Chapter 34: The Uninvited Guest

The truth was, Im Seung-ju became far too powerful when empowered by [Star’s Blessing], which was precisely why Shin Ji-ho hadn’t initially brought him along.

An Im Seung-ju blessed by [Star’s Blessing] was virtually on par with an S-rank Hunter.

Most private training facilities simply couldn’t withstand the might of an S-rank Hunter. Any damage incurred would have to be fully compensated, a luxury the Noname Guild, in its current state, simply couldn’t afford.

Yet, witnessing Im Seung-ju’s abject sorrow, Shin Ji-ho felt compelled to relent and take him. He half-feared that if he refused, Im Seung-ju might not just kneel, but perhaps even throw a full-blown tantrum on the floor.

“Will you really take me with you?”

“Yes, I will. We do need to fine-tune our skills a bit more, anyway. However, the training ground’s barriers have their limits, and any misstep could result in significant property damage. Can you manage to control your power effectively?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll perform flawlessly!”

“Still, try not to put too much pressure on yourself…”

Ultimately, this arrangement benefited Shin Ji-ho as well, but Im Seung-ju, who had clearly been heartbroken, only rose to his feet after receiving repeated reassurances. A quick glance at the clock revealed the hour hand already rested at six.

“I’ll text you the training facility’s location separately. Report there for work tomorrow, and for today, you’re dismissed to rest up for your training.”

“Yes, understood.”

The moment his objective was achieved, Im Seung-ju promptly exited the Guild Master’s office, his demeanor betraying not a hint of lingering regret.

Shin Ji-ho made another trip to the café, ordered a frappuccino, and then returned to his office. He then began to diligently tackle the formidable stack of documents awaiting his attention.

When he had first established the guild, the task had seemed overwhelming, but now, he found himself managing its affairs with considerable skill.

Completely engrossed in his work, Shin Ji-ho finally stretched his back after two hours, surveying the remaining pile of tasks.

“Still a bit left, it seems…”

All urgent paperwork had been cleared. Normally, he would have stayed to finish everything, but with Im Seung-ju joining the ranks tomorrow, an early night seemed prudent. Concluding his tasks, Shin Ji-ho finally rose.

Stepping out of his office, Shin Ji-ho found the guild eerily quiet, more so than usual. He cast an idle glance around the empty space.

Korean guilds were obligated to deploy immediately upon the emergence of unforeseen rifts or gates. Consequently, a few members typically remained on standby, but today, being a rare full holiday, the guild hall stood entirely vacant.

As he gazed upon the darkened, silent offices and training rooms, a peculiar sensation washed over him.

Immersed in the profound stillness that only night could bring, a silence distinct from the daytime bustle, Shin Ji-ho found himself staring into the empty air for a moment, a subtle tension coiling within him.

“…”

Predictably, no matter how long Shin Ji-ho stared into the void, nothing happened. Though entirely alone, a faint flush of awkwardness prompted him to shrug and turn his head away.

The truth was, Shin Ji-ho had seen a ghost when he was a child.

It wasn’t as if Shin Ji-ho possessed any particular spiritual sensitivity. The ghost he had encountered was, after all, a singular entity.

Should he even call it a ghost to begin with? Given that no one else could perceive its existence, and only Shin Ji-ho could see it, ‘ghost’ seemed the logical term. Yet, there was something about the being that strangely defied that label.

The ghost possessed an exceedingly pale face, with eyes and hair so profoundly black they seemed to absorb all light. Its form was ambiguous, making it impossible to discern whether it was male or female.

Purely by its appearance, it was undeniably a ghost. And weren’t ghosts typically entities to be feared?

Nevertheless, Shin Ji-ho had felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity emanating from the entity.

The entity consistently attempted to communicate something to Shin Ji-ho, yet he never once comprehended its words. Even when, in his frustration, he tried to decipher its speech through lip-reading, he found it impossible to understand a single syllable.

He had attempted conversation on numerous occasions, but every effort proved futile.

Eventually, he simply ignored it, even when it appeared. During high school, he was far too preoccupied with his studies.

Despite his indifference, the ghost continued to appear regularly and persistently, always attempting to convey something to Shin Ji-ho, though its message never reached him.

The ghost vanished after Shin Ji-ho awakened. The emotion Shin Ji-ho felt upon realizing he could no longer see it was a profound sense of regret.

Having seen it so frequently, he had grown accustomed to its presence, losing all fear. More than that, he had always harbored a desire to one day understand what it so desperately tried to convey.

Perhaps it had simply been a figment of his childhood imagination.

As Shin Ji-ho gathered his thoughts and memories, his gaze was drawn to the roses, still blooming vibrantly.

It remained a mystery what sustenance the rose bouquet Joo Yi-won had gifted him nearly a month ago was consuming to remain so fresh, but the other guild members, at least, appreciated the brighter atmosphere it brought.

Joo Yi-won was likely awaiting the start of a dungeon raid in Australia right about now. In a couple of hours, he would probably begin the assault.

Since he hadn’t eaten yet, he decided to grab some takeout, head home for a shower, and then catch the news. The time difference should align perfectly, meaning the Awakener segment would likely broadcast Joo Yi-won’s dungeon entry live.

“Perfect.”

Content with his evening plans, Shin Ji-ho extinguished all the lights within the guild and activated the magical lock, authenticated by his unique mana pattern. Only after several meticulous checks did he finally depart.

Just as he was about to approach the elevator.

****

*Thump, thump.*

Footsteps echoed from the stairwell. The sound, distinctly close rather than distant, caused Shin Ji-ho to frown.

The Noname Guild occupied the two uppermost floors of the building.

Given its nature, the Noname Guild rarely entertained visitors. At this late hour, an unexpected caller was even more improbable. The only person likely to visit, Joo Yi-won, was currently in Australia.

The fact that someone was deliberately ascending the narrow, unkempt stairwell suggested a high probability of an uninvited guest.

‘Could it be a guild raider?’

Guild raiders were a distinct breed from common thieves. These were Awakened individuals, unregistered, who possessed skills to bypass magical seals, often targeting small to medium-sized guilds to pilfer valuable items. Such incidents were not uncommon.

Having recently acquired numerous items from the Cheongram Auction House, Shin Ji-ho was an ideal target for such raiders. This was precisely why he had been extra meticulous with the security systems when leaving the guild today.

A direct confrontation in this scenario could easily escalate into a full-blown combat situation.

After a moment of deliberation, Shin Ji-ho decided to dispatch an emergency report via his terminal, then resolved to personally investigate the approaching presence.

Currently, all of Shin Ji-ho’s skills were configured for support, rendering him ill-suited for direct combat. Nevertheless, having operated as a combat-oriented Hunter for a year, he still retained a keen sense for battle.

Guild raiders, conversely, typically possessed subpar combat prowess. An Awakened individual with strong combat skills would undoubtedly secure a contract with a guild rather than resort to theft. Thus, they were generally manageable opponents.

At the very least, he could buy himself some time.

From his inventory pocket, Shin Ji-ho withdrew a weapon instead of his staff. It was a pistol he had acquired recently at an auction. This firearm utilized mana-charged rounds instead of conventional gunpowder, and while not overwhelmingly powerful, it was perfectly suited for deterrent purposes.

Muffling his footsteps, he descended silently. Shin Ji-ho positioned himself where he wouldn’t be detected, then cautiously peered down the emergency stairwell.

From the lower landing, a figure was slowly ascending. With long, unbound hair, the person was clad in a simple checkered shirt and jeans—an entirely ordinary appearance.

If this truly were a guild raider, they would at least have concealed their face. Could it simply be a passerby?

Without fully dropping his guard, Shin Ji-ho spoke.

“Who’s there?”

At Shin Ji-ho’s query, the footsteps abruptly ceased.

“Hello?”

With one foot poised on a step and the other still suspended below, the figure remained utterly motionless in an unnaturally contorted pose.

A chilling sensation crept over him, prompting Shin Ji-ho to raise his pistol and aim.

“This is the Noname Guild office, and business hours are concluded. Please leave.”

“F-found it.”

Muttering with a strangely slurred pronunciation, the figure slowly raised its head.

The two eyes that met Shin Ji-ho’s gleamed with a chilling sense of accomplishment. The moment it grinned, the form that had appeared so utterly human began to contort and mutate.

Its eyes became entirely saturated with a profound, inky blackness, devoid of any white. The skin, which moments before had possessed the texture of human flesh, now gleamed with the slick, iridescent sheen of fish scales.

‘That,’ Shin Ji-ho realized with a jolt, ‘is not human.’

The instant Shin Ji-ho registered the entity as a monster, he fired his pistol. Yet, the creature sustained no damage, even from a direct hit. Instead of pressing his attack, Shin Ji-ho instinctively ducked low.

*Whoosh—*

*Thud.*

Something had whipped past his head with terrifying speed. Shin Ji-ho had evaded it by the barest fraction of an inch.

After successfully dodging, he finally identified the assailant’s greatly elongated arm. Far longer than any human limb, it had missed Shin Ji-ho and embedded itself deeply into the wall.

However, there was no opportunity to feel relief, even with the enemy’s movement momentarily restrained.

The creature possessed immense strength. Its arm, still impaled in the wall, nonetheless surged rapidly toward Shin Ji-ho as if unhindered. This time, he swiftly dodged and simultaneously swung his fist toward the monster’s limb.

“Ugh!”

Shin Ji-ho groaned in pain, recoiling his fist. Though he had struck the rapidly moving arm, the impact had reverberated back through him. The monster’s body was incredibly dense; Shin Ji-ho’s attack seemed to have no effect whatsoever.

‘Ah, damn it…’

This was a miscalculation. He should have reported it and sought refuge inside the guild.

However, it was beyond conventional wisdom to imagine a monster directly attacking a guild building itself.

In Seoul, of all places, monsters roaming freely was nearly impossible. Korea boasted the highest number of Awakened individuals per capita, ensuring robust security against rifts and monsters.

Any detected rifts were swiftly handled by the Hunter Association within hours. They meticulously tracked mana traces, ensuring every escaped monster was eradicated. Even if tracking failed, uniquely shaped monsters were easily spotted and quickly dispatched.

But this monster was perfectly humanoid. Before its mutation, it was utterly indistinguishable from a human.

So, the video Shin Jae-woon had shown him on MeTube wasn’t fake or manipulated; it was the truth. If monsters could freely walk among humans, society would plunge into chaos once more.

‘This can’t be…’

At the very least, he needed to warn others about the presence of such a dangerous monster on the streets.

‘Sir, I think your fortune isn’t looking good today. So please, don’t overdo it today, go home early and get plenty of rest. Please.’

Yang Ho-jin’s words, spoken earlier, now struck him with a bitter clarity. Had he known, he would have heeded the fortune-teller’s advice instead of dismissing it.

But it was already too late.

The monster’s elongated arm had already pierced Shin Ji-ho’s left chest.