“Jeongchoduk? The one over there? Why, did something happen?”
There weren’t any articles yet, and no rumors either. It didn’t seem like anything major had happened. If there was an embargo, that meant the dungeon’s classification had to be serious.
“Special classification or not, looks like all the residents there are going to have to move out.”
“…What is it? An Overflow?”
“……”
“Unstable? Did the rating go up?”
“Not certain yet.”
“Ugh, seriously…!”
Just because there was an unstable dungeon nearby didn’t mean incidents would erupt every five minutes or that people would constantly be getting hurt. But the number of Hunters coming and going would definitely change.
Kim Jeong-baek was also an Unregistered Awakened—an A-rank one at that. Unlike in Seoul, he couldn’t hide among a massive crowd, so naturally, he’d be anxious, paranoid, feeling the floor give under his feet.
“Why are dungeons popping up in quiet places like this anyway? I was already stressing over Seo-ryong’s Awakening test next year…”
“Do you think dungeons are created based on population count? And besides, you’re not the one taking the test—what’s the big deal? Most minors don’t even Awaken, so it’s usually just a formality.”
“I just don’t want to step foot in a Bureau of Regulation building. But I doubt my sister could take her properly even if I asked her.”
“Well, there’s no harm in being cautious. The moment your Awakening skill shows, they’ll flag you as a potential threat.”
No one really knew how it worked, but Kim Jeong-baek had an exceptional talent for locating someone’s records.
If his skill became known, intelligence agencies and shady organizations alike wouldn’t leave him alone. Honestly, it might be safer to go back to the old days—get caught by the Bureau and forced into labor.
Just imagining him with a monitoring chip jabbed into his arm, whining and grumbling, made the prospect of getting tangled up with him feel less dangerous and more just… annoyingly tedious. That alone was enough to want to avoid the situation entirely.
“Sigh… I’ll look into it for now, but…”
Kim Jeong-baek already had a somber, troubled expression. But unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the end of it.
“And, I need you to scrape up some S-rank info too.”
“Huh? That’s even more of a no-go for me.”
“Someone came to Jeongchoduk. Just one.”
“…Excuse me?!”
His face contorted in alarm, which, strangely enough, brought a sense of relief to Cha Eui-sung. Sharing the misery didn’t exactly halve it, but at least he wasn’t suffering alone. That, in itself, felt like a small comfort.
“Normally, he wouldn’t even glance at a backwater like this, but… mm. Got a weird feeling about it.”
“You saying that only makes it scarier…!”
S-ranks might technically be right above A-ranks in the System’s hierarchy, but come on. That “one rank” difference was anything but minor—it was a whole other dimension.
Jealousy only works between equals. Those who hadn’t seen an S-rank in person treated them with reverence; those who had seen them after a battle harbored a flicker of fear.
“You know I’m not a miracle worker, right?”
“Just keep it within safe limits. I just need to know what they’re up to.”
“Even with triple pay, this one’s a hard pass. I’m only moving on this because it’s you, boss.”
“Then I’ll make sure to compensate you accordingly.”
Kim Jeong-baek liked money. He had a keen sense for risk and reward, and still somehow managed to get caught up in dangerous stuff now and then.
But the past few months had been abnormally profitable—thanks to someone—so it would take more than pocket change to get a real reaction out of him these days.
“There’s a private academy run by the SY Foundation.”
“Oh, I know that place. The one everyone gripes about, saying it’s just a school for rich brats?”
“It’s got some unusual policies. Once enrolled, students have to reside in that district. Otherwise, they get assigned to dorms by default. But those dorms go to the kids with scholarships, ranked by academic performance.”
“Then…”
“I think I can get a recommendation letter. But how are little kids supposed to move there without a guardian?”
Cha Eui-sung left the sentence hanging, but Jeong-baek instantly caught his meaning, his eyes widening in realization.
“Wait—that place isn’t somewhere you can just buy your way into, right?”
“Exactly. Which is why the academic pressure isn’t as bad either. Most of the kids there have things going on besides school.”
Opportunity was the real hurdle—not tuition. After preventing the world’s end, Kim Jeong-baek would make more than enough money through him to cover it many times over.
With Jeong-baek footing the bill, the kid’s parents wouldn’t raise a fuss about letting him go.
And even if, by chance, they did get greedy over tuition, Kim Jeong-baek wasn’t the type to just sit there and take it. He wasn’t some naturally docile pushover—he just didn’t want to drag his niece into a legal custody fight.
His cheeks flushed with joy. He began bouncing on his feet like a kid, pulling up the school’s website as he declared in a determined voice—
“I’ll dig up everything, even on that S-rank geezer’s grandfather if I have to!”
“Spare me the grandfathers. Just dig up info on the S-rank himself, please. And be careful.”
“Yessir, heheh! By the way, who was it that came to Jeongchoduk? Start with that and I’ll start piecing things together.”
“Go Yeong-won. I already know the basics, so just keep tabs on his recent activity.”
“Got it. Request received.”
Go-Go-Yeong, Go Yeong-won, Forever Yeongwon~
Murmuring a weird little tune, Kim Jeong-baek pressed his phone to his ear and disappeared into the back room, leaving his guest alone in the living room.
“Hey, Jeong-ga. I’ve got something to ask you…”
Cha Eui-sung, pretending not to hear the muffled phone call, sat in the living room and awkwardly shook the water from his damp hair.
Bzzz
His phone buzzed suddenly. It was the call he’d been waiting on—from the insurance company.
He had specifically asked them not to call unless it was urgent, but they’d sent him an entire petition via text and email.
The actual message, though, was frustratingly short and direct.
[Regardless of the damage level, we’ll issue a brand-new replacement. However, there are some terms to be negotiated. As you’re aware, the at-fault party is an S-rank.]
Basically, they’d pay him handsomely and wanted him to keep his mouth shut about the incident. Normally, some paper-pusher from the Association would show up waving documents and rush him to sign before vanishing.
But something about this felt off. It didn’t make any logical sense, but… he had a hunch he’d be seeing Go Yeong-won again.
Even though there was no reason in the world for someone like him to care about this kind of thing… the gut feeling wouldn’t go away.
[I’d prefer not to be involved with the at-fault party. Please handle any negotiation via email or phone. If a signature is needed, send an electronic contract.]
Cha Eui-sung quickly backed off and tossed the phone aside.
Turning on the TV like it was his own place, he tried watching the news to distract himself. Before long, Kim Jeong-baek reappeared from the room.
“You know I can hear everything you’re saying, right?”
“Yeah, well, still feels weird having a call like that right in front of you. Anyway… are you really planning to keep tabs on Seo-ryong now?”
“Yeah. Starting today, I want detailed updates.”
Going home only filled his head with dark thoughts.
Cha Eui-sung brushed back his damp hair, swallowing the rest of that thought before it could leave his lips.
***
SSSSSSZZZK!
“Why do you always try cooking stuff you’ve never made before?”
SHHHAAAA—!
“You don’t even do it right.”
“Oh no, it’s burning!”
“It’s not burning—it’s sticking to the bottom.”
“Then it’s going to burn, isn’t it?”
“I’m going to add water. You’re not helping, so please go play the part of the concerned family member over there.”
Cha Eui-sung scrunched his face, gesturing toward Seo-ryong, who was wearing a toy stethoscope.
He’d had a bad feeling from the moment Kim Jeong-baek pulled out a slab of meat instead of using the perfectly good store-bought sauce for his so-called spaghetti.
Then he dumped the onions and meat into the pot all at once, let it bubble away, and randomly opened the pantry only to mutter, “Oh, crap… this is somyeon (thin noodles), huh…”
Wasn’t it about time he admitted he had neither talent nor interest in cooking and just stuck to prepackaged meals like a normal person? The guy wasn’t exactly short on cash.
Eui-sung should’ve noped out the second he heard that line. But he’d gotten roped in while half-listening to Seo-ryong’s rambling report.
Unable to withstand the girl’s wide-eyed stare, Cha Eui-sung sighed and physically pushed Kim Jeong-baek aside.
“What were you planning to make with minced meat this wet?”
“Well, if the heat’s too high, everything burns, y’know? Haha… But it’s not bad, right, Seo-ryong?”
“I mean… I guess not…”
He’d once lived through a time where he couldn’t afford to be picky about ingredients, so he was good at making almost anything taste decent.
Still, he really should’ve bailed. Trying to earn a little goodwill for once had landed him with the responsibility of feeding this household again.
“Let it simmer for a bit, then it’s good to eat. Just keep stirring it with the ladle.”
As he washed his hands, Kim Jeong-baek—who’d been moaning dramatically while cradling a tissue-wrapped doll—leapt up and scurried over to the stove.
Once Cha Eui-sung settled into a chair at the dining table, Seo-ryong took off the stethoscope and came to sit across from him.
“Oh right. The teacher told me not to tell Uncle.”
“…Tell him what?”
“The school sports day. He was supposed to tell Uncle yesterday, but then he came up to me later and said not to.”
“He knows… that you talk to me?”
“Umm, I didn’t say it like that. Just that I tell you stuff a lot.”
Well, unless Moon Tae-young had completely lost his mind, he must’ve figured out by now that Seo-ryong’s school life was trickling straight to him.
He’d even heard the weird rumors from Seo-ryong before anyone else.
“But the teacher said he’d tell you himself and told me not to. He said a bunch of people we don’t know are coming.”
It wasn’t a lie. He had mentioned it offhand that morning.
He really had just mentioned it—no invitation, no suggestion to come, no hint of excitement. He’d tossed it out like a boring chore.
And yeah, Cha Eui-sung had been irritated by that, so it did seem like his plan to make him lose interest had worked.
Well, too bad. I already said I’d go.
Moon Tae-young probably never imagined Seo-ryong would spill the whole thing. Now that he knew, this school event that once felt like a nuisance suddenly got a lot more interesting.
“Kim Jeong-baek.”
“Yeah? It’s almost ready.”
“Not the curry. Out of everyone who might show up, who’s the person I’d most hate running into?”
“Uh… let’s see? Grandpa Hae-jung? Ji-seok hyung? Mr. Gu? Madam Yang, too. Oh, and Mrs. Jeongeup.”
“Are you kidding me… Why are there so many?!”
“That’s what I’d like to know!”
