Chapter 34: The Stray That Chose Its Master

“Hmmm….”

Goo Min-ah slowly circled around the big dog sitting obediently with its tongue hanging out. Seong Ji-woo watched her nervously. No way…

“Do you know this dog?”

“Nope. Never seen it.”

All the strength drained from him.

“What? You were looking so closely I thought it was yours. There’s no collar or leash either. I checked.”

At first, he thought it was a pet that got lost during a walk, so he searched hard for clues like a collar or tag. But he found nothing. Yet it was too clean and glossy to be a stray. It wasn’t skinny or neglected.

It understood basic commands like sit and stay, and most of all—
it absolutely loved people.

“Maybe someone raised it off-leash?”

“Who raises a dog like that in a city?”

“Right… guess not. Shouldn’t we at least take it to the police station?”

“No—that won’t help.”

Min-ah straightened her back. The dog tilted its head innocently, clueless about the conversation.

“This looks like a divine beast.”

“……What?”

“A. Divine. Beast.”

She even enunciated each syllable as if he had misheard.

“That makes no sense!”

“Then you’re a divine-beast holder?”

“Of course not!”

Why on earth would a divine beast suddenly follow him home? Ji-woo stared, baffled. The dog rubbed its cheek against his leg, oblivious.

“But why does it follow you so well then?”

“…….”

Exactly his question. When he looked down, the dog gazed up at him with big, sparkling eyes. It looked dumb in a weirdly cute way that reminded him unmistakably of someone…

Woof! Woof woof!

Just then, a distant voice shouted:

“Hey! Keep that dog quiet!”

Not wanting more trouble, Ji-woo hurriedly rushed the dog back inside his house, mind spinning.

“A divine beast… seriously?”

Just then, Min-ah texted him:

[Pretty sure it’s a divine beast. Also, it already recognizes you as its owner. Raise it well. Gl hf.]

“What do you mean raise it well?! I just finished raising ONE!”

He barked back at the empty room. The dog licked his hand desperately, as if begging not to be abandoned.

“You picked the wrong owner, okay? I’m not a divine-beast user.”

The dog, obviously, didn’t understand a word. Ji-woo groaned, thinking hard, then finally gave up.

“Fine. Don’t blame me later. I might not be the kind of owner you want.”

Woof!

“…Anyway, what do you even eat?”

And thus began Ji-woo’s sudden, unwanted pet-owner life.

************

“Don’t you think this is getting old? How many farewells are you making me do?”

Ji-woo had assumed their big farewell dinner at the barbecue place was the last of it, but Lee Hye-rin had summoned him again. She insisted that once they entered the X-Gate, they wouldn’t see each other for nearly two years—did he really want to end things like that?
So Ji-woo, tired but obedient, came anyway.

The waiting area was packed with trainee hunters. Ji-woo glanced at their backs and briefly recalled his past life—but quickly pushed the memories away. He wouldn’t have to experience any of that again.

This time, even Park Soo-jin—the guildmaster of Knocker Guild—and Gam Joo-an had come, partly to say goodbye, partly to help Ji-woo with preparations for his new shop.

“If you finish your service and suddenly join another guild, I’ll sulk,” Park Soo-jin said childishly.

Min-ah replied dryly, “Okay.”

Hye-rin stared admiringly at Soo-jin’s huge, bear-like build, only to lose interest instantly when the guildmaster opened her mouth and shattered the cool image.

“Is she always like that?”

“Yeah. Soft heart. Here, take one.”

Ji-woo handed each of them a chocolate bar—the largest slab he could find. They accepted it awkwardly.

Why chocolate? Their eyes said.

“For emergencies.”

“How are we supposed to carry something this big?!”

Hye-rin protested—but later, Ji-woo heard that she finished hers in a week and survived off Min-ah and Yoon-jae’s bars when actual emergencies hit. Ji-woo said he’d expected it and was glad.
Inside gates, emergencies were more common than expected: getting separated, losing packs in battle, or supply drops arriving late.

And there was someone else he especially worried about.

“You know not to eat random stuff you find in the dungeon, right?”

“Huh?”

He grabbed Hye-rin’s arm, glaring.

“Of course. Why would I eat that?”

“You just… seem like you might.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll stop her,” Yoon-jae assured him.

Ji-woo sighed in relief.

“Take this.”

Min-ah tossed him a notebook.

“What’s this?”

“Notes about divine beasts.”

The first page contained divine-beast handling techniques, training methods, warnings, etc. Ji-woo nodded blankly.

“But… is my dog really a divine beast? Aside from acting weird at first, it’s just… a dog now.”

“Pretty sure. My divine beast told me.”

“What? Seriously?”

He stared in disbelief, but Min-ah simply nodded and waved coolly to the guildmaster.

“I’ll be back. Don’t let the guild collapse.”

“…I’ll try.”

“What do you mean try?! We’ll keep it running. Don’t worry and come back safe!”

Gam Joo-an scolded Soo-jin kindly.

“We’ll return safely!” Hye-rin said, waving brightly.

“Eat well and live well,” Min-ah added, tapping Ji-woo’s shoulder.

The three disappeared into the distance. Ji-woo watched them, unable to tear his eyes away until Park Soo-jin spoke.

“While they’re inside the Gate, you focus on making your business succeed.”

“Yeah…”

Ji-woo had a different mission in place of Gate service. He mentally counted how many years remained until the X-Gate explosion in the future.

Surely… Yoo Hee-ro won’t suddenly turn villain early. He’d better remember everything I told him…

But those worries faded quickly. He had far too many things to prepare—and Hee-ro soon didn’t even cross his mind.

***********

After Ji-woo graduated, Yoo Hee-ro spent the year waiting impatiently for time to pass. Without Ji-woo, there was no one left who could match him.

The once-ignored “useless” student was now the academy’s hope and prodigy. No one doubted he’d become one of the strongest hunters. Even blatant favoritism from teachers drew no complaints.

The ability-supremacy culture that once tormented him had completely reversed. He now enjoyed a place everyone envied—but he found everything about it boring.

He stared out the window during class, and his textbooks were full—not of notes, but of Seong Ji-woo’s name scribbled over and over.

Hyung must be inside the Gate by now…

To Hee-ro, Ji-woo fit the image of a true hero far more than he himself ever did. Ji-woo pretended otherwise, but whenever things went according to his calculations, his eyes sparkled like stars. His flushed cheeks always stole Hee-ro’s gaze.

But Hee-ro didn’t want him to become a hero.
He wanted Ji-woo to shine only in front of him.

Spring arrived, flowers bloomed outside, but none of it moved him. He remembered becoming Ji-woo’s mentee around this time last year. He wanted to go back. No—he wanted to stay there forever.

Then someone approached. He’d noticed them long ago but didn’t bother reacting—even when they spoke first.

“Um… Hee-ro, if you don’t have a partner for the practical class, maybe—”

“If I do?”

He cut the boy off coldly and blinked slowly, expression dull with annoyance. His eyes were chilling.

It was the former top student—until Hee-ro took that spot. A fire-type ability user with decent potential as a hunter.

He had seemed resentful for losing first place, but now he was swallowing his pride to ask Hee-ro to partner with him.

But Hee-ro wasn’t someone who cared about such things.

The boy flushed with embarrassment at the curt rejection.

“But… there’s no one on your list…”

“I have only one partner.”

“…….”

“And it’s obviously not you.”

Humiliated, the boy slunk back. Once again, he had zero chance at first place.

Though honestly, it was a blessing that Hee-ro partnered with no one. Even in a four-person team evaluation, he placed first—alone—by an overwhelming margin.

Eventually, no one dared ask him again.
Without handicaps, grouping him made the exercise pointless.

The days dragged on monotonously.

The research building had been restored over months, but the burned research data was gone forever.

A flaw in the “classified paperwork only” policy meant everything had been handwritten, with digital copies forbidden. Designed so accountability could always be denied.

They spent massive funds on security, yet two problems remained:
the culprit was internal, and the security system—packed with cutting-edge tech—did nothing against them.
A perfect crime with no evidence.

Hee-ro stared blankly at the building. His once-burning sense of betrayal and revenge had long since faded. He no longer cared. Something far more important remained.

“I think you’re good enough to rank top 3 in the country. But don’t slack just because I’m gone, okay? Work hard. Got it?”

Top 3.
Such a laughably low expectation—but he would follow Ji-woo’s words.

“The most important thing is peace. Protect peace. Understand?”

And he had to protect Ji-woo’s peace, too.

Oh, and there was one more thing—possibly the most important:

Clearing the X-Gate in the shortest time ever.

Since no one had succeeded yet, even decades would technically count as “shortest,” but Hee-ro had no intention of wasting more than three years.

He would catch up to Ji-woo, who was already ahead doing Gate service—and surprise him. Ji-woo would smile proudly, praise him, and hug him.

Dreaming of that day, Yoo Hee-ro endured the long year without Seong Ji-woo.