Fortunately, it didn’t take long to confirm that the Apostle of Death and Beauty had joined the 7777 Guild. Edokers had taken an enormous risk—one that could easily end in death if he were discovered—just to scout the guild. He needed intel. Whether it was to launch a surprise attack or exploit a moment of carelessness, he couldn’t kill him—or survive—without knowing something.
Most of the customers at this café were guild members. If he kept his ears open, even idle small talk sometimes dropped valuable nuggets. Like the fact that the Apostle of Death and Beauty was currently living with the Guildmaster. Or that their relationship seemed very intimate.
Kidnapping the Guildmaster might be a card worth playing. If only he had the power to make it happen.
…No. If I still had that kind of power, he would’ve sensed me the moment I stepped in here.
As just a fragment of what he once was, Edokers’s power was pitifully weak. On the bright side, his demonic energy didn’t flare up either, letting him slip among humans unnoticed.
Earth’s purification system for demonic energy wasn’t nearly as advanced as Mak Slechth’s. If he had tried to infiltrate that world bare-skinned like this, even his faint traces of demonic energy would’ve triggered detection, and he’d have been electrocuted by a magical auto-defense tool before he could blink. Recently, he’d learned the phrase “blessing in disguise” and clung to it like a mental life raft.
Still, his face hadn’t changed. If they ran into each other, the Apostle would recognize him instantly. So he kept his hat low, sunglasses tight, and mask firmly on, scanning the café with tension coiled in his muscles. The moment he spotted even a strand of his hair, he was ready to bolt.
Even at full power, the Apostle of Death and Beauty had been his nightmare—his walking terror. But he knew his one, absolute, inviolable weakness. A flaw he could never exploit back in Mak Slechth.
This world… this is his original world.
It had confused him at first—being dropped into such an unfamiliar place. But the longer he adapted, the more certain he became. This world was the Apostle’s home, the place he’d left behind when he crossed dimensions.
At first, he’d assumed he’d followed him here. But once he realized this was his home, the logic unraveled. Maybe he had been dragged along with the Apostle’s return. The timeline was unclear, but one thing was certain: as long as the Apostle existed, his survival and peace would evaporate like mist.
He had to die.
If the Apostle didn’t, he would.
His heart—a core now, gifted to Chaos in place of his real one—shuddered in his chest as he clutched it and took a steadying breath. The Apostle’s weakness could only be used here, in this world.
Sixty-eight years ago, even after becoming one of Chaos’s kin, Edokers didn’t reveal himself immediately. Driven by fear of death, he wandered the continent, waiting for the right moment. It was during that time he first encountered Kim Sibaek—before he became the Apostle of Death and Beauty, before he became known as a Paladin.
Kim Sibaek hadn’t been famous back then. Edokers hadn’t seen any need to kill him and stir up unnecessary trouble. But as a being born of fear, he had peered into Sibaek’s nightmares while the man slept in the next room.
“It’s alright. It’s all in the past.”
Edokers had scoffed, overhearing what sounded like a conversation between Kim Sibaek and a crowling—one of the Apostle’s incarnate forms. A soul once broken could never return to its unbroken state. If he was truly “okay now,” he wouldn’t still be dreaming nightmares.
Later, when Kim Sibaek became his nightmare—his own fear—Edokers bitterly regretted not killing him that day. But it was too late. The Apostle was surrounded by high-ranking priests and Paladin Gloiuken. His divine power was immense.
But now, that wasn’t the case.
He was alone. No Gloiuken. Not even a novice priest trailing behind. His divine power had withered into something weak and threadbare compared to the past. This was the moment. Now was his chance.
A barely perceptible flaw—so faint he likely didn’t even realize it himself. His one and only weakness: a piece of his soul that would never return.
For Edokers, that was more than enough.
Then, from nearby, he heard it—the Apostle’s name, spoken aloud, followed by a single word.
…Amusement park?
***
The quest was about what he expected: absurd.
He’d watched movies, followed convenience store recipes, and snapped photos of trendy cafés with over 100K Instagram followers—all just to complete past quests. His only real accomplishment? Biendeoé had liked the stool he made during a one-day class so much that it became her designated seat.
As for the system’s “goal,” maybe it was keeping him engaged with the outside world and constantly exposed to the daily lives of ordinary people. But what did that matter? It was pointless. What was the use in living someone else’s life when he had no place to return to?
Then—suddenly—a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. He turned reflexively, only to feel a fingertip poke his cheek. A mischievous laugh rang in his ear.
“What were you thinking about so hard that you didn’t even hear me calling you? Oh—were you staring at our photo? You’re way cuter in person than in the picture.”
“Well, that’s just stating the obvious.”
Kim Sibaek didn’t notice the guild members nearby discreetly backing away after overhearing that exchange.
“When did you get here?”
“Just now. I heard you were helping out with the kids’ training, so I came to watch.”
Ever since coming back from the field with the Second Strike Team, more and more people had been asking Kim Sibaek to critique their stances or help with their training.
With the rise of firearms and steel, most traditional martial arts had faded into obscurity, surviving only as sports like fencing or kendo. But after the Cataclysm, the world had changed.
Among Hunters, only those with traits related to firearms—like Yang Eunho—could truly make use of guns. When fighting monsters, manastone-forged weapons were far more effective. But just grabbing a sword and swinging it around didn’t make you a swordsman.
Most Hunters had trained in martial arts that survived into the modern day, like kendo or fencing, but many chose weapons beyond just swords. Scholars who researched forgotten martial arts found themselves in the spotlight, and some Hunters even developed their own styles through sheer grit and real-world combat.
Kim Sibaek had been selected for the national fencing team at a young age—proof of his natural talent—and had received formal, structured training. In Mak Slechth, he’d gone on to master not just swordsmanship but various forms of weaponry, even training Paladins himself. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say no one else was better qualified to teach.
Though he wasn’t officially mentoring anyone, even his offhand advice had a lasting impact. His words alone were enough to fill the training hall, and Yang Eunho was seriously considering creating an official instructor role just for him.
During breaks, Hunters would quietly approach, hoping to pick up even a crumb of wisdom while he rested on a bench near the entrance—but Tae Woon always chased them off before they got too close.
“No new quest today?”
Before Kim Sibaek could answer, text popped up in the air—almost like it was responding to Tae Woon directly.
[Even coming up with quest prompts is getting hard these days OTL Let’s go have some fun at an amusement park!]
[Quest 08]
[Ride at least two amusement park attractions (0/2)]
[Time limit: 72 hours 00 minutes]
The quest messages were getting lazier by the day. And seriously—was “OTL” even used like that? If the system was going to awkwardly force in an old-school emoticon, it might as well just leave it out.
Kim Sibaek read the quest slowly, then murmured, “Amusement park?”
“Amusement park? Wait, we actually have to go to one?”
“Within three days.”
“What the…”
Tae Woon muttered something under his breath. It sounded a lot like “what kind of bullshit is this,” but he must have misheard—his sweet boy didn’t curse.
“So, what exactly are we supposed to do at the amusement park?”
“Ride some stuff. Have fun.”
“I’ve never even been to one. What do you even do at a place like that?”
“Never been, either.”
It was kind of awkward, imagining themselves—full-grown adults—going somewhere meant for kids. But it was a quest, so there was no getting out of it. Just then, Pi Minhyung walked into the training hall and caught the tail end of the conversation.
“Huh? You two going on a date at an amusement park?”
“Something like that.”
Tae Woon nodded casually, as if it were nothing. He’d naturally joined in on every quest so far without needing an invite. But unlike them—who had never set foot in an amusement park before—Pi Minhyung, a seasoned dad, immediately saw the flaw in this particular “date.”
“You’re probably not gonna enjoy it much.”
Tae Woon raised an eyebrow. Kim Sibaek also gave him a curious look.
“Why not? Is there something wrong with amusement parks?”
“Not wrong exactly…”
Pi Minhyung scanned the two tall, lanky men from head to toe, clearly about to say something—then just smiled instead.
“You’ll see when you get there, hyung.”
For some reason, that smile reminded Kim Sibaek of when Pi Minhyung had tricked a young Tae Woon into falling into a sandbox trap. A wave of unease crept over him.
“Hey, hyung.”
“Yeah?”
“In three days… it’ll be exactly two weeks since I started my abstinence streak.”
“……”
Now he was really uneasy.
