Several minutes later, the van stopped at an abandoned city on the outskirts of Seoul.

We stepped into a dark alley, lighting the way with our phones, until an old public phone booth came into view. At first glance, it looked like nothing more than rusted metal and cracked glass, but the phone itself, though grimy, seemed oddly intact.

Did they paint it to look dirtier on purpose?

Lee Seon lifted the receiver and pressed a sequence of buttons. Somewhere inside the wall, a latch clicked.

Oh…

The section of wall behind the booth shifted, revealing a hidden passage. We followed Lee Seon and Jang Ha-yun inside; the wall sealed behind us, lights flickering on along the corridor. At the far end stood a reinforced door.

Lee Seon swiped a card at the panel. A beep, then the door unlocked.

Inside, a stocky, close-cropped man greeted us.

“You’re here, Captain.”

“Yu Dong-hyun, good work,” Ha-yun said, giving him a sharp salute.

“Mm. You too.”

“The girl’s eaten and gone to sleep,” Dong-hyun reported. “The teacher’s waiting in his room.”

Lee Seon nodded, then turned to me. “He said he wants to talk with you alone. Go ahead.”

“Understood.”

Dong-hyun led me to a door. He knocked. “Mr. Kim Sang-sik. Nam Yein is here.”

“Come in,” came the reply.

I stepped into a sparsely furnished room—just a table, chairs, and a bed. Kim Sang-sik sat waiting.

“I’ll leave you two,” Dong-hyun said. “Don’t talk too long. He insisted on seeing you, but we need to get you back to the Academy before it’s too late.”

“All right,” Kim answered.

The door shut.

“You said you wanted to speak with me?” I asked.

Kim nodded, gesturing to the chair across from him. “Sit.”

I did, and he looked me in the eye. “First, I want to apologize.”

His expression was lined with regret.

“I should have stopped Jodie from acting rashly. That was my duty. But I didn’t, and now things are as they are.”

“Why couldn’t you stop her, sir?” I asked.

Kim pressed his lips together. I already knew why, but asking was the natural step.

“…Because no one understands her rage better than I do. I knew it, and still I let her drag me with her. Don’t blame her alone.”

Of course. His reason for helping Jodie wasn’t only pity for a victim of Forward’s experiments. He too wanted Forward destroyed.

“So you hate Forward as well?”

“…Yes.”

“Then, if you don’t mind, could you tell me why?”

Kim nodded slowly. “That’s part of what I wanted to say.”

He drew in a deep breath, let it out, then began.

“Before I taught at Gwangcheon, I was just a hunter. I belonged to a guild, went into dungeons, brought out demon-world materials and relics. One day, I was hired to deliver materials urgently. That was when I first met Sherry—my girlfriend.”

Game knowledge surfaced in my mind, bits of backstory about his character. I pushed it aside, keeping my face calm.

“You had a girlfriend.”

“…I did.” His face darkened.

“Sherry was a researcher at Forward. After that first request, I saw her again and again. We grew closer, and in time, we became lovers.”

Sherry of Forward—the lynchpin of Kim Sang-sik’s story.

“She was a good person. Always dreamed of a better world, believed her research would make it possible. She inspired me. I left All Around, became a teacher, and applied to Gwangcheon, the academy in the worst conditions.”

“Sir… did you say All Around?” I widened my eyes as if surprised.

He gave a faint nod.

“Seven years ago, in winter, Sherry began to change. She looked hollow, distracted. Her complexion grew pale. I asked what was wrong, but she evaded every question. Then, at Christmas, she cut all contact.”

If that had been the end, it would’ve been a simple heartbreak. But then, he would have no reason to hate Forward.

“When I went to her home, she was gone. At her workplace, I was told she had quit. Her family said they didn’t know where she was, and asked me if I did. We filed a missing persons report, but months passed with nothing. Then, April 7th the following year, the police called. Sherry had been found dead.”

“……”

Even knowing the story beforehand, hearing it made my mouth taste bitter.

“At the scene were her fingerprints and blood on a knife made from demon-world material. No suicide note. The police concluded suicide—the knife had only her prints, there were deep cuts on her wrists, massive blood loss, no sign of a struggle. But I couldn’t accept it. If she truly killed herself, there had to be a reason. So I started asking her friends and coworkers. That’s when I noticed something strange.”

“What sort of strange?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“Every coworker gave the same answer: they knew nothing. None of them questioned her supposed suicide. That’s when I realized—something had happened at her workplace. From that day, I began digging into their research. I couldn’t do it alone, so I used my old contacts.”

“And that’s how you learned about Forward’s human experiments.”

Kim Sang-sik nodded.

“Sherry realized her research was tied to those kinds of experiments. It broke her. But she couldn’t tell anyone. She struggled alone, then quit her job and cut ties with everyone—so she wouldn’t bring harm to me or her family.”

He stopped and let out a long sigh.

“Sherry wanted to expose Forward’s human experiments to the world, to put an end to them. A friend of hers who had investigated sent me what they believed she’d hidden—data containing proof of Forward’s experiments. After disappearing, she must have been gathering evidence alone. Forward caught on, and sent Black Hound to silence her…”

Kim Sang-sik’s voice failed him.

“They staged it as suicide. Probably bought off the police too.”

He nodded grimly.

“Once I learned the truth, I knew I could never forgive Forward. So I swore to continue what Sherry started. Last summer, while tracking Forward’s labs, I met Jodie. She shared the same goal, and so we began working together.”

“I see now why you can’t turn Jodie away,” I said with a nod.

“Yein.”

“Yes.”

“Until recently, I never thought I’d tell anyone else about this. Not Sherry’s parents, not the police, not even the Peacekeepers. Do you know why?”

“Because you couldn’t trust anyone outside.”

“…Exactly.” He nodded. “And you are my student. Normally, you should never be dragged into something like this. But today changed my mind.”

He fixed me with a steady gaze.

“Jodie and I can’t take down Forward alone. Even with evidence, no one would punish them.”

Lines of strain cut into his face.

“Even Mayor Cheon Ji-won—called the world’s strongest—couldn’t touch them. I always knew that, but hearing it from him today made the despair real. Yet you spoke of weakening Forward through magic-stone energy. And I realized something.”

His hands clenched tight on the table.

“Now that I see a path forward, I can’t keep pretending to be only a teacher.”

He stood, came closer.

“Nam Yein. You destroyed Valhall. You helped when Jodie lost control outside Gwangcheon, and gave us the Doppelgänger’s Mirror so we could live undetected. Today, you even involved the mayor to save us. And you showed me a hope I couldn’t see.”

He bowed deeply.

“Please. Let me kill the ones who murdered Sherry with my own hands. For that, I’ll do anything you ask. Just don’t leave me trapped here, powerless.”

A sigh pressed at my lips.

I knew this from the game, but… Kim Sang-sik, you’re broken too.

He was begging his former student to give him a chance at vengeance. Every word he’d confessed had been to reach this plea.

A teacher who cared for children, yet also a man consumed by revenge. That was Kim Sang-sik.

“Mr. Kim Sang-sik,” I said, rising to face him. “I understand.”

He stayed bowed, as if refusing to lift his head until he heard the answer he wanted.

“Do you know which member of Black Hound killed your girlfriend?” I asked.

That question forced him to look up.

“…Not yet.”

“Then we’ll find out.” I smiled. “All the pieces are here.”

His eyes widened.

At that moment, a knock came. Lee Seon opened the door.

“Nam Yein. Time to head back to the dorm.”

“Yes, sir.” I glanced back at Kim. “I’ll talk to the mayor. Please wait a little longer.”

We left together, where Jang Ha-yun and Yu Dong-hyun were waiting.

“….”

One look at Ha-yun’s face nearly made me laugh.

“Go start the car,” Lee Seon ordered.

“Y-yes, sir.” Her voice trembled as she left the safehouse.

Lee Seon frowned, while Yu Dong-hyun gave a wry smile.

“Take care of them for now,” Lee Seon told him.

“Leave it to me,” Dong-hyun replied with a grin.

A short while later, the van carried us toward Yongsan.

“Mr. Kim’s story is… tragic, isn’t it?” I said.

“…What do you mean?”

“You heard it all. That ‘sister’ of yours even cried, didn’t she?”

From the front seat came a hiccup. Streaks of tears had been visible on Jang Ha-yun’s face earlier.

Lee Seon sighed heavily. “…Maybe I should reassign her to office work.”

“Wha—senior! Don’t say that! Anyone would cry at a story like that! Not crying would be inhuman!”

Her whining sent the car swaying left and right.

“Just keep your eyes on the road.”

“Ugh…”

Lee Seon clicked his tongue.

Several minutes later, they dropped me off near Gwangcheon.

At the gate, the security guard leaned out.

“Where’ve you been till this hour? The others came back this afternoon.”

“Had a lot of people to meet.”

“That so? Well, you did win HAUT, so I guess plenty would want a word.”

Though it had little to do with HAUT, I thought.

Back in my dorm room, I sat at my desk, plugged in my tablet, and powered it up.

A quick search for “HAUT” pulled up headlines:

[This Year’s HAUT Champions Receive Tickets from Both Mega-Corporations and All Around]

[Unprecedented Event at HAUT: Gwangcheon’s Stunning Rise]

[Special Feature: The Miracle of Gwangcheon Academy (1)]

What a stir.

It was inevitable. Even I hadn’t expected we’d get tickets from Forward, Crystal, and All Around.

By our agreement, All Around should contact us tomorrow.

I recalled the detail that Kim Sang-sik had once belonged to All Around.

That might come in handy, I thought, already picturing tomorrow’s meeting.

(End of Chapter)