Chapter 44: A Risky Proposition

#44

was a skill that rectified everything twisted. Within it lay the latent power to make all things harmonious, to meticulously reweave tangled threads into a balanced whole, causing what was not its own to ultimately become so.

Conversely, could only be activated on a creature of the same rank. By its very nature, Dokyeom should have only been able to use on the lowest-ranked E-grade monsters. It was a skill utterly unrelated to Agon.

Yet, now, such a skill was interlocked with another, shining brightly. The meaning conveyed by this resonating skill, as if it had found a long-lost partner, would have been strange not to notice.

It urged him forward.

Go on, try it.

Dokyeom raised his head, his gaze fixed on the shimmering water surface. The gentle lapping of the water made him ponder many things.

It was time to confirm it now: the interaction of these two skills, and the outcome they would bring.

****

Gates served as training grounds for Hunters, established as a crucial stepping stone for the ‘Mythical Revival.’ They were also places where the individual histories of the Constellations were dramatically reenacted.

To infuse their games with greater zest, the Constellations desired Hunters who would not perish easily. For this reason, they dedicated five years to nurturing these Hunters. Throughout that half-decade, Gates emerged, vanished, and were maintained across the world, solely for the purpose of training them.

These Gates were the direct products of the Constellations, crafted with the potent energy of ‘Holy Relics.’ Inside, one might find a monstrous nest, a vivid recreation of a Constellation’s past, or even an isolated, anomalous space born from a glitch.

Five years passed in this manner. The Constellations, having trained Hunters through the Gates, now slowly began to reveal their true intentions: to fully resume their grand games. This coincided with Hunters’ ranks stabilizing to a certain degree and the entire world gradually accepting the logic of the ‘Mythical Revival.’

Soon, a ‘Grand History’ would descend upon the world, signaling the spectacular opening of their game.

Gates and ‘Grand History’ were distinctly different. While the historical reenactments within Gates were confined to individual Constellations, ‘Grand History’ involved countless Constellations, its scale immense enough to engulf an entire city like Seoul.

Crucially, ‘Grand History’ manifested by exerting a profound ‘influence’ upon the world itself.

Knock-knock.

A knock echoed through the quiet CEO’s office, announcing a visitor.

“Come in,”

Taeseongyeon said, checking his schedule on a tablet. The one who swung the door open and entered with a burst of energy was a pale man, his shoulders hunched as if his neck was bothering him.

Taeseongyeon set down his tablet, leaning back in his chair and pressing a thumb to his temple.

“You look uncomfortable… What is it, Han Dokyeom?”

“No, it’s just… Ha, I’ve got a stiff neck.”

A stiff neck? He quickly searched for the meaning of the word within ‘Taeseongyeon’s’ memories. A short gasp escaped his lips, but Taeseongyeon soon curved his eyes into a smile, startling the other man.

“Come here. I’ll loosen it for you.”

“No thanks. Did I leave something with you? Why are you always ordering me around?”

His eyes, sharply upturned at the corners, scoured Taeseongyeon from head to toe. His fiercely furrowed brows were equally unyielding.

Dokyeom had already let out a cry of pain that morning, having slept curled up with his shoulders hunched, held motionless in Agon’s embrace all night. He had stayed completely still, conceding to the growling discomfort that arose with even the slightest movement, and couldn’t believe he’d gotten a stiff neck as a Hunter.

Patting his shoulder, where a pain patch was affixed, Dokyeom let out a long sigh. Then, as if intending to resolve matters swiftly, he looked at Taeseongyeon and immediately got to the point.

“I’ve brought the Authority, just as I said, so now it’s your turn to show some sincerity, Taeseongyeon. Whether you draw up a separate contract, or state it verbally with witnesses, let’s properly stipulate that you’ll cooperate with me.”

It would be problematic to consider the ‘Guild Contract’ Taeseongyeon had given Dokyeom as cooperation. More than that, Dokyeom wanted Taeseongyeon to take direct action.

Taeseongyeon was someone who became more advantageous the more he moved. Although Dokyeom disliked admitting it, Taeseongyeon’s negotiation skills and ability to assess situations were exceptional, making him capable of coolly preparing for future events and cooperating better than anyone.

Of course, a faint sense of bewilderment still lingered. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Taeseongyeon hadn’t always exuded such a heavy, substantial aura.

The Taeseongyeon he remembered was quick to act and decisive, but also overly ostentatious and self-righteous, blindly trusting his own abilities until they led to his demise. Now, however, it was impossible to discern his true intentions. He felt profound, so much so that it was like a mythical Imoogi, not merely a snake, had taken root within him.

‘Am I misremembering Taeseongyeon?’

Just as that thought crossed his mind, Taeseongyeon’s refined eyes, which met his, slowly closed and then reopened.

“Before that, let me ask you something first. How did you know?”

“Let’s speak clearly, Taeseongyeon.”

“Let’s assume you knew the Authority’s location through a related Constellation skill. Even so, not even a Constellation would have a way to know the *type* of Authority, would they? So, by what trick did you manage to find that out?”

A muscle beneath Dokyeom’s eye twitched subtly. The other man’s eyes, devoid of their previous smile, were quite severe. The hand that had been pressing his temple now rested under his chin, observing Dokyeom as if he were a spectacle.

As Taeseongyeon said, unless one was a ‘Supervisor’ directly bestowing Authorities, even individual Constellations couldn’t discern the *type* of Authority. While the general location of an Authority’s manifestation might be roughly discovered through the powers of Constellations with detection or precognition skills, what kind of Authority it was—whether it was one of the Seven Deadly Sins or the Seven Virtues—remained thoroughly veiled.

Taeseongyeon was pointing this out: ‘How do you know information that even Constellations are unaware of?’

In this scenario, it also implied that Taeseongyeon possessed a deep, fundamental understanding of this ‘Mythical Revival’ game.

“Then how do *you* know, Taeseongyeon? Even if we concede the location, you don’t know the type? Why are you so certain, you who seem to know everything? I don’t know what makes you so confident about what skills I might have, but not all skills are Constellation skills.”

“Han Dokyeom.”

“Yes?”

Dokyeom asked, meeting his gaze directly. Taeseongyeon’s fingertips tapped the armrest. Amidst the strange silence, Taeseongyeon lowered his voice to a tone that felt almost magnanimous as he inquired.

“I am asking if you, Han Dokyeom, can continue to locate specific Authorities in the future.”

“What if I can?”

He couldn’t be certain, but he was confident. Of course, this was assuming the future hadn’t changed.

After all, what Taeseongyeon desired was the Authority of the Seven Deadly Sins of the demons. Unlike the Angels’ Authorities, which required concentration to exert power, the demons’ Authorities could manifest special power even when dispersed, making them attractive prey for many Hunters.

“Soon, another Authority will descend upon Korea. But,”

Dokyeom smiled, looking directly at Taeseongyeon. Then, as if driving in a wedge, he continued.

“That one will also be an Authority you absolutely despise, Taeseongyeon.”

His eyes, dripping with a characteristic sharpness, stared directly at Taeseongyeon in a defiant challenge. A heavy silence hung in the air, and Taeseongyeon tilted his head slightly. Just then, a fleeting smile touched his seemingly cold face.

Knock-knock.

The knock instantly dispelled the heavy atmosphere. The door opened, and a secretary entered the CEO’s office, carrying a tray with a clinking sound. Two steaming teacups were the source of the noise.

Sensing the tense atmosphere, the secretary silently placed the teacups on the table and hurried out without a sound. It was as if they were fleeing, fearing sparks might fly.

As soon as the door closed, a neutralized air lingered around them. Taeseongyeon was the first to speak.

“Drink up. Believe it or not, I prepared this with you in mind, Han Dokyeom.”

Taeseongyeon said softly, wearing his usual smile. His politely curved eyes now exuded a tenderness, as if nothing tense had just happened. Dokyeom’s cheek twitched as he picked up the steaming cup without even glancing at it.

He watched Taeseongyeon warily as he brought the cup to his lips. It was merely a tonic, after all.

Dokyeom’s face briefly scrunched up at the bitter taste, while Taeseongyeon also reached for his cup. Unlike Dokyeom, his gaze was neatly fixed on the teacup.

‘What should I do?’

Dokyeom pondered for a moment. He had previously used on Taeseongyeon. The fact that he’d lost his memory immediately after using the skill indicated something was amiss, but he hadn’t determined if it was a side effect of mana depletion or a skill rejection response toward an S-grade individual.

Or perhaps, because the target was S-grade, it consumed more mana, causing him to lose consciousness as if a fuse had blown.

Unlike last time, his condition was good, and his mana was full. Dokyeom felt a sudden urge to try again now that he had the opportunity.

His wavering mind gradually leaned towards attempting it, and eventually, that decision became quite firm.

The opportunity arrived faster than expected. It was when Taeseongyeon brought the teacup to his lips and briefly lowered his gaze.

Seizing the opening, Dokyeom used the skill with the cup still at his mouth.

‘‘

A black current, like a heat haze, coiled above Taeseongyeon’s head. It didn’t take long for the sand-like particles to coalesce. Just a little more.

The mana depleting as if his blood was being drained was extraordinary. It was just as the letters were solidifying into a cohesive mass. Suddenly, sparks flickered before Dokyeom’s eyes as he watched the letters, clenching his molars.

He should have stopped then. Instead of foolishly wondering, ‘What is this?’ But by the time he sensed something was wrong, it was already too late.