The man looked no older than his early twenties, yet his appearance was strikingly flamboyant. It wasn’t just his features—his whole style radiated extravagance.
His sharp, well-defined face stood out against skin so pale it was almost ghostly. Long, jet-black hair spilled over his shoulders, and beneath it, both ears glittered with piercings—so many cubic studs dangled from them that they resembled a Christmas tree at a glance. Layered necklaces and bracelets gleamed in polished metal, while rings covered every finger. His casual T-shirt bore bold foreign lettering; though not all of it was clear, the word coup d’état stood out, leaving no doubt about the rebellious tone.
He looked nothing like the dignified figure one might imagine as the head of a government bureau. In fact, he seemed completely out of place in this plain, ordinary office. Yet, judging by how comfortably Hae-hyun’s parents and Hae-hyun himself addressed him, he really was the Chief.
“Well then, so this is the one. Department heads, you may return to work.”
The Chief waved his hand lightly, but instead of leaving, Hae-hyun’s mother snapped back with a fierce question. Her tone was so sharp it sounded like she was about to strike him.
“How long are you going to keep Seo-cheon on assignment? You know the In-gye division is already falling behind.”
“I know, I know. But Hallakung-nim threw a fit—said he wouldn’t give us the flowers unless Seo-cheon helped. What can I do? He’s already grumbling about cutting trade since the flower harvest dropped this year. You know how much Memory Flowers and Whispering Flowers the Guardian Agency uses annually, don’t you? We’re completely at his mercy.”
“…Please reach a compromise quickly.”
With a glare sharp enough to draw blood, Hae-hyun’s mother turned on her heel. Her husband followed, offering Jae-ha and Hae-hyun a quick nod on his way out.
“See you later.”
Clack. The door shut. Left standing awkwardly, Jae-ha and Hae-hyun turned their eyes toward the Chief, who smiled pleasantly.
“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard quite a bit about you. You’ve got a Guardian Talisman, right?”
He looked Jae-ha’s age, but standing this close, Jae-ha could feel something far deeper—an aura impossible to put into words. After digging through his memory, he realized it was oddly similar to what he sometimes felt from Su-min.
“It’s not really mine. I found it while sorting through my grandmother’s belongings. I don’t know if she was ever part of the Guardian Agency.”
“Hmm. I heard she was a Cheonrok descendant.”
“Yes.”
The Chief stroked his chin. His black-painted nails glinted under the light.
“Seong-won?”
“…Excuse me?”
“Your grandmother—was her name Seong-won?”
Jae-ha paused. No one had ever referred to his grandmother so casually. Lee Seong-won. Yes, that was her name.
“Yes. Lee Seong-won.”
“Then she was definitely with the Guardian Agency.”
Relief washed over Jae-ha’s face. At least he wouldn’t be branded the thief of a sacred relic.
“Cheonrok’s descendants barely carry its energy. To most, she would’ve seemed like an ordinary civilian—which was exactly how she preferred it.”
These days, few spiritual beasts or their descendants remained in Korea, and even fewer became exorcists. That was why the Guardian Agency had so many civilians working in administration, support, and management roles.
Thanks to that, Jae-ha’s grandmother, Seong-won, had been able to disguise herself as a normal person and work in administration. In fact, only a handful within the agency had even known she was a Cheonrok descendant.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard her name. Brings back memories.”
The Chief’s eyes clouded with nostalgia.
“She was always sneaking drinks from storage. I don’t know how many times I had to discipline her for it… and she never learned. Truly a ridiculous woman.”
“……”
That didn’t sound like a compliment. He wasn’t about to make me pay for it, was he? And why did a government storage even have alcohol in the first place? The questions piled up too quickly to bother voicing any of them.
“…She did seem to enjoy drinking.”
His safe reply made the Chief nod vigorously.
“She loved it. Always mingling with the heavy drinkers of the Celestial Realm and the Underworld. Even more so after she got the Guardian Talisman.”
“Why give her a Guardian Talisman if she was just in administration?”
That question came from Hae-hyun, who had been frowning the entire time, clearly unconvinced.
“Not even all field agents get one. Why give it to an administrator?”
“She was a Cheonrok descendant.”
The Chief’s tone was gentle but firm.
“Rookie, have you already forgotten? Her grandson here almost got dragged to the Underworld not long ago. If it happens, it happens—but you need a way back. The world’s far too dangerous otherwise.”
Cheonrok’s aura might have kept others from openly harming her, but greed could still drive someone to pull her into their domain. It had happened to her several times while she worked at the agency. Without the Guardian Talisman, she might never have returned—trapped forever in another world.
“Granted, a few incidents were her own doing… but we couldn’t just abandon her. So we let her borrow it for life.”
The Chief sighed theatrically.
“Didn’t expect her to die like that, though.”
The bitterness in his voice quickly faded as he smiled again. It seemed meant to look natural, but came off strangely artificial.
“Please return the Guardian Talisman soon. They’re hard to make, and we need to conserve them.”
“Yes.”
Jae-ha nodded. Now that he knew its origin, he had no reason to keep it. He could bring it back next weekend.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
Just as the conversation seemed finished, it wasn’t. Jae-ha looked at him curiously, and the Chief leaned in closer.
“Do you have a job yet?”
“I’m still a student.”
“Perfect.”
…Perfect? Before Jae-ha could even ask, the Chief continued.
“What do you think about joining the Guardian Agency after you graduate?”
“…What?”
The sudden offer left Jae-ha suspicious. He had only just been told he had too little energy to even bother training. What use could he possibly be?
“I don’t know how to exorcise or anything like that.”
“Oh, that’s fine. I wouldn’t have you do that.”
Then what would he have him do? Jae-ha’s suspicion deepened.
“What I need you for is sales.”
The Chief’s smile turned sly.
“In-gye tends to get looked down on compared to the other realms. Negotiations have been stalling because of it. And frankly, the power gap is real.”
Celestial Realm, Underworld, Dragon Palace, and In-gye. Among them, In-gye was a shrimp caught between whales.
The other realms were filled with powerful beings, but when they stepped outside their own world, they could barely wield thirty percent of their strength. That was why inter-realm dealings usually happened in In-gye, where everyone was equally weakened.
But thirty percent was still more than enough to wreak havoc in the human world. As the reluctant hub between realms, In-gye lacked the strength to keep such troublemakers in check. That was the tragic reality—and the constant headache—for the Guardian Chief.
“History already proved the sun outshines the wind. Putting a Cheonrok descendant at the forefront could be just the thing.”
Cheonrok’s aura didn’t just affect humans—it inspired instinctive goodwill in all beings. No one could be better suited to disarm quarrelsome outsiders than a Cheonrok descendant.
“And you, in particular, seem to have inherited a strong natural charm. Your aura may be weak, but that only makes it easier to keep your identity under wraps. Hardly a flaw.”
The Chief looked at Jae-ha with satisfaction, as if he’d already mapped out his future without needing his consent.
“Of course, it wouldn’t work on Cheonrok himself. But that doesn’t matter—he never takes sides anyway. Besides, he’s missing. No one even knows where he is.”
That was… hardly reassuring.
**Note: In-gye = the human realm.Â
