She’d finally worked up the courage to ask, but Cloud didn’t respond. Had he not heard her properly? Hyoju Agnes suddenly felt the urge to bolt.
Was this some kind of tactic scammers used to condition their victims before making a move? What should she do? Should she have at least told Father and Sister Benedicta before coming here? Should she prove she had no money—maybe show her bank account? Oh Lord…!
Just as she was about to mentally confirm the man before her was a scammer, a voice broke through the silence.
“I received the email.”
“…What?”
“It’s about your mother, Sister.”
Only then did Hyoju Agnes realize he was finally answering the question she’d asked a long while ago.
Even after speaking, the man stayed silent, staring at her with such intensity that her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Eventually, he moved his lips again—slowly.
“Her current name is Kang Misook. Before the name change, she was Kang Mihye. Date of birth…”
The personal details he recited in that slow, deliberate tone were undeniably her mother’s. A chill crawled over her skin, but she forced herself to listen. This might be her first real clue in over twenty years—something about her half-sibling or her mother’s lingering regrets.
“Kang Mihye had a cousin who ran away with her from their hometown. After an accident left Kang Mihye paralyzed on one side, she found out about her cousin’s situation and…”
“W-Wait!”
As his words continued, Hyoju Agnes’s eyes grew wide in disbelief until she finally sprang to her feet.
“H-How do you know that?!”
Decades ago, the real Kang Mihye had kept it to herself: even though she’d suffered a workplace accident and been tossed out without so much as compensation, sinking into despair, her cousin still had a chance. Her cousin—who ran away, abandoning even her own child, clinging to a sliver of hope—had the strength to start over.
In the end, Kang Mihye left behind a will. She took her own life, handing over her name—her entire identity—to her cousin. She even left instructions to one day reclaim her true name.
The cousin who lived on as Kang Mihye gave birth to two children. Years later, she legally changed her name to Kang Misook.
She was Hyoju Agnes’s mother.
It was a truth known only to the family. No one else could’ve known it.
So how the hell did this man…?
The commotion drew glances from the surrounding customers. A staff member, also a parishioner at the church, cautiously approached.
“Um, Sister… Is everything all right?”
His expression made it clear—if she was in danger, he was ready to call the police on her behalf. Hyoju Agnes somehow managed to pull herself together.
“I-It’s fine. I’m so sorry for the disturbance.”
After sending the staffer away, she collapsed back into her seat and took several long, steadying breaths before finally asking,
“…What is it you’re trying to say?”
Even now, the man’s expression didn’t change.
“I don’t remember my mother’s face. I have no memory of her.”
“…Sorry? What are you talking about—”
“She ran away when I was very young. Judging from the vague memories I have of my father… I think she fled because of domestic abuse.”
“…….”
“All I know about her is what I was told later. That she used to live near the sea. That she left her hometown. That she was good at making pork cutlets.”
A different kind of shock began to settle over Hyoju Agnes. A thought crept into her mind—No way…
“…Who told you that?”
“I had an older brother. He was already in elementary school back then, so he was a few years older than me.”
For the first time, the man’s expression cracked. He let out a soft breath, almost like a sigh.
“And… my Korean name is Kim Siwoon.”
***
The Hunter delegation arrived at Sunan Airport and boarded a limousine bus heading to a hotel in downtown Pyongyang. That evening’s schedule included a welcome ceremony and dinner at the hotel. Tomorrow morning, they would depart for Gae-seong.
The Pyongyang scenery Kim Sibaek had only seen in old photos had always looked artificially polished, yet cold and hollow. But now, seeing it with his own eyes, it felt different. The streets visible through the bus windows bustled with more people than expected, and the city buzzed with life.
“Is it because it’s only been open to outsiders for a few years? I see a lot of tourists.”
“That’s part of it. But outside the major cities, things fall apart. Once people vanish, the monsters spread, more people leave, and it just keeps spiraling.”
Only two decades had passed on Earth, and yet everything had changed. Eventually, they arrived at the Ryugyong Hotel—completed just two years ago—and unpacked their luggage. While many of the others went sightseeing or explored the hotel, Kim Sibaek chose to rest in his room.
Soon, it was time for the welcome ceremony. Kim Sibaek headed down to the convention hall with Tae Woon, holding Biendeoé in his arms. After a formal welcome from the Central Military Commission of the Workers’ Party—who had come all the way to the hotel to greet them—the banquet began.
“I feel like I’ll die if I’m not right next to you…”
Tae Woon clung to him, nervously fidgeting with his hand. Kim Sibaek patted his butt gently.
“You’re the Guildmaster. Meeting people at events like this is part of the job, right? Go do your thing and do it well.”
This was a gathering of elite guilds—including the biggest names in the business. Whether for intel exchange or networking, it was a necessary place for someone like Tae Woon. After gently coaxing him into the crowd, Kim Sibaek returned with Biendeoé and loaded up a buffet plate.
[Death and Beauty is curious about the name of this fruit.]
Biendeoé happily munched on the small, round fruit with its soft white flesh. Kim Sibaek, having never seen it before either, poked it curiously with his fork.
“Hm… Maybe it’s some kind of tropical fruit?”
“You’re talking to the crow, right? That’s lychee. It was supposedly Yang Guifei’s favorite.”
Na Jungwoo dropped into the seat across from him, carrying his own plate.
“Huh? Hunter Na Jungwoo, weren’t you assigned to a different table?”
“I’ve been given a special mission by the Guildmaster—eliminate any pesky flies buzzing around my mentor.”
“……?”
Spouting nonsense, Na Jungwoo began scanning the room with a fierce glint in his eyes. His reputation as a hothead who rushed into fights—S-rank or not—without thinking twice had everyone second-guessing themselves. The Hunters who’d been throwing glances at Kim Sibaek now kept their distance, intimidated by Jungwoo’s bulldog-like presence.
Meanwhile, completely unaware of the silent standoff unfolding behind him, Kim Sibaek tilted his head with a far less urgent thought.
Yang Guifei… That name sounds familiar. Who was she again?
Still, Na Jungwoo’s intimidation didn’t always work. It especially failed when facing someone who’d already knocked him flat before—like Kim Sibaek or Pi Minhyung.
“Finally! I’ve been dying to meet you! That bastard Tae Woon guarded you like a dragon hoarding treasure.”
With a hearty voice, someone clapped a thick arm over Na Jungwoo’s shoulder, acting overly chummy. Kim Sibaek turned toward the source, only recognizing the person when he saw the eyepatch over the woman’s left eye.
Ah, right—she was the Guildmaster of that ridiculously long-named group… Tobazishu-something. The woman had built a shelter in Seoul like Tae Woon had.
Kim recognized the face, but the name still escaped him, so his expression faltered. Fortunately, the woman grinned and extended a hand.
“Justyna Nowacka. I’m from the Hanyang Yoo clan, so call me Guildmaster Yoo or Stina—whatever works.”
Back in the Atrebathum Empire, where he usually operated through Mak Slechth, handshakes weren’t a common custom. Kim Sibaek, long unaccustomed to it, stared at her hand for a moment before finally reaching out and giving a delayed shake.
He meant it to be a light grip, but what came back was a vice-like squeeze that clamped down to his bones. So this is what they call a power move, he thought. Should he squeeze back just as hard to hold his ground?
Before he could decide, Justyna released his hand.
“Oops—sorry! Didn’t mean anything by it. Just force of habit.”
“Ugh, stop trying to pull something on my mentor and go back to your table.”
“Jungwoo, where do you want that bruise this time?”
“…Tch.”
Na Jungwoo clicked his tongue but didn’t argue. Meanwhile, Justyna casually took a seat at Kim Sibaek’s table like she’d been invited.
“I’ve been dying to meet you, Sibaek. But Tae Woon and Secretary Yang are impossible. They wouldn’t even let a single call through.”
“Do you have something specific to say to me?”
“You healed my arm, didn’t you?”
