Adam hurriedly checked whether Thomas was alive. Thump, thump, thump. He pressed his ear to Thomas's chest and heard a heartbeat. He placed his hand beneath his nose and confirmed breathing as well. Fortunately, both were normal. But Thomas was barely hanging on—alive, yet not truly living. His condition was that bad.
'To bring Thomas Andre, of all people, to this state…'
How many Hunters in the world could have done this to him? No—did any even exist? If word got out, the world would be turned on its head. Jin-Woo's power far exceeded what the Korean Hunter's Association had anticipated, and Adam felt something close to awe. But now was not the time for such admiration.
"Hurry!"
Adam gestured to a healer dispatched by the Hunter's Association. An elite healer rushed over and knelt down. After examining Thomas's condition before casting any healing magic, the healer clicked his tongue and spoke.
"Every bone in his body is broken. The bleeding is severe as well. I can't handle this alone—it'll be better if we all work together together."
At his request, additional healers were mobilized and they began treating Thomas. Could you fill a lake with a faucet? Thomas's stamina was immense, and healing him required extraordinary effort. While the healers sweated profusely and devoted themselves to treatment, Adam rose to his feet. The Association's Hunters were busy dragging the injured out of the abandoned factory.
"Ugh…" "My leg, my leg!"
The Scavengers' elite Hunters were in terrible shape. He hadn't seen how they'd been put in that condition, but he knew full well who had done it. One person against one guild. A single Hunter had destroyed one of the world's top guilds.
'Really…'
Adam couldn't help but marvel at Hunter Sung Jin-Woo's audacity and the skill that backed it up.
'Hm?'
Come to think of it, Hunter Sung Jin-Woo was nowhere to be seen. Adam looked around, searching for Jin-Woo, when a familiar melody reached his ears. It was his own phone's ringtone.
"Yes. This is White." [Mr. White. We've found Hunter Yoo Jin-Ho's location.]
It was a call from the Hunter's Association. Welcome news. Adam's face, which had been grim the entire time, brightened.
"Is that so? Where is he?"
The operative informed him that the injured Hunter Yoo Jin-Ho had been found in front of a large hospital nearby, and that with prompt emergency treatment, his life was not in danger.
"I'll head over as soon as I wrap things up here." [Understood.]
Adam hung up and let out a sigh of relief.
"Phew…"
If something had happened to Hunter Yoo Jin-Ho, he could only imagine the fury of Hunter Sung Jin-Woo. Just the thought sent chills down his spine. The spilled water couldn't be gathered back up. But the fact that the cup holding it hadn't shattered—that was a blessing in disguise. Feeling slightly relieved of that burden, he received another piece of not-bad news.
"Done."
The healers treating Thomas stood up. Adam asked.
"Is the Hunter all right?" "For now." "'For now'…?" "His body has been restored, but the injuries were so severe that it will take some time for him to regain consciousness." "Ah."
The healers' magic could erase physical damage, but it couldn't relieve the mental shock endured by the subject. Thomas Andre would have to stand vigil over his own recovery for as long as it took. Looking down at Thomas with a pained expression, the healer offered a word of comfort.
"But it's precisely because he's a nation-level Hunter that he held on this long. If any other Hunter had taken this much damage, they would have died ten times over." "That's… true."
Adam nodded in agreement, then suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Thomas had only survived because he was nation-level? A chill ran down Adam's spine. Then what had happened to Hunter Hwang Dong-Su, who had been on the receiving end of Hunter Sung Jin-Woo's rage? Was he here too? Face grim, Adam charged back into the abandoned factory where the injured were being carried out one after another. Someone shouted at him.
"Mr. White! Over here!"
The urgent voice quickened Adam's own pulse. Trying to calm his now-thudding heart, Adam rushed toward the voice. A Hunter from the Association stood with a grave expression beside someone else. Recognizing him, Adam murmured his name as though groaning.
"Hwang Dong-Su…"
The Hunter spoke to Adam.
"This man isn't breathing. His heart has stopped."
* * *
"You didn't call me out at this hour just to tell me it was a joke or some other nonsense, did you?"
The editor-in-chief's eyes were sharp as he stared at the reporter. Who was he? The editor-in-chief of the newspaper with the largest circulation on the East Coast of the United States. Under normal circumstances, a freelancer reporter wouldn't be in a position to summon him. But after hearing the contents of the phone call, he simply couldn't stay put. He had made a solemn vow—if this reporter had fed him a load of garbage, he'd find some charge and throw her in jail. Having rushed out in the same clothes he'd worn to work that day, he met the editor-in-chief's skeptical gaze, and the reporter waved her hands.
"Absolutely, absolutely not. This is one hundred percent real. You love real stuff, don't you, Editor-in-chief?" "Hmm…" "Then how much will you pay?" "Show me the photos first."
Frightened of something, the reporter glanced around nervously, then fished photos out of her bag. Receiving them with a blank expression, the editor-in-chief flipped through them—and his hand froze.
'T-This can't be!'
His eyes naturally drifted to the reporter's face. Seeing his expression—wordlessly asking how she had obtained such photos—the reporter puffed up her shoulders. The editor-in-chief's hands trembled as he continued flipping. Just as the reporter had said.
'Thomas Andre, bloodied and unconscious, the day before the International Guild Conference?'
And moreover. The face of the man who had felled him and calmly turned to walk away. Was that not Hunter Sung Jin-Woo? This was a scoop. No—a story this big couldn't be captured by the word 'scoop' alone. The editor-in-chief's breathing quickened. The reporter, peering at the photo where his gaze had stopped, added an explanation.
"This man did that to Thomas Andre. If you investigate this man's identity and turn it into a story, Editor-in-chief, it'll be absolute chaos."
This idiot! Westerners supposedly couldn't tell Asian faces apart, and sure enough, the reporter hadn't recognized Sung Jin-Woo. In this moment, the editor-in-chief was grateful to be Asian-American. At the same time, headlines for tomorrow's front page began forming in his mind.
[A Man Who Slew a Dragon, Bitten by an Asian Dragon?] [Giant Hunter Sung Jin-Woo, Slays Goliath?] [A Nation-Level Hunter's Roar Broken by Korea's Rising Star?]
No matter what words you used, this was news that would capture the world's attention. And it was an exclusive. With dozens of this-real photos in hand, how could it not be an explosive story? The value of these photos was limitless. The editor-in-chief's heart began to race. The reporter, noticing the shift in his eyes, snatched the photos back with lightning speed. The editor-in-chief clicked his tongue in frustration.
"Now that you've seen the photos, let's talk price. How much will you pay?"
"This is… a bit awkward for me to name a price."
Hesitating, the editor-in-chief glanced at the reporter and asked.
"Why don't you name a number? Yes—how much do you want?"
After a long moment of deliberation, the reporter held up five fingers. The editor-in-chief nodded.
"Fifty thousand dollars? Fine, deal." "No."
The reporter corrected him immediately.
"Five million dollars." "F-Five million?"
Five million dollars was nearly six hundred million won. Naturally, the editor-in-chief's face stiffened.
"If the price doesn't work, I'll take it elsewhere."
The reporter began tucking the photos back into her bag and turned to leave. But the editor-in-chief hurriedly stopped her.
"No, wait!"
In an era when even photos of celebrities' babies fetched millions of dollars, what reason could he have not to spend five million on a story like this? If word got out, television networks and rival newspapers would be talking about this for days on end. He couldn't let this opportunity slip! Finally steeling himself, the editor-in-chief spoke.
"Fine. We have a deal. But on the condition that you hand over both the photos and the originals, and you don't leak this information anywhere. Agreed?"
The deal was struck. The man, who had always scraped by at the bottom as a freelance reporter, replied with a trembling voice, already thinking of visiting his parents for the first time since leaving home.
"…Agreed."
* * *
The hospital room where Yoo Jin-Ho was admitted. He had passed the critical stage but had yet to regain consciousness. Yoo Jin-Ho kept letting out painful gasps. Morphine, meant to suppress the pain, didn't seem to be doing much. Some time passed. When the doctor checking on him left the room, a dark figure rose from the shadows that had slipped inside. Ssssh. It was Beru, who had switched places with Jin-Woo through Shadow Exchange. Following his master's orders, Beru reached out to treat Yoo Jin-Ho. A soft blue light spread from his fingertips. Yoo Jin-Ho's strained expression eased almost instantly. Beru already possessed power far beyond that of any ordinary S-rank Hunter, and his healing magic was no exception. He slowly erased Yoo Jin-Ho's wounds, working carefully enough to heal even the mental shock. A warm sensation spread through his entire body, and Yoo Jin-Ho, who had been tossing and turning, gently opened his eyes.
"Huh…?"
A massive ant head filled his vision. The ant head, of all things, was pressing a finger to its own lips in a shushing gesture, telling him to be quiet.
"…Must be a dream."
Yoo Jin-Ho closed his eyes again and drifted back to sleep with a blissful expression.
"…"
Through it all, Beru continued to focus silently on the treatment. And so the night deepened.
* * *
South Korea, Seoul. Fourteen hours ahead of the East Coast of the United States—it was night there, but morning here. A deserted playground. The Black Knight, who had his head buried in the sand beside the swings, spoke.
"My King. How long must I remain like this like this?"
Jin-Woo, seated quietly on the swing and waiting for Beru's signal, answered without expression.
"Hmm… Until Beru reports that he's finished treating Jin-Ho?" "…"
Whether he understood his own fault or not, the knight maintained his bombardment posture in silence. Looking down at the knight, Jin-Woo happened to glance at his own hand. The back of it was a mess. Bruised in spots, with traces of blood too. Thomas Andre had been absurdly tough. Just punching him had left marks on Jin-Woo's hand. Of course, these wounds too would heal cleanly after one night's sleep, thanks to the "Fortune of Longevity" passive skill.
'…I'm sleepy.'
A wave of fatigue washed over him. The noisy day was quietly coming to an end. The shadow soldier, who had been silent for a while, spoke again.
"My King…" "What?" "Would you grant me a name as well?"
Jin-Woo's gaze shifted to the shadow soldier.
[?? LV.1] General rank
Right, you need a name too. After thinking for a moment, Jin-Woo smiled bitterly and spoke.
"You died from greed, so how about Greed?"