A dim, dark space.
Only the red and blue lights flickered faintly as a woman stared fixedly at the screen showing the Hunter’s footage.
Her name was Yoon Jihee.
She was a veteran reporter from Broadcasting Station 80, specializing exclusively in covering Hunter and Rift-related incidents.
“Sigh… something about this is seriously off.”
What Yoon Jihee was watching so intently were videos related to Rift No. 57.
The footage showed Hunter Shin Woojin emerging from the Rift and then giving a heartfelt interview in front of many reporters.
Yet, to Yoon Jihee, there was a strange dissonance in Shin Woojin’s words and actions in that interview.
It was hard to pinpoint exactly what felt wrong.
But when she saw him casually handing over one of the monster corpses he had painstakingly secured to Lee Hyungmo, something about the intent behind it felt different.
This was the intuition of a seasoned Hunter reporter who had been in the field for years.
Yoon Jihee continued to watch the next videos.
They showed Lee Hyungmo packing the corpse into a refrigerated truck, and Shin Woojin returning to the Rift Management Bureau after finishing the interview.
Nothing particularly suspicious, but there was one face that seemed quite out of place in this scenario.
Professor Shim Jaedeok.
Why was the professor from the Third Hunter Academy involved with this raid team?
The next footage showed the situation by the side of a highway where the refrigerated truck was stopped.
A damaged car had broken down, and the two brothers stepped out to check, then began changing a tire.
Suddenly, Lee Hyungmo, who had been smoking a cigarette, opened the car door and went inside.
About a minute passed.
Lee Hyungmo suddenly drew a sword and without hesitation beheaded Lee Hansu, who was completely unaware.
A spray of blood and a rolling head hit the ground.
Lee Hyungmo lifted the corpse back into the refrigerated truck, and nothing else unusual was seen in the video afterward.
“His eyes… they’re so dull…”
Yoon Jihee rewound the footage and stopped at the scene where Lee Hyungmo exited the truck.
She zoomed in on his face and stared closely at his eyes.
There was no focus in his pupils.
His expression, mouth slightly agape and dazed, was like someone dreaming.
“Well, moving on for now.”
Muttering to herself, Yoon Jihee skipped ahead.
The next footage featured Shin Woojin entering the Rift Management Bureau, and later, leaving late at night to head home.
These clips were all acquired through Yoon Jihee’s own funding by hiring paparazzi.
Skilled in tracking unusual scents, she attached people to every Hunter who returned alive as soon as the Rift incident occurred.
Now she began verifying the footage bought from the paparazzi.
The video showed Shin Woojin pulling his car out of a parking lot on a Sunday evening, stopping in front of a convenience store in the city to buy something.
Carrying two paper envelopes, Shin Woojin exited the store, opened the rear door of his car, and placed the items on the back seat.
Suddenly, someone approached him and they spoke briefly on the phone.
Then Shin Woojin got back into the driver’s seat and drove off, but Yoon Jihee paused the footage again.
“Usually, when driving alone, wouldn’t you place your phone on the passenger seat? This is strange too.”
Shaking her head, Yoon Jihee resumed the footage, which showed Shin Woojin stopping next to a trash can, opening the rear door, and throwing something away.
“Again, the back door. Why does he keep opening the back door?”
Finding this very odd, Yoon Jihee replayed the scene in slow motion where Shin Woojin opened the rear door and discarded the trash.
Leaning close to the screen, she stared intently.
Finally, something stood out to her.
“Wait…”
Yoon Jihee stopped the video at one frame.
She split the screen and displayed the frame from one second earlier alongside the current frame.
She carefully compared the height of the car’s tire.
Though there was nothing inside the car, the tire had been slightly pressed down one second earlier but was now subtly raised.
As if something heavy inside the car had gotten out, making it lighter.
Only Shin Woojin was visible in the footage, so how could the tire’s air pressure suddenly drop?
Feeling a chill of strangeness, Yoon Jihee switched back to the refrigerated truck footage and continued checking the tire’s status there.
She found the same phenomenon again.
About five minutes after Lee Hyungmo brought the corpse inside the truck, the tire subtly lifted, despite nothing visible on the screen.
This was clearly the effect of something inside the truck leaving and the weight becoming lighter.
“There’s a scent here…?”
Nothing was caught on camera, but the pressure on the tire had changed.
Only one explanation fit this situation.
A hidden presence—someone or something with stealth or possessing an artifact.
This strongly suggested the involvement of a third party.
Yoon Jihee immediately grabbed her phone and made a call.
“This is Yoon Jihee. We met briefly during the last interview, right? Yes, that’s right. You have a good memory. We only exchanged business cards then, which was a shame. I think it’d be good to arrange a meeting soon.”
After some quiet conversation on the other end, Yoon Jihee explained why she was calling.
“… It’s not about a report, but something I want to look into. Yes, it’s definitely related to the Academy. You collect information on the Hunter Academies too, right? Not the First, but the Third Hunter Academy. There’s Professor Shim Jaedeok there, and I’m curious why he suddenly got involved in the No. 57 Rift raid… Yes?”
Suddenly, Yoon Jihee’s eyes widened.
As she responded quietly with “yes, yes,” a smile curled up on one side of her mouth.
“So, originally a first-year student from that raid was supposed to participate, but due to personal reasons, they withdrew? And Professor Shim was the supervising professor for that? Is that correct?”
Though she didn’t know who she was talking to, the person on the other end clearly knew a lot about the Hunter Academy’s internal affairs.
“Could you tell me who that student with personal reasons is?”
Yoon Jihee asked and listened intently.
A deeper smile spread across her face.
“Go Hanseok? The first-year student who lacked the necessary combat skills, used sedatives on a hell demon’s bodily fluids, and got into fights with scavengers? Yes, yes. Oh, really? And a few days before that, he got punched by a classmate during practice and got injured? That’s surprising. The classmate who did that is an elite, right?”
After listening for a while, Yoon Jihee thanked her contact and ended the call.
Satisfied, she tapped the frozen screen lightly with her fingers and smiled coldly.
“I wonder how far the ripple effects of this case will spread. This is getting interesting. Looks like I’m going to be busy for a while. Heh heh.”
She quickly gathered her things and left the video analysis room at Broadcasting Station 580.
*****
“Wow… this is the best meal I’ve ever had!”
Joo Gwangsik ate so greedily that he couldn’t even wipe the rice off the corners of his mouth.
The braised short ribs melted softly the moment they entered his mouth, and the japchae was perfectly balanced between savory and sweet, greatly whetting his appetite.
He swallowed everything almost without pause.
Kim Seojun knew well how skilled Baek Yeonji was in cooking, but judging by Joo Gwangsik’s expression, it was as if he had just experienced heaven.
This guy’s reactions are impressive.
Thanks to his enthusiastic response, Baek Yeonji even clapped her hands in delight.
Anyway, the meal lasted about an hour.
Afterwards, Kim Seojun and Joo Gwangsik sat in the living room, drinking coffee and talking.
As expected, Joo Gwangsik babbled nonstop like a machine gun, while Kim Seojun just smiled awkwardly and listened.
“… Really amazing, huh? You’ll be shocked when you meet our Ho Sung hyung.”
Joo Gwangsik praised Yoo Hoseong, whom he practically raised himself, to no end.
Then, suddenly, he stopped talking.
He paced back and forth in the living room until he came to a halt in front of a wall adorned with family photos.
“Hey, Kim Seojun. This person here… is this your dad?”
Joo Gwangsik pointed at a photo of eight-year-old Kim Seojun smiling brightly with a toy gun on his neck, with Kim Juhyeok standing behind him.
“Then, is that your dad’s older brother?”
“Really… is that really your dad?”
Joo Gwangsik looked astonished.
Kim Seojun became curious why he was so shocked recognizing Kim Juhyeok’s face.
“Do you know my father?”
Joo Gwangsik nodded vigorously.
His expression was filled with tenderness as he gently stroked the photo of Kim Juhyeok.
“Yes, my father… I met him nine years ago.”
What followed was a story Kim Seojun hadn’t expected at all.