As the guild members opened the reward chests in Sa-yoon’s stead, a steady stream of astonished cries filled the air.

“Holy shit. This is good enough that I’d be satisfied even if I’d lost an arm, for real!”

At the heartfelt praise, Sa-yoon—who had been carefully stashing the Past Life Incense and his other newly purchased items into his inventory—finally turned his gaze in their direction. From what he could overhear, the first-clear bonus had been added, resulting in a bounty so generous that three or four L-rank items had apparently dropped. Beyond that, everyone was thrilled with the rewards that had dropped for each member who challenged the Gate. It was all so cheerful that it inexplicably pissed him off.

Should I just go and take it from them now?

He was momentarily tempted, but as if sensing his thoughts, Lee Jae-hee approached and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Right now, there is a distinct need for all our forces to be strengthened, Sa-yoon-ssi. I trust you understand what that means.”

“Agh, I get it! I won’t take it, alright? I won’t take it.”

“That is a relief.”

“Aren’t you getting anything?” Sa-yoon jutted his chin toward the area bustling with guild members. Lee Jae-hee shook his head.

“It’s not as if my combat power will increase dramatically just because I receive a weapon or an item. The most rational choice is for them to have it. Especially for the four executives; the weapons they’ve obtained this time will drastically increase their strength, so it’s a mutually beneficial outcome.”

His calm, analytical tone made Sa-yoon look at him as if he were Zhuge Liang from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. If anyone’s suited for a title like ‘the purest good,’ wouldn’t it be Lee Jae-hee? Sa-yoon was mulling this over when a low groan from below made him look down.

Han Geon-joo was trembling.

“Han Geon-joo?”

He urgently gripped the man’s body and checked his pulse. Fast. It wasn’t a normal rhythm. Almost immediately, a cold sweat began to bead on Han Geon-joo’s forehead, and a flicker of panic entered Sa-yoon’s eyes.

“What the hell? Why is this happening? That bastard said he’d be fine!”

He scowled, recalling the serene face that had offered such placid reassurance. Don’t tell me I got screwed. He looked to Lee Jae-hee for an answer, but Lee Jae-hee, who had been quietly observing Geon-joo’s face from Sa-yoon’s side, was now looking around the Gate’s interior as it began to destabilize.

“It’s nothing serious. It just seems he is having a difficult time learning.”

“How difficult can it be that he’s pouring sweat? You don’t get it, this is a kid who never shows it, even when he’s in real pain. If he’s suffering like this while unconscious, it means something is wrong.”

“Well. In my opinion, the problem seems to be with you, Sa-yoon-ssi. But let’s discuss this outside. We’ll be expelled from the Room of Rewards shortly. You should prepare.”

What the hell? I’m pretty sure he just took a shot at me.

Sa-yoon threw a sidelong glance at the man who had so naturally rebuked him, then tore off the robe he was wearing. He meticulously wrapped it around Han Geon-joo’s head, then snatched Lee Jae-hee’s robe as well and used it to cover the rest of his body, bundling him up until he looked like a single piece of luggage before lifting him into his arms. He knew the press would be swarming outside, and he had zero intention of letting them see Han Geon-joo in such a disheveled state.

According to that bastard Gyeongjin, his face is already all over the place as the ‘masked man.’

Tsk. Why’d he have to take his mask off in the first place? I coddled him and protected him so he could live comfortably, and then he just had to go and break out of his shell all by himself. It’s baffling. Truly, nothing in this world ever goes the way you want.

Now that his face was known, Sa-yoon didn’t want him getting caught up in any more needless gossip. After one last, careful check to ensure no part of Geon-joo was exposed, Sa-yoon gathered the guild members. He ordered them all to pull their robes back up, but their condition was so wretched that he felt he’d summoned a mob of beggars, not a robed entourage.

“How is it that not a single one of you has a robe that’s intact?”

“Well, uh… considering how many bombs you were throwing, sir, it’d be weirder if we were intact.”

“You think I don’t know that, Jongsik?”

“Nope.”

Yoo Jongsik just laughed good-naturedly and rummaged through his inventory. “Should we put on some D-Rank robes, then?” he asked.

When Sa-yoon nodded, thirty D-Rank robes emerged from his inventory.

“Why do you have so many?”

“I’ve just been collecting the usable ones from the robes you always tell me to throw away…”

Oh, for…

Sa-yoon was dumbfounded, but since it was, in fact, a beneficial outcome, he couldn’t even reprimand him. He just massaged the stiff muscles in the back of his neck. This man had been by his side for so long, had heard him preach ‘live and die by style’ until his ears should have bled, yet his core nature remained so steadfastly frugal. Yoo Jongsik would probably still be meticulously penny-pinching ten years from now.

Just as most of the guild members finished changing, an alert window popped up, announcing their expulsion from the Room of Rewards. Sa-yoon faced the encroaching light and spoke.

“When we get out there, all of you keep your mouths shut. I’ll be the only one talking.”

In lieu of an answer, he received a wave of unified nods. The light swallowed them whole, and when they were spat back out into the world, the first thing that greeted them was the chaotic, deafening roar of camera shutters.

“They’re back!”

“What’s the clear time? How many hours?”

“Six hours and twenty-seven minutes!”

“Get the story up, now! ‘South Korea First to Successfully Clear an SSS-Rank Gate’!”

A cacophony of voices erupted, drowned out by the frantic, non-stop clicking of cameras. One reporter was yelling to skip his name and just post the results; another was instructing his team to lead with Sa-yoon’s name for maximum clickbait. Having them do this right in his face made his temper flare, and he was tempted to just level them all, but the man in his arms let out a pained sound.

Han Geon-joo’s poor condition was the only thing reining in his explosive temper.

“Kwon Sa-yoon-ssi! Can you tell us the reason for your sudden return?”

“Kwon Sa-yoon-ssi! You stated you had disbanded the Night Rats Guild, but aren’t these the members of Night Rats behind you?”

“Kwon Sa-yoon-ssi!”

It was absolute chaos. His name was being worn out. Sa-yoon let out a hollow breath and stared hard at the cameras being shoved in his face.

A sudden thought occurred to him.

I’m not with Noah anymore. I’ve already quit the ‘good guy’ cosplay. Is there any reason at all for me to be nice to these assholes who are acting like this?

The only reason Sa-yoon had ever bothered to suppress his nature was because he had been playing a part: the model Guild Leader of ‘Swallow,’ the upright and virtuous Awakened of ‘Noah.’ He had become the nation’s representative Awakened, so he had put on a “show” to match. It was a simple calculation—doing so reduced the number of annoyances and cut down on the Association President’s nagging.

But things were different now. He was no longer Noah, and the Association President was no longer Bae Min-cheol.

What, should I feel guilty as the head of a criminal guild? What the hell does that have to do with this situation?

I’ll pay for my sins, sure, but the ones to judge me aren’t these base-level reporters, who are only interested in their next story. I’d rather be pelted with eggs by my actual victims than be hit with flash photography. A smirk played on Sa-yoon’s lips as he used an applied skill of the Formless Dagger, snatching a microphone being thrust at him without lifting a hand.

“Don’t you worry, I intend to pay for my sins on my own terms. There will be two more SSS-Rank Gates opening, and I will be taking full responsibility for clearing them. I have a debt to pay for my crimes, so I have to save that many more people. I promise you, I will save everyone I can, and I will mobilize all the wealth and manpower I possess if necessary. But if you keep acting like this…”

Sa-yoon paused, his gaze sweeping over the pack of reporters, a swarm of hyenas waiting for a scrap. He looked past them, to the people further back holding up their phones, desperate to livestream the scene. He searched the crowd, and his lip curled when he noted the complete absence of any actual victims.

The very people with the right to curse him were nowhere to be seen. In their place were these… things, using “just punishment” as an excuse to vent their own low-grade jealousy and malice. He couldn’t say his past life was justified, but were these people—shoving microphones like weapons and cameras like tools of extortion—any more righteous?

If they were, their eyes wouldn’t be so full of ill will.

Malice. Ah, how familiar it was. It was impossible to mistake. Sa-yoon took a sharp breath, his cold eyes fixing on the microphone in his spectral grip. He knew exactly what these people feared most.

What, that I’d leave the country? A few of them were already rotten enough to argue that even if I did, I was a citizen and could just be “summoned” back, or that I should return “if I had a conscience.”

That I’d disappear? They’d just run their mouths about how I’d be back eventually, that I’d be a son of a bitch if I didn’t. My return this time had already shown them that I was someone who would come back.

This is why people never learn. They were shaking in their boots when I disappeared, so I came back to help, and now, without learning a single thing, they’re just back to their old bullshit. It would be one thing if the Association had at least posted guards, but he was furious to see they had vanished the moment his team entered the Gate, their job apparently done. This situation made it impossible to leave quietly, even if he’d wanted to.

Sa-yoon unhesitatingly released his frosty aura and spoke, his voice cutting through the noise.

“A guy tries to rehabilitate himself, and you all keep acting like such goddamn assholes. You really think I’m not going to snap? Straighten your shit out before I decide this fucking world isn’t worth living in and do something drastic.”

“……”

“Try thinking for a second about who’s in the desperate position here. Or what, you want me to go back to being a villain?”

In an instant, the crowd fell silent, their mouths hanging open. Their faces turned pale, a primal, instinctive fear blooming in response to his suffocating aura.

Sa-yoon let out a long-suffering sigh, looking at the people who were so loud when he was quiet, and so quiet now that he was speaking.

Just as the God of Wisdom said, the balance of this world is well and truly broken. It really feels like I’m standing at the bitter end of the apocalypse.

That grim, weary anger finally spilled out of him.

“Goddamn hypocritical bastards. If a man says he’s going to live a good life, you should at least give him a fucking chance. You want my help, but you can’t stand the sight of me. You need me to take the blame, but you also want me to save you forever, like your personal slave. Not even a slave contract works like this.”

The entire area grew frigid as he unleashed his unfiltered temper. Only then did a look of satisfaction cross Sa-yoon’s face. He turned, signaling to his guild members, and moved to swiftly exit the area.

The goddamn Association that pulled its guards can clean up this mess.

This sloppy judgment… it couldn’t have been Min-cheol’s call. Lee Han must have caved under pressure.

Lee Han, you and I will have a talk later.

Sa-yoon mentally chewed on the name, his grip on Geon-joo tightening. It was time to go home.