“How did you know?”
“The scanner malfunctioned.”
Without a scanner, people cannot detect demonic energy. It’s a prototype with an accuracy rate below 30 percent, but it’s still better than nothing—so Hunters from the Paranormal Phenomena Response Agency always carry one during missions.
Within a ten-meter radius, it can measure energy reliably. It’s often used to estimate a monster’s rank or pinpoint the core’s location. Though, at that distance, you could usually just see the monster with your own eyes.
During the Eid Portal incident at the MA Department Store, they had the scanner running—but it suddenly broke down. Right as Kim Sibaek completed his prayer.
“You probably already know how the scanner works, but just to explain—it detects energy flowing through the air. Things like a Hunter’s mana or a monster’s demonic energy. The scanner works like a filter. It blocks out mana and isolates only demonic energy to track it. But what happens if a massive, foreign energy that’s neither mana nor demonic gets mixed in?”
“The filter would tear or fail completely.”
“Exactly. When you released your energy while taking out the Portal Keeper, the scanners couldn’t block or extract any of it. If it had been just one unit, we might’ve chalked it up to a malfunction. But all three scanners failed at the same time. That makes the cause obvious, don’t you think?”
“……”
“Our theory is that you awakened to an unknown power—something other than mana—twenty-one years ago.”
And that explained everything. Why Kim Sibaek seemed to have more than one kind of trait. How he erased the Portal Keeper in a single strike.
Erased was the only word for it. There were no remains, not even a drop of fluid. Even if a monster was dissolved by poison or burned to ash, something was usually left behind. But he hadn’t consumed it like Tae Woon—he’d simply made it vanish. It was baffling.
Their abilities were different, but both Tae Woon and Kim Sibaek shared one strange trait: absolute erasure.
Trying to shift the mood, Director Noh gave a light smile.
“Not just Korea—the entire world is under threat from monsters and demonic energy. Even if you weren’t abducted by aliens but were an alien yourself, we would still ask for your help. For the sake of humanity.”
“And what if I’m a dangerous criminal?”
“Since the Cataclysm, one of the fastest-growing industries—right alongside Hunter weaponry—has been the development of tools to restrain and manage awakened criminals.”
The Cataclysm had changed everything: life alongside monsters, living with mana, even the nature of crime.
“For high-ranking awakened individuals, what matters most isn’t just power—it’s morality, ethics, and a sense of justice. In that sense, Guildmaster Tae Woon is an outstanding example.”
Trapped in Seoul after civilization collapsed and only the law of the jungle remained, Tae Woon still maintained order in his domain. After escaping, he worked with the government to apprehend criminals—even if his methods left them maimed or wishing they were dead.
“Thanks to Hunters like him, Korea has seen far fewer large-scale crimes by high-level Awakened compared to other countries. And you, Kim Sibaek, are said to have a close relationship with Guildmaster Tae Woon. I wasn’t a Seoul refugee myself, but I trust his judgment more than even my own—or Manager Gwak’s.”
Tae Woon had been only fourteen when the Cataclysm hit. That a child surviving in the ruins of Seoul could live so righteously, earning praise and trust, stirred a quiet pride in her chest.
“If you decide to stay in Korea, would you consider working with us? We’ll give you our full support.”
Before Kim Sibaek could answer—
“W-o-w, h-y-u-n-g, t-h-i-s, i-s, i-n-s-a-n-e.”
A voice spoke like it was reading out loud. Kim Sibaek looked up to see Pi Minhyung and greeted him warmly without hesitation.
“I was hanging out with some friends… Oh—wait, is that Director Noh?”
“Good to see you, Hunter Pi Minhyung.”
“Oh! Right, right. Director, didn’t you say your oldest kid’s in high school now?”
Despite his flashy appearance, Pi Minhyung bowed politely and shook hands with Director Noh. Then, with a smirk, he leaned in and whispered something. When he mentioned that one of his friends was Tae Woon, his eyes instinctively scanned the area.
Sure enough, there he was. Not in his usual suit and coat, but unmistakably Tae Woon.
Kim Sibaek waved, but instead of responding, Tae Woon clutched his head like he was in agony and trudged over like a drenched puppy.
[Death and Beauty is wondering what that oversized guy is even doing right now.]
Tae Woon’s tear-filled eyes widened when he realized Kim Sibaek’s blind date was Director Noh. His gaze flicked rapidly between the two of them, completely shaken.
Sensing the tension, Director Noh knew this was her cue to leave. Admiring Tae Woon’s skill was one thing—dealing with him in meltdown mode was another. She’d said everything she needed to say to Kim Sibaek.
“If you make a decision, please come visit us at the Agency anytime.”
Receiving a coat from her assistant waiting at the next table, Director Noh swiftly left the café.
“……”
Left at the table were Pi Minhyung, grinning like a fool, the confused Yang Eunho, and the frozen figures of Tae Woon and Kim Sibaek—one of them pale as a ghost.
Kim Sibaek waved a hand in front of Tae Woon’s face. The guy looked like he’d left his soul behind somewhere.
“You okay? Are you sick?”
By now, other patrons had started whispering, wondering aloud if the guy in the mask was really Tae Woon.
“H-hyung…”
Tae Woon dropped to his knees.
Even Kim Sibaek—and Pi Minhyung, who had been grinning beside him—flinched in shock. Click. Someone had taken a photo, and the sound of the shutter made Yang Eunho snap his head around. His eyes met the culprit’s, who awkwardly lowered their phone.
But Tae Woon didn’t care. He stumbled forward, and just as Kim Sibaek reached out to help him up, Tae Woon suddenly threw his arms around his waist and hugged him tight. Then he buried his face into Kim’s stomach, rubbing against it like a cat. Kim Sibaek’s hands flailed awkwardly in midair.
Tae Woon didn’t miss the look of panic on his face. In a voice as weak and fragile as a dying breath, he whimpered,
“You said it was a blind date…”
Kim Sibaek shut his eyes tight. It hit him—he’d been through something like this before, back when he was still a detective. He remembered now: a blind date his partner, Detective Park, had set him up on. He’d once casually told that story to Tae Woon.
That Saturday, right after school, Tae Woon had suddenly shown up at the date. It was awkward at first, but when he introduced him as a younger brother from the orphanage, his date had warmed up, and the atmosphere turned surprisingly nice. At least, until Tae Woon suddenly doubled over in pain.
Kim Sibaek had rushed him to the hospital, carrying him on his back. The diagnosis? Food poisoning. Tae Woon never explained where or what he ate. The date, naturally, was a disaster.
Compared to that… no, this was still better. Barely. Kim Sibaek sighed deeply and looked down at him.
“Are you really doing this because you took a joke seriously?”
“While you were having your cozy little date with the Director, I was over here picturing the two of you getting married, having a kid, and then a grandkid. What if your grandson ends up cuter than me?”
“Ugh… I’m not planning on getting married. But even if I did, it’d take decades before I had a grandkid.”
“So you’re saying when I’m all old and wrinkly in a few decades, I won’t be cute anymore? But you promised I’d still be cute after sixty… Si-baek hyung, you liar…”
“You idiot. There’s no way you’ll be cute at that age.”
The disgusted voice came from Pi Minhyung, who was rubbing the goosebumps off his arms.
“This is humiliating. Get up already.”
“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about this later—just get up, Woonie.”
“My legs gave out… I can’t stand…”
Even as he muttered dramatically, Tae Woon reached under the table and punched Pi Minhyung’s foot. Pi Minhyung winced, stood up, and moved to the opposite seat—dragging along Yang Eunho, who looked like his soul had left his body after witnessing the trainwreck he’d only heard rumors about.
[Death and Beauty says the herbal tea tastes bad now that it’s cold.]
Biendeoé, who hadn’t looked Tae Woon’s way even once—clearly expecting this kind of scene—remained the only composed one, calmly sipping her tea with her face buried in her mug. Seeing her usual Divine Words helped settle Kim Sibaek, who finally managed to lift Tae Woon into a sitting position.
Claiming he had no strength left, Tae Woon leaned dramatically against Kim Sibaek, fiddling with his hand as he continued to mutter lines that were absolutely destroying the mental health of both Pi Minhyung and Yang Eunho.
