Suwon – Early Morning, One Day Later
The streets were quiet. Fog lingered in the alleys, and dew collected on the metal shutters of the Jung family's shop.
Ha-Joon stepped outside before the sun rose, hood up, earbuds in—though no music played. He was listening, but not to sounds.
He was listening to the silence between them.
The gap between this world… and the one he had left behind.
The air was changing.
Barely.
But enough.
---
Parked Van – Three Blocks Away
Inside a discreet van with tinted windows, a new team had arrived. Different operators. Smarter. No aura. No weapons visible. They had one job:
Observe. Don't engage.
And even so, they were nervous.
> "He hasn't retaliated beyond disabling."
> "But we don't know how far his capabilities go."
One of them—clearly the youngest—spoke.
> "Sir… why haven't we informed the public? If he's a threat—"
> "He's not a threat."
The voice was grim.
> "He's a promise. And if we break it… the world might break too."
---
Ha-Joon's Walk – Temple Road
He wandered down the old stone path behind the city's hillside, where a weathered Buddhist temple overlooked Suwon like a silent guardian.
There were no cameras here.
No eyes.
No interference.
Just him and the trees.
And there—on the worn wooden bench near the shrine—he sat quietly.
Breathing.
Letting the world slow down.
Remembering.
> "I don't need a system anymore," he whispered.
"I don't need stats. Levels. Skills."
> "I have myself."
---
Flashback – Somewhere in the Infinite
He remembered one world—a planet that never died—where time reversed with every sunrise and he was hunted by beasts that remembered future kills.
He'd lived there for 60 trillions years.
Died 109,204,781,288 times.
And still… he survived.
No one helped him.
Not even the system then.
Only his will.
And when he finally broke that loop and erased the sun…
The system gave him no reward.
Just silence.
---
Back to Earth – Present
> "I lived," he whispered.
"And now… I live."
He stood and bowed lightly toward the temple shrine. Not religious. Just respectful.
And then—
He felt it.
A ripple.
Not from Earth.
It wasn't an earthquake.
It wasn't a gate pulse.
It was like… a footstep in a hallway that shouldn't exist.
His eyes flashed red.
---
Later – School Grounds
Baek Seo-Yeon watched him again.
It had become a habit. He barely spoke in class. Never flinched. Always moved exactly how and when he needed to.
But today, something was different.
His shoulders were tenser.
His eyes weren't sleepy—they were hunting.
> "What happened?" she muttered to herself.
> "What did you see this time?"
---
Meanwhile – Deep in the Hunter Association Archives
The woman in silver—the same who had watched him from the rooftop—now stood in a restricted vault beneath the Association's Seoul headquarters.
Before her was an ancient gate record.
No name.
No coordinates.
Just a code: "G-0: Crimson Root"
She opened the file.
Inside was a single photo: a swirling gate from over 20 years ago, recorded by a now-defunct government agency.
And standing in front of it, just barely visible in the mist—
A figure with crimson eyes.
> "This can't be…"
She zoomed in.
And though the resolution was low—
It was unmistakable.
> "That's him."
> "He's been here before…"
---
Back in Suwon – Rooftop Again
Ha-Joon stood under the stars.
This time, his aura was loose. Not exploding—but not sealed either.
Letting the wind carry it.
Letting it leak.
A warning.
To the watchers.
To the ones hiding behind veils.
To the beings that followed him here.
> "If you step into this world," he said to the sky,
"You will kneel… or you will vanish."
---
That Same Night – Across the World
Far from Korea, in a hidden region of the Swiss Alps, a gate tore itself open.
No authorization.
No readings.
Just sudden… existence.
And from it, something stepped out.
Humanoid.
But not human.
Its skin shimmered like obsidian dipped in mercury.
Its eyes burned like collapsed stars.
It looked around.
Smiled faintly.
And whispered a single word:
> "...Joon."
---