Far from the frontline chaos, in a dark, lavish room filled with the scent of aged wood and incense, Kang Juwon awoke with a harsh gasp, drenched in sweat.

  The guild master of Moon Guild, known for his elegant manners and cold charm, now sat upright on his bed, irritation furrowing his brows.

  Kang Juwon sat in the dimly lit room of his luxurious apartment, the faint glow of the city skyline barely reaching through the thick curtains.

  His posture was perfect, the image of a refined gentleman: sharp suit, meticulously styled hair, and eyes that seemed to pierce through any facade.

  Yet beneath that polished exterior was something far more sinister, a shadow that clung to him like a second skin.

  He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. The nightmare had returned again, vivid, disjointed flashes of a past life he couldn’t fully recall but felt like a heavy chain wrapped tightly around his soul.

  He was haunted by a feeling that he had forgotten something crucial, something that once shaped his entire existence.

  A gnawing loss, an unfamiliar anger, and a sting of self-blame simmered inside him, leaving him restless and helpless.

  With a frustrated sigh, Kang Juwon reached for the remote and flicked on the television.

  The screen immediately burst to life with a barrage of news reports and headlines, all revolving around one name: Lee Aseok, the so-called “Chosen Hero.”

  The world was spinning out of control because of him.

  The news anchors spoke in urgent tones, voices echoing through the room.

  “Lee Aseok has once again shattered records by clearing an S-rank gate in under two hours.”

  “Businesses are reeling as gate products flood the market with unprecedented speed, and profits are plummeting.”

  “Public opinion remains divided as Lee Aseok’s relentless pace disrupts the delicate balance of gate-related industries worldwide.”

  Kang Juwon’s eyes narrowed as the screen flashed images of Lee Aseok, the elusive hunter who seemed to defy all expectations.

  Most pictures were grainy and taken from a distance, showing a stoic figure with the unmistakable holy sword slung across his back and a small puppy trotting faithfully at his side.

  The reporters struggled to capture clear shots; Lee Aseok was a ghost, always moving, never staying in one place long enough to be cornered for an interview.

  Despite the chaos his actions caused, Kang Juwon felt a twisted fascination stir within him.

  Even without memory of the past life, Kang sensed a magnetic pull, an undeniable interest he couldn’t explain.

  He paused the TV when Lee Aseok’s image filled the screen, the man’s expression unreadable as usual, his eyes cold yet somehow distant.

  Kang Juwon rubbed his temples and leaned back in his chair, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips.

  Kang Juwon found himself unable to resist the man fully.

  There was something about Lee Aseok’s relentless nature, his cold determination, and that tiny, loyal puppy that softened the edges of his animosity.

  Maybe it was envy. Or maybe it was the remnant of a dark connection neither of them fully understood.

  It was no small feat to photograph Lee Aseok. The man was a ghost, constantly moving from one gate to another, appearing only briefly before vanishing without a trace.

  Reporters who dared approach him for interviews rarely got more than a cold shoulder.

  Some, foolishly persistent ones, even came dangerously close to losing limbs, or worse, when Lee Aseok’s iron rod found them for wasting his time.

  Thankfully, Mu Yichen was usually nearby to defuse these tense moments, steering reporters away before things escalated. Ever since, media teams had learned their lesson: keep your distance. Far, far away.

  Kang Juwon chuckled low and darkly, his eyes never leaving the screen. “Reporters have it all wrong,” he murmured. “This isn’t just a hero. This is a force of nature.”

  He admired the images on the screen, the way Lee Aseok’s long black hair flowed like a shadow behind him, the rare reddish-brown eyes that seemed to pierce through the very soul, and the cold, lazy aura that clung to him like a second skin.

  No matter where he went, no matter the distance from the cameras, Lee Aseok stood out.

  There was a magnetic allure to him, an almost dangerous beauty that pulled attention even from the most indifferent bystander.

  Kang’s ruthless heart seemed to calm as he stared.

  It was as if every question, every gnawing doubt he’d ever had, was somehow answered by simply looking at this enigmatic figure.

  A slow grin crept onto Kang Juwon’s lips. He wasn’t a man to be denied, and deep down, he knew he would get what he wanted from Lee Aseok, no matter the cost.

  Kang Juwon flicked off the TV and stood, stretching with a deliberate grace. Despite his irritation, he couldn’t shake the curiosity.

  “Who exactly is this Lee Aseok?” he muttered to himself. “What secret does he hold that makes him so unstoppable?”

  That nagging feeling returned, the sense that Kang Juwon was tangled in a story far larger than himself, one with threads reaching back to a forgotten past neither he nor Lee Aseok fully understood.

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  Meanwhile, the chaos around Lee Aseok’s name escalated daily.

  Business magnates grumbled in smoky boardrooms, furious at the disruption of their lucrative gate product trade.

  For years, these elites had controlled the flow of gate items, reaping vast profits from the painstaking process of gate clearing and core destruction.

  Then came Lee Aseok, clearing gates faster than anyone dared imagine.

  Less than two hours to dismantle high-ranking gates, leaving no core debris behind, no chance for new gates to spawn from shattered energy. The ripple effect was catastrophic.

  Factories stalled. Markets crashed. Rumors flew.

  And the public was left caught in the middle, torn between reverence and resentment for the hero who seemed to be tearing their world apart single-handedly.

  In a quiet corner of the city, Lee Aseok sat atop a crumbling rooftop, the city’s chaotic glow flickering beneath him like a restless sea.

  The puppy nestled against his side, already dozing off after a day spent in battle.

  Lee Aseok glanced down at the iron rod resting beside him, still stained with monster blood, still humming faintly with the mysterious energy he alone knew how to absorb.

  The world might be in chaos, but to him, it was just another puzzle piece falling into place.

  Far below, the distant roar of another gate’s monsters stirred the city’s uneasy peace. Lee Aseok’s eyes gleamed with quiet satisfaction.

  The chaos was only beginning.

  And the world didn’t know it yet, but they were all caught in the web of a man who wielded power that no one could imagine.

  Meanwhile, around the world, the ripple effects of Lee Aseok’s actions stirred more than just chaos.

  High-ranking gate products, once a prized commodity, now flooded markets too quickly to control.

  Companies that had once thrived on careful gate exploitation found themselves scrambling for survival.

  Governments debated policies in emergency meetings, trying to keep pace with the whirlwind that was Lee Aseok’s gate-clearing frenzy.

  On social media, hashtags alternated wildly between #HeroOrTyrant and #SaveOurGates.

  People joked nervously about how one man had “ruined the game” for everyone else, though some admired him for it in secret.

  Meanwhile, on the other side of the country, the so-called center of the world was very busy… feeding a puppy.

  Lee Aseok sat cross-legged on the cracked concrete of a demolished outpost near their temporary base.

  With one hand, he flicked bits of dried meat into the air for Pudding, the fluffy husky who currently had its teeth latched onto the scabbard of the holy sword like it was the last chew toy on Earth.

  The sword, in return, buzzed with holy indignation, glowing faintly near it.

  Pudding ignored it completely.

  Lee Aseok, as usual, looked bored out of his mind.

  A few meters away, Seo MinHyun was dramatically slumped over the car hood, groaning like someone who’d just been told his favorite influencer got canceled.

  “I can’t take it anymore,” Seo whined. “He didn’t even look at me when I said good morning. I wore my best cologne today, He Ziqin! My best cologne!”

  He Ziqin, newly returned from his blessed two-day break, offered a sympathetic smile as he held two mana potions in each hand like offerings to the gods.

  “At least he spoke to you. All I got was ‘Teleport.’ No ‘Hey, how’ve you been, He Ziqin.’ No ‘Nice to see you alive, He Ziqin.’ Just—boom—back to being a human Uber.”

  Seo gave him a deadpan look. “You are a human Uber.”

  “Exactly!” He Ziqin cried, guzzling a potion like it was emotional support juice. “At least pretend I’m not!”

  Park Taegun, who was sharpening his dagger nearby, sighed. “Complaining won’t stop the next dungeon.”

  Seo gestured wildly. “Do you want to go into another one? He hasn’t rested in 29 hours, Taegun! I timed it! Even the puppy’s starting to show signs of burnout and that thing has never paid taxes!”

  As if on cue, Pudding let go of the scabbard with a yawn and stumbled over to Lee Aseok, flopping into his lap with the force of a sack of rice.

  Lee absentmindedly scratched its ear, not even blinking when the sword vibrated in frustration behind him.

  Mu Yichen leaned against the car, arms crossed, his usually composed face showing the cracks of someone who had seen too much.

  “He’s… efficient,” Mu said, voice as strained as a diplomat trying to explain a warzone to a reporter.

  Seo rounded on him. “Efficient?! He cleared three B-rank dungeons in one hour yesterday. And then looked at me like I was the unreasonable one for asking if we could stop for food!”

  “We did stop,” Taegun pointed out.

  “Yeah, for the dog!” Seo snapped.

  At that moment, Lee Aseok stood, lifting Pudding easily with one arm. “Teleport.”

  He Ziqin groaned like a man being drafted into war. “Again?”

  Lee didn’t respond. He never did. He just looked at people until they complied.

  With a puff of glowing light, they appeared in front of a crumbling A-rank dungeon, its entrance swirling with dark mist. The wind howled. Monsters growled. The team sighed.

  And standing at the edge of the portal, like a final boss pretending to be a gentleman, was Kang Juwon.

  The sky above the A-rank dungeon was a swirl of gray clouds and shimmering gate energy. A wind blew, sharp and uneasy, like it too knew something strange was about to happen.

  Mu Yichen stood at the front of the group, arms crossed, a crease between his brows.

  He didn’t say anything, but the way his jaw clenched said more than enough. He didn’t like the man standing before them.

  “Why is he here?” Seo MinHyun muttered under his breath, glancing nervously at Park Taegun.

  Taegun didn’t reply right away. His hand drifted to the shield, eyes narrowed as if gauging distance for a future attack. “That’s Kang Juwon. Guild master of Moon Guild, he visited us a while ago with Yichen’s mother.”

  “No, no, I know who he is,” Seo hissed. “I’m asking why the hell he’s here in person. Isn’t he supposed to be sipping expensive coffee and threatening CEOs or something?”

  Mu Yichen didn’t answer. He was too focused on the man in the sleek black suit ahead.

  Kang Juwon always smiled politely. Always spoke with grace. Always maintained the image of a polished, benevolent leader.

  And yet.

  Every time Mu Yichen looked at him, his skin crawled.

  Something about Kang Juwon felt... wrong.

  But none of them had time to process that because right then, Lee Aseok calmly handed Pudding to He Ziqin, who had just finished chugging a mana potion like an athlete in a sports commercial.

  “A-Are you going in already?” He Ziqin asked, juggling the wiggling husky as it tried to jump back toward the holy sword. “Wait, we just got here! Aseok, at least tell me the gate’s rating!”

  But Lee Aseok didn’t reply. He didn’t acknowledge Kang Juwon.

  Didn’t acknowledge anyone, really.

  He simply turned and started walking toward the gate as if everything behind him was just background noise.

  Kang Juwon’s lips twitched.

  Being ignored by Lee Aseok wasn’t new. But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting.

  Especially when he had waited here specifically for him.

  With his signature unbothered grace, Kang stepped forward and blocked Lee Aseok’s path. Everyone collectively held their breath.

  “Aseok,” Kang said gently, his voice honeyed but firm. “You look tired. You should rest.”

  Lee Aseok stopped, looked at him. Slowly.

  His reddish-brown eyes were dull, empty, and utterly uninterested in Kang Juwon’s existence.

  “I said,” Lee Aseok replied, “Move.”

  Kang didn’t flinch. But the faintest frown crept across his forehead.

  Mu Yichen’s fingers tightened.

  Seo MinHyun muttered, “Why do I feel like we’re about to witness a diplomatic incident?”

  Then Kang turned, his polite expression slipping into sharpness as he looked at Mu Yichen and his group.

  “Why aren’t you letting him rest?” Kang asked coldly, voice soft like silk hiding a knife. “Are you forcing him to move like this?”

  Mu Yichen’s face darkened, but before anyone could respond, Lee Aseok’s hand suddenly shot out, and grabbed Kang Juwon’s wrist.

  Everything stopped.

  Kang blinked in surprise.

  He Ziqin nearly dropped the dog.

  Seo MinHyun physically stepped back, gasping, “No way, he touched him?!”

  Lee Aseok’s grip was firm but not aggressive. His expression didn’t change.

  But there was something in his voice when he spoke that sent shivers down everyone’s spines.

  “Your skill,” Lee Aseok said flatly, “is quite powerful.”

  Kang stared at him. “My… skill?”

  Lee Aseok’s lips curled slightly, not into a smile, but something far more unsettling.

  A smirk. A knowing one. The kind that suggested he saw through everything.

  “Your illusion skill,” Aseok continued, still gripping his wrist. “It’s useful. Very useful.”

  That single word—useful—rang like a death knell.

  Author Note:

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