Cloud had always been seen as someone narrowly fixated on work and research, too absorbed in his own pursuits to notice the world around him. But now, that very reputation was working in his favor. The lab approved his request without hesitation—even though his excuse was completely absurd: studying aquatic-type monsters that had somehow started appearing on land.
The sudden request had left South Korea scrambling, but Cloud’s reputation as a renowned Monsterologist, along with his wide-reaching connections, smoothed everything out. After wrapping up a final video call with his lawyer in the U.S. to iron out the contract, he booked a flight to Pyongyang without a second thought. The genetic testing kit, which had originally been central to his plans, was still tucked away in his bag, untouched.
For the past forty years, Cloud had thought about his older brother. And for twenty of those years, he had searched for him—pretending not to notice the worried glances from his family, who saw his obsession as something close to madness.
Even so, Cloud analyzed his own mind with cool detachment, like a clinician observing a stranger.
Cloud Carter—once named Kim Siwoon—had a miserable childhood. His mother ran away. His father was abusive. He nearly died after getting caught up in organized crime. Then he was adopted by a family who just wanted a trophy child—only to be discarded again. It was the kind of upbringing that could crush a child’s emotional core, both objectively and subjectively.
If it hadn’t been for the genuine love of the family who later took him in, he would’ve grown into a broken man.
Thanks to their unwavering support, Cloud became someone respectable. Even so, there was always an emptiness inside him—one that no amount of love could fill. That emptiness had a name: Hyung.
Cloud dissected that hollow feeling like he did every problem. His older brother wasn’t just a person; he was the symbol of a ruined childhood, the emotional starting point of his life. His desire to find him, Cloud reasoned, must stem from a need to reconcile with the past—to prove that he had made it despite everything.
His brother had been the only one to call him by name, the only one who had ever shown him love. If he could find him now, show him the kind of man he’d become—someone strong, successful, and whole—then maybe his life would finally feel worth something. Maybe that void even the most unconditional love hadn’t been able to touch would finally close.
He’d spent decades repeating that theory to himself, refining it, believing it.
And all it took to shatter it… was a single blink.
“I think… I might’ve met him recently… your older brother…”
The tremble in Sister Hyoju Agnes’s voice, her disbelief echoing in every syllable, struck him like a bolt. All the cold, rational conclusions he’d ever come to were instantly wiped away.
The heart he’d barely acknowledged throughout his life now thundered in his chest. A heat surged from somewhere deep inside him, fierce and unfamiliar. The storm tearing through his soul made his hands shake uncontrollably, made it impossible to catch a full breath.
And at last, Cloud understood the true name of that emptiness inside him.
It wasn’t obsession. It wasn’t guilt.
It was longing.
That morning, the guest quarters were unusually lively. Gwak Yoonsang and a few staff members from the Paranormal Phenomena Response Agency had gone to Sunan Airport to welcome Cloud Carter.
“Have you ever met this Cloud Carter guy in person?”
“Nope,” Tae Woon replied, voice as innocent and unbothered as ever.
“But I’ve heard some stuff. He’s pretty famous as a Monsterologist, but more than that—he’s Korean-American. Whether he was adopted or immigrated, anytime a Korean makes it big overseas, the media here goes nuts with national pride. Even though he’s never once claimed his Korean heritage in interviews or articles.”
“So he’s got a pretty firm grip on his identity, huh?”
“Oh, for sure. There was this one time a reporter asked what his Korean name was, and he just said, ‘I’m American.’ Dead serious.”
Tae Woon had heard before that second-generation immigrants—or kids who moved abroad young—often struggled with identity. Sometimes they weren’t sure whether they were Korean or not. Maybe it was healthier to establish that boundary early on. Then again, maybe his memories of Korea weren’t exactly the fond kind.
That thought lingered in Kim Sibaek’s mind for a moment—until he realized how presumptuous it was and promptly shook it off. Cloud’s identity wasn’t the important part here.
“How did he end up adopted, anyway?”
“He never said publicly, but I remember reading an old article a reporter had put together…”
Tae Woon frowned, trying to recall the details.
“No one knows who his birth family was. Apparently, he was adopted overseas through some broker—an illegal process.”
As Tae Woon kept talking, a chilling sense of déjà vu washed over Kim Sibaek. A child adopted by a Chinese man for appearances. Later abandoned. Then taken in by a new family. That same child growing up to become a world-renowned scholar.
It hit him like a thunderclap.
He’d dreamed this before.
A dream he’d always assumed was just his imagination. But the life he’d invented for that younger brother—the one in his dream—was identical to the real-life story of Dr. Cloud Carter.
He was too stunned to speak, lips frozen in awe. Dreams reflect reality, sure—but they’re not reality itself. So how could a made-up person from his imagination match the life of someone real, down to the details?
Kim Sibaek rubbed his goosebump-covered arms and slowly opened his mouth.
“Woon-ah… this might sound weird, but… do you know if Dr. Carter has autism?”
As a kid, he’d never realized it. But later, after doing some research, he’d come to suspect that his younger brother’s unusual behavior—his delays—had been signs of autism. He’d been too ignorant back then to care for him properly, and that failure had become one more layer of guilt weighing on him.
His question came from a place of deep unease—but Tae Woon’s answer was almost disinterested.
“Who knows? I only read a few articles back in the day.”
“…I see.”
As Kim Sibaek stood there pale and silent, Tae Woon looked down at him. Those pale, tri-colored eyes—cold and unreadable just a second ago—softened when their gazes met, curving gently into a faint, serene smile.
“Is what happened with Dr. Carter a common thing with adoptions?”
“There were a lot of overseas adoptions back then… Getting adopted once and then disowned, only to be adopted again—it’s not something you see every day, but it’s not unheard of either. It happens more often than you’d think.”
Kim Sibaek nodded slowly, his thoughts drifting.
In Mak Slechth, orphans weren’t raised by their nation or by blood, but by the nearest temple, regardless of their Cult. The Cult took precedence over borders and governments. So even if a child was sent to another country and found a new family there, no one would’ve called it “international adoption.”
Which meant—at some point, whether decades ago or after he’d returned—he had heard about cases like this. Maybe even about Cloud Carter himself.
The memories weren’t clear, but it made sense. A forgotten story, buried deep in his subconscious. His own hopes—that his younger brother, once so delayed and fragile, would grow up brilliant and successful—had filled in the rest. It became a dream. And that dream just happened to match reality a little too well.
That would explain it. That eerie overlap between his imagination and real life wasn’t divine fate—it was a half-buried memory paired with wishful thinking.
With his thoughts gathered and his mind settled, he could look at the situation more objectively again. The dream didn’t matter.
“What do you think—could he be connected to Edokers?”
“Hard to say,” Tae Woon replied. “But the whole ‘mad scientist’ thing is kind of a cliché, right? The guy’s so deep into monster research, people say he’s obsessed. And if anyone really knows monsters inside and out, wouldn’t it be those… what are they called, Paladins of Chaos?”
He wasn’t wrong. Even in Mak Slechth, there were many reasons someone might align with the Paladins of Chaos—ambition, greed, or simply the pursuit of forbidden knowledge.
“Well, we can figure that out after Carter arrives. Let’s keep an eye on him first.”
Tae Woon lightened the mood with a shrug.
“Oh, and Eunho’s still digging into Gu Yeongmin. He says it’ll take a few more days.”
Lord Biendeoé, who had been lounging at the table popping cherries into her mouth, perked up. If Gu Yeongmin were clean, the investigation wouldn’t need more time. Just as Kim Sibaek opened his mouth to ask what kind of problems had come up—
Knock knock.
A polite knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice.
“This is Gwak Yoonsang. Hunter Kim Sibaek, are you here too? If you’re not busy, may I speak with you for a moment?”
“Yes, come in.”
The door opened the moment he answered. Gwak Yoonsang stepped inside, his expression slightly awkward. Standing just behind him, mostly obscured from view, was a tall man.
As Kim Sibaek rose from his chair, Gwak Yoonsang motioned for the man to enter.
“Apologies for the sudden visit. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
At Gwak’s gesture, the man stepped forward into the room. He was tall, middle-aged, and didn’t bother with a greeting—just stared straight at Kim Sibaek.
One look at the man’s face, and it was like a switch flipped in his brain. Memories of his father—ones he hadn’t thought about in years—rose violently to the surface.
Kim Sibaek had seen this man before.
In a dream.
This was him.
