Even if one chases belatedly, being a beat late is still late. Frowning as he realized it was nearly impossible to catch Han Geon-joo mid-air, Sa-yoon stretched out his hand.
If he couldn’t reach him in the air, he could still do so in the water. For all intents and purposes, once Han Geon-joo had leapt into the valley, his escape route was as good as blocked. Though he might evade capture momentarily, it would ultimately lead to his downfall. Surely the bastard knew this too, so why had he jumped? Sa-yoon couldn’t fathom it.
What if he falls onto the cliff?
Even for an A-rank, a bad fall could be fatal. I don’t understand what he’s thinking at all, Sa-yoon mused, casting a perplexed glance. As he fell, the man briefly turned to look at Sa-yoon and smiled.
He’s smiling?
“I knew you’d jump after me,” Han Geon-joo called out.
“What?”
“Though I didn’t expect you to be this fast…”
His voice trailed off as he suddenly twisted his body in mid-air, positioning himself to fall back-first. The fact that he could perform such a maneuver while plummeting was insane.
He’s definitely become an A-rank.
His movements were completely different from what Sa-yoon had observed at the gate. There was no time to check the status window, but Sa-yoon was certain of it and inwardly clicked his tongue.
So the current situation had arisen because, coincidentally, Han Geon-joo had risen to A-rank just as Sa-yoon’s own rank had dropped to A+. The timing was suspiciously perfect, as if he had been waiting for precisely this moment.
“And there’s something I didn’t tell you,” Han Geon-joo added.
Sa-yoon’s outstretched fingertips grazed Han Geon-joo’s foot. If he extended his arm just a bit more, he might be able to grab his ankle. As his fingers trembled with the effort, Han Geon-joo continued:
“I’m leaving the guild, Guild Master.”
“…What?”
“So next time, let’s meet as equals.”
Sa-yoon could only blink in response. Everything Han Geon-joo had said from earlier until now was suspicious, strange, and incomprehensible.
Why would he announce his guild resignation at this precise moment?
He’ll be caught anyway.
His escape is bound to fail…
Or is it?
Sa-yoon’s eyes widened.
Could he possibly have another card up his sleeve?
Without some sort of plan, there was no way he could be so nonchalant in this situation. The momentary lapse in vigilance caused by the sudden fall dissipated, and Sa-yoon’s senses snapped back to full alertness. Just then, Han Geon-joo spoke again, his voice low:
“It won’t do you any good.”
As the words left his mouth, a bright light appeared directly above the valley where he was about to fall. It was a familiar light.
“…A gate?”
“Your rank dropped, right?”
“…”
“Thanks to that, this works. Thank you.”
He said with a smirk. By now, he had fallen right in front of the bright light. As Sa-yoon’s eyes widened, Han Geon-joo’s body was sucked into the radiance. “See you again,” his words lingered like an afterimage.
Whoosh!
The intense light flashed, forcing Sa-yoon’s eyes shut. Despite being right behind him, the light took only Han Geon-joo and vanished.
Only Sa-yoon remained in the valley they had both jumped into.
Stunned by the unexpected turn of events that had unfolded so suddenly, Sa-yoon plunged into the valley in a daze, as if entranced.
There was only one splash instead of the two there should have been as he sank into the water. Sa-yoon allowed his body to sink endlessly, staring at the surface of the water growing distant above him. The recent events replayed in his mind. As he recollected his memories, his mouth gaped open.
Air bubbles rose as his eyes twitched convulsively.
How?
He had chased hundreds, even thousands of fleeing targets before, but never had anyone slipped through his grasp like this. How had Han Geon-joo acted so certain he could escape? How had he predicted he could slip away in that exact situation, how…
As he mulled it over, a thought flashed through Sa-yoon’s mind, causing his eyes to snap open.
This bastard.
His lips pressed together tightly. The anger that had been masked by confusion surged belatedly. Having expelled all his remaining breath, Sa-yoon pushed off the valley floor and burst out of the deep water. He swam to the shore in one breath and planted his feet on the ground. Coughing up the water he had swallowed, Sa-yoon swept back his wet hair and gulped in much-needed air.
Curses intermingled with his labored breathing.
The reason why someone of a lower rank than him had managed to escape perfectly in that situation.
The crucial clue was in Han Geon-joo’s words just before he disappeared into the light.
‘Your rank dropped, right?’
That statement was both the clue and the decisive hint. With murderous intent in his eyes, reddened from coughing, Sa-yoon looked up at the bridge where his car was still parked.
‘Survival Instinct (SS+)’.
It was Han Geon-joo’s exclusive skill that Sa-yoon had seen in his status window in the field. Even at a glance, it had seemed unfair, but experiencing it firsthand proved it to be an absurdly overpowered skill.
[Survival Instinct (SS+)]
Your sharp instincts will save you from danger!
-Suggests an escape route twice a day in crisis situations. Upon accepting the route, escape is guaranteed regardless of stats. (However, there is a chance of failure if the rank difference with the opponent is two or more levels.)
-When survival becomes difficult, agility increases by 100% for 1 minute. Afterwards, you fall into an exhausted state for 10 seconds.
-Muscles are strengthened when activated.
That was undoubtedly the content of the skill. Recalling the exact system text he had seen in the status window, Sa-yoon let out a hollow laugh amidst his feelings of futility and emptiness.
So that was it.
Just before jumping into the valley, Han Geon-joo’s eyes had darted around as if looking at something. Then he had dashed forward at a speed twice as fast as usual. All of that had been supported by the corrections provided by that cheating skill called Survival Instinct.
His life was threatened, so his agility increased, and because the system provided a route, he trusted it and jumped into the valley.
As a result, the system created what might have been a gate or a simple teleportation portal and snatched Han Geon-joo right before his eyes. Despite Sa-yoon being right there, it had precisely taken only Han Geon-joo, as if by prior arrangement.
In the end, he had been thoroughly backstabbed by the collaboration between the system and its darling.
Feeling utterly disgusted, Sa-yoon headed towards his car with his eyes downcast and his body soaked. Whether it was because the water had calmed him down or he had given up in resignation, he wasn’t sure. However, it was clear that even though he was angry, he lacked the energy to express that anger through violence. He opened the car door, leaned back against the seat, and covered his eyes with a grimace.
Just moments ago, his body had been moving so passionately, but now everything was eerily quiet. All that had just happened felt like a daydream. As he frowned, the system displayed an unwanted notification window.
<The system is measuring the distance between you and the Disposition holder! Contact is impossible within the time limit.>
<The system is confirming your final relationship with the Disposition holder!>
<‘Current relationship: ???’>
<The relationship with the Disposition holder cannot be confirmed! The quest is frozen!>
Furrowing his brow at the successive alert sounds, Sa-yoon looked ahead to see system windows repeatedly informing him that the quest with Han Geon-joo had failed. Too exhausted even to sigh, he simply grimaced and waved his hand to dismiss them. Then, as if for final confirmation, one more system window appeared, obscuring his vision.
<All quests for activation are temporarily frozen! Do your best (//~^)>
“…What’s this now?”
Another new emoticon. It seemed suspiciously cheerful like before, but this time it also seemed to have a hint of gloominess mixed in. As Sa-yoon glared at it, he received a call from Jongsik.
Exhaling heavily, as he could guess the content without answering, Sa-yoon turned off his phone. Needing time to think alone, he reclined the driver’s seat and lay back halfway, mulling over the system window that still remained because he hadn’t dismissed the popup.
It wasn’t a complete failure, but a temporary freeze.
It seemed to indicate that it could be restarted at any time, but it also felt like a ploy to instill false hope, as it always had been. Unable to know for sure, Sa-yoon glared at it for a long while before eventually covering his eyes with both hands in resignation.
“…Fucking hell, really.”
Nothing was going right.
Finding nothing to his liking, Sa-yoon rummaged through his inventory and lit an anesthetic incense in the car, which he could now use due to his lowered rank, before closing his eyes.
All the events that had transpired over what felt like a month but was actually three months flashed rapidly through his mind. He hadn’t been negligent. Even if his methods were wrong, it was clear that he had done his best. He had struggled and made efforts in his own way.
As he recalled Han Geon-joo’s final appearance, which was the result of all that, Sa-yoon let out a small sigh of lament.
It had all been meaningless.
The resistance, the effort.
Realizing that all the hope given to him was nothing more than the system’s machinations, Sa-yoon swallowed a sigh, finding it laughable that he hadn’t fully accepted this even after 10 years.
It was a quagmire.
A swamp where the more you struggle, the deeper you sink.
Frowning at the fact that he seemed to have forgotten this truth he had known seven years ago due to familiarity, Sa-yoon inhaled the anesthetic incense.