The name didn’t ring any bells for Kim Sibaek, but Jo Byungseok and the vice-guildmaster of the Tobazishu Hussars seemed to recognize it vaguely.
“Ah, right—he’s the one who discovered the behavioral patterns of fire ants, isn’t he?”
Apparently, he was a fairly well-known figure among Hunters. Tae Woon gave a small smile and nodded, confirming Kim Sibaek’s guess.
“He’s a researcher at the Oregon National Laboratory in the U.S.—one of the top names in monsterology. Not exactly a household name, though, at least not outside our circles.”
Even Gwak Yoonsang, who’d been unusually accommodating toward Kim Sibaek, added some background info.
“He’s Korean-American, adopted to the States when he was a kid. He’s in his early forties… or mid-forties? Somewhere around there.”
Given that he was a respected scholar in monsterology, it wasn’t weird or inappropriate for him to express interest in observing a raid. Korean researchers did it all the time.
But with Edokers stirring up who-knew-what behind the scenes, having an outsider suddenly tagging along was unsettling.
“Was there any particular reason this was decided so suddenly?” Kim Sibaek asked.
“Well, since it’s such a large-scale raid, we did get a few inquiries from foreign labs. But we cut them off at just video sharing. Oregon got turned down too. But Dr. Carter sent in a separate, urgent request.”
Gwak Yoonsang explained that Carter had pulled every string he could in Korea, and in the end, they hadn’t been able to refuse. Tae Woon eyed him skeptically.
“What about security? If you’re suddenly expecting us to babysit some outsider, that’s going to be a problem.”
“I’ve agreed to handle his protection personally. And… well, maybe it’s an American thing, but the contract he submitted was airtight. It states clearly that he won’t hold the Korean government or any Korean guild responsible for anything that happens to him during his time in the North—including death. He’s completely waiving liability.”
It was practically the same as begging to be let in. Jo Byungseok and the vice-guildmaster both blinked in disbelief.
“I mean… it’s just an S-rank monster. America has plenty of those. Why go that far?”
“He said he needs it for a paper on aquatic monsters that appear on land. Apparently, it’s essential to his research.”
Gwak Yoonsang scratched his head, clearly unsure of the full story. Kim Sibaek, meanwhile, listened in silence, though his expression grew more complex. Tae Woon noticed and leaned in, speaking in a low, casual murmur.
“If it’s bothering you, want me to pull up something online and show you?”
“No need. I’ll see him myself in two days anyway.”
The Dragon Eel raid wasn’t expected to be that difficult. As long as he kept a close eye on the guy, it should be fine. Kim Sibaek steeled himself with quiet resolve.
***
“My Korean name is Kim Siwoon.”
At that, Sister Hyoju Agnes froze. It wasn’t the kind of reaction you’d expect from someone hearing a meaningless name. Cloud narrowed his eyes slightly. Then, after a long pause, she asked an odd question.
“U-um… do you know the Chinese characters for your name?”
“I don’t remember.”
What child remembers the Chinese characters of their own name? He wouldn’t even know the name Kim Siwoon if his brother hadn’t kept calling him that. Their father had only ever used slurs and curses to address him.
Sister Hyoju Agnes closed her mouth again. Her pale face gradually regained some color. Strangely enough, it looked like his inability to remember had convinced her he was telling the truth.
What Cloud didn’t realize was that she was thinking: If he were trying to fake this, he’d have looked up the meaning of our second brother’s name too. The fact that he doesn’t know actually makes him more believable.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Whether she was his half-sister or not, her reaction meant nothing to Cloud. He reached into his bag and pulled out two DNA test kits.
“What’s that?”
“We’ll need a DNA test. If I handle the testing myself, there’s a risk you’ll think I tampered with the results. So we’ll each send it to different labs.”
Calm and methodical as ever, Cloud’s tone didn’t waver. Sister Hyoju Agnes blinked a few times, then slowly nodded. Cloud demonstrated how to collect the sample first, swabbing the inside of his cheek. She followed suit, taking her own saliva sample.
That was all the prep they needed.
Cloud was itching to ask her if she knew where his brother was, or even just his name. But he held himself back. There was still a chance she wasn’t his half-sister. It wouldn’t be too late to start asking questions after the truth was confirmed.
Which meant he needed to get the samples submitted for analysis as quickly as possible. He checked the time. If he left the café immediately, he could catch the evening flight. Once he returned home, he’d send the samples out via express courier. Results would be in within a few days.
With his plan locked in, Cloud pushed back his chair.
“I’ll contact you once the results come in—”
“Um, excuse me…”
Sister Hyoju Agnes, who had been lost in thought with a distant look on her face, suddenly lifted her eyes. Cloud did a quick mental check—he still had about 20 minutes to spare—and turned to face her.
“What should I call you? Dr. Kim Siwoon?”
“Just call me Carter.”
“Okay… Dr. Carter.”
She repeated his name softly and clasped her hands together. He could see her thin fingers trembling slightly on the table.
“You said your brother told you about our mother, right?”
“Yes. He did.”
“Then… were you adopted together with your brother?”
A subtle crack appeared in Cloud’s expression.
Her question hinted at something he hadn’t wanted to hear: she didn’t know. She didn’t know where his brother was, what he did, or even what kind of person he’d become.
A wave of bitter disappointment surged through him, strong enough to drown. Only now did he realize how desperately he’d clung to that sliver of hope—all sparked by one anonymous email. For someone who’d grown numb after two decades of failure and dead ends, allowing even a flicker of hope had come at a steep price.
…Which meant there had been no reason to fly to Korea. No reason to meet Hyoju Agnes. No reason to do a DNA test. Everything—every step he’d taken—had been meaningless.
Though he didn’t speak, the look on his face gave him away. Hyoju Agnes saw it and seemed to understand.
“Ah… I guess you weren’t.”
She fidgeted awkwardly, her fingers nervously twisting around each other as her voice stumbled forward in disjointed bits.
“Our mother didn’t talk about my brothers much. I don’t even know their last names… All she ever told me were the Chinese characters in their names and maybe their age. If you really are my second-oldest brother, then the oldest would probably be around fifty now. And his name, it was… uh, it was…”
Her voice faltered and stopped.
Her expression changed in an instant. Her eyes widened and lost focus, and her mouth fell slightly open, stunned. She looked completely blindsided. But what Cloud focused on wasn’t her face—it was what she’d just said. The Chinese characters. The age. For the first time in nearly forty years, he had a lead on his brother.
“You know the characters in his name? And his age?”
His voice came out tighter than he’d meant, urgency bleeding through. Whether she noticed or not, Hyoju Agnes only opened and closed her mouth wordlessly, still too shaken to respond.
And then, just as the quiet tension settled in the air, the café’s ambient music was suddenly overlaid by the crisp voice of a news anchor.
[Meanwhile, participating in the Dragon Eel raid is none other than Hunter Kim Sibaek—the world’s only healer-class Awakener. He should be arriving at Sunan Airport right about now. Haha, and of course, Hunter Kim isn’t Awakened through traditional means, but rather through his unwavering faith—]
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I hit the wrong button!”
An employee, panicking after mistakenly playing a livestream instead of music, quickly shut off the broadcast. Hyoju Agnes, her voice trembling, managed to push the words out.
“That… that’s the name. The one that uses the chinese character…”
“What?”
Cloud blinked. He didn’t know the first thing about Chinese characters. His confusion was obvious.
Hyoju Agnes blinked rapidly, then slowly looked up and stared directly at the man sitting across from her.
Until now, she’d been too wary to really look at him—unsure if he was a fraud or someone with an agenda. But now, as she truly saw him, his features began to align with a memory. He looked impossibly young, almost untouched by time, and his cold expression had softened just enough for something familiar to shine through.
Someone had once stared at her the same way—shaken after realizing how much she resembled their mother. Someone who might have known exactly who she was from the beginning… and chosen to pretend otherwise.
