Chairman Yoo's current condition. That can't be true. Yoo Jin-Ho desperately denied Secretary Kim's explanation in his mind. No—he just didn't want to believe it. But when they reached the hospital and he saw his father lying behind the glass wall, asleep as if dead, he had no choice but to believe. At the same time, he felt something inside him crumbling. His father, who had always seemed so strong, now collapsed by illness and lying there in such a wretched state—something surged up from within him. "Father!" Yoo Jin-Ho tried to rush into the hospital room immediately, but the doctors stopped him. A Hunter who couldn't control his mana could only worsen the patient's condition. At the doctor's explanation, Yoo Jin-Ho's face went pale. "I see..." He was a son who had always done nothing but disappoint his father. And now, at the very end, he couldn't even hold his father's hand once. Such a fittingly pathetic ending that even tears wouldn't come. "I really am a useless son to the very end." As Yoo Jin-Ho turned away dejectedly, Secretary Kim handed him a black leather-bound file. "This is... what?" Yoo Jin-Ho took the file and looked up. Secretary Kim said calmly, "It's what the Chairman was working on right before he collapsed. I kept it in case he woke up and asked for it, but I think Jin-Ho needs it more right now." "For me?" Yoo Jin-Ho looked back and forth between Secretary Kim and the file, then slowly opened it. It was full of newspaper clippings. Articles about his older brother Yoo Jin-Seong and his older sister Yoo Jin-Hee were neatly organized, not a single one missing. Father like son, son like father. He had always wondered where the habit of clipping any interesting article came from—it had been inherited from his father. 'So he had a hobby like this.' Even in the midst of his grief, seeing the photos of his brother and sister from their childhood made a small smile escape his lips. His brother and sister had been his father's pride. All sorts of competitions, contests, prestigious concours. Geniuses who had made names for themselves nationally in their respective fields. It was only natural that their articles filled the file. Every time he turned a page, Yoo Jin-Ho felt endlessly ashamed that not a single photo of himself was among them. And then his fingertip stopped on the last page.
[Vice President of Ajin Guild, Who Is Yoo Jin-Ho?] [The Two Hunters Who Went to Japan.] [A D-rank Hunter's Choice. Courage or Recklessness?]
Articles bearing his name. Even trivial gossip-level articles had been carefully cut out and pasted in. "Ah..." Words wouldn't come. Then a newspaper page, still half-cut, dropped to the floor. He hurriedly bent down to pick it up, and as he looked at the article, tears streamed down his eyes. It was an article containing a photo of him, smiling brightly and posing for the cameras on behalf of his brother, who had refused to be photographed by the reporters who came running after the boss-level giant was taken down. The date on the article was today. Secretary Kim placed his hand on Yoo Jin-Ho's shoulder and said, "Chairman Yoo did not fail to love you, Jin-Ho. His expectations for you grew exactly in proportion to how much he loved you." Yoo Jin-Ho stood with his shoulders trembling in silence for a while, then finally pulled himself together and rose to his feet. "Is there... is there a way to wake my father?" Secretary Kim shook his head with a dark expression. No patient who had entered the 'Final Sleep' state had ever woken up. With the sole exception of one case. Secretary Kim, having thought that far, found it difficult to speak. "Actually, Yoo Jin-Ho." "Yes?" "...Never mind. It's nothing." But Secretary Kim couldn't bring himself to say the words. There were times when giving someone false hope could be even crueler. This was one of those times. Yoo Jin-Ho gazing at his father through the glass with tears streaming down his face, and Secretary Kim swallowing the words he had wanted to say. The two people's conversation was being quietly overheard by Yoo Jin-Ho's shadow.
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