Chapter 566

What Team Leader Choi told me was the last thing I’d expected.

If magical power readings hadn’t been rising so sharply, I might have found this even more interesting.

A traitor?

A few Ares Guild members had come over to our side after the recent incident, but those were ordinary transfers. Rank-and-file Guild members like them were a dime a dozen at Ares.

A traitor on the inside was another matter.

Especially if he’s a big shot.

In Murim terms, he was a master of the previous generation. Having lived through the Great Cataclysm already made him interesting enough, but he was also the head of an internal faction powerful enough to threaten Go Jun.

Oh, now that’s appetizing.

“…Mr. Jin Taekyung?”

“Oh. Yes? What is it?”

“Here, take this first.”

It was a handkerchief. I blinked at him, and Team Leader Choi pointed awkwardly at my chin.

“I don’t know why, but there’s a lot of drool around your mouth.”

“…Oh.”

“It looks like it’s about to dr—ugh.”

What was with the ugh? A man could drool a little.

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and got straight to the point.

“So who is he? The traitor.”

“Traitor. I doubt he’d like hearing that. How should I put it… He’d probably prefer to be called a business partner. Or Ares Guild’s next Vice Guild Master.”

“What kind of bullshit is that? It sounds like you’ve more or less struck a deal with him already. If it looks like betrayal, I’m calling him a traitor. Is he just telling himself otherwise to feel better?”

Team Leader Choi wasn’t the one who answered.

Butler Kim had been listening quietly. Now he spoke in a low voice.

“He craves honor.”

“Honor?”

“As people grow old and death draws closer, they often begin to cling to honor. No… Looking back on the life he’s led, greed might be the better word.”

Had I ever heard Butler Kim speak so harshly about anyone?

Lee Jungryong was the only person who came to mind. But what Butler Kim had shown Lee was anger. What he felt toward this man sounded more like contempt.

He almost never shows his feelings this openly.

From everything I’d seen and heard, Butler Kim was practically up there with Jesus and Buddha. Sure, he seemed to have had a fiery temper when he was young, but that was a long time ago.

Who the hell is this guy?

Judging by how severely he was criticizing the man’s entire life, they clearly knew each other well. But there were so many Ares Guild executives who wielded considerable influence that no name immediately came to mind.

As if he’d read my mind, Team Leader Choi spoke.

“Director Song. Song Cheonwoo is that kind of man.”

“Song Cheonwoo. Song Cheonwoo…”

The name sounded vaguely familiar. I searched for it on my phone and found a short profile.

Calling it a profile was generous. It had his date of birth, a few lines about his life, and two photos of the same man side by side at the top of the page, one from his younger days.

Still, it gave me something.

“Huh? Wait, is this guy…?”

“Have you seen him before?”

“I think so. There’s a framed picture of him in the hallway at the Hunter training center. Isn’t there?”

“You probably remember correctly. He briefly served as head of the Hunter training center a little over twenty years ago.”

“Oh.”

That was before the rules for the position had been properly established, but even then, only a top ranker with an impressive record could become head of the Hunter training center.

He really is a big deal.

For someone with his reputation, though, there was barely anything about him online. A man like this had to have plenty of accomplishments and stories to his name, yet his biography was only two or three lines long. His profile hadn’t even been updated in three years.

Three years ago?

Even a B-list celebrity would have more written about them. I frowned and tapped around for another source.

Bzz.

My phone vibrated faintly. A notification appeared on the screen.

Team Leader Choi

└ Team Leader Choi: [File attached]

“What’s this all of a sudden?”

“I thought it would be faster. I doubt you’ll find much detail about him through an Internet search.”

“Come on. In this day and age?”

“Then I’ll delete the attachment.”

“But since you went to the trouble of sending it, I’ll read it.”

“…”

“Listen until someone finishes speaking Korean.”

Having offered Team Leader Choi that valuable advice, I opened the file. Unlike the online profile, it ran to dozens of pages.

I started taking in the information on the screen as fast as I could.

Name: Song Cheonwoo. Age: seventies.

He was an A-rank Hunter, naturally. Twenty years ago, he’d ranked as high as third in Korea. The two people ahead of him had been Cheon Taemin and Lee Jungryong, which told me he was a formidable fighter in his own right.

During the Great Cataclysm, he’d taken part in dozens of major battles. His work had apparently been more prominent overseas than at home: he’d received medals from eight countries, including the United Kingdom, Germany, and France.

And the rest of his career? There was too damn much to go through line by line.

“That’s some résumé. How did I not remember him?”

“He isn’t as well known in Korea as you might think. Most of his notable work was overseas, and he spent very little time working here after the war.”

“Ah. Right.”

His stint as head of the Hunter training center stood out, but according to the file, he’d resigned voluntarily before serving even half of his four-year term.

The official reason was his health, but…

“Two months later, appointed Director of Ares Guild’s European regional branch.”

I read the line aloud. Team Leader Choi nodded.

“That was his last position here. From twenty years ago until now, he’s remained the Director of Ares’s European regional branch. That’s why younger Hunters like you and me know so little about him.”

“Leave yourself out of it. You probably know Song Cheonwoo better than almost anyone. Am I wrong?”

“What makes you think so?”

“Who do you take me for, an idiot? Cheon Tae—sorry. Anyway, you seem to have quite a connection with that person, and Butler Kim knows him too, so there has to be a link. To give one more example……”

“What would that be?”

I didn’t have to think long. I pulled up a fairly recent memory and tossed out a phrase.

“Director of the European regional branch.”

“…!”

“You told me that when you were at Ares, they kept shuttling you between overseas branches. I think Europe was one of them.”

A faint smile touched Team Leader Choi’s lips. I’d got it right.

“You remembered.”

“I keep telling you I’m not that stupid.”

“You’re right. Song Cheonwoo followed my maternal grandfather long before I was born. When I was assigned to the European branch five years ago, Song used his authority as Director to keep me close.”

“So did you know each other personally…?”

“On second thought, ‘keep me close’ isn’t the right expression. I should say he kept me under surveillance and isolated me.”

“…So you weren’t close at all. Got it. Go on.”

“From what I saw of him, Song Cheonwoo’s abilities don’t match the scale of his ambition. Though his rival at the time may simply have been too formidable.”

His rival? I didn’t have to think about that one.

“Lee Jungryong.”

“A mountain can have only one master. Even if they were once friends, one of them had to leave.”

Now it made sense. Why a man of Song Cheonwoo’s stature had left Korea so soon after the war. Why he’d spent twenty years stuck in an impressive-sounding post overseas.

He was demoted.

There was no other way to put it. Lee Jungryong had won their power struggle inside Ares Guild and exiled his rival to Europe. Over time, Song had faded from people’s memories.

No. Knowing Lee Jungryong, he’d made sure Song was forgotten.

Which means this file…

It wasn’t a collection of Internet gossip. Experts had compiled and polished this investigation. It went beyond research and came close to surveillance.

So that’s why he sent it separately.

Unlike the online profile, whose updates had stopped five years ago, the final page of the file dealt with recent events.

• November 15, 2046. Discussed retirement at a party hosted by the British ambassador. Audio file attached.
• November 28, 2046. Purchased a two-story mansion of approximately 300 pyeong¹ in Samseong-dong, Seoul. Appears intended as a residence after retirement.
• January 1, 2047. Arrived through Incheon International Airport. Met secretly with key members of Ares Guild’s board of directors. Exact number and names attached in supplementary materials.
• January 2, 2047. Attended Lee Jungryong’s funeral. Held a second meeting with major political and business figures and key members of the Guild.
• January 4, 2047. Ares Guild’s board held an official meeting to appoint a Vice Guild Master. Go Jun’s appointment was approved after three revotes.

.

.

The file was packed with information on Song Cheonwoo’s movements over the past two months. Just reading it, I could see exactly how his thinking had changed.

“Song Cheonwoo’s got his heart set on a comeback.”

Team Leader Choi nodded.

“In November, he subtly expressed his intention to resign in a private setting, and he even purchased a mansion in Korea where he could stay after retirement. But……”

“Lee Jungryong died.”

“Yes. No one could have expected that. To a man on the verge of retirement, it must have looked like one last chance.”

“And his opponent wasn’t Lee Jungryong anymore. It was Go Jun. With you on his side, he must have thought he could win.”

Go Jun had needed three revotes to secure the Vice Guild Master position. That alone was proof. Song Cheonwoo, seventy-something and about to retire, had been gathering support wherever he could for one last shot.

“Pretty energetic for a man his age.”

Team Leader Choi gave a quiet laugh.

“That’s the magic of power, isn’t it? It’s given me an opportunity too.”

“Sure. That’s all well and good, but…”

What was this feeling? My mouth felt gritty, as though I’d chewed a handful of sand.

I stared at Song Cheonwoo’s face on the screen. Then Team Leader Choi spoke softly beside me.

“And if this works… a grandparent and grandchild² may finally see each other again after a long time.”

What hand?

I blinked at him. A moment later, I understood.

“No way.”

The savior of the twenty-first century. The immortal hero who had saved humanity and would live forever in its memory—yet had vanished one day behind an invisible curtain.

Cheon Taemin.

He hadn’t shown himself even when his only blood relative was in danger. Not even after Lee Jungryong died.

And his maternal grandson, born of the hero’s blood, spoke with the smile gone from his face.

“Song Cheonwoo knew where my maternal grandfather was.”

Go Se-won, the Head of Security, gazed at the teacup in front of him.

The cup, once warm, had gone cold. Tea-leaf dregs floated in the little tea he’d deliberately left behind.

Looks just like me.

He’d been staring at the cup for over an hour since making his report. At this point, he was almost getting attached to it.

But there was nothing else he could do. His job was to report the facts as they were, not to give orders. And considering the gravity of what he’d reported, he was fortunate his superior hadn’t smashed everything around him as he had last time.

He’s thinking it over. The longer he thinks, the better the decision should be.

His superior’s next words proved how badly he’d misjudged the situation.

“Kill him.”

“Sir?”

“I said kill him. His children. His grandchildren. His daughters-in-law. All of them.”

Thud.

A file folder slipped off the table, struck the floor, and fell open.

Go Jun stared at the three Korean characters spelling Song Cheonwoo, then at the photograph of a man with prominent cheekbones. Fire flickered in his eyes.

“Has this old bastard gone senile…?”