“...He’s still unlucky as ever, so he can’t be Dali.”

Moon Hyun-ah murmured, and Seong Hyunjae tilted his head, looking at her.

“You mean my son?”

“What a disgusting thing to say! You really aren’t the real Seong Hyunjae.”

“I heard there’s a little pink-haired kid just like me.”

“Don’t call him your son in front of Gyeol—he’ll cry.”

“So there’s one more being like me.”

“Don’t worry; he’s the unluckiest of all. Anyway.”

Moon Hyun-ah unbuttoned her shirt’s sleeve cuff as she spoke.

“You’re saying this isn’t the Seong Hyunjae I know. So tell me—what happened to that bastard?”

“Right in front of the Breaker Guild Master.”

Moon Hyun-ah’s brow furrowed. Song Taewon let out a short sigh, then without warning stomped the floor. Slosh The shallow water splashed as Song Taewon’s massive frame lunged at Seong Hyunjae in an instant.

He was no one you could draw out with mere words. He had to be subdued, or at least compelled to speak. As he leapt, Song Taewon’s arm, swung far back, thrust forward toward Seong Hyunjae. A black shadow gathered around his five curved fingers.

Crackle!

Electric current arced through the spilled water. Though Song Taewon was enveloped in the electricity, he ignored it and aimed for Seong Hyunjae’s throat. A golden light barred his path, but the shadow dispersed it. Just before his hand could seize the neck, Seong Hyunjae’s torso arched back—an impeccably measured dodge that left Song Taewon’s fingertip brushing the nape.

Seong Hyunjae’s denser plunder mana pierced Taewon’s protective mana, breaking it. The finger grazing the unprotected neck carved a red line. A few drops of blood flicked up as Seong Hyunjae twisted, snatching Taewon’s wrist.

Their strengths were normally comparable, but with Song Taewon’s skills added, Seong Hyunjae held the disadvantage. Taewon tried to pull him in to overpower him, but—

“...!!”

The plunder shadow spread from Seong Hyunjae’s hand, coiling around Taewon’s forearm. His protective mana dissolved in an instant, and with a crack—

Bones twisted. Moon Hyun-ah, watching from the sidelines to avoid the water, widened her eyes. Seong Hyunjae yanked Taewon’s arm, hurling him like a throw. Taewon spun midair, attempting to land, but Seong Hyunjae was faster, kicking him again.

Taewon’s intact arm, infused with plunder, blocked the smooth boot. Normally, Seong Hyunjae would have dispelled the opponent’s mana to ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) stop such an attack. Yet he, too, used plunder. The two black manas collided and vanished, and Taewon, off-balance, toppled backward.

Splash! Water surged upward. A golden chain shot from the undergrowth like a hidden serpent, wrapping around Taewon’s neck as Seong Hyunjae’s boot pressed into his chest.

“...So that’s it.”

Taewon spoke softly. Seong Hyunjae knelt, pressing his knee into Taewon’s chest, smiling.

“How do you feel?”

Taewon lay half-submerged in the shallow pool, looking up at him.

“You’re more skilled than I thought.”

“Meanwhile, Song Taewon, you’re more suppressed than in my memory—your expression has slackened.”

Seong Hyunjae’s fingertip tapped Taewon’s cheek lightly.

“Perhaps that’s why I hesitated. The higher the sun, the shorter, darker the shadow.”

“Wait—so you mean this is the Seong Hyunjae from before regression, after Mr. Song died?”

Moon Hyun-ah asked incredulously.

“I didn’t go to China, but that was definitely Mr. Song’s plunder, right?”

“It was the last gift Mr. Song Taewon gave me.”

“...Then what—is it simply that your pre-regression memory has returned?”

“I doubt it.”

Taewon released the chain choking his neck.

“Both Seong Hyunjae’s and Han Yujin’s attitudes felt like dealing with different people.”

“You met him as well, brother?”

“He grabbed and shook my hair.”

“Why do you do all the fun stuff when I’m not around? Let me join in.”

Moon Hyun-ah feigned hurt. Song Taewon once more stared at Seong Hyunjae.

“Move aside.”

“No.”

Seated squarely atop Taewon, Seong Hyunjae answered. Pushing him off with force would have been easy, but Taewon simply sighed and stayed put—because Seong Hyunjae seemed quite pleased.

“I am indeed the Seong Hyunjae you two seek.”

“You overlaid traces from before regression?”

Seong Hyunjae turned to Moon Hyun-ah, feigning surprise.

“Similar enough.”

“But your core is pre-regression rather than post.”

The Marisa Moon Hyun-ah met had been the post-regression persona. Though she’d inherited pre-regression Marisa’s contract, abilities, and fragments of memory, she was still plainly the current Marisa. But Seong Hyunjae seemed the opposite. “They felt similar” indeed led to similar deeds, Moon Hyun-ah muttered half-aloud.

“...What about the current Hunter Seong Hyunjae?”

Taewon furrowed his brow. As if to calm him, Seong Hyunjae pressed Taewon’s fingers against his furrowed brow, smoothing it.

“No matter who I am, it would be hard to swallow me whole instantly. If I disappear, I’ll return intact. If time keeps flowing, I’ll eventually be absorbed, losing my own mind.”

But such a trace—no matter how solid—could not endure. Without mentioning that, Seong Hyunjae laughed softly. Moon Hyun-ah crossed her arms in exasperation.

“Should I at least smite you on the back of the head?”

“I’ll pass on being treated like a broken appliance.”

“Electric shocks are more or less similar—kick him, Mr. Song.”

“What is your purpose?”

Taewon raised his uninjured arm, clasping Seong Hyunjae’s wrist, which pressed on his forehead.

“I don’t know much about pre-regression Seong Hyunjae. But I believe that person wouldn’t do something like this without reason.”

“So Song Taewon, that’s why you couldn’t kill me then?”

“Not only you—no one could.”

“Even now?”

Seong Hyunjae freed his captured wrist and stood. The shattered aquarium’s water poured out, soaking his clothes. Unbuttoning his tie and loosening his shirt collar, he spoke.

“My dear friends, we are the villains opposing Han Yujin’s team that seeks to save the world.”

“I quit.”

Moon Hyun-ah raised a hand.

“If Han Yujin wins, the world may be roughly saved—or not. But if we win, part of it will break, and on top of that we’ll hand over one more person—and that’s the end.”

“...The end meaning—what exactly happens?”

“Just the end. The Transcendents depart, the dungeon may vanish, or if it remains, it won’t be dangerous.”

“How badly does it break?”

“With luck, just a couple small nations—haven’t heard the exact details.”

Moon Hyun-ah frowned.

“And the one person we must hand over?”

“Either Han Yujin or Seong Hyunjae.”

Seong Hyunjae named himself as if speaking of another.

“...If not my brother, it won’t feel so tragic.”

“That’s precisely why there’s no reason to cooperate.”

“Then you might interfere with me. But one thing’s certain.”

Seong Hyunjae explained, and Moon Hyun-ah and Song Taewon listened. Taewon remained silent; Moon Hyun-ah sighed.

“Anyway, better to stay here. But this won’t air on broadcast, right? We end up the bad guys—I’m a guild master.”

“No broadcast. I might tell opposing hunters, ‘You know, he’s got my weakness.’”

“What about the image of Seong Guild?”

“He’ll manage it himself.”

Song Taewon quietly rose. His shadowed eyes met Seong Hyunjae’s, then Moon Hyun-ah’s.

“I truly admire Han Yujin. But...”

“If you ask us to trust my brother with the world, it’s hard to decide. Chief Han is a wonderful person—too good to abandon. Knowing his pre-regression deeds, asking me to cut him loose feels cruel.”

Neither Taewon nor Moon Hyun-ah were ones to let go of those beside them lightly. Yet as leaders of a unit, they had to sever ties when necessary. In dungeon raids against murderous monsters, they had to be even more cold-blooded.

They would see everyone safely returned. At the same time, they steeled themselves to sacrifice one for the many as they stepped through the dungeon gate. They had no choice; even if they’d never lost anyone, they must always prepare for the worst.

“I’m not hoping my brother loses, but someone must stand with us. The Transcendents demand balance.”

Taewon nodded gravely.

“If we must choose a side, this one suits us.”

“Don’t forget you both must do your best.”

“Don’t worry. But you said five, right?”

“One won’t ever come here, and the other two... have probably finished their business by now.”

Seong Hyunjae opened a system window. Soon a pair of a man and woman appeared. Moon Hyun-ah recognized one and gasped.

“Ms. Mari!”

“Oh, hello.”

“I’m Moon Hyun-ah, Breaker Guild Master. I’m a fan of yours!”

“...Yes?”

Mari’s eyes widened as she looked at Moon Hyun-ah. Having researched Han Yujin and observed the Chatterbox party, she knew of Moon Hyun-ah. But suddenly a fan? Moon pointed at Seong Hyunjae with a laugh.

“To abduce the Seong Guild Master and try to hold a wedding—how could I not become a fan? Even Hunter Kang So-young said all of Seong Guild was in an uproar.”

“No, you see...”

Mari glanced at Seong Hyunjae and cut in.

“I have no intention of marrying him now! Back then...”

“His face?”

“...If he’d stayed quiet and behaved, he was like a prince!”

Moon Hyun-ah nodded—at least his looks were undeniable.

“But after the wedding was canceled, he was a bit kinder. Well, he treated me better than I expected.”

“Don’t be fooled. Next thing you know, he’ll act like nothing happened.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll never marry Seong Hyunjae!”

Mari clenched both fists and declared it. Moon Hyun-ah watched her with a slightly complex expression.

“You’re truly delightful, Mari.”

“Huh? Really? I do think I’m cute and pretty.”

Mari sparkled at the compliment. Moon Hyun-ah felt the urge to tousle her hair, then glanced at the man appearing with them.

“And you are?”

Samir smiled broadly.

“I’m Samir. Just his attendant.”

“A prince in all but name!”

“An unusual duo. Somehow they came under Seong Hyunjae’s wing.”

“Perhaps a slow introduction and coordination would be wise.”

Seong Hyunjae manipulated his room’s system. The water on the floor vanished, and the large aquarium restored itself. A dressing room then appeared before him. As he removed his jacket, Mari exclaimed and covered her eyes with her hand.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to look good for Han Yujin. I brought back my home from memory, so there should be Mr. Song Taewon’s clothes too. Want to change?”

“...If there are, I’d appreciate it.”

“Unfortunately, apart from mine and Mr. Song’s outfits, there’s nothing else—be careful not to break the aquarium.”

Creating more than the default room setup was difficult.

“If it were post-regression Seong Hyunjae’s memories, there’d be his brother’s clothes too.”

“Like Han Yujin’s?”

“I stayed at his home a few days. Apparently, I never took him there before regression.”

“You’re quick. My memory only had Mr. Song’s clothes.”

Donned in a crisp new shirt, Seong Hyunjae looked to Moon Hyun-ah and Song Taewon.

“As the system’s temporary manager, I can finalize achievements outside the dungeon—anyone wish to receive theirs? You must agree to view the status screen info.”

“Thank you, but I’ll pass—for me, only if it were my brother.”

“I’ll delay mine too.”

“Me as well. My mother said never reveal skills lightly.”

“Sorry, but I’ll pass too.”

At the string of refusals, Seong Hyunjae shrugged. After a while, a call from the Mermaid Queen appeared for him.

—

Hotel room, Paris, France

“What could this be?”

Han-gyeol, left alone after Park Yerim departed, placed a small orb—smaller than his fist—on the table and stared at it. It was what Mari and Samir had unexpectedly given him. He rotated the orb and pouted.

“Auntie left me too.”

His flight back to Korea was scheduled for tomorrow. He planned to return home nice and sensible, but now he felt miffed at being left alone after Park Yerim was summoned by Han Yujin.

“If Auntie can go, why not Gyeol? He wouldn’t get hurt!”

He could help his father—maybe transform into his fairy dragon form and sneak off to the Alps.

“How long to fly to the Alps?”

He reached for his phone to search—when suddenly—

“For Han-gyeol’s wings, that might be difficult.”

A familiar voice interjected. Han-gyeol jumped and let out a startled cry.