The quest is… complete?
As if he couldn’t see, his hand reached out, fumbling, and passed through the translucent quest window. His hand slipped through empty air, but the blue screen didn’t vanish. It wasn’t a hallucination.
Why now?
Sa-yoon forced his muddled mind into focus, his hazy eyes trying to retrace his memories. The second quest had been to clear an A-Rank or higher Gate with Han Geon-joo, and they had conquered Adelia’s Tomb together a month ago. When nothing had happened for so long, he’d figured it was just another system error—typical—and had moved on.
A part of him may have even hoped it would never appear. His thoughts had been a tangled mess.
He had been struggling to figure out what to do after activating ‘The Resistor,’ and had only recently found a direction. Now, another difficult problem had been thrown at him.
And what a problem it was.
‘Failure Penalty: ‘Resistor’ disposition will be deleted.’
An exceedingly difficult problem.
“Hyungnim, what’s wrong?”
With Sa-yoon having defeated the enemy leader, the once-fierce battlefield had fallen deathly silent. It was Gyeongjin who broke that silence, approaching and grabbing Sa-yoon’s shoulder when the man who should have been declaring their victory just stood there, staring blankly. Sa-yoon didn’t even flinch. His eyes were fixed on the blue notification window. He searched for one man. Han Geon-joo. He, too, was staring at a quest window floating in the air.
Sa-yoon couldn’t read its contents, but since Geon-joo had been undertaking the same quest line, it was likely identical to his own.
He tore his gaze away, raised a hand, and manipulated the system window to check his quest log. Under completed quests, he pressed the entry for ‘Second Step for Activation,’ and the details of the previous quest appeared. A sentence he had ignored before now stood out.
‘Prove your friendly relations.’
Was that it?
The realization was immediately followed by a question. If the main objective wasn’t clearing the Gate, but establishing a friendly relationship with Han Geon-joo, then why did the notification only appear now?
Were we not on friendly terms in Adelia’s Tomb?
That couldn’t be right.
He had entered Adelia’s Tomb to save him, and Geon-joo had supported him in clearing the Gate. There was no hostility between them, not by any measure.
Following this train of thought, he looked at Geon-joo. The Dragon Body’s duration had ended, and Sa-yoon’s eyes, now returning to their natural black, took in the man who, unlike himself, didn’t look confused, only deep in thought. Sa-yoon scowled and ran a hand through his hair. The situation was so unexpected that his thoughts were a mess, but there was one thing he knew he had to ask.
“Han Geon-joo.”
“Yes.”
“Did you get it too?”
“Yes.”
The sentence lacked a subject, but communication was perfect. It was proof that he was seeing the same thing. Sa-yoon had expected as much, but the confirmation only made him more confused.
And for good reason. The new quest required them to clear the ‘The True Evil of Humanity?’ Gate.
“The ‘The True Evil of Humanity?’ Gate. Wasn’t that part of your quest?”
Geon-joo had wanted to understand him, had accepted the System’s offer, and had received that very Gate as part of his quest reward. According to what he’d told him, that Gate was supposed to be generated only after he completed his quest. So why was it being given as his reward?
It didn’t add up. Then, a sudden thought flashed through his mind.
Don’t tell me.
Sa-yoon’s eyes sharpened. His hand shot out and snatched Geon-joo by the collar. He yanked the man toward him until their eyes met, and then he ground his teeth.
“The Gate you said you entered with Lee Jaehee. Was it this one?”
“…?”
His questioning eyes seemed genuine. But Sa-yoon couldn’t so easily dismiss his suspicion. How many times had he been deceived by this man?
He had already found it strange that Geon-joo had unlocked an L-Rank skill just by clearing a single Gate. But what if that Gate had been ‘The True Evil of Humanity?’? What if the Shadow Lord skill had been the reward for clearing it?
Viewed that way, the pieces started to fit. If it was a quest the System had given Geon-joo with a direct link to him, the reward wouldn’t have been something trivial.
If his guess was correct, it meant Han Geon-joo had lied to him again.
Rage boiled in his gut. He couldn’t tell if he was angry at the thought that Geon-joo might have lied, or at this damned ‘The True Evil of Humanity?’ Gate.
If you did enter it, what did you see inside?
The question was stuck on the tip of his tongue. Instead, his grip on Geon-joo’s collar tightened. Even as he clutched the fabric hard enough to tear it, Han Geon-joo showed no reaction, which, in Sa-yoon’s eyes, looked like the composure of someone who held all the information. He gritted his teeth. The suffocating silence stretched for what felt like ten minutes before the other man finally spoke.
“It wasn’t me.”
His denial was calm.
“You know it wasn’t. Your own employees saw me come out of that other Gate, so why are you suspicious? And the tracker—you told me you put one on me, didn’t you?”
Sa-yoon couldn’t bring himself to say that he’d put the tracker on his mask, not his body, so it couldn’t be fully trusted. He narrowed his eyes, studying the subtle movements of Geon-joo’s facial muscles, and lowered his voice.
“So it wasn’t.”
“No.”
“…Then why was this Gate passed on to me?”
“Because it’s true that I cleared my quest.”
“What?”
He’d acted as if he knew nothing, yet his conclusion was completely different. A vein throbbed in Sa-yoon’s forehead. His grip on the collar grew rougher. Gyeongjin rushed over and grabbed his hand.
“If you’re going to fight, could you please pick a time and a place? Please!”
His rebuke—that he shouldn’t be making a scene in front of their enemies—was reasonable. But Sa-yoon was in no state to accept reasonable rebukes. He shot Gyeongjin a glare, and the man swallowed hard before backing away. Yen took his place, slinging an arm around Sa-yoon’s shoulders and cheerfully suggesting they handle things one step at a time. Sa-yoon shot him an irritated look and scanned their surroundings. The surviving Scorpion members were watching him warily.
A bunch of useless bastards.
He was already feeling unsettled by how much weaker Scorpion had turned out to be compared to his expectations, compared to the enemy he had built up in his mind. Finding nothing about the situation to his liking, Sa-yoon ordered Yen and Gyeongjin to clean up and dragged Geon-joo onto Rai’s back. A jerk of his chin was all it took for Lee Jaehee to send Rai on his way.
No words were exchanged as they crossed the city on the Fenrir’s back. The silence felt strangely familiar to Sa-yoon.
It was quite similar to the time in the field, when Geon-joo had asked him questions and he had ignored them.
Shit, it’s a damn treadmill.
Just when he thinks he’s broken free, the same old situations keep repeating themselves. In the past, he had dealt with it by ignoring it, but now he thought he knew whose problem it really was. Sa-yoon gripped Rai’s fur tightly. A short while later, they arrived at their lodgings. He threw the door open with unnecessary force, left the barking Rai outside, and hauled his captive inside, moving him toward the bed. He wanted to just throw him, but as much as Geon-joo knew him, Sa-yoon also knew Han Geon-joo. If he acted any rougher, Geon-joo would just criticize his attitude and the conversation would get sidetracked.
“Talk.”
He sat him on the bed, then dragged a sofa over to sit opposite him. The sudden quest completion, the reward being a Gate with that particular name, and the warning that his ‘Resistor’ disposition would be permanently deleted if he failed—none of it could be unrelated to Han Geon-joo.
“Why are you being so aggressive? Should I thank you for not throwing me on the bed?”
“Han Geon-joo.”
“…”
“Do I look like I’m in the mood for games?”
His cold voice chilled the superheated atmosphere. He had no patience for nonsense. After the warning, he fell silent. Geon-joo, who had been glancing to the side as if in thought, clasped his hands together and leaned forward.
“I acquired a new disposition. But it wasn’t a reward I obtained through a normal route, so you won’t be able to see it. You have that skill that lets you see things, hyung.”
He was talking about [Eye of the Genius]. Sa-yoon nodded. When he had checked Geon-joo’s status window after he’d returned with the Shadow Lord skill, the only disposition listed was still ‘Heaven and Earth, I Alone am the Honored One.’
“So?”
“Aren’t you curious what my new disposition is?”
“Do I need to know?”
“I think you do. From what I can tell, it seems to be related to you.”
His tone was confident. As Sa-yoon’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, the man paused—whether in hesitation or to wait for the right moment, he couldn’t tell—before finally speaking.
“It’s ‘Supporter.’ My new disposition. It activated in the Swamp of Specters.”
“…You finished your quest in there?”
“It wasn’t the normal route, but yes, it said I finished it.”
“Explain in detail.”
His irritation made his words come out clipped and harsh. Yet the man before him maintained a placid expression, as if he were used to it, and spoke in his usual, calm tone.
“It activated when I thought, ‘I want to help hyung.’ It came with a notification saying I had met the conditions and the quest was completed early. So the rewards were adjusted, and I only received the disposition first. It said I would have to clear the Gate to get the real reward, and I think this is that Gate.”
Tap, tap. His long, straight finger pointed at the quest window floating in the air. Sa-yoon was silent, a tangle of things he wanted to say, needed to say, and wanted to ask, unsure which to voice first. The man took in his expression, unlaced his fingers, then clasped them again before continuing.
“From what I can see, it seems like the System is trying to connect us one way or another. When it told you to find a disposition holder, and when the System spoke to me directly. It wouldn’t do something like that just because it was bored. So I thought the System wanted me to take on a certain role. And I think that role is this new disposition.”
The words flowed out as calmly as a radio broadcast, but they threw Sa-yoon’s mind into complete disarray.
“The Resistor.”
At those words, Sa-yoon, who had been perfectly still, flinched. Geon-joo watched him carefully and rose from his seat.
“Do you think that disposition just appeared for no reason? Do you think it’s a coincidence that I got a ‘Supporter’ disposition? I think we’re bound to be connected, one way or another. I don’t know why, but the System that gave you ‘The Resistor’ and me ‘Supporter’ seems to want us to be together. So…”
He drew out the last word as he came to a stop in front of Sa-yoon. He looked down at Sa-yoon, who was sitting on the sofa. Then he slowly knelt. The angle of their gazes, which had been looking up at him, gradually lowered to become level, and then shifted to looking up from below. Though Sa-yoon had moved him to a comfortable spot, he had chosen to sit on the floor. He took Sa-yoon’s blood-stained hand, which had been resting on the sofa.
“If it benefits you, then use me. I’ll let you use me.”
“…”
“Don’t hesitate to enter the Gate because of pointless thoughts, and don’t bother weighing your options. I’m telling you to obtain that disposition, even if it means using me. There’s no need to be suspicious. Because this is the role I wanted to get.”
He squeezed Sa-yoon’s hand as he added the last part. The storm of passionate emotions had subsided as if swept away by a tidal wave, leaving behind only a confusion that was hard to define. Sa-yoon looked at the man urging him on and asked.
“Why are you going this far?”
At his voice, which held a faint, chiding tone, as if calling him foolish, Han Geon-joo let out a small laugh.
“I told you, didn’t I? I want to save you, hyung. If ‘The Resistor’ disposition will help my plan, then I will gladly help you obtain it. And.”
And?
Sa-yoon tilted his head. Geon-joo hummed for a moment, then gave a slight, enigmatic smile.
“It just feels like this is what I’m supposed to do.”
It was a strange answer.
For a moment, someone else’s face seemed to flicker over his smiling one. Whether it was an aftereffect of the battle or not, a sharp ringing filled his ears, and a headache pulsed through his skull. He closed his eyes.
<Time until creation of Special Gate ‘The True Evil of Humanity?’: 22 hours, 38 minutes, 42 seconds>
The words from the system window remained etched behind his closed eyelids for a long time.