The members of the Night Rat guild, who were thought to have disbanded and scattered with the news of their dissolution, had instead gathered at the old shop Gyeongjin used before he joined the guild, back when he worked as an information broker.

The shop had been closed for a long time and was never put up for sale, bearing all the marks of a place untouched by human hands for years, but no one cared about that now. After reaching their destination and getting off Geon-joo, Sa-yoon swallowed the blood that was rising in his throat and wiped his mouth. His head was a mess of noise. Whether it was because his mental fortitude had been shaken or because of the propensity conflict, his physical condition was rapidly deteriorating.

Sa-yoon scanned the faces of those present. Just as Yen had boasted, a significant number of guild members had remained. It was safe to say that nine out of ten had stayed.

“I told you all to scram. You’re terrible at listening.”

He chided them for their foolishness, but the guild members shouted back, “How could we leave you behind, hyung-nim?” They weren’t such sentimental types when he had first recruited or dragged them in; it seemed the passage of time had a way of softening people.

“Why should you be the only one to pay for our sins? We’ll pay for them with you!”

“We’ll help you!”

“Ah, to hell with it. Let’s just go beat all those protestors in front of the Association to death—”

“You, shut your mouth, you bastard!”

The gloomy atmosphere inside the shop instantly became boisterous. The guild members argued amongst themselves, grabbed each other by the throat, and even threw a few punches before Yen kicked a chair with a loud bang, silencing them.

“So, what’s the plan now?”

It was the most rational question to be asked among a group of madmen. Sa-yoon joined the executives, who were huddled together, and crossed one leg over the other. The tapping toe of his shoe was aimed at Geon-joo.

“I don’t know. What is the plan now?”

The original plan had been to act as a punching bag at the press conference, earn some public sympathy—‘Sa-yoon must be trying to repent if he’s enduring all that’—and then pretend to be under the Association’s surveillance until the rumors died down, before slipping away at the right moment. The real plan was to prepare for the war from the shadows while being officially considered “missing.” But Han Geon-joo had shown up and kidnapped him, shattering the entire framework of that plan.

The one who made the mess should be the one to offer a solution. He stared expectantly at Geon-joo, who took a towel from a guild member, dried his wet hair, then got another dry towel and approached Sa-yoon.

“We’re going to play.”

“…What?”

“Why are you so surprised? I said it in front of you. They’ll realize your value once they’ve lost you. My plan is to play around until people start looking for you again, until they feel how precious you are. You’ve been running nonstop, with barely a day or two of rest. You need a vacation. Besides, with Night Rat and Swallow either disbanded or on the verge of it, you don’t have any work for a while, right? And now that you’ve left Noah, that’s even more true. Let’s take this chance to get some real rest.”

Rub, rub, rub.

He finished drying Sa-yoon’s hair and shoulders with the towel and then casually pulled up a chair to sit beside him. When Sa-yoon gave him a look that said, Are you serious?, Geon-joo just blinked as if to ask what the problem was.

Play? When we don’t even know when the war will start?

He agreed with the part about pretending to go into hiding, but he couldn’t actually just play around. It was the kind of idea only a child would come up with. He was about to shake his head when someone else spoke.

“That sounds fine.”

It was Lee Jaehee, who had been sitting quietly to one side, stroking Rai.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Jaehee, you too?”

“I think it’s a good idea. We all need a break sometimes. In a chaotic situation like this, sometimes no response is the best response.”

As he replied, he patted the Fenrir’s rear. With a soft woof, the Fenrir leaped lightly from the ground and settled onto Sa-yoon’s lap. The beast, now so large it was almost too big to hold, wagged its tail happily. The soft fur of its tail repeatedly brushed against Geon-joo’s face, making him frown.

“Stop that and get down.”

Woof!

“…Can you please tell it to get down?”

Knowing the wolf would never listen to him, Geon-joo muttered with a sigh. Sa-yoon looked at Rai’s majestic face, which seemed to be demanding pets, let out a soft laugh, and gently squeezed his snout before letting go.

“Get down.”

Only then did the coddled Fenrir hop off and curl up at Sa-yoon’s feet. At that moment, he heard Jaehee’s whisper.

‘Besides, you’re not in good shape right now, are you, Sa-yoon-ssi?’

“……!”

The voice, surprisingly, hadn’t come from Jaehee’s direction.

Or rather, could he even say he’d heard it? To be precise, the words had been transmitted directly into his mind, like the telepathic messages from a wuxia novel. The medium had been the Fenrir at his feet. Sa-yoon’s eyes widened in shock. He looked back and forth between Rai and Jaehee and clicked his tongue. He had wondered why he’d sent the summon over; it must have been to deliver this message.

Time was fair, and everyone had room to grow, but he had never expected Jaehee, who was already a top-class summoner, to develop even further. A summoner who could imbue their summon with their own will and use it to transmit thoughts was not just exceedingly rare; there had never been a single case of it. This meant Jaehee was the first.

Those System bastards are something else.

They had certainly gathered a remarkable group of people to participate in this war. Sa-yoon swallowed the blood that was lingering in his mouth.

Jaehee was right; he wasn’t in good shape. To be honest, he was in a state where even entering an SS-Rank Gate would be a struggle. It might be a wiser choice to take this time to recuperate, recover his strength, and prepare for what was to come. As he mulled it over, his gaze shifted to his executives, who had been quietly discussing cleaning the place. The four of them turned to him. Yen narrowed his eyes.

“Why are you looking at us like that? Do what you want. That’s why we’re all here.”

“When have we ever not done what you wanted, hyung-nim? Why are you being so hesitant?”

“Please do as you feel comfortable, hyung-nim.”

“I have nowhere else to go but by your side! Just do what you want!”

He hadn’t said a word, but somehow they had read his mind, and their responses were all favorable. It seemed the old saying was true: even a dog at a village school learns to recite poetry after three years. Sa-yoon stroked Rai’s fluffy fur once, then turned to Geon-joo. To finalize his decision, he looked at Jaehee and spoke.

“What’s the progress percentage?”

With so many eyes on them, he had to omit the subject. As a result, the guild members looked puzzled, while the only two who understood the meaning of his words wore slightly grave expressions. Han Geon-joo, looking anxious, reached out a hand. Sa-yoon took it. Jaehee, rubbing his tired eyes, answered in a somewhat subdued voice.

“It’s at about 68 percent.”

“It’s gone up a lot.”

It was a steep enough rise to make even Han Geon-joo flinch in surprise.

No wonder my body has been in such excruciating pain these past few days.

He thought of the progress percentage, which would likely break 70 percent in a few days, and closed his eyes. He wasn’t without his suspicions as to why the progression was speeding up. The way his condition worsened every time he used his abilities was proof enough.

When the progress reaches 100 percent, he would become an Unknown. Normally, becoming an Unknown was something that happened after death. In other words, the closer the error progression got to 100 percent, the closer he was to death. His body was literally dying. The more he used his powers, the more he pushed himself, the faster it happened.

It was an undeniable reality that, at this rate, he might have a funeral before the war even began. In that case, taking Geon-joo’s advice and resting might be the best option. Sa-yoon let out a breath that smelled of blood, his decision made. He opened his eyes. Dozens of guild members were looking at him, waiting for his answer.

Faces awaiting a new order.

Eyes hoping he would show them the way.

Meeting their gazes, Sa-yoon shrugged.

“I guess we should rest.”

“Hah…”

At the simple command, Geon-joo let out a sigh of relief. The guild members’ faces lit up, and the executives looked as if a great weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Yen tapped his phone a few times and stood up.

“Then let’s not stay in this dusty hovel. Let’s move to a better place. I’ve had a villa cleared out.”

With all the buildings and land under Night Rat’s name disposed of, they had no choice but to rely on Yen, the Hermit. Gyeongjin grumbled once about his own shop, but the moment he heard the square footage of the villa, he shot to his feet. Every time he saw him, he was struck by how materially honest the man’s body and mind were.

Muttering that such a trait had to be innate, Sa-yoon snorted at Geon-joo, who was holding out a hand as if to help him up.

“Sorry, but I’m not so weak that I need someone’s help to stand.”

“Can’t you just take my hand?”

“No.”

“So stubborn for no reason.”

“The rain that just fell wasn’t enough to cool that temper of yours.”

He had let it slide earlier because he was out of it, but after letting him get away with it once or twice, he was starting to get bold. It occurred to him that it had been a while since he’d last thrown him in the water. At his warning, the man sighed and said, Fine, let’s just go, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. Following him, Sa-yoon took his place at the very end of the Night Rat procession, which was beginning to move out discreetly.

A feeling that was hard to describe seeped into him like rainwater. He had just come from meeting countless people who wished for his death, and now he was standing before dozens who were willing to devote themselves to him. It was impossible not to feel a sense of ambivalence. It truly was the other side of the same coin. The world turned on such dualities.

Emotions, people.

Life itself.

At that realization, Sa-yoon shook off the habitual depression that clung to him like a parasite and took a step forward.

Kreeeak.

The old shop door closed.

It was the first day that Sa-yoon disappeared from the world above the water.