Chapter 555

He was built like an iron tower. His expression was as hard and unchanging as stone, his lips pressed tightly together.

And then… there were his eyes.

Bloodshot eyes filled with rage, grief, and emotions too tangled to name. Meeting his gaze alone was enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine.

Even the Prime Minister of Korea—a permanent member of the UN Security Council and one of the world’s great powers—was no exception.

What the hell is with that look…?

The gaze struck him like a blade the moment he entered the room. The Prime Minister flinched, then forced his pounding heart to settle.

The man before him might be one of Korea’s most formidable Hunters, but he himself had spent sixty years of life in the mud of politics. There was no reason to be intimidated before they had even begun to talk.

Especially not now.

Having recovered some of his composure, the Prime Minister held out his hand.

“Oh, there you are, Mr. Go Jun.”

Go Jun stared at the offered hand. Instead of shaking it, he answered in a dry voice.

“It’s been a while, Prime Minister Jang.”

That was no way to treat either a man considerably older than himself or the prime minister of his country. Wrinkles bunched across Prime Minister Jang’s forehead.

“…Ha. You must be grieving more deeply than I realized. I understand how you feel.”

“Understand?”

Go Jun’s eyes grew redder. No one could understand what he was feeling.

Yet this sly old raccoon had the nerve to smile and say that.

Crack.

The bones in his clenched fist shifted with an audible snap.

Go Jun had once been so quiet and sparing with his emotions that he seemed carved from stone. The death of Lee Jungryong, the man he had respected and followed more than anyone, had changed him unmistakably.

“Ahem.”

Prime Minister Jang was not too oblivious to notice. He glanced uneasily at Go Jun’s fist and lowered himself awkwardly into a chair.

“I seem to have misspoken. If I offended you, I apologize.”

“…It’s fine. I let my emotions get the better of me as well.”

Go Jun forced down his boiling anger.

He was no longer the orphan of thirty-odd years ago, with nothing left to lose. He had what his Master had passed down to protect, and a mountain of work to do if he meant to protect it.

“But did you really come alone, Prime Minister?”

There it was. Prime Minister Jang answered the abrupt question as calmly as he could.

“I did.”

“Then where is the President?”

“I imagine you already know where he is.”

Prime Minister Jang glanced toward the covered window. Specially treated blackout curtains hid the view, but drawing them back would reveal the Blue House¹ directly beyond.

“The President has pressing matters to attend to. He’ll come when the national funeral officially begins in three hours. I believe his office already informed you…?”

As Prime Minister Jang’s words trailed off, Go Jun’s gaze darkened.

“That’s why I asked again. I couldn’t believe what I’d been told.”

“What?”

“Prime Minister Jang. No…”

Go Jun leaned forward from the sofa. The old politician’s reflection appeared in his red eyes, and a chilling voice passed his lips.

“Mr. Jang Taekhwan.”

“…!”

“Stop screwing around and let’s speak frankly. Go back and arrange a private meeting with the President right now. There are still three hours before the national funeral proceedings begin, so I’ll give you one hour.”

“H-Hey! How dare you—”

“How dare I?”

Crsh.

Prime Minister Jang’s eyes widened. The sturdy crystal glass in Go Jun’s hand was crumbling into fine powder, spilling between his fingers.

At the same time, the change in Go Jun’s tone cut into the Prime Minister’s ears.

“That’s right. How dare you act like this. Have you forgotten who paved the easy road you’ve walked all these years?”

“Y-You…”

The old politician’s voice shook.

Go Jun was telling the truth. The name Ares Guild was an indelible stain on Prime Minister Jang’s decades in politics.

They were the ones who had cleaned up the filth he left behind, wiped his ass, and loaded heavy boxes into his car trunk.

But…

“That—that was Vice Guild Master Lee Jungryong! Not you!”

“That’s right. It was all the Vice Guild Master’s doing. No—my Master’s.”

A dry smile touched Go Jun’s lips.

“And now it’s my job.”

“…!”

“Don’t get the wrong idea. He may be dead, but the Ares Guild still stands.”

The Ares Guild was an impregnable fortress.

Cheon Taemin, the immortal hero and savior of humanity, had laid its cornerstone. Lee Jungryong had built walls no one dared challenge.

“There isn’t a place in Yeouido²—or anywhere in this country—beyond our reach.”

This was a world ruled by the laws of capitalism.

None of the world’s ten largest Guilds appeared in Forbes’s annual rankings of major corporations. Everyone knew how much power and wealth those Guilds held anyway, and how much influence the Ares Guild held even among them.

Now that power would pass from the dead to the living.

“Do you think all he left me was his dying wish?”

“W-What?”

Prime Minister Jang’s eyes widened. According to the NIS,³ Lee Jungryong had left no will.

No—there was not supposed to be a will.

The ignorant public had been talking about it endlessly, but the Prime Minister had firmly believed the information he had received.

“Then you…”

Go Jun’s eyes flashed red.

“You should call me Vice Guild Master, not ‘you.’”

“…!”

A faint tremor ran through the old politician’s body. After a suffocating silence, he spoke weakly.

“Mr. Go Jun. No, Vice Guild Master Go. The situation isn’t as simple as you think.”

The red light in Go Jun’s eyes gradually faded. His voice remained dry, but his tone softened somewhat.

“I know. That’s why you’ll have to work harder, Prime Minister Jang. You and the others.”

“Whew. That’s… not easy. There are rumors, too.”

“Rumors?”

“Hunter Jin Taekyung. No—I’m not trying to talk about him. Of course, he is connected to this to a considerable degree.”

Prime Minister Jang had hurried to explain himself when Go Jun reacted to the name. He continued.

“You already know about the young Team Leader from the Peace Guild, don’t you? His name is Choi Minwoo, I believe.”

“…Go on.”

“Since Vice Guild Master Lee Jungryong passed away, people around us have had plenty to say. Even with someone to succeed him… it’s true that the Ares Guild isn’t what it used to be.”

Lee Jungryong had been a symbol in his own right.

He was a hero who had suppressed the Great Cataclysm at Cheon Taemin’s side, as well as an S-rank Hunter counted among the very best in the entire world.

His death would not bring the Ares Guild down overnight. But its strength and influence were bound to diminish sharply.

Damn it.

Go Jun knew that. Better than anyone.

The grumbling and resistance already rising throughout the Guild were proof. So was Prime Minister Jang’s attitude—something he would never have dared while Lee Jungryong was alive.

If Master were here. If he were still alive…

The words lingered on Go Jun’s tongue, but he did not let them out.

He could not afford to show any more uncertainty. His face hardened as he spoke.

“You seem to have plenty of worries, Prime Minister Jang. And plenty of time.”

“What does that—”

“The Ares Guild will handle its own affairs. You should handle yours.”

“No, that’s not what I—”

Go Jun watched him try to explain, then leaned back against the sofa.

“Fifty minutes.”

“F-Fifty minutes? What do you mean?”

“Ten minutes have passed since I gave you an hour. That leaves fifty. I don’t think you have time to sit here any longer. Am I wrong?”

“…!”

It was a clear dismissal: arrange the private meeting with the President, whatever it took, before the national funeral began.

Prime Minister Jang rose on unsteady legs and turned toward the door. Go Jun’s quiet voice reached him from behind.

“One more thing. That person… the Guild Master won’t be coming. Keep everyone in line so there’s no gossip.”

What more could he say?

Prime Minister Jang nodded weakly and left the private room.

Click.

The door sounded unusually loud as it shut. Go Jun stared at the empty place where the Prime Minister had been, then glanced down at his left arm.

Two black stripes marked his mourning armband. With no suitable blood relative to take the role for Lee Jungryong, Go Jun had become the chief mourner.

Master. Are you at peace there?

He could not remember his parents’ faces, yet he missed the face of Lee Jungryong—a man who shared none of his blood—with a pain that cut deep.

He would probably never forget his Master. Nor would he forget the two names that followed him like tags.

“…Jin Taekyung. Choi Minwoo.”

The man who had killed his Master. And the man who meant to take everything his Master had built.

His voice came hot through clenched teeth, and his eyes burned redder than ever.

Still trembling with rage, Go Jun suddenly felt at his neck.

Clink.

Cold metal met his fingertips. He unclasped the necklace and stared down at it. Its plating had worn away in patches, leaving it ugly and battered.

Master.

He knew this necklace was not Lee Jungryong. It was not even something Lee Jungryong had left behind.

But one thing was certain.

It was the only thing that had kept its shape in the ruins of what had once been the Arch Lich’s stronghold.

It was a mere trinket. To Go Jun, it had been worth paying the head of the investigation team a fortune in bribes to smuggle it out.

“…Whew.”

Go Jun let out a deep sigh and rose from his seat.

He was the chief mourner at this grand funeral. He had to greet the countless people waiting outside and show his face to media from around the world, making clear who now wielded power in the Ares Guild.

Click.

When he opened the door, dozens of men and women lined up along the corridor bowed their heads.

Their eyes were fierce, and even their smallest movements carried force. Each one looked every bit the A-rank Hunter they were.

They were Go Jun’s new hands and feet.

“Let’s go.”

At his quiet command, dozens of footsteps crossed the corridor.

The national funeral for Lee Jungryong, former Vice Guild Master of the Ares Guild, lasted five days and was held on a grand scale.

Media and powerful figures from around the world came to Korea. Hundreds of thousands of citizens took to the streets to mourn while the funeral was under way.

But not everyone did. To people hungry today, someone else’s death could feel very far away.

Slash!

Stab-stab-stab!

“Kill it! Stab it now!”

“Keep your distance! Hey, you bastard! Don’t rush out!”

—Kieeeek!

Shrill cries rang through a damp, dark cave.

Weapons deliberately smeared with mud to dull their shine moved without pause, seeking to end their enemies’ lives.

Whoosh—thud!

“Seongha!”

“You monster bastards!”

—Kik. Kiririik!

The battle between Hunters and monsters was fierce, and desperate besides.

Then, as the two species’ differently colored blood sprayed in every direction—

Rumble-rumble-rumble!

The ground shook. Stalactites fell from the cave ceiling.

At the same moment, a surge of powerful magical power swept through the Gate from somewhere. The humans screamed.

“A Mutated Gate!”

“Fuck…”

That much magical power could not come from a low-level Gate. Mid-level at the very least. No, high-level.

Perhaps higher still.

Th-This is…

It’s over.

Death. Just as despair settled over every face at the thought of it, someone’s sighing voice echoed through the dark cave.

“Fuck. Brings back old memories.”