To summarize the System’s long-winded explanation, it was simple.
“So, what you’re saying is the Chief Gods are pulling some bullshit?”
<To be precise, the Chief Gods twisted the flow of time inside the Fated Tower versus the time outside! Normally, time inside the Tower passes more slowly than outside, but they fast-forwarded the external time.>
“Right. So they pulled some fucking bullshit.”¹
<Since they meddled with the Tower’s system, which was under our jurisdiction, we are in the process of protesting, but the verdict from the trial will be delayed. If we get a result, it will be in our favor, but until then, we may be at a disadvantage.>
The System quickly displayed another window.
<We will use this incident as leverage to delay the progression of the apocalypse as much as possible. I’m sorry we can’t offer any other help. Instead, once the trial is over, we should be able to intervene a little more on your behalf.>
Though it was just text in a notification window, Sa-yoon could almost hear the dejected voice of the God of Wisdom. He roughly raked a hand through his hair. What could he do? The Chief Gods had decided to do whatever the fuck they wanted and had caused a mess. Yelling at an employee for not stopping the CEO’s screw-up was a pointless endeavor.
“Still, incompetent is incompetent.”
<(╥﹏╥)>
Ignoring the crying emoticon, he straightened his posture. Getting angry and throwing a fit wouldn’t change what had already happened. In the end, it was something he had to adapt to. He decided to start by figuring out the unfamiliar guild member in front of him.
“Who are you, and why are you standing in front of my guild?”
“You don’t remember me, sir?”
“…?”
The man looked inexplicably hurt, causing Sa-yoon’s eyebrow to rise. Han Geon-joo shot him a suspicious glance, his eyes seeming to ask if this was someone he’d been hiding. Sa-yoon used his Genius’s Eye.
<Status Window of Gu Chang-in>
A lightbulb went on in his head as the name instantly appeared.
“You’re that talent from Chun-bok’s place, aren’t you?”
He was one of the guys he’d picked up from the Dragon-Tiger Guild. He had vaguely handed him over to Jongsik and then completely forgotten about him, but in the time he’d been gone, the man had grown quite sturdy. The man, who had been repeating Sa-yoon’s words with a dumbfounded expression, introduced himself.
“…I am Gu Chang-in.”
Geon-joo, who had been watching the bowing man with suspicion, grabbed Sa-yoon’s arm, pulled him closer, and rested his chin on his shoulder. Ignoring Sa-yoon’s look, Geon-joo gestured with his eyes at Chang-in, then buried his head against Sa-yoon’s shoulder.
“I don’t like him.”
A voice, so small it was ticklish, reached his ear. What don’t you like about him? he asked with his eyes. A mumble came back. Just everything. Sa-yoon let out a hollow laugh and pried Geon-joo’s head off him.
“How can you not like him when you’ve barely seen him? Stop your nonsense and get out of the way. I need to get into the guild.”
He gently grabbed a handful of the pouting Geon-joo’s hair and pushed him aside before stepping into the guild. “Who pushes their boyfriend by the hair like that?” Geon-joo grumbled as he followed closely behind. Chang-in scurried over to guide Sa-yoon.
It’s my own house, why do I need a guide?
Sa-yoon was about to wave him away when he paused. The inside of the guild was as quiet as a tomb, even though it wasn’t empty. From the moment he had stepped into the building, he’d felt everyone’s eyes on him, but the silence was so strange that he glanced around. He was met with a sea of wide, staring eyes.
Tuduk.
“Hyung-nim?”
Someone who had dropped the papers they were holding whispered. That single word was the spark. One by one, other guild members dropped their own documents, their bodies flinching in shock. They should either speak or not, but they all just stood there, mouths agape like a bunch of mutes. Sa-yoon scowled.
“What’s wrong with you all? Seen a ghost?”
His chiding words echoed through the building.
“Heol.”
Someone’s exclamation became the starting pistol. The entire guild began to rush toward Sa-yoon.
“Hyung-nim!”
Fifteen people from the lobby shrieked and ran at him, their hands outstretched. Someone swept Sa-yoon up into a hug, while other guild members grabbed his legs, feet, and arms, as if to confirm he was real. Eventually, they started chanting that their Hyung-nim was back and began to toss him into the air.¹ Sa-yoon, finding the situation too absurd, let them have their moment before batting away their hands and ordering them to put him down. But the crazed lunatics, far from calming down, only cheered louder. He was finally forced to use his frost skill.
Jjeojeojeok.
A chill froze the ground, and the raucous movements came to a halt. The blinking guild members gently lowered Sa-yoon to the floor.
“It’s really Hyung-nim!”
Even with his hands freezing, one guild member stared down at his own frost-covered arms and muttered in awe, as if that were the most important thing. The stares they were giving him, like baby animals waiting for their mother to return, were incredibly burdensome. Sa-yoon took a step back with a fed-up expression.
Are these really the same guys I know?
Just in case, he checked the guild logo. The bat enveloped by a black serpent was, indeed, the symbol of the Night Rat Guild. Han Geon-joo, who had been watching, casually added a comment.
“Don’t those people seem even more like a cult than they did before?”
He had no rebuttal to the statement that they seemed like madmen. In fact, it looked like the guys who were already crazy had become even crazier.
And it seemed that wasn’t just limited to the regular guild members.
“Hyung-nim?”
“Hyung-nim!”
Udangtangtang! The sound of people violently descending the stairs, ignoring the elevator, was heard, followed by four different voices calling his name at the same time. One voice held suspicion, another joy, another sorrow, and another fury. Even if they had been mixed with a crowd, he would have recognized them.
They were old and familiar to him.
He turned toward the sound and saw the four executives of the Night Rat Guild staring blankly from the stairwell. As his gaze met theirs, they rushed over just as the other guild members had and grabbed him.
“Hyung-nim!”
Jongsik was the first to lift him up, holding him to the light to check for injuries or any changes. Gyeongjin came up beside them and used a skill to check Sa-yoon’s information. Chanhee, exclaiming that Gyeongjin had dropped his papers, ran over with the fallen documents in his arms and stared at Sa-yoon with bright, clear eyes. And Yen… Yen suddenly threw a dagger. Sa-yoon, who was still being held by Jongsik and was looking at the man with a pathetic expression, saw the incoming dagger and sighed.
He was about to knock the flat of the blade away with the back of his hand when Han Geon-joo sent the dagger flying back with a shadow.
“Are you out of your mind?”
Yen let out a sound of amusement at the sharp rebuke, which was laced with Geon-joo’s characteristic sensitivity. He had guessed as much from the lack of killing intent, but from the reaction, it seemed the dagger was not meant to harm.
“This one seems to be the real deal… so, this must be our real Hyung-nim, then?”
Sa-yoon tapped Jongsik’s arm, signaling him to put him down, as Yen tilted his head and looked up at him.
“Who else would I be?”
“You were gone for so long, I thought a rival guild might have sent a doppelgänger.”
“Your delusions have gotten worse.”
“And your absences have gotten longer?”
He answered with a shrug.
As Jongsik set him down, it was Gyeongjin’s turn to nag, his information scan apparently complete. His tense eyes were right in front of Sa-yoon’s face.
“Where the hell have you been?”
At the barked shout, Han Geon-joo scowled, but Sa-yoon didn’t reprimand him. If he had been gone for a whole year, it was obvious who had been in charge of everything.
If he’s worked overtime for a year, I guess he has a right to be angry.
“If you’re going to a Gate, you should at least say where you’re going! Or at least tell us how long you’ll be gone! You said a month, how did you end up gone for a year… keoheok!”
Gyeongjin, who had been spewing words without taking a breath, suddenly rolled his eyes back and collapsed. Yen caught him with practiced ease. Sa-yoon clicked his tongue as he watched Yen sling the man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“He seems to be in bad shape if he’s fainting like that.”
“He probably hasn’t slept properly in three months.”
“Good, you knocked him out. I told you to make him rest, even if you have to force him, when he overworks himself like that.”
A conversation that betrayed no sense of a year-long gap flowed between Yen and Sa-yoon. Chanhee watched them, then noticed the papers Gyeongjin had dropped, gently dusting them off and hugging them to his chest.
“You haven’t changed.”
Chanhee smiled in relief, and Jongsik nodded, a great weight seeming to lift from his shoulders. Sa-yoon faced the executives who were demanding an explanation and gestured toward the back of the guild with his chin.
“For now, let’s go inside and talk. Too many eyes here.”
No matter that it was his own guild, the story he was about to tell was not for an open lobby. As he said they needed to visit the meeting room for the first time in a while, Chanhee and Jongsik nodded and followed.
“Wow, holy shit. I still can’t believe it. Is this a dream or is this real?”
The guild members began to chatter excitedly, asking if their Hyung-nim was really back. Among them, someone had a realization. “If Hyung-nim’s back, doesn’t that mean we can’t shoot the breeze² anymore?” The festive atmosphere vanished, and a sudden silence fell. Another guild member picked up the thread, his voice trailing off. “Then, when we mess up our work…”
The faces of the guild members, who had just foreseen their future, hardened. And just like that, the commotion died down, and everyone returned to their posts. The only one left was Chang-in, who had been swept up in the chaos while trying to act as a guide.
“…”
He stared at Geon-joo, who was dusting off his clothes beside him. Geon-joo, feeling the gaze, stopped fixing his own disheveled clothes and hair and looked at Chang-in.
“What is it?”
“…Are you perhaps the one I fought at the Dragon-Tiger Guild back then?”
Geon-joo took a sharp breath at the careful question. It was not a memory he was fond of. Back then, he had been a B-Rank, and having only recently awakened, he had been hopelessly naive. The man remembering and asking about it was not a pleasant feeling. He suppressed a scowl and covered it with a smile.
“Yes.”
“Ah…”
“Why?”
He tilted his head slightly as he asked, and Chang-in’s gaze drifted over Geon-joo’s shoulder. Geon-joo followed his line of sight and saw Sa-yoon, letting out a small sigh. He had a rough idea of what the man was thinking. The hesitant look in Chang-in’s eyes only soured his already uncomfortable mood, and the smile on his lips widened.
“If it’s admiration, I’d stop there.”
“Pardon?”
“If you’re curious, you should ask the other guild members. I’m something of a celebrity in this guild.”
For various reasons.
With an added smile, Geon-joo turned and followed Sa-yoon. The scene that followed was of Han Geon-joo saying something to Sa-yoon with a sulky expression, and Sa-yoon giving him a flick on the forehead³ as if chiding him. As Chang-in watched the two with a strangely uncomfortable feeling, Jaehee bowed his head slightly as he passed him.
“You understand, don’t you? Everyone’s a little sensitive in the early stages of a relationship.”
Chang-in’s mouth fell shut at the advice. Jaehee rejoined Sa-yoon’s group, shaking his head and sighing.