Light within the Broken Mirror - AegirTheSeaTitan (2024)

Chapter 1: Act 1: Crack in the Mirror I

Chapter Text

The rhythmic sound of their footsteps echoed as Jin-Ho walked the expansive hallway of the testing facility, his grey eyes sweeping across the sleek reception area. The facility itself was a marvel of modern architecture, with high ceilings and walls of glass that allowed natural light to flood the space. The floors were polished marble, reflecting the light and adding a sense of grandeur to the surroundings. Large digital screens displayed information about the testing process, while sleek, metallic sculptures added an artistic touch to the otherwise sterile environment.

Jin-Ho's boyish face, framed by custard-colored hair shaved on all sides, contrasted sharply with the imposing figures flanking him. Their confident strides and the whispers that followed their progress through the hall drew attention from all sides. Recruiters from small and middle Guilds couldn't help but mutter as they watched the trio pass by.

“Tsk, another rich kid,” one murmured, his lips curling into a sneer.

“Well, what did you expect? People like him are only here for bragging rights,” another chimed in, shaking his head in disapproval.

“Heh, he’ll likely be joining those conglomerate Guilds owned by his rich parents,” a third added, rolling his eyes.

Ignoring the mutters, Jin-Ho made his way to the registration desk at the end of the hall. The receptionist, a young woman with her hair tied into a ponytail, was engrossed in her phone, tapping away with a slight frown on her face. Beside her, an Association Hunter stood, his posture rigid and his face betraying his desire to be anywhere but here.

“Ahem,” Jin-Ho coughed to get her attention, his voice wavering slightly. His hand moved nervously, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve.

Startled, the receptionist looked up, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of Jin-Ho and his entourage. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and she squeaked in embarrassment, hastily tucking her phone below the desk.

“S-sorry, how may I help you?” she stammered, her voice tinged with shame. She cast a nervous glance at the two big men behind Jin-Ho, who were staring at her with stern expressions.

“I’m here to register as a Hunter, along with this guy,” Jin-Ho replied, gesturing toward Dong-Soo. Dong-Soo smirked in amusem*nt, crossing his arms, his eyes twinkling behind his sunglasses as he watched the receptionist’s flustered reaction. His lips curled into a slight grin, enjoying the effect his presence had on her.

“Ah, I see,” she nodded, regaining some composure. A faint blush spread across her cheeks as she straightened her posture. "I'll need your proof of identity and contact information," she said, her voice a bit steadier.

Jin-Ho glanced at Dong-Suk, who gave a slight nod and reached into his jacket with a firm, fluid motion. “Here,” the scarred man gruffly said as he produced a photocopied picture of his younger brother and boss's IDs, as well as their birth certificates, placing them on the desk with a firm thud. The receptionist jumped slightly at the sound, her eyes widening momentarily before she recovered.

She looked them over carefully, her eyes darting between the documents and the imposing figures in front of her. Satisfied, she placed the documents aside and reached for a stack of forms beside her computer. She picked up the top forms. “Can you also fill out these forms for me? I’ll need to input some additional information into the system,” she said, handing them the forms with a nervous smile.

Glancing through the form, Jin-Ho saw that it was a standard identification registration. He took two forms, handing one to Dong-Soo. They quickly filled out the forms, their pens moving in sync. Jin-Ho's movements were precise and controlled, each stroke of the pen deliberate and neat. In contrast, Dong-Soo filled his form with a casual, almost lazy air, his pen gliding effortlessly across the paper.

As they wrote, Jin-Ho’s brow furrowed in concentration, his grey eyes narrowing slightly. Dong-Soo, on the other hand, wore a faint, amused smile, occasionally glancing up at the receptionist, who was trying her best not to stare.

When they passed the forms back to the receptionist, she quickly scanned them, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she began typing their information into the system. Her eyes flicked between the screen and the forms, a look of intense focus on her face. She bit her lip slightly, trying to avoid any mistakes under the watchful gaze of the two men.

“All right, you’re all set,” she said, finally sending the file. She turned toward them with a polite smile, her cheeks still slightly flushed. She handed them their assigned numbers with a small, nervous bow. “You’ll be called to enter the testing room when it’s your turn.”

Jin-Ho inspected the number handed to him [25] before checking the one assigned to Dong-Soo [26]. “Miss, is it possible for both of us to enter the test room together?” he asked, his voice polite but firm. He didn’t want to be separated from his bodyguard.

The receptionist looked at Jin-Ho before glancing at her colleague standing nearby, who merely shrugged in response. “There’s no rule saying you can’t be accompanied… so I guess you can,” she said, her voice wavering as she struggled to remember the exact guidelines.

“Thank you,” Jin-Ho said, bowing slightly. He turned away from the desk, his shoulders relaxing as he stepped back into the hall.

“Anyways, the wait is over there,” she pointed at the waiting area where rows of metal gang chairs were lined up with people seated on them. Some were fidgeting nervously, others were engaged in quiet conversation. The air was thick with anticipation and anxiety.

As Jin-Ho and the Hwang siblings made their way to the waiting area, he noticed the varied reactions of the other testers. Some stared openly, their eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Others quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in their own affairs. A few even vacated their seats, moving away from the trio as if proximity alone might spell trouble.

Jin-Ho sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He could hardly fault them; people from lower-class families often went out of their way to avoid any dealings with Chaebols like himself. The eldest patted his shoulder reassuringly, his smirk softening into a more genuine smile.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Dong-Suk said quietly. “We’re here for the test, not to make friends.”

Jin-Ho nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right.” He glanced around the room, noting the tension in the air. “Let’s just get this over with.”

With that, they settled into their seats, The bustling activity of the association continued around them as they waited for their turn. His gaze occasionally flickered to the digital display indicating the testing numbers, a small frown creasing his brow as he silently calculated how long he had to wait for their turn.

“Next, please come inside,” called a woman as she opened the door to let in the next tester, who looked jittery as he entered.

Jin-Ho watched the anxious man enter, a sigh escaping his lips. He understood the weight of the moment for the poor fellow. Life as a hunter hinged entirely on the rank one awakened to. Some people's fortunes changed overnight with a high rank, but for the majority, the outcome was bleak. Once branded with a lowly E-rank, one was doomed to remain at the bottom, fighting for scraps until the end of their days.

His gaze drifted back to the entrance, where the various recruiters who had mocked him earlier still lingered. He recalled the posts he had read on the Hunter Forums, detailing the grim reality of the Hunter profession. If you awakened as a D-rank or lower, you were likely to be picked off by agents from minor guilds prowling the testing area or forced to go solo, hoping that whatever raiding team you joined wouldn’t leave you for dead.

These low-ranked hunters faced the highest mortality rates, and the minor guilds constantly needed replacements for those lost in the dungeons. It was a grim and desperate cycle, driven by the insatiable need for money. The practice was ruthless, but in a world where survival often hinged on income, morality took a back seat.

"Nervous, boss?" Dong-Soo said as he lowered his sunglasses, his piercing gaze locking onto Jin-Ho. The older man's playful tone couldn't mask the underlying concern in his eyes. "Afraid your rank will end up like them?"

Jin-Ho swallowed hard, his fingers fidgeting restlessly. "No," he muttered, but his voice lacked conviction. He could feel the intensity of their stares boring into him, forcing him to confront his own fear. "Okay, maybe I'm a bit nervous," he finally admitted, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"It's just... whatever rank I get will determine if I can leave that godforsaken household," Jin-Ho continued, his voice trembling as he exhaled a shaky breath.

Memories of his childhood home flooded his mind, a place that felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. The oppressive weight of his father's expectations had loomed over him since he was young, and the constant degradation from his older brother had chipped away at his sanity. He often felt like a prisoner in his own life, suffocated by the relentless pressure to succeed.

Despite the countless pressures he endured, he was thankful to have met his two loyal guards. Hwang Dong-Suk and Hwang Dong-Soo, both petty thieves at the time, were caught by the Yoo family's bodyguards for trying to steal from his older brother Jin-Sung. Jin-Ho pitied the sorry state they were left in, as his older brother was so angry that he ordered the guards to beat the brothers black and blue. The memory of their battered bodies lying on the cold ground, bruised and bloodied, flashed before his eyes. They were left at death’s doorstep, and if it weren’t for his intervention, they would have died.

Jin-Ho had asked them their reasoning for stealing from his brother, and their only reply was that they wanted money to fill their bellies. He felt sorry for them then and there and decided that since they were able to slip past the countless guards and were able to steal from his brother, they would make the perfect bodyguards for him. They had been skeptical at first, their eyes wary and filled with distrust. But through his persuasion and the promise of a better life, they had agreed. Who could resist having free food and a roof over their heads?

His brother had been furious, his face red with rage, but his father just looked at him and said it was his problem to deal with. Though his father did pay them for being better at the job than actual trained professionals. Jin-Ho could still recall the slight nod of approval his father gave, a rare acknowledgment of his decision.

“Eh don’t think too much about it” the elder chimed in as raised his hand to ruffle the younger man’s hair “You and my dongsaeng ain’t like little old me” Dong-Suk said as Jin-Ho could feel the man’s mana mingle with his.

Dong-Suk was right, compared to the older C-rank, Jin-Ho’s was far larger.

“At best you’re likely an A-ranker and a B at worse” the scarred man grinned “And this little sh*t is even stronger than the both of us,” he said as he pointed towards Dong-Soo.

“Oy!” the younger cried out in indignation a thick forming in his face.

Dong-Suk ignored his dongsaeng “With us three, making a Guild won’t be difficult. And your father won’t have any say in it” he grinned.

Huffing Jin-Ho conceded to that. It seemed his worries got the better of him, still the problem remains, however. If his older brother might do something malicious just cause Jin-Ho awakened and he didn’t, Jinsung was quite an insecure man.

“Ugh!”

Just then, the door opened again, and the jittery man from earlier emerged, head hung low, an air of depression radiating from him. Those who saw him despaired even more. Looking at the monitor [25], it seemed it was their turn next.

Jin-Ho stood up and motioned for them to follow. They complied without a word, as they passed the dejected man.

“Next!” the woman called once more. As her eyes landed on Jin-Ho, she noticed the two others following him. “Ah sir, only one person can enter at a time,” she said as she eyed the two imposing men. “I kindly ask that you let your men wait until you’re done,” she said softly but firmly as she stared at the chaebol in front of her.

“Can’t we both get tested?” Jin-Ho said as he gestured towards Dong-Soo. “The lady at the front desk said there wasn’t any rule about having a companion. And this guy over here”—now pointing at Dong-Suk—“is just here under my father’s orders. He’s legally obligated to watch over the testing.” Jin-Ho lied through his teeth. Dong-Suk was only there because he didn’t want to stay in the Yoo Guild, as the man didn’t want to deal with the current Guild Leader… that being his brother.

The woman looked at them before sighing. “Damn Chaebols,” she muttered before opening the door fully to let the trio in. Jin-Ho felt his ears burn; it wasn’t a hard request, yet it seemed that the woman mistook it as him being spoiled. Did it look like it?

As they entered the room, Jin-Ho noticed the walls were lined with advanced monitors and intricate machinery, all designed to measure and evaluate the latent abilities of awakened individuals. The hum of electronic equipment filled the air, mingling with the soft flicker of fluorescent lights.

Dong-Suk and Dong-Soo flanked him on either side, their eyes darting around the room before locking onto a spherical object positioned at the room’s center. Dong-Suk’s mouth curled into a slight smirk, while Dong-Soo’s eyebrows raised in curiosity.

Dong-Suk, seeing the peculiar shape, opened his mouth to voice a snide quip. "Looks like—" But he was quickly silenced by Jin-Ho’s intense glare. "What? I didn’t say anything!" he protested, his hands raising defensively. The look from Jin-Ho shut him up, making him lower his gaze in mock surrender. "Tsk, you’re no fun," he grumbled under his breath, a playful pout forming on his lips.

The technician, a middle-aged man with graying hair and sharp eyes, approached them, his gaze flicking disdainfully over Dong-Suk and Dong-Soo. “Name?” he asked, looking directly at Jin-Ho.

“Yoo Jin-Ho,” Jin-Ho answered, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his stomach.

“Yoo Jin-Ho-ssi,” the technician repeated, glancing at the clipboard in his hand. “Alright, place your hand on the black surface and wait.”

As instructed, Jin-Ho walked up to the measuring device and placed his hand on the cool surface. The technician eyed him skeptically, flipping through the pages of his clipboard.

‘Hmm, another one,’ the technician thought as he skimmed Jin-Ho’s file. The young man was the youngest son of Yoojin Construction Company and a second-year college student. He was likely here to get his rank checked so he could parade it around school. The employee looked derisively at Jin-Ho, his lips curling into a slight sneer. Flipping to the next page, he noticed the next tester was the boy’s bodyguard. Scoffing, he turned on the measuring device.

Jin-Ho's fingers twitched nervously on the surface as the machine hummed to life. The room was filled with a soft, pulsing light, and the monitors displayed streams of data. Jin-Ho's jaw tightened, and he glanced back at Dong-Suk and Dong-Soo, who stood watching him intently. Dong-Suk gave a small, reassuring nod, as this happened when he had his rank checked.

Beep.

Woong—

The machine hummed softly as golden arcs of light flickered around it, creating an ethereal glow that filled the room before abruptly falling silent. The monitor's display blinked with unexpected results, casting a tense atmosphere over the gathered group.

“What the hell?” The employee’s voice broke the quiet, his brow furrowing as he scrutinized the screen with narrowed eyes.

Jin-Ho, standing nearby, noticed the change in atmosphere, concern creasing his usually placid features. “Hmm? Is there a problem?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

“Yeah, sorry,” the employee replied, his tone wavering slightly. “There’s something wrong with the readings.”

Dong-Suk frowned deeply, his gaze fixed on the technician who was now fidgeting nervously with the machine. “This has never happened before,” he muttered, his voice barely above a murmur, tension palpable in his stance.

“We’ll have to run the test again,” The technician declared firmly, his eyes darting between the monitor and the Jin-Ho.

“Okay,” Jin-Ho murmured softly, his eyes flickering to the man briefly before he glanced at Dong-Suk, uncertainty shadowing his expression.

Beeep-

Once more the machine was powered up and the golden arcs began to flare around it, Dong-Suk who was watching intently felt something wrong was about to happen.

Woong-

As the machine began to analyze Jin-Ho’s mana, it suddenly connected to something deep within him. A sense of dread washed over him, followed by an overwhelming spike of pain that bloomed from his chest as though his heart were being torn asunder.

“Ack!” Jin-Ho gasped, his free hand clutching his chest as he started to slump toward the device. The once golden arcs surrounding the globe began to glow a violent shade of red, and arcs of lightning crackled ominously around it.

“Huh?” The technician’s eyes widened in shock as error warnings flashed across the monitor. His usually composed face contorted in confusion and fear.

“Jin-Ho!” Dong-Soo shouted, his eyes wide with panic as he saw Jin-Ho leaning on the machine in pain. “What the hell is happening?” He turned towards his brother, demanding answers.

“I don’t know,” Dong-Suk replied, his voice filled with uncertainty. He stared dumbfounded at the machine.

Jin-Ho couldn’t bear the pain any longer and slumped over the sphere, his vision blurring as flashes of light danced across his eyes. He felt a profound sense of loss and an unbearable pressure consuming him.

“Grgh!” he groaned, the sound filled with anguish.

“Damn it,” Dong-Soo cursed, rushing towards Jin-Ho, followed closely by Dong-Suk. Both guards grabbed his slowly falling form, their faces etched with worry. Dong-Suk's eyes darted wildly, his brows knit tightly as he lightly tapped Jin-Ho's cheek, his touch a desperate attempt to keep the boy consciousness. “Hey! Say something, Jin-Ho!”

Dong-Soo's jaw clenched, his lips drawn into a tight line as he whirled on the stunned employee. “Oy!” he called out, his voice a harsh bark that sliced through the paralyzing shock gripping the room. “What the hell are you doing? Call someone!” His voice cracked, tinged with a raw desperation that mirrored the anxiety gnawing at his insides.

The technician, sweat beading on his brow, eyes wide with panic, glanced around at his coworkers who had gathered around the mirror to look at the testing room, their faces masks of concern and fear. “Ah, right,” he stammered, his voice faltering as he rushed to the door. He was met by a wave of colleagues who had heard the noise, their expressions mirroring the growing alarm.

“Get the healers!” he shouted, his voice echoing down the corridor as panic set in. The room erupted in a flurry of activity, everyone scrambling to respond to the unprecedented crisis.

Inside the room, the machine still glowed an eerie red, casting unsettling shadows that flickered like malevolent spirits. Dong-Soo and Dong-Suk carried their boss farther away from the machine, their faces drawn tight with worry. They stared down at Jin-Ho, whose breathing had become erratic. The pain was agonizing, drowning out their frantic words, their faces blurring as the flashes of light began to increase and the ringing in his ears grew deafening.

Jin-Ho teetered on the edge of consciousness, the world around him fading in and out. When suddenly a voice, sweet and clear, cut through the haze like a beacon.

<The Door is everywhere.>

The voice anchored him, its soothing tones a lifeline amidst the storm of pain.

<However, only you can see it. For the stars never set on your sky.>

He reached for the voice, and light began to fill his vision. He found himself in a vast, lonely space, standing before a towering, grotesque monument of dark bronze. The door loomed ominously, it's surface alive with a writhing mass of tormented figures. It pulsed with a life of its own, exuding a suffocating heat and a cacophony of agonized screams that made him feel faint.

Despite the overwhelming terror, Jin-Ho's body moved of its own accord. He approached the door, his hand trembling as it grasped the handle. Though it seemed impossibly heavy, it swung open with surprising ease. As he peered inside, thousands upon thousands of bloody, skinless hands reached out to him. The whispers grew louder, filling his mind with their insidious chorus.

He felt the history of those hands, each one bearing the brands of their sins, crawling up his arm and embedding themselves in his flesh.

<Are you prepared to share the pain?>

The question reverberated through him, less a query and more an unyielding pressure to comply. His grip tightened, and with a determined pull, he seized one of the hands. Instantly, the world spun, and he was thrust back into reality.

He found himself lying on the Association floor, Dong-Suk and Dong-Soo kneeling beside him, their faces twisted with worry. The receptionist from earlier stood over him, her hand pressed to his chest, mana radiating from her palm. Her eyes were wide with shock as she looked down at Jin-Ho, the glow of her healing spell casting a soft light over his pale, sweat-drenched face.

The murmurs of the onlookers grew louder, as Jin-Ho stared at the ceiling he couldn’t keep his mind off on what just happened. He could feel the echoes of the voices from the door, their whispers still lingering in the back of his mind.

“What was that?” his voice raspy as he voiced out his question as he layed on the floor all spent.

Dong-Suk's hands were trembling as he reached to wipe the sweat from Jin-Ho's brow. His face was a mask of confusion and fear, his usual stoic expression shattered. “Boss, we don’t know. You just suddenly collapsed, you were leaking mana like crazy.”

Jin-Ho’s vision swam, the fluorescent lights above flickering in and out of focus. He could barely make out Dong-Soo’s pale face, his lips moving rapidly though the words seemed distant and muffled. The receptionist's mana continued to flow, but the shock in her eyes didn't fade, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried her best to contain the leakage.

"Jin-Ho, can you hear me?" Dong-Soo's voice finally cut through the haze, laced with panic. His eyes darted towards the now silent machine, its red glow extinguished but the air still thick with its ominous presence."What happened back there?"

Jin-Ho opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was dry, and only a hoarse whisper escaped. He could feel the weight of the unseen hands still gripping his soul, their desperate claws lingering in his mind. He tried to sit up, his muscles weak and unresponsive. The room spun around him, faces blurring and merging together.

The receptionist bit her lip, glancing over at the other employees who had gathered, as they stared in confusion at what had occurred in that room. "We need to get him to a proper healer," she said urgently as she felt her control slipping, the boy’s mana was too much for her to handle.

Just as she was about to get up, the doors to the testing facility slammed open as Chief Inspector Woo Jin-Chul came rushing to the scene, the man had been briefed by a panicked call regarding a situation in the testing facility.

His gaze fixed on Jin-Ho sprawled before him, looking as if he might retch, Jin-Chul demanded, 'What happened here?' He sensed the mana waves seeping from the boy, who appeared constipated.

“Your sh*tty orb happened! It messed with our Boss” Dong-Soo, seeing someone high up, placed the blame on Jin-Chul who recoiled at the anger directed at him.

“I’m sorry that this incident occurred but can you really blame us, we don’t even know what caused this?” Jin-Chul said, trying to calm the man down, but it seemed to have triggered the opposite.

“Huh!?!” Dong-Suk looked at Jin-Chul as if he was gonna rip him in half as waves of mana began to leak from his form. Nearby employees who were near him instantly felt heavy as they backed away from the agitated man.

‘An S-rank?’ Jin-Chul could feel the hairs on his nape rise as he felt the familiar intensity of the unknown Hunter before him.

“Dong-Soo!” Dong-Suk shouted, which seemed to snap Dong-Soo from his anger “You could have worsened Jin-Ho’s condition,” he glared at his younger brother as he checked on Jin-Ho who seemed to have finally fainted.

“sh*t!” seeing what he had done, Dong-Soo rushed over to check on Jin-Ho, “sh*t, sh*t! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” he kept apologizing as he fretted on the young man.

Feeling the pressure abated, Jin-Chul looked towards the only sane person in the group. Catching the man’s gaze, Dong-Suk stood up to talk to the chief.

“Once again, I’m deeply sorry for this incident,” Jin-Chul tried once again. “May we talk in the main office? Your boss will get better treatment with our healers stationed there. All we want is to talk about this blunder.”

“Fine,” Seeing as there was no other option Dong-Suk agreed.

Motioning with a curt nod to a nearby employee, Jin-Chul instructed, "Bring them to the main office." His gesture encompassed the trio. "Ensure their needs are seen to," he added, his tone authoritative yet tinged with concern. The employee, grasping the gravity of the situation, nodded solemnly before motioning for the two men to follow him out of the room.

The receptionist, who had been attending to the unconscious boy, nodded as she handed him over to Dong-Soo, who swiftly carried the boy in a bridal carry. The two brothers hurriedly followed the employee out of the testing facility, with people making way for them as they rushed through the building.

As they departed, the tension gradually dissipated, and the bustling activity of the testing facility resumed its normal rhythm. Jin-Chul released a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing on his shoulders. Before long, his sharp gaze caught movement out of the corner of his eye—it was the technician assigned to the testing facility, attempting to slip away unnoticed.

"Eak!" The man let out an undignified shriek as he froze mid-step, turning slowly to face the inspector, a sheen of nervous sweat glistening on his brow as the mana leaking from Jin-Chul threatened to crush the technician.

"You," Jin-Chul's voice brooked no argument as he approached the technician with purpose. "Show me what happened," he demanded, his eyes boring into the technician's, demanding he follow his orders.

The technician, visibly flustered, led Jin-Chul back towards the testing room where the incident had unfolded. Jin-Chul positioned himself behind the technician as they approached the monitors that had recorded the events.

"What were the boy's results?" Jin-Chul's voice was measured but firm, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the technician's every move.

"Um, sir... It kept showing error messages," the technician stammered, his confidence wavering under Jin-Chul's unwavering gaze.

"Error?" Jin-Chul's eyes widened slightly in surprise before he quickly composed himself, pushing the technician aside to examine the monitor himself.

"That isn't an error," Jin-Chul muttered gravely as he studied the readings on the screen. "It’s a 'measure impossible'," he continued, his voice tinged with concern as he reviewed the logs. The readings indicated that the device had failed to measure the young man's mana level, and worse, had malfunctioned during the second attempt.

"Impossible?" the technician echoed, his voice trembling with apprehension.

"How long have you been working here?" Jin-Chul's question was sharp, cutting through the tension in the room.

"Two months, sir," the technician replied nervously, his eyes avoiding Jin-Chul's penetrating gaze.

Taking the printed logs from the nearby printer, Jin-Chul glanced at them briefly before remarking, "No wonder you wouldn't know what it meant." He clipped the papers onto a clipboard, a flicker of irritation evident in his movements.

"What does it mean, sir?" the technician dared to ask, his curiosity outweighing his fear.

"It means we've got ourselves an S-rank," Jin-Chul stated matter-of-factly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "Well, two if you count the man with the sunglasses," he added almost as an afterthought, causing the technician to pale visibly.

"Anyways, your pay will be reduced for the damages incurred here," Jin-Chul stated bluntly as he turned to leave the room, his mind already racing ahead to the next steps that needed to be taken.

"Tell everyone that the testing facility will be closed for a week until repairs are completed," he instructed firmly over his shoulder, the urgency clear in his voice. With that, he hurriedly exited the testing facility, intent on catching up with the trio he had just asked to go to the main office.

Left alone in the now quiet room, the technician could only curse softly under his breath, overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events and the reduction of his salary.

~0~0~0~0~

As the man departed, the Guild recruiters who had witnessed everything exchanged hushed murmurs among themselves, catching the tail end of the conversation.

“Did you hear what the Chief Inspector just said?”

“Yeah, the boy is an S-Rank!”

“And the big fella too!”

The small and medium Guild recruiters buzzed with excitement. It was their first time witnessing the evaluation of an S-Ranker, though they lamented the circ*mstances under which it had occurred.

Initially, they had anticipated the boy would be another affluent youth, likely to receive a low-ranking assessment typically a D-Rank, with the occasional fortunate one landing a B-Rank or A-Rank. But this? The rich kid won the entire lottery, an S-rank!

They had felt the mana pouring from the testing room, its presence intoxicating yet not overwhelming, unlike the brute who unwittingly leaked his own.

Recruiting individuals from influential conglomerate families was usually daunting, given their reluctance to join Guilds. However, the revelation that both the boy and his companion were S-Rankers sparked their entrepreneurial spirits. They could sell this information to larger Guilds for a hefty sum!

As everyone rushed out to inform their respective Guild Leaders, Ang Sangmin, the chief of the White Tiger Guild's 2nd Division Management Department, who had been discreetly observing the proceedings in the testing facility, deftly maneuvered his way through the crowd.

“I need to inform the Guild master about this!” He muttered urgently, his mind racing with the implications of the discovery he had just witnessed. Ang Sangmin pulled out his phone with practiced efficiency, dialing Baek Yoon-Ho's number as he navigated through the bustling corridor. Unbeknownst to him, a certain redhead with a calculating gaze stood at the entrance of the testing facility, calmly surveying the chaotic scene with mild interest.

“Hmm? What's with all the commotion?” a smooth voice interrupted the flurry of activity, but the dozens of recruiters, consumed by thoughts of the lucrative possibilities ahead, paid no heed to the speaker's presence.

Had they been more attentive, they would have recognized the man they hurried past as none other than Choi Jong-In, the esteemed Guild Master of the Hunter’s Guild.

Suddenly, like a hawk spotting its prey, Jong-In's hand shot out and seized an unsuspecting recruiter from the bustling crowd.

“Gegk! Let me go!”

The recruiter squirmed in Jong-In’s firm grip before his eyes widened in recognition and fear. “C-Choi Jong-In!” he gasped as he was released somewhat unceremoniously to the ground.

Rubbing his sore buttocks and hastily adjusting his disheveled attire, the recruiter stood up, his complexion pale with nerves. “W-What can I do for you, sir?” he stuttered out, the commanding presence of one of Korea’s most influential figures now looming over him.

Amusem*nt flickered in Jong-In's eyes as he regarded the flustered recruiter. “I'm just here for some sightseeing,” he remarked casually, though his keen interest was unmistakable. His gaze swept over the chaotic scene around them, absorbing every detail with curiosity.

The recruiter, still shaken, found himself compelled to explain. “Sir Choi, a new S-Ranker appeared!” he blurted out, his voice betraying a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Two of them. Chief Inspector Woo confirmed it before he left. They were last seen heading towards the main office.”

Jong-In’s eyebrows lifted slightly, a sign of genuine intrigue before he smoothly composed himself. “Well, well,” he mused, a faint smile playing on his lips. “That certainly piques my interest.”

Deliberately, Jong-In reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a business card, handing it to the recruiter with a decisive gesture. “Call my secretary later this evening,” he instructed. “I'll make sure you’re compensated for your cooperation.”

With that, Jong-In nodded briefly and strolled away, leaving the recruiter standing there, both relieved and astounded by his encounter with the Guild Master. Looking towards the main building of the Hunter’s Association, Jong-In couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on his lips. It seems today’s outing was going to get a bit more interesting~

Chapter 2: Act 1: Crack in the Mirror II

Chapter Text

Dong-Suk stood rigidly outside the infirmary, his phone clenched tightly in his palm, its cold metal a stark contrast to the tension coiled within him. His brow furrowed deeply as he wrestled with the decision of whether to call Jin-Ho’s father, Yoo Myunghan.

He had never cared much for the man. Myunghan had always been distant and uninvolved in Jin-Ho’s life, seemingly indifferent to his son’s existence. Despite Jin-Ho’s efforts over the years, it had never been enough to thaw the elder man’s cold demeanor.

But the consequences of keeping Myunghan in the dark could be severe for Dong-Suk and his younger brother.

With a grimace, Dong-Suk scrolled through his contacts until he found Yoo Myunghan's name. He hesitated for a moment, then tapped the call button. The phone rang persistently, each tone echoing his mounting apprehension, until finally, a gruff voice answered, "Hwang."

"Sir," Dong-Suk greeted with forced formality, his voice tight with tension.

"This better be important," Myunghan snapped, the rustling of papers audible in the background.

"It’s about the test, sir..." Dong-Suk began tentatively, preparing himself for the expected disinterest.

"So?" Myunghan interrupted sharply, his lack of concern palpable even through the phone. "You called just to inform me about my son’s results?"

"He’s in the infirmary, sir," Dong-Suk interjected quickly, cutting through Myunghan’s indifference.

A heavy silence hung between them with unspoken tension. "Explain," Myunghan demanded, his voice betraying a hint of curiosity beneath the gruff exterior.

Taking a steadying breath, Dong-Suk recounted the events meticulously, ensuring no detail was omitted. The seconds stretched as he finished his account.

"Hmm," Myunghan hummed thoughtfully after a long pause. "Very well, I’ll contact the Association regarding this oversight on their part. Return home once that boy wakes up."

The call ended abruptly, leaving Dong-Suk muttering under his breath in frustration. "Prick," he grumbled, his irritation at Myunghan overshadowing his concern for Jin-Ho’s well-being. Leaning heavily against the corridor wall, he stared at the infirmary door with a mix of apprehension and helplessness.

Inside the infirmary, the atmosphere was suffused with a soft, ethereal glow of healing mana, casting a calming light over the room. The Association’s healer worked with practiced precision, their movements smooth and deliberate as they attended to Jin-Ho. Dong-Suk observed them closely, noting the subtle shifts of mana in the air as the healer’s magic circulated through Jin-Ho’s body, ensuring his mana flowed as intended.

Jin-Ho was suffering from what the Hunter community termed Mana Burn—a severe reaction when one's own mana ran wild. The healer speculated that Jin-Ho might have involuntarily activated a skill during the assessment. When they had brought him to the infirmary, Jin-Ho’s mana had been tightly concentrated around his heart, as if instinctively shielding itself from a perceived threat, leaving him utterly drained.

Dong-Suk’s stomach churned with worry at the implications of the healer’s diagnosis. What had triggered such a volatile response? Was it a malfunction in the testing equipment or an unexpected reaction from Jin-Ho’s own mana reserves? These questions weighed heavily on him, but for now, his priority was ensuring Jin-Ho received the best possible care.

After steadying himself with a deep breath, Dong-Suk pushed aside his mounting concerns and entered the infirmary. He immediately noticed Dong-Soo sitting on a nearby bed, glaring uncomfortably at the healer attending to Jin-Ho. His younger brother's unease was palpable, a mirror of his own.

As he approached them, Dong-Suk gently reprimanded his younger brother. "Stop that, you're distracting them," he said, giving Dong-Soo a light smack on the back of his head.

Dong-Soo let out a low whine in response. "Ow! You didn’t have to do that!" he protested, rubbing the spot where he was hit. His glare shifted from the healer to Dong-Suk, frustration and worry etched on his face.

Dong-Suk softened his expression, placing a reassuring hand on Dong-Soo's shoulder. "I know you're worried, but glaring at the healer won't help Jin-Ho. Let's trust them to do their job, okay?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying urgency, a plea to cooperate and not make things worse.

Dong-Soo's gaze wavered, then dropped to the floor. "I just... I hate feeling so helpless," he muttered, the fight draining out of him.

Dong-Suk gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I know." He turned his attention to the healer, who was delicately channeling mana through Jin-Ho's body. "How’s he holding up?" he inquired, taking a seat beside his brother, who reluctantly made some space.

The healer smiled gratefully, relieved to have Dong-Suk's intervention to rein in his brother's agitation. "His mana is stable now, but I need to continue guiding its circulation for another hour to prevent any complications that might arise," they explained, their focus unwavering on maintaining the delicate balance within Jin-Ho’s body.

"I see," Dong-Suk nodded in understanding before turning to Dong-Soo again. "I told the old man," he said, his face contorting in displeasure at the mention of Myunghan. "I didn’t want him to hear it from somebody else." He grumbled, his frustration evident in the tight set of his jaw.

Dong-Soo grimaced, understanding what his hyung implied. They never knew what went on inside that man’s head. "Ah, no wonder you took so long outside. Did he say anything about Jin-Ho? Or did he cut you off?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting together in worry.

With a sigh of frustration, Dong-Suk replied, "He almost cut the call." He looked at the phone still in his hand, his grip tightening. "Had I not cut him off and explained about Jin-Ho’s situation, he would have likely not cared at all."

"Figures," Dong-Soo muttered, a scowl forming once again as he clenched his fists.

Dong-Suk sighed, knowing how close his brother was to Jin-Ho. Ever since Jin-Ho had picked up their bleeding and battered forms from that dirty alley, courtesy of the boy’s older brother, Jin-Ho had become the one Dong-Soo doted on the most. Jin-Ho saw Dong-Soo as his hyung, and Dong-Soo, in turn, saw Jin-Ho as the dongsaeng he never had.

Their lives had changed so much under Jin-Ho’s care. They no longer had to worry about surviving on the streets, living under Jin-Ho’s roof provided them with all they needed and more. Though they had to endure sharing the same space with Jin-Sung for a time before the prick left to live on his own.

As they sat comfortably on the bed watching the young boy, the doors to the infirmary opened, revealing a familiar man with slick orange hair, followed by a muscular old man with gray hair, greenish-gray eyes, and numerous scars on his body.

Dong-Suk stood up immediately, his body tensing as his instincts screamed at him. The old man's mana was overwhelming, making the hairs on his arm stand on end. Dong-Soo also stood up, but his reaction was driven by anger rather than caution.

“What do you want?” his brother growled in the old man’s direction, his mana flaring as his eyes glowed a bright red, veins standing out on his neck and temples.

“Peace,” the old man said, his voice calm but laced with power. He released his own mana, which dwarfed even Dong-Soo’s, filling the room with an almost tangible pressure.

“Grk,” Dong-Soo stood still, his bravado crumbling as fear took over. He meekly lowered his mana, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“The young ones these days are quite energetic, don't you think, Chief Woo?” the old man questioned the orange-haired man beside him, a smirk playing at his lips.

Chief Woo sighed, rubbing his temple as if dealing with a headache. “Chairman, please don’t play with people we just had an issue with,” he said, a slight frown forming. It seemed this wasn’t the first time the old man had pulled such a stunt.

“Hahahaha, I’m sorry. It’s just that the room was all tense, and I just had to lighten it up,” the old man said, his smile beaming as if he didn’t care that everyone looked at him as if he were crazy.

“Ahem!” The healer, who everyone had ignored, coughed, drawing attention. His eyes were sharp, filled with barely restrained anger. Everyone sheepishly turned to him, their gazes avoiding his as he glared daggers at both Dong-Soo and the old man.

“Sir Go Gunhee, Sir Hwang,” the healer said, his smile tight and insincere. “I kindly ask that you don’t add your mana in this room.” His voice was sickly sweet, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

“Ah,” feeling chastised, both men nodded in understanding, their expressions sheepish as they reined in their mana.

“Hmph,” the healer huffed, satisfied that the troublemakers were quelled. He focused back on channeling his mana to the unconscious boy, making his displeasure clear in every precise movement and the tightness of his lips.

Dong-Suk released a breath of relief as everyone calmed down. “Chief Woo,” he called out to the man who seemed to be the responsible one, even if it meant disrespecting the old man next to him. “What took you so long to meet us here?” he questioned, his tone reflecting the frustration of waiting for ten minutes without any higher-ups to address their complaints about the incident.

“There were some… matters we had to attend to,” Woo Jin-Chul said as he took a seat near the healer and placed a device he had been holding on a nearby table. “We didn’t want this incident to be released,” he said plainly, his eyes meeting Dong-Suk's with a seriousness that underscored the gravity of the situation.

“It’s those recruiters, isn’t it?” Dong-Suk grumbled, recalling the people who had been watching from the back.

“Yes,” Jin-Chul sighed. “Let’s just say a lot of people needed restraining.”

“Hah,” Gunhee chuckled, standing watch as everyone crowded near the boy.

“Anyways, let's talk about the matter at hand. I guess you know by now that what happened in the testing room wasn’t normal, to say the least. We’ve never had this kind of reaction with our machine,” Jin-Chul said, looking towards Dong-Suk, who nodded his head. He had been to this facility before when he tested for his rank with the other Yoojin Guild members, and the test was plain and simple: just press your hand on the sphere and you’d get the result within a minute.

“Yes, I understand that what happened was a freak accident,” Dong-Suk said slowly. “But what happened cannot be ignored. What made the machine act all crazy?” he questioned, as Dong-Soo nodded in agreement.

Jin-Chul looked towards Gunhee, who nodded and took over the conversation. “Well, you see Mr. Hwang, our testing machines work by sending a small burst of mana to the applicant, which stimulates the channel where mana flows. It then gauges how much it contains before sending the results to the monitor,” Gunhee explained.

“Jin-Ho was tested twice,” Dong-Suk said, his brow furrowing at the information. “Has there been anyone who had a similar experience as him, sans the whole fainting?”

Gunhee sighed, his expression growing more serious. “There have been a few anomalies, but nothing quite like this. Most unusual results involve the machine struggling to get an accurate read, not outright malfunctioning.”

Dong-Suk rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of the situation. “So what made Jin-Ho’s case different?”

“It’s possible that Jin-Ho’s mana channels are extraordinarily sensitive or contain a higher concentration of mana than we’ve encountered before,” Jin-Chul suggested. “This could have caused the machine to overload.”

Dong-Soo, who had been quietly fuming, interjected. “If his mana is that powerful, shouldn’t that have been taken into account during the design of the testing machines?”

“The machines are designed to handle a wide range of mana levels,” Gunhee replied. “But in Jin-Ho’s case…” Gunhee looked towards the healer who seemed to understand what the Chairman was implying and made a zipping motion.

“I hope this information never leaves this room Mr. Hwang” Gunhee's voice lowered as he stared at the two siblings.

“What are you talking about,” Dong-Soo who had been listening to the conversation asked not understanding what was going on. Dong-Suk sighed, his brother wasn’t the brightest tool in the shed.

“Quiet, just let him explain” Dong-Suk cut him off not wanting to miss anything.

“As I was saying, in the case of Yoo Jin-Ho, when the machine is unable to calculate the mana of an individual it only leads to one thing” The old man paused as he held his words for dramatic effect a slight smirk threatening to come out “That person is an S-ranker” he stated simply waiting for the reaction from the two dumbfounded men.

“Oh sh*t!” Dong-Soo exclaimed, looking at their boss in a new light. “You serious!?” he asked Gunhee, who nodded, a bit disturbed by the sudden emotional shift. What a one-track mind this kid has , Gunhee mused as he stared at Dong-Soo, who now had stars in his eyes.

Gunhee motioned towards the machine Jin-Chul had placed on the desk. “We were going to test the boy again in one of our private testing rooms if he woke up, but we decided against it. We thought it might destroy the machine and cause him to fall asleep... again. So we brought the portable one instead,” he said, smiling as he saw Jin-Chul place the machine at the foot of the bed.

“With your permission, we hope to test young Yoo again,” Gunhee said, as Dong-Suk stared at the machine with distrust.

Dong-Suk knew that what happened was just an accident, but he couldn’t help the irrational fear that it might happen again. “Dong-Soo, you try first,” he said, throwing his beloved dongsaeng under the bus.

“Huh?” Dong-Soo looked dumbfounded for a second. “Why me?”

The sigh that escaped Dong-Suk was palpable as he stared at his brother as if he were an idiot. Oh wait, Dong-Soo is an idiot , he thought.

“You were going to have a test after Jin-Ho, right?” he said as the gears turned inside his brother's head. “Why not do it now?” He turned towards the Association members, who saw the look he gave them and understood what he was implying.

“On second thought, why don’t we try testing yours first, Dong-Soo-ssi,” Jin-Chul said, motioning to the machine sitting on the bed. “We were a bit too hasty in testing Jin-Ho-nim. Seeing as he is still asleep, the result might not be accurate,” Jin-Chul lied through his teeth as Dong-Soo pointed towards himself.

“...” The healer watching the gaslighting could only look at the person being gaslighted with pity in their eyes.

“Oh, okay,” Dong-Soo agreed without any thought, making his way around the bed towards Jin-Chul. “Just place your hand on this crystal right here,” Jin-Chul said, motioning toward the purple rock.

Doing what Jin-Chul said, Dong-Soo placed his palm on the mana stone, feeling a tingle as he waited for Jin-Chul to start the machine.

Clicking the button, Jin-Chul held the meter in his hand as he watched the numbers roll on the screen. There was a pause as the numbers stopped increasing before an [Error] appeared.

“So what does it say?” Dong-Soo asked, noticing Jin-Chul had placed the meter down.

“Congratulations, Hwang Dong-Soo-ssi, you’re Korea’s eighth S-ranker,” Jin-Chul stated simply before looking at Gunhee, who nodded in understanding.

“Woohoo!” Dong-Soo yelled in happiness, completely forgetting he was standing near the unconscious Jin-Ho. Dong-Suk rubbed his head at his brother’s lack of awareness.

“Shut up, you idiot, Jin-Ho is right there!” Dong-Suk hissed.

“Ah,” Dong-Soo quieted down, looking at Jin-Ho, who still remained asleep. “Sorry.”

“It’s understandable, Dong-Soo-ssi. Anyone would be happy knowing they’re a higher ranker,” Gunhee said, smiling at the antics of the man.

Dong-Suk, feeling a mix of pride and exasperation, patted Dong-Soo on the back. “Just keep it down, okay?”

Dong-Soo nodded, a wide grin still on his face. “I can’t believe it, hyung. An S-ranker!”

“I know, I know,” Dong-Suk said, a small smile forming despite himself. As he looked towards the machine, he felt his fears settle away for a bit. If Dong-Soo was an S-ranker and the machine didn’t blow up in his brother’s face, then maybe Dong-Suk could trust the Association a bit more.

“You said it would be a bit inaccurate, right? But seeing as you told us that Jin-Ho was probably an S-ranker, it doesn’t matter if it’s not accurate,” he said, still keeping up the lie to avoid worrying his dongsaeng.

Jin-Chul gave a reassuring nod. “I’m guessing you want to test him now, right?”

“Yes,” Dong-Suk agreed, but he kept his eye on the machine, ready to smack it away without a second thought if something felt off.

Jin-Chul nodded and motioned for the healer to stop regulating Jin-Ho’s mana, seeing as it was stable enough. The healer complied, carefully letting go of the unconscious boy and cutting off his mana flow.

With practiced precision, Jin-Chul placed Jin-Ho’s hand on the device and repeated the procedure. Dong-Suk’s heart pounded as he watched the machine closely. Just like Dong-Soo’s result, the display showed [Error].

“Well, it seems the entirety of Seoul will be celebrating in a few days,” Gunhee chirped, his smile widening. Dong-Suk could understand why; with the revelation of two new S-rankers, Korea would catch up with its neighboring countries.

Dong-Suk let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That’s... incredible,” he said, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and relief. He glanced at Dong-Soo, who was still beaming with excitement, and then at Jin-Ho, lying peacefully.

Dong-Soo’s grin faded slightly as he looked at Jin-Ho, his eyebrows knitting together with concern. “But what about Jin-Ho? Is he going to be okay?” His brow furrowed deeply, the joy of his newfound rank momentarily overshadowed by worry for his boss.

The question seemed to quiet the whole room, a somber mood settling over them as they looked at the boy gently sleeping.

“Honestly, we don't know,” Jin-Chul admitted, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty. His eyes darted to the healer, who gave a slight nod in agreement. “The only thing we can do is wait for him to wake up on his own.”

“And this is where the problem starts,” Dong-Suk said, his brows knitting together. “I’ve called the boss’s father regarding the matter,” he stated. “You can expect him to make an appearance sooner or later.” As he said this, Gunhee’s smile twitched, a hint of discomfort flickering across his face. His lips tightened, and a shadow passed over his eyes.

“Ah, that man,” Gunhee said, his voice stilted. His expression soured, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Did he say anything?” he questioned, looking at Dong-Suk uneasily.

“He said he was going to call the Association regarding the matter,” Dong-Suk replied, watching the old man’s discomfort grow. He ran a hand through his hair, the tension evident in his clenched jaw.

“I’m betting the compensation for this incident won’t be silenced by a few Gate permits,” Gunhee said, his jaw tightening with displeasure. His eyes narrowed, and a frown etched deeper lines into his face. “The other guilds aren’t going to like this,” he grumbled.

“They certainly will, sir,” Jin-Chul chimed in, confirming Gunhee’s thoughts. His eyes flicked to Gunhee’s, then back to Dong-Suk, his expression serious. “But it’s better than the Yoojin Guild making this a big issue.”

Dong-Soo, picking up on the tension, shifted uncomfortably. His eyes darted between the Association members, a frown tugging at his lips. “You’ve met the man, haven’t you?”

Gunhee sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. He and your guild master have been quite active lately,” he stated, which earned a scoff from Dong-Soo.

“You mean failing to recruit anyone from the big guilds,” his brother intoned with a wry smile.

“That’s putting it lightly,” Jin-Chul added. “The Yoojin Guild has been causing a mess with their insistent recruitment of the major guild S-rankers. We’ve had to mediate a couple of times due to your guild master being a bit too… persistent in his recruitment efforts.”

A snort escaped from Dong-Suk. Jin-Sung was a narcissistic individual, always thinking he was the best in the room. The older Yoo sibling never took no for an answer, even if it meant antagonizing an awakened individual. The brat forced him to join the company guild despite Jin-Ho’s protest, stating that it was the “bastard's duty to serve his betters.” He had almost mauled the man’s face then and there if it wasn’t for Jin-Ho clinging to his arms to stop him from doing something he would regret.

“But I think the Yoojin Guild will be a bit more reserved from now on, seeing as it has two S-rankers they can recruit,” Gunhee said, looking pointedly at the two brothers. His eyes flicked between them, assessing their reactions.

“Fat chance,” Dong-Soo retorted, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. His eyes glinted with defiance as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I ain’t working under that prick and neither will Jin-Ho. We’ve been planning to strike out on our own once the two of us finished with the testing.”

“Oh?” Gunhee intoned, his brow raising in surprise. “I was under the assumption that the boy would join the Yoojin Guild.” His gaze sharpened, trying to read between the lines.

“It’s... complicated,” was all Dong-Suk said, his face tightening as he glanced away, not wanting to elaborate further. His jaw clenched, and he looked at Jin-Ho with a mixture of protectiveness and frustration.

“I see...” Gunhee seemed to understand that it was a private matter. He nodded slowly, his eyes softening as he dropped the subject.

“Well, I think that’s all there is to say regarding this matter.” With nothing more to say to the Association members, Dong-Suk signaled that it was the end of the discussion. He exhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the conversation lifting slightly.

“Very well then. Once again, we are sorry for this trouble,” Gunhee said as he motioned for Jin-Chul to pick up the device. His posture relaxed, and a faint, apologetic smile crossed his face. “You can stay in the facility until the boy wakes up. We’ll be handing over your results and Hunter IDs when you leave. Though if isn’t too much, I would like for you to come back in three days for power testing” With that, the two left, but not without motioning for the healer to continue what they were doing.

The healer nodded, his expression focused as he went back to cycling Jin-Ho’s mana once more. The room was filled with a tense silence, each of them lost in their thoughts, as they waited for the boy to wake.

~0~0~0~0~

If Jin-Ho had a coin for every time he was abruptly transported to a random, surreal location in his mind, he'd have two coins. It’s not a lot, but it's odd that it happened twice.

Now, dangling in silken threads, Jin-Ho could hear whispers echoing at the edges of his consciousness. He found himself ensnared in bluish silk, his body suspended above a colossal loom. A pendulum swung rhythmically over it, linked to an intricate network of machines. The pendulum's movements corresponded to tremors from above, driving the countless machines to weave the silk into cloth.

With each swing of the pendulum, words began to form on the cloth. Jin-Ho's eyes widened in shock as he struggled against his bindings, his face contorting with effort and frustration. Eventually, he freed himself and landed on the cold, hard floor with a thud.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, wincing as he rubbed his sore back and grimacing from the pain as he stood up.

“Whoa, what is this place?” His brow furrowed in confusion and awe, his mouth slightly agape.

He marveled at the surreal surroundings, his eyes darting around in disbelief. Fifty-seven spinning wheels churned, and the pendulum swung erratically in response to vibrations from above. Jin-Ho's ears pricked up as he listened closely, his face reflecting a mix of curiosity and apprehension. He could hear faint sounds—footsteps, construction quakes, the impact of someone falling, and distant echoes of screams. Every little movement influenced the pendulum's swing, dictating the rhythm of the weaving machines. The fabric that emerged was not just silk; it was a tapestry of the chaos above, capturing every tremor and sound in its threads.

Nearing the cloth being written, Jin-Ho's curiosity piqued. He could make out the words written on the patches of cloth.

[Fold thirty-nine paper cranes and throw them from the rooftop.]

[When your eyes meet another person’s, nod at them.]

The instructions seemed harmless at first, even comedic. But as he moved to the next set of words, the messages became increasingly grim.

[Pick up a knife and stab a familiar warm body.]

[Bake a cake filled with needles and give it to your neighbor]

“What kind of sick person would follow these?” Jin-Ho questioned incredulously, his voice echoing in the eerie silence. His eyes widened with horror as he continued reading the macabre commands. His heartbeat quickened, and he could feel a cold sweat forming on his forehead. The grotesque instructions made his stomach churn.

As he stared at the cloth, Jin-Ho's mind raced with questions. Who created this place? Why was he here? And most disturbingly, who had to follow these twisted commands?

As Jin-Ho questioned the entire scenario, he suddenly heard the rhythmic footsteps of someone approaching. Turning towards the sound, he saw… himself. Or rather, a version of himself. This doppelgänger sported white hair with black streaks tied into a side ponytail and wore a white cloak adorned with gold ornaments over a black suit. He carried a greatsword, its blade decorated with golden chains and a lock.

The look-alike had his eyes closed as he neared Jin-Ho's location, stopping in front of him. An eerie silence hung in the air, broken only by the rhythmic sound of writing from the loom.

“Um, hi?” Jin-Ho greeted, his voice tinged with nervousness.

The look-alike remained silent, staring at him for a few seconds before turning to face the loom. His presence radiated a palpable wave of despair.

“Do our choices even matter?” the look-alike intoned in a sad, gentle voice, his expression a deep frown as he neared the written cloth. “Does free will even exist?”

Jin-Ho remained silent, feeling the weight of the question. His look-alike stood there, a wave of despair emanating from him, making the air feel heavy and suffocating.

“No matter what I choose, my choices feel like someone was pulling my strings,” the other him continued, his voice laden with resignation and sorrow.

The words struck a chord deep within Jin-Ho. He didn’t fully understand what this other version of him was getting at, but he grasped the essence of the despair. Living a life under someone else's control, feeling like a puppet in the hands of fate—it was a feeling he knew all too well.

“So just like that? You're just gonna give us because you feel controlled.” Jin-Ho finally spoke, his voice soft but resolute. “So what if someone was pulling the strings? Does that mean we should give up and let our dreams crumble?”

The look-alike’s frown deepened, but he said nothing, his silence urging Jin-Ho to continue.

“I’ve felt that despair, that crushing weight of futility,” Jin-Ho admitted, his eyes locking onto the other him. “But I also know that fighting through it, no matter how pointless it seems, is better than doing nothing at all. Even if our choices are illusions, even if our will is not truly free, the act of trying gives our lives meaning.”

The look-alike’s expression softened slightly, his eyes still closed. “And what if trying is just another form of self-deception? What if our efforts are just part of the same futile dance?”

“Then at least we are dancing,” Jin-Ho replied, a faint smile forming on his lips. “At least we are moving, living, experiencing. Inaction leads to nothing, but action, even if controlled, leads to experiences that shape us.”

The look-alike seemed to ponder this, the despair around him lessening slightly. “Perhaps you’re right,” he finally said, his voice less sorrowful. “Perhaps the act of fighting, even in a losing battle, is what defines us.”

Jin-Ho nodded, feeling a deep sense of understanding and connection with this other version of himself. “We may be thinking puppets, but as long as we keep thinking, keep fighting, we retain a piece of ourselves. And that piece is worth everything.”

The look-alike opened his eyes for the first time, and their greying glow seemed to light up the room, revealing a glimmer of hope within the depths of his gaze. “So that’s your answer,” he said softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips, before slowly fading away into motes of bluish light that drifted toward Jin-Ho.

“Huh!” Jin-Ho exclaimed, watching as the light fully engulfed him. His appearance began to shift and change, transforming into that of his doppelgänger. “This is so weird,” he muttered, examining his new form with a mix of awe and bewilderment.

As he stood there, now alone, he noticed the pendulum suddenly stopped its swinging. In the next moment, cracks began to form above him, and light started to streak and shine through.

Raising his hand to block the slowly brightening light, he heard his look-alike's voice once again, echoing in his mind. “I wonder what color your star will shine.”

And then he knew no more.

~0~0~0~0~

Jin-Ho jolted awake, gasping for breath. His heart raced as his eyes fluttered open, taking in the sterile, antiseptic-smelling room around him. Blinking rapidly, he tried to make sense of his surroundings, his brow furrowed in confusion. Where the hell am I now?

As his senses returned, he noticed two figures hovering over him. The Hwang siblings, their faces etched with concern, leaned in closer.

“Boss, you’re awake!” Dong-Suk exclaimed, his eyes widening with relief. He reached out to touch his arm gently, Jin-Ho's face a mixture of worry and relief. “Are you okay?”

Jin-Ho nodded slowly, his mind still reeling from the strange encounter. “Yeah, I think so,” he replied, his voice hoarse.

“What happened?” Dong-Soo asked, his face mirroring his brother's concern as he hovered near Jin-Ho.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Jin-Ho said, rubbing his forehead and wincing slightly. “I did dream I was in a weird place, though,” he added, recalling the strange room he had appeared in. His eyes closed as he tried to remember the details, then he shook his head, deeming it not important. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter. Where the hell are we? The last thing I remember, we were in the testing room and I… fainted.”

“We’re in the main building. You caused quite a fuss when you fainted,” Dong-Suk said joked, but Jin-Ho could hear the underlying concern in his voice.

“I see… did you tell my father about this?” Jin-Ho asked as he stood up, touching his chest which felt a little heavy.

“The old man? Yeah, I called him. He said to get home once you woke up. Didn’t say much and ended the call,” Dong-Suk said as he handed Jin-Ho the jacket he wore when coming to the facility.

Jin-Ho nodded in understanding. It irked him that his father could care less about his well-being, but he was used to that by now.

“Sir, let me check you for a bit before I discharge you. It’s just some last-minute checks to see if you’re good to go,” the healer, whom Jin-Ho just noticed, spoke up.

“Sure, go ahead,” Jin-Ho said, raising his arm. The healer took it, and Jin-Ho could feel the pulse of mana flowing through his body before retracting. The healer nodded, seemingly satisfied with what they found.

“You’re good to go,” the healer said with a smile before standing up and going to a nearby desk. They took a logbook and returned. “But before that, I would like you to write your name here for recording,” the healer said, handing the logbook and a pen to Jin-Ho. “Your men have already signed in; I only need yours, sir.”

Nodding in understanding, Jin-Ho quickly wrote his name in the logbook before handing it back to the healer, who took it before leaving the room.

“So, what happened while I was out?” Jin-Ho asked, dreading what might have transpired since his fainting episode.

“Well… where to start,” Dong-Suk said with a wry grin. Jin-Ho knew he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear.

Chapter 3: Act 1: Crack in the Mirror III

Chapter Text

“He’s been sitting there for like an hour now,” an employee anxiously whispered to his colleague as they stared at Korea’s ‘Ultimate Hunter’.

“You think he’s here for ‘them’?” his colleague questioned, glancing nervously towards the infirmary.

“Hell if I know! Just ignore him.” Another employee hissed as he thumbed his phone, not wanting to bother anymore with the dangerous individual in the lobby.

As they whispered to each other, they didn’t realize their conversation was heard by Jong-In, who discreetly looked towards said infirmary. He had been patiently waiting to see these new S-rankers ever since he caught wind of them from a passerby he ‘gently’ grabbed.

Checking his watch, Jong-In saw that it was past lunch. He sighed, knowing he had missed a meeting scheduled for the latest Dungeon Permits in Namyangju. That troublesome feline who had been eyeing that area must be enjoying not having to bother with taking the permits in Jong-In’s absence. His secretary must be fuming right now, judging by the countless messages he received in the past hour.

Still, this wait would be worth it. Getting to know his potential guildmates or rivals would offset missing a few dungeon permits. The thought of recruiting two extra S-rankers into his guild brought a slight smile to his face, these new members would shift the power balance between his guild and the rest.

As he planned on how he would dominate the other guilds, the door to the infirmary opened, and out came the people he was waiting for.

Two men in their early thirties and a young man who looked like he had just finished high school made their way to the lobby. Wanting to confirm who among the three was the two he was looking for, he discreetly sent out a bit of his mana to gauge theirs, slightly skirting around their edges not wanting to be noticed.

In an instant, the young man looked in his direction, his eyes widening in alarm. Not long after, the man beside him, wearing sunglasses— what awful fashion sense —also stared at Jong-In, his eyes glowing red with power.

The only one who didn’t react was the heavily scarred man, who looked at the two in confusion before looking towards Jong-In’s direction. Judging by the mana coating the man, he was likely a lowly C-ranker.

Well, now isn’t this interesting , Jong-In chuckled as he stood up and made his way towards the trio, making sure not to look threatening. The boy was calming down the agitated man beside him.

“Greetings,” Jong-In smiled as he greeted the three. He could see the recognition in their eyes. Good, it would not make do if his possible recruits didn’t know him.

The young man, still slightly wary, nodded in acknowledgment. His sharp eyes studied Jong-In with a mixture of respect and caution. The man in sunglasses, on the other hand, crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as if challenging Jong-In.

The heavily scarred man remained silent, his eyes shifting between his companions and Jong-In, a frown marring his face.

“Well, is this how fellow S-rankers greet each other? ‘Cause if you want to throw hands, I’m down!” The one wearing sunglasses said as he cracked his fists, his aura vibrating with excitement.

“Dong-Soo, relax. He’s only saying hello,” the young man called out to the excitable brute. “Yoo Jin-Ho, it’s a pleasure meeting Korea’s Ultimate Hunter,”

“Hwang Dong-Suk, sorry for my dongsaeng’s poor attitude,” the C-ranker greeted as he moved to slightly block the young man. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” he asked.

“Nothing much. I just wanted to greet the ones I’ll likely be talking with for the foreseeable future,” Jong-In smiled, pleased to see they were a reasonable bunch, sans the unfashionable brute.

“I see…” the young boy voiced out.

"Well, if it isn’t too much to ask, do you fine gentlemen have a guild you're interested in joining? If not, have you ever considered joining mine?" he inquired, looking at all three of them. He was primarily here to recruit the S-rankers, but knowing that the C-ranker was the elder brother of one of the S-rankers, he thought it wouldn't hurt to extend the invitation to him as well.

“No, we haven’t…” the boy answered cautiously. Maybe he was afraid he would offend him? “We just got our ranks evaluated and we still don’t know how our powers work, so can I kindly ask that you give us the time to think this through? We still have to come back here for power testing,” the young Yoo Jin-Ho said as he pawed at the hem of his sleeve.

“That’s understandable,” Jong-In said, letting them off easily. He could understand where they were coming from. Newly awakened individuals always feel overwhelmed by the power granted to them out of nowhere; it would take some time to acclimate to it.

“Here.” Rummaging his breast pocket for one of his personal business cards, he handed it to the young man. “If you ever change your mind or want to experience what our guild is like, give me a call. I’ll help guide you through being a Hunter.”

He smiled as Jin-Ho looked at the card in wonder. “Thank you, Sir Choi. I’ll let you know if we make up our minds on it,” the young man said, his voice tinged with both excitement and uncertainty. He then signaled to his companions that it was time to leave.

Jong-In nodded, satisfied with the boy’s answer, and stepped aside as the three departed the lobby. He watched them go, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed their interactions. Once they were out of earshot, he pulled out his phone, his expression shifting from polite interest to calculating intent.

“Yes, this is Choi. I want you to draft some contracts,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Include top-tier benefits, comprehensive support for newly awakened hunters, exclusive training programs with our best trainers, and significant additional incentives. Make sure they can't even think about saying no. I need them ready by the end of the day.”

As he ended the call, a sly smile spread across his lips, his eyes gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and cold calculation. He thought about the power balance shifting in his favor, the potential of the new recruits, and the strategic advantage he was about to gain. Baek Yoon-Ho can have those Dungeon permits, he thought, his smile turning almost sad*stic. Jong-In would settle for something far more valuable~

~0~0~0~0~

As Jin-Ho, Dong-Soo, and Dong-Suk walked away, the tension in Jin-Ho’s posture began to ease. He turned the card over in his hand, trying to contain the growing giddiness inside of him. They had just been greeted by The Ultimate Hunter. Jin-Ho tried not to let his excitement show, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of Choi Jong-In during their talk.

Dong-Soo, still brimming with energy from his little stand-off, nudged Jin-Ho’s shoulder, his eyes shining with eagerness.

“What do you think, Boss? Should we consider it?” Dong-Soo asked, his voice less confrontational now but still carrying a spark of enthusiasm. “We could easily ignore your sh*tty old man by joining that guy’s Guild.”

Jin-Ho sighed, a slight smile playing on his lips as he slipped the card into his pocket. “I don’t know. It’s a big decision. We need to understand our powers first. And honestly, I’m not sure we’re ready for that kind of commitment yet.” His expression grew more serious as he mulled over the possibilities.

They hadn’t planned far when he and Dong-Soo discovered they had awakened a week ago. Their initial plan was simple: as long as they obtained higher ranks, they could form their own Guild after raiding at least ten or so Gates to even be qualified to obtain a Guild permit. In hindsight, their plan seemed overly simplistic.

Jin-Ho hadn’t accounted for possible interference from his brother or his father, who could stonewall them using their political connections. But with The Ultimate Hunter asking them to join his guild, they would be practically untouchable. Their S-rank status would also help, but against his father, it would be useless without the backing of a powerful guild like the Hunters Guild.

Dong-Suk, always the voice of reason, nodded thoughtfully. “Jin-Ho’s right. We need to take this one step at a time. Joining a guild without knowing how they operate could put us in a bad position. Plus, we have to go over their contracts carefully.”

At the mention of contracts, the heavily scarred man shuddered visibly. Jin-Ho understood the man’s apprehension. Jin-Sung had buried Dong-Suk under countless clauses to ensure he wouldn’t escape to any guild that wasn’t under the Yoo Family. The memory of parsing through those papers was enough to make anyone wary.

“Guess you’re right,” Dong-Soo murmured solemnly, feeling outnumbered by the two. His shoulders slumped slightly, and he kicked a small pebble on the ground in frustration.

As they neared their parked car, Jin-Ho paused, a nagging feeling tugging at the back of his mind. He turned to look back at the Association building, a puzzled expression on his face. “Is it just me, or did we forget something?” he asked, trying to piece together the day's chaotic events.

Dong-Soo stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “Hm?” he looked at his hyung with a quizzical expression. “What’s he talking about?”

Dong-Suk, already halfway into the driver’s seat, glanced over his shoulder. “Nah, it’s just you,” he said, dismissing the concern with a wave of his hand. “Come on, get in.”

Jin-Ho scratched his head, still feeling uneasy. “Eh, maybe it’s not important,” he muttered, finally climbing into the back seat. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they had overlooked something, but with the whirlwind of events, it was hard to pinpoint exactly what.

[Back Inside the Chairman’s Office]

“Jin-Chul,” Gunhee called out, his voice carrying a hint of worry as he addressed the orange-haired man who was diligently sorting through a stack of files.

“Yes, sir?” Jin-Chul replied, looking up from his work. He saw the Chairman leaning on his desk, a look of mild concern etched into his features.

“Did we tell them to watch the introductory video before leaving?” Gunhee asked, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to recall the details of their last meeting.

Jin-Chul’s face froze for a moment as he replayed the events in his mind. After a few seconds, it dawned on him—they hadn't. They had been so focused on the rank evaluations that the usual procedural steps had been overlooked. His eyes widened in realization, and he let out a small, exasperated sigh. They both stared at each other the stress of this day getting to them.

“...”

“...”

Gunhee could only sigh deeply, shaking his head in resignation. “I really am getting too old for this,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples in exasperation. The stress of managing the Hunters’ Association, coupled with the constant influx of new awakeners who had the usual complaints, was taking its toll.

Jin-Chul shifted uncomfortably, feeling a pang of guilt. “I’ll make sure they get the information next time they come in,” he offered, trying to alleviate the situation.

Gunhee nodded, though his eyes still held a hint of weariness. “Make sure you do. We can’t afford any more oversights,” he said, his voice tinged with fatigue.

“Sir,” a voice called urgently as the office door burst open.

“What is it?” Gunhee snapped, irritation flickering across his face. He quickly composed himself upon seeing the cowering employee. “Ahem, sorry. What seems to be the problem?” He coughed into his sleeve and gestured for the man to speak.

The employee took a deep breath to steady himself. “S-sir, it’s the Chairman of Yoojin Construction. He wants to speak regarding the matter in the testing facility.”

At the mention of Yoojin Construction, Gunhee couldn’t suppress the audible sigh that escaped his lips. Of course, it would be the young Yoo’s old man making his move. “And I was beginning to wonder when that old coot would call,” he muttered under his breath.

“Sir, would you like me to handle it for you?” Chief Woo offered dutifully as he placed the latest reports on Gunhee’s desk.

“No, it’s fine. I have some words of my own for that man,” Gunhee replied, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He gestured for the young man to leave.

“Connect the call. Let’s see what he has to say,” he instructed the employee, who quickly nodded and left to carry out the order.

As Gunhee waited for the call to be connected, he leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the armrest. This was going to be a headache to deal with. He mused over his plan, deciding to withhold the boy’s results and let the old man keep guessing about his son's rank. Was it petty? Absolutely. Did he care? Not in the slightest.

~0~0~0~0~

The drive home felt interminable thanks to Seoul’s notorious afternoon traffic. Jin-Ho, weary from the slow progress, had drifted into a light doze in the back seat, his head resting against the window.

"Freaking hell!" Dong-Suk's sudden outburst shattered the quiet, accompanied by a furious honk aimed at a car that had rudely cut them off at an intersection. He shot a quick glance at Jin-Ho through the rearview mirror, finding him still lying down on the car’s sofa.

"Quiet down, I'm trying to catch some shut-eye," Jin-Ho grumbled groggily, his words muffled by the soft cushion beneath him.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll keep quiet, princess," Dong-Suk teased, flashing a quick grin at Jin-Ho's reflection in the mirror.

Startled awake by the insult, Jin-Ho sat up abruptly, his eyes narrowing at the driver who dared to smirk back at him. "Don't call me that!" he hissed, leaning forward between the front seats, his hands gripping the headrests.

"I'm an S-ranker now, so show a little respect!" Jin-Ho declared with a hint of indignation, though his voice lacked any vitriol.

"S-rank, what-rank, you're still just a kid to me," Dong-Suk sang out playfully, his grin widening as he deftly maneuvered through another turn. The streets were growing familiar as they approached the Yoo Residence.

"Cut it out, I'm not a kid anymore," Jin-Ho protested, his cheeks flushing slightly as he settled back into his seat, folding his arms across his chest.

"Denying it only makes you sound more childish," Dong-Soo added with a chuckle, unable to resist needling the young man.

"Enough, or I'll punch both of you!" Jin-Ho threatened half-heartedly, balling his fists in mock aggression, his face a mix of frustration and amusem*nt.

Dong-Suk and Dong-Soo exchanged amused glances, their laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. Jin-Ho's attempt at being stern only made him look more endearing, with his flushed cheeks and tousled hair.

Their smug faces seemed to trigger something in Jin-Ho, who suddenly launched into a playful assault on Dong-Soo's shoulder, each punch accompanied by a comical squeak as his fist made contact.

"Take that and that!" Jin-Ho exclaimed, his punches becoming more enthusiastic with each swing, fueled by the laughter of his men. Despite his enthusiasm, his blows lacked any real force.

"That tick—Gragk!" Dong-Soo managed to gasp out between laughs before Jin-Ho wrapped his arms around him in a mock chokehold, both of them struggling to contain their mirth.

Dong-Suk chuckled softly, his smile never fading as he navigated the final stretch toward the Yoo Residence. He was grateful he wasn't the target of Jin-Ho's playful antics this time. The young man, though spirited, knew that his strength even when held back could hurt him.

As they pulled up to the familiar gates of the Yoo Residence, Jin-Ho's embarrassment faded, replaced by a solemn smile. The thought of facing his father at dinner weighed heavily on him, casting a shadow over his earlier excitement.

Lowering the driver's window, Dong-Suk nodded at the security guard, who responded with a curt nod before opening the automatic gates. The car slowly rolled into the Yoo family complex, past rows of rarely-used luxury vehicles parked in the expansive garage. Each car was a symbol of the family's immense wealth and the airs they had to maintain.

As Jin-Ho stepped out of the car, he was immediately met by the head butler, Mr. Kim. The old man bowed low, his demeanor seemingly one of diligent kindness.

“Welcome home, young master. I hope your visit to the Hunters Association was fruitful,” Mr. Kim said, his voice dripping with false politeness. Jin-Ho, familiar with the hidden venom in the butler’s tone, eyed him warily. Kim’s loyalty lay with Jin-Ho’s elder brother, and despite his harmless appearance, he was a D-ranked assassin.

Dong-Suk’s earlier joyful mood vanished as soon as he saw Mr. Kim. He glared at the old man with open disdain. “Tsk,” he spat, his face twisting in scorn. Kim responded with a scoff, unfazed by Dong-Suk’s anger.

Dong-Soo, unusually silent, stood behind Jin-Ho, gripping his waist protectively and pulling him closer. His eyes never left the butler, his body tense and ready to act.

“Mr. Kim, is Father home?” Jin-Ho asked, breaking the tense silence.

“He is, young master. He’s kindly waiting for you along with your esteemed brother,” Kim replied, his words laced with thinly veiled contempt. At the mention of Jin-Sung, Dong-Suk’s anger flared anew, and he took a step towards the butler, his fists clenched.

“Don’t!” Jin-Ho quickly grabbed Dong-Suk’s arm, stopping him in his tracks. Dong-Suk’s eyes bore into Jin-Ho’s, silently asking, Are you really going to keep taking this old man’s bullsh*t?

Jin-Ho shook his head slightly, signaling that it wasn’t worth it. The brief satisfaction of hitting the butler wouldn’t be worth the consequences.

“It’s good to see that the young master can control his mad dog,” Kim sneered, dropping his polite facade. “But I digress. Your presence is needed in the dining room. Your family expects you to be tidy before joining them.” With that, he turned and walked away without looking back.

“One day, I’m gonna shove a fist up that bastard’s arse and pull his spine out to use it as a xylophone,” Dong-Soo muttered darkly, finally breaking his silence.

“I’m surprised you didn’t maul him then and there,” Jin-Ho said, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the man still holding him by the waist.

Dong-Soo scoffed. “I may be an idiot, but broadcasting our status is gonna get us into a lot of trouble.” He turned to Jin-Ho with a wry grin. “Besides, I’ve been thinking that when we get out of here, we could parade our rank to their shocked faces!”

“Who the f*ck are you, and what did you do to my brother?” Dong-Suk, now calmed down, joked as he lightly punched Dong-Soo’s arm.

“f*cker, I can think too, you know!” Dong-Soo grumbled as he released Jin-Ho from his grip.

Both looked at each other, then stared at Dong-Soo incredulously. But you rarely think at all! they thought in unison.

“Let’s just clean ourselves up. I’m betting Father won’t like us being late,” Jin-Ho said as he walked towards the house entrance. “You two better look presentable.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dong-Suk waved his hand dismissively, smiling as Jin-Ho hurriedly went to his room. Once Jin-Ho was out of sight, the two brothers turned to each other.

“You know Jin-Ho was right. Why didn’t you kill the old sh*t?” Dong-Suk asked, staring at his dongsaeng.

“...”.

“Dong-Soo?” Dong-Suk called out slightly concerned.

“Jin-Ho would be sad,” Dong-Soo finally answered, looking towards the Yoo mansion. “I just thought that if I went to town on these f*ckers, Jin-Ho would look at me differently.”

Dong-Suk didn’t say anything, he understood what his brother meant. Jin-Ho, despite all the abuse he suffered, never wanted to hurt his family. He just wanted to be acknowledged. The boy never wanted to stoop to their level, something both Dong-Suk and Dong-Soo were more than willing to do.

They were different from the naive boy who showed them kindness, but they wouldn’t ruin that to satisfy their urges. For once in their lives, they thought of someone else.

“Let’s get going,” Dong-Suk said, not wanting to dwell on it any longer. He motioned for his brother to follow as they walked towards the servant rooms.

~0~0~0~0~

Jin-Hee hated having dinner with her father and older brother. It always devolved into something asinine as they seemed to boast something they did for the betterment of the Company. These meals were nothing but awkward, awful, and an atrocity to family values.

“Has that S-ranker accepted our deal?” her father asked, his voice a gruff monotone as he peered at her brother over his reading glasses. His eyes cold and calculating, barely reflected the warm light of the chandelier.

“No abeonim” her older brother Jin-Sung sighed, jabbing one of the side dishes with his chopsticks, his disdain evident in the sharp clatter of utensils against porcelain. His jaw tightened, a vein in his temple pulsing with irritation. His brows furrowed as he avoided looking at their father directly.

Jin-hee internally rolled her eyes. It’s been four years since their Guild was established and her father hasn’t given up on trying to control the industry. They have been offering each and every S-Ranker in the country exorbitant amounts of money, yet were consistently ignored. What kind of Hunter would bow their heads to people weaker than them? Her father’s demands were outrageous, thinking they could easily be bought with money when they could just as easily earn it on their own.

She sighed quietly, her frustration simmering beneath a mask of polite indifference. The industry has changed, and old fools like her father still think the world could be controlled by money and influence, when in fact, true power could easily roll over those things. S-rankers were beings beyond human, and to think normal people could control them was laughable at best and a death sentence at worst.

The healer they so desperately wanted to poach, despite their jovial appearance, smashed a monster's head into a pulp on live television. And her father thought he could control that?! madness.

“Has your brother returned yet?” Just as she was ignoring the conversation, her father looked in her direction, his sharp eyes piercing through her thoughts.

Startled, Jin-hee quickly answered, “Not yet. I haven’t seen Jin-Ho in a while. He hasn’t answered my call either.” She fiddled with her chopsticks, her fingers trembling slightly. She avoided meeting his gaze, staring at the untouched rice in her bowl instead.

“That boy” Myunghan shook his head in disappointment before looking at the phone he was holding. Even at dinner her father still worked.

As they continued in silence, the door creaked open slightly, and Kim, her brother’s servant, slipped inside. He moved discreetly to Jin-Sung's side and whispered something in his ear, eliciting a wry smile from Jin-Sung before he retreated to stand among the other servants observing from a distance.

“Abeonim, it seems Jin-Ho has just arrived,” Jin-Sung announced, leaning back in his chair with a look of contempt directed at the empty seat meant for their younger brother.

“Hmm,” was their father’s only response, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

Jin-Hee sighed lightly, the tension in the room palpable. She couldn’t take this any longer. She had made up her mind to quit being the Vice-Guild Master and move to the States. The music industry there was on the rise again, and she had postponed her music career for this tiresome Hunter politics for too long.

Lost in her thoughts about leaving, she barely noticed the door opening once again. Her little brother, Jin-Ho, entered the room with his usual companions, the thugs he was so close with. Jin-Ho had his hands in his pockets, walking silently to his seat while his guards took their positions behind him, blending in with the other guards.

“Abeonim,” Jin-Ho greeted before sitting down. Jin-Sung sneered at him, but Jin-Ho ignored their older brother entirely, his expression unreadable.

“You’re late,” their father said, finally setting his phone down to stare at Jin-Ho.

“I’m sorry… we got caught in traffic,” Jin-Ho replied, nonchalantly placing some beef on his plate.

Their father didn’t respond immediately, his cold gaze fixed on Jin-Ho as if assessing him. The silence stretched, amplifying the tension in the room.

“I heard from your dog,” their father said, earning a light growl from one of Jin-Ho’s guards, “that you fainted.” Jin-Sung scoffed, mocking Jin-Ho’s apparent weakness.

“I reacted badly with the testing machine, Abeonim,” Jin-Ho said calmly, not even looking at Myunghan.

“Very well. I had a talk with the Chairman regarding that incident,” their father continued, his eyes never leaving Jin-Ho. “And he said that you would be returning for power testing three days from now.”

“Hmm,” Jin-Ho hummed in agreement, not bothering to elaborate. This seemed to agitate Myunghan, whose gaze intensified with suspicion and a hint of fear.

Jin-Hee understood their watchfulness. Newly awakened individuals, despite their outward appearances, were immensely powerful compared to regular people. Given how Jin-Ho had been treated, it wouldn’t be surprising if he harbored anger towards their father. But that’s why the guards were present during meals, a precaution since the day Jin-Ho had crushed a wall with his fist. Their father had ordered guards to accompany them during meals, fearing Jin-Ho might lash out.

Jin-Hee mocked her father in her head. Despite Jin-Ho’s awakening, he would never hurt his family. Her sweet, lovable brother still yearned for their father’s acknowledgment, something Myunghan couldn’t comprehend. To him, Jin-Ho was a beast waiting to pounce, not the loving brother Jin-Hee knew, still holding onto a glimmer of hope for his father’s acceptance.

“Well, are you gonna tell me what rank you got?” Myunghan spoke cautiously, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Jin-Ho.

As she watched, Jin-Hee felt a choking pressure emanating from the guards, their stances tense and ready to strike should Jin-Ho make any sudden movements. She glared at the guards, signaling them to back down. They exchanged glances before nodding in understanding.

God, this was going to top the list of the most pathetic dinners she’d ever had to attend.

Turning her gaze towards Jin-Ho’s guards, she caught them giving her a thankful nod. She smiled in return. Despite their appearance, the Hwang siblings deeply cared for Jin-Ho, and being the only family member who didn’t torment the poor boy, she was close to them as well.

Jin-Ho remained silent, staring at his plate, lost in thought.

“Jin-Ho,” their father demanded louder, his patience wearing thin.

“Abeonim, I’m leaving,” Jin-Ho said, standing up abruptly. He cast a sorry glance her way, and Jin-Hee realized even Jin-Ho could no longer endure this household.

“Explain,” their father’s voice had a hard edge as he stood, the chair scraping loudly behind him. He glared at Jin-Ho, his eyes cold and demanding.

“I—” Jin-Ho began, but Jin-Sung cut him off with a sneer. “And what are you gonna do? You’ve just returned home after fainting from a simple rank-testing and haven’t even told us your rank.” His mocking tone was dripping with disdain.

“Hyung, please,” Jin-Hee pleaded, her voice desperate. She looked at her father, silently begging him to stop Jin-Sung, but he only watched Jin-Ho, gauging his reaction.

“You think you’re some hotshot now that you have powers,” Jin-Sung continued to mock Jin-Ho. “Well, guess what? You’re still under this family, so better shut up and do as you’re told.” As he spoke, the room’s atmosphere grew heavier.

“Sir/Ma’am!” In an instant, she was pulled backward along with her brother and father as their guards rushed in, shielding them from Jin-Ho. He stood there, head hung low, as the oppressive pressure increased.

She felt the air in her lungs grow heavier, and a glance at her brother showed he was worse off, gasping for air. Their guards trembled, struggling to withstand the pressure.

“N-no way,” Mr. Kim stuttered, his body shaking as he shielded Jin-Sung.

“Are you sh*tting me!?” one of their guards exclaimed. Turning, she recognized him as an A-rank under their employ. Realization dawned on her—Jin-Ho was an S-ranker.

“Why should I follow you guys any longer?” Jin-Ho’s voice was filled with pain, his eyes staring at his hands even as the Hwang siblings approached him.

“Jin-Ho,” Dong-Suk placed a hand on his shoulder, his face strained. “Stop.” He squeezed Jin-Ho’s shoulder, trying to snap him out of whatever he was doing.

“I’m so done with exceeding your expectations,” Jin-Ho said, and Jin-Hee noticed their father flinch.

“I’m so done.” As Jin-Ho curled his fists, a faint outline of golden gauntlets formed around them. She could hear the sounds of a mirror cracking, emanating from Jin-Ho.

In an instant, as quickly as the pressure had appeared, it vanished. The image of the golden gauntlets disappeared from his hands. Everyone stood still, breathing heavily.

“sh*t!” Jin-Hee glanced at her older brother, seeing the fear in his eyes as he stared at Jin-Ho like he was a monster.

Their father, who had been silent, now had his shoulders sagged, staring blankly at Jin-Ho. She couldn’t read his expression as he looked at their little brother.

“I’m sorry,” Jin-Ho voiced meekly, his eyes filled with guilt as they met hers. “I’ll be leaving now.” He hurriedly exited the room, the doors banging shut behind him. His guards looked at each other before rushing out to follow him.

Nobody said anything, content to keep the silence from shattering. What an awful dinner this was .

Chapter 4: Act 1: Crack in the Mirror IV

Chapter Text

Jin-Ho could feel the beating in his chest as he rushed towards his room. What was he thinking? Reacting so strongly just because his brother, always so difficult, was being his usual self.

The pounding in his ears intensified as he slammed the door open. He stopped in the middle of his room, blood rushing to his head. He couldn’t think; he barely knew what to do now.

His room, usually a sanctuary, felt like a prison. The walls seemed to close in on him, and the air felt thick, suffocating. He clenched and unclenched his fists, the phantom weight of the gauntlets from his outburst still lingering.

Just when he finally decided to stand up for himself and assert that he had enough, that he wanted to live for himself, he crumbled at the mere words of his brother. His brother’s words, laced with contempt and derision, had pierced through his resolve like a dagger. He had felt so sure of himself, so ready to break free, and yet, in an instant, he was reduced to this—a trembling mess, consumed by indecision and fear.

“Why can’t I just be stronger?” he whispered to himself, the words barely audible in the stillness of his room. He sank to his knees, his hands gripping his hair as if trying to pull the thoughts from his head. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He hated this feeling of helplessness, the constant need to meet expectations that felt like chains around his soul.

His father’s blank stare haunted him. He had wanted to see understanding, maybe even support, but instead, there was nothing—just an empty gaze that spoke volumes about his disappointment. And Jin-Hee, his sister, had looked at him with a mix of fear and worse, pity. He couldn’t stand it.

“I’m so done,” he repeated, his voice breaking. The tears flowed freely now, hot and unchecked. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs. The weight of the expectations, the pressure to be perfect, to be a good child, was crushing him. He felt like he was drowning, unable to breathe, unable to escape.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, crumpled on the floor, lost in his anguish, his thoughts swirling in chaos. The sound of footsteps approaching his door barely registered in his mind. The door creaked open, and he looked up, his tear-streaked face contorted with pain.

“Jin-Ho…” It was Dong-Soo, looking hesitant, unsure of what to do. “Are you… okay?”

Jin-Ho couldn’t find the words to respond. He just shook his head, the motion weak and defeated. The door opened wider as the two brothers stepped in, concern etched on their faces.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Dong-Suk asked gently.

Jin-Ho shook his head again, more firmly this time. Talking wouldn’t help. Nothing would help. He just wanted to be alone, to wallow in his misery without anyone else’s eyes on him.

Both brothers hesitated, exchanging a glance before stepping back. “Alright. But we’re here if you need anything,” Dong-Soo said softly before leaving with Dong-Suk, closing the door behind them, leaving Jin-Ho alone once more.

Jin-Ho let out a shuddering breath, his body feeling heavy with exhaustion. He curled up on the floor, pulling his knees to his chest. The room was silent, save for the sound of his ragged breathing and the occasional hiccup as he tried to calm himself. He stared blankly at the wall, the numbness slowly creeping in, dulling the sharp edges of his pain.

He was so tired—tired of trying, tired of pretending, tired of everything. For now, he just wanted to disappear, if only for a little while. His eyes felt heavy, and he just wanted to rest.

Making his way toward the bed, he staggered, his legs feeling like lead. He flopped down, not caring about anything else, the weight of exhaustion pressing him into the mattress. He didn’t bother to change clothes or pull up the covers; he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the tears still drying on his cheeks.

The darkness of the room enveloped him, a silent refuge. The cool fabric of the bedspread was a stark contrast to the heat of his face, and he welcomed the sensation. His mind, a swirling storm of thoughts and emotions moments ago, began to quiet. The bluish glow from his chest went unnoticed as he closed his eyes, feeling the tension slowly drain from his body. Each breath deepened, calming him as he slipped into the sweet embrace of sleep. The day's turmoil faded away, and Jin-Ho finally allowed himself to relax.

The world could wait until tomorrow. For now, all he needed was to rest and escape, if only for a little while.

~0~0~0~0~

Have you ever seen a glimmer of light when you close your eyes? It’s blindingly bright at times, and it shakes in irregular patterns. This sensation, often called a phosphene, brings forth a vision that haunts me like an optical echo. It begins as an unpleasant nightmare: three faceless mannequins lie sprawled on a bloodstained carpet, their broken forms spilling red beads. Another mannequin's hand rests ominously on my shoulder.

I turn, meeting the gaze of a loudspeaker embedded in the mannequin's featureless face. Despite the silence, I feel its vibrations resonate within me, echoing words I cannot hear but know too well. The pulse matches memories etched in my mind, causing my heart to quicken in response.

This cursed power of recall has erased all pleasant childhood memories, replacing them each time I close my eyes. My reaction remains unchanged: I take the flower slipped into my hand and pierce it into the mannequin's chest. From the wound, a blossoming tree emerges, its beauty akin to tender caresses and soothing sounds. Yet, its branches carry the sharpness of past scoldings, each leaf brushing my cheeks with painful reminders. Bound in place as if by invisible ties, my body becomes a canvas of scars. One, two... black marbles tumble from the wounds. How long have I endured this cycle of pain?

Nightmares have plagued me for the better part of my life. When I close my eyes, the memories of that time haunt me; when I open them, a reality almost unbearable unfolds. I chose to keep my eyes shut, preferring the echoes of the past over new sources of agony. But the Prescripts continue unabated. City dwellers meet diverse fates dictated by these decrees, yet all outcomes share a common thread of cruelty. Their resentment, screams, tears, rage, and death—it's all too much for my eyes.

Sometimes, I ponder what life might have been had I remained a commoner, subject to the same Prescripts as them. Perhaps life was simpler then. Perhaps death would have offered respite, allowing me to breathe anew in another form. Why did the Prescripts decree otherwise?

I trace the nightmares back to recall the past; it seemed everything had ended, and I planned to follow suit, yet lacked the courage to end my own life. Instead, I picked up what I thought was the final Prescript, reading it slowly. To my surprise, the fresh-looking document bore a command to become a Messenger, not to meet death. There was no mention of salvation or release. Numbness overcame me; I collapsed to the floor, laughter erupting louder than ever before. I laughed at my state, at the irony that I had sought to end my life due to Prescripts, only for them to deny me even that choice. Where had my free will fled?

Frustration engulfed me; not even my own life was within my control, everything dictated by the Prescripts. If I cannot shatter them, I resolved to at least create a hairline crack. By showing the masses that resistance against the Prescripts is possible, perhaps something might change. It has to. I Insist that it will. With newfound hope guiding me, I found the strength to rise.

Yet, a realization dawns upon me now. Was it truly hope that I felt, or was my intended act—ignoring the Prescript and ending my life as planned—more an expression of free will?

What is the right way to live in this place, I wonder? I do not dream of prideful achievements; I only seek to endure a life bearable enough to satisfy. I thought I had found an answer, but in the end, the Prescripts prevailed. They embody the City's will as much as they do mine. I have reached my limit, sensing an insurmountable barrier. Yet, amidst my resignation, I do not feel entirely desolate. Perhaps there exists someone who can navigate the current rather than defy it. But that person is not me; I lack the capability for such feats, I lack the courage deemed as a tarnished.

So, I seek someone to uncover the answer in my stead. I hope they can show me how to find solace within this perpetual nightmare.

~0~0~0~0~

Jin-Ho woke with a start, his breath ragged and heart pounding against his chest. He pushed himself upright in bed, the room cloaked in the muted glow of streetlights seeping through half-drawn curtains. Shadows danced on the walls, amplifying the eeriness of the predawn stillness. Beads of sweat prickled on his forehead, and he wiped them away with an unsteady hand. Beside him, the digital clock’s crimson digits glared ominously: 4:30 AM.

"What was that?" he muttered aloud, the unsettling remnants of his dream weaving through his consciousness. Initially dismissing them as fleeting nocturnal phantasms, Jin-Ho now struggled to ignore their haunting coherence. First, the inexplicable loss of consciousness before a grotesque doorway of grasping hands; then the surreal encounter with his doppelganger amid the cold, industrial confines of an underground facility—where he inexplicably absorbed the doppelganger's memories and identity. Now, the most chilling of all: witnessing his doppelganger's brutal act of familial slaughter.

As he recalled the vivid details, a shiver coursed through Jin-Ho's body. His doppelganger had committed an act so heinous, so contrary to his own instincts to flee. And amidst the chaos of the dream, there lingered fragments of enigmatic dialogue—a cryptic reference to a "Prescript" and an appointment as a messenger of the Index—that blurred the lines between dream and reality.

With each passing moment, Jin-Ho found himself grappling with the disconcerting notion that these dreams held deeper significance. They seemed to hint at a hidden truth or purpose beyond his comprehension, stirring a mixture of fear and curiosity within him. The boundary between waking life and the realm of dreams had never felt more opened, leaving him uncertain and uneasy about what will happen from now on.

Was this phenomenon tied to his newfound abilities? Jin-Ho pondered this question as he sat on the edge of his bed, the echoes of his unsettling dreams still lingering in his mind. It felt as though what he saw in those dreams was bleeding through into his waking life, influencing his actions. The memory of that dinner where he had unexpectedly manifested those gauntlets haunted him. If these episodes continued unchecked, he feared the consequences could be unpredictable and potentially dangerous.

With a determined breath, Jin-Ho rose from his bed and made his way to the drawer where he kept his phone. Retrieving it, he quickly navigated to the Hunter Forums, his heart fluttering with a mix of apprehension and hope. Scrolling through the threads, he was relieved to find others sharing similar experiences. Clicking into a few discussions, Jin-Ho began skimming through them, absorbing snippets of advice and anecdotes from fellow awakeners.

Among the various classifications and powers, he noticed a recurring theme: many newly awakened individuals who had trouble controlling their mana tended to lean towards roles like mage, healer, and evoker. Reflecting on his own experiences, he realized that his abilities resonated most closely with the evoker class.

Determined to gain better control over his powers, Jin-Ho honed in on threads discussing power management techniques. Amid the multitude of posts, he stumbled upon a detailed tutorial from the American Hunters Association. It offered a more comprehensive guide compared to what he had previously found on the Korean forums—a small comfort, considering his proficiency in English.

Watching the tutorial video attentively, Jin-Ho observed as the instructor demonstrated techniques for mana control and discussed the intuitive nature of power usage once awakened. The key, it seemed, lay in understanding and feeling the energy before attempting to direct it—a process largely guided by instinct honed at the moment of awakening.

Absorbing these newfound insights, Jin-Ho's determination surged. It became clear that mastering his abilities preemptively was crucial to avoiding unforeseen consequences.

"I hope this works. First time's a charm, eh?" he joked to himself, trying to muster confidence.

Drawing a deep breath, Jin-Ho focused inward, feeling the vast reservoir of mana within him. It surged like an expansive sea, its depth immeasurable and far exceeding Dong-Suk’s capacity. He shook off the overwhelming thought and concentrated on guiding the energy through his body.

The mana responded to his focus, and soon a delicate wisp of bluish light emerged from him, swirling in a mesmerizing dance of ethereal petals. Curious to see the effect, he approached the mirror on the wall.

In his reflection, he witnessed petals originating beneath his feet, swirling around him in a protective cocoon of soft blue light. His eyes glowed with the same hue. A smile spread across Jin-Ho's face; progress was evident.

Diving deeper into concentration, Jin-Ho contemplated the phantom gauntlets he had unintentionally summoned previously. If coating his body in this protective layer was achievable, then manifesting those gauntlets should be within his grasp.

With renewed determination, he visualized the gauntlets forming in his hands again. He felt his mana responding, accompanied by a faint sound like cracking glass. Checking the mirror, he found it intact and realized the sound was coming from within him.

Realizing this, Jin-Ho adjusted his approach. "Let's try again," he muttered, focusing on the familiar sensation of glass cracking as a signal of his powers activating.

With heightened concentration, Jin-Ho channeled his mana once more. This time, a clear chant formed in his mind.

“Open the Gate,” he voiced instinctively.

Reality seemed to bend as a sharp sound of shattering glass echoed in the room. Jin-Ho felt a surge of force hurtling towards the wall. Petals burst forth from him, casting a soft, iridescent glow as a magnificent spectacle unfolded.

Yelping in surprise, Jin-Ho realized he had summoned more than intended. Landing awkwardly on the floor, a resounding clang announced the arrival of a greatsword adorned with golden chains and a lock, alongside a white cloak intricately embellished with gold, draping over the sleek black suit.

"Ow!" Jin-Ho winced, rubbing his sore backside and blinking back a tear of discomfort. As he rose to his feet, another revelation struck him—he had grown significantly taller. Shocked, he realized he now stood almost as tall as Dong-Soo, reaching up to the man's chin.

Speechless, Jin-Ho stood before the mirror, awestruck by his altered appearance. Everything about him had changed. He towered taller now, his once-custard color hair transformed into a striking mix of white with streaks of black. The clothes he wore exuded style, adorned with tasteful gold accents that added a touch of elegance without being gaudy. As he ran his hands over his body, he noted the new muscularity that contrasted sharply with his previous lean frame. A blush crept across his cheeks at what he was about to do.

“Hrg!” he grunted, striking a pose in a side chest, marveling at how the muscles beneath his clothes seemed to outline them perfectly. The fabric stretched with his movement, hinting at its flexibility.

“I hope to God those idiots never find out I did this,” Jin-Ho whispered to himself, imagining the teasing he would endure from the two, especially Dong-Soo and his iconic mischievous grin.

Shaking off those thoughts, Jin-Ho turned his attention to the sword lying on the floor. Picking it up, he examined its unique design. The sword was locked, its scabbard connected to a golden lock, yet there was no visible key. He furrowed his brow in puzzlement.

“Hmm,” he hummed, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. Aside from the absence of a ponytail, he looked exactly like his doppelganger. “Who are you really?” he questioned aloud, meeting his own gaze in the mirror.

A whirlwind of thoughts and emotions churned in his mind as he recalled everything related to his doppelganger. Prescripts, Index, Messenger—these words surged to the forefront of his thoughts.

“It's time to find out,” he declared firmly, staring intently at his own reflection. If pulling had allowed him to resemble his doppelganger, then perhaps pulling harder would reveal more about this person.

Delving deeper into himself, Jin-Ho grasped at the thread connecting him to his doppelganger's memories. As he pulled, a rush of scenes and experiences flooded his mind. He watched as Yan Jin-Ho—born into a wealthy family in L Corps' defunct Nest—found himself reluctantly aligned with a syndicate for protection, and not just any syndicate, but the notorious Index. A group bound by the enigmatic Prescripts, whose followers were compelled to obey their cryptic directives under threat of the Proxies, the Index’s merciless enforcers.

Initially performing menial tasks, their actions grew darker over time. Some questioned their orders, but defiance meant facing the Proxies' ruthless justice. Then came the pivotal Prescript—Yan Jin-Ho was instructed to commit the unthinkable: the brutal murder of his own family, nailing them through the heart. It sickened Jin-Ho to his core, understanding the pressures and hatred that must have driven Yan Jin-Ho to such a horrific act.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of these revelations, Jin-Ho released the mental connection, gasping for breath as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, horror etched on his face.

“That’s messed up!” he cursed aloud, collapsing onto his bed the bluish glow cutting out as the flowers dissipated and the sword vanishing into motes of blue dust, struggling to process the weight of what he had learned.

His powers seemed to connect him to an alternate version of himself—a realization that dawned on Jin-Ho as he reflected on the bizarre events. Recalling the unsettling door from his first fainting episode, he understood that grabbing that hand meant grasping Yan Jin-Ho's. If that was one version of himself, then those other hands reaching out to him must represent different iterations of who he could be.

Pausing to organize his thoughts, Jin-Ho considered the implications. If he could pull one version of himself through that gate, then theoretically, using his powers to connect to that gateway might allow him to summon and embody another version of himself.

The power he had awakened transcended the abilities of normal Hunters. "Mirror World," he murmured aloud, finding the name fitting for his newfound ability.

"I need to get to the Association for power testing. Waiting three days is out of the question," he declared, rising from his seat. His power was too unique for him to remain ignorant of its capabilities, and accessing the family Guild's training room was not an option—Jin-Ho couldn't risk his brother discovering his abilities.

Reflecting on the chaotic events of the previous dinner, Jin-Ho reaffirmed his determination to leave his family's household, despite his emotional outburst—running off and shedding tears before falling asleep. Opening his drawer, he meticulously laid out the clothes he would need on his bed, preparing to pack his travel bag.

With resolve, Jin-Ho stuffed his bag with essentials, ensuring he had everything he might need. Retrieving his wallet from the drawer, he secured it in the Messenger suit he still wore, noting with a twinge of surprise that he had not yet dismissed his Index form.

With his bag packed and ready, he cast a lingering glance around his room, silently bidding farewell to the familiar surroundings. As he opened the door to leave, his eyes fell upon the two sleeping siblings against the wall, their heads leaned together in a rare moment of sibling closeness.

"Pft," he stifled a laugh at the sight. Dong-Soo lay sprawled on his older brother's shoulder, a trail of drool escaping his lips, snoring loudly enough to wake the dead, yet remarkably failing to disturb Dong-Suk's slumber.

Approaching them quietly, Jin-Ho dropped his bag and playfully tapped their cheeks.

"Wakey Wakey~" he teased, nudging them gently.

"Gegk!" Jin-Ho's nudge was perhaps a tad too forceful, causing Dong-Suk to startle awake, his eyes scanning the room in alarm. Meanwhile, Dong-Soo flopped unceremoniously to the floor with a thud.

"Jin-Ho?!" Dong-Suk exclaimed, taking in the young man’s altered appearance. "Wha-What the hell happened to you?"

“Um, can we do this later? I really want to leave this house,” Jin-Ho deflected, diverting Dong-Suk's attention towards the still-snoring Dong-Soo.

“What?” Dong-Suk's incredulous voice softened slightly as he glanced between Jin-Ho and the bag beside him. “You better tell me later, or I’ll wring the hell out of you.” Jin-Ho nodded in agreement before turning his attention to the still-sleeping Dong-Soo.

Knowing Dong-Soo wasn't a morning person, Jin-Ho opted for a more direct approach, delivering a swift kick to the man’s stomach. "f*ck! The hell is wrong with you!?" He exclaimed.

Dong-Soo grumbled incoherently as he struggled to wake as he rubbed the sore spot, a trail of drool still clinging to his chin as he stood up. His initial annoyance melted away as he blinked up at Jin-Ho, noticing the changes in his appearance. "Wait, did you dye your hair?" Dong-Soo asked, curiosity replacing his irritation.

"I'll explain later," Jin-Ho replied, motioning towards the older men. "I don't want to stay here any longer." taking his bag he looked at the two eyes downcast.

"So we're leaving now?" Dong-Soo's voice echoed after Jin-Ho, who strode purposefully down the hallway, his gait more confident than ever. "Wait up!" Dong-Soo called out, hastening his steps to catch up with his younger brother. His eyes widened as he realized Jin-Ho now stood nearly chest-high compared to him, a noticeable change from their usual height difference. "Is it just me, or did you grow taller?" he asked, a mix of awe and confusion in his tone. He couldn't help but notice the sleek, stylish clothes Jin-Ho wore, complete with subtle gold accents that added a touch of elegance. "And where the hell did you get those clothes?" he prodded, momentarily forgetting Jin-Ho's current reluctance to explain.

Jin-Ho sighed softly, turning to face Dong-Soo. "I'll tell you everything later," he said, a hint of irritation coloring his voice as he noted Dong-Soo's distracted demeanor.

"Any plans on where we'll stay?" Dong-Suk inquired as they entered the expansive garage, his eyes scanning over the assortment of vehicles lined up neatly.

"I was thinking of a hotel, but..." Jin-Ho's gaze drifted across the rows of cars before settling on a luxurious motorhome parked inconspicuously in a far corner. "Why is that still here?" he mused aloud, pointing at the vehicle with a curious tilt of his head.

Memories of his cousin Soohyun using the motorhome for her glamorous photo shoots and set filmings flashed through Jin-Ho's mind.

"She must have forgotten about it," Dong-Suk remarked casually, his eyes lingering on the vehicle with a thoughtful expression.

Jin-Ho stepped closer to the Marathon coach, inspecting its sleek design and the familiar logo emblazoned on its side.

"Got the keys?" Jin-Ho asked, glancing back at Dong-Suk, who immediately dashed towards a small booth tucked away in the corner of the garage. There was a brief rustling sound before Dong-Suk exclaimed in triumph, holding up a key.

"Found it!" Dong-Suk announced, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he hurried back to join Jin-Ho.

"Looks like we have our accommodation sorted," Jin-Ho said, a small smile tugging at his lips as some of the tension of their impending departure eased.

They climbed into the motorhome, greeted by the opulent interior Jin-Ho remembered well from Soohyun's past visits.

"Soohyun really knows how to go all out," Dong-Soo grumbled good-naturedly as he settled onto one of the plush sofas.

Jin-Ho deposited his bags, watching as Dong-Suk checked the fuel levels efficiently, nodding in approval as he found them sufficient.

"So, where to, Boss?" Dong-Suk inquired, turning towards Jin-Ho with an expectant look.

"The Association," Jin-Ho replied firmly, noting Dong-Suk's raised eyebrow. "I want to use their testing facilities as soon as they open. I prefer not to attract attention," he explained, taking a seat beside Dong-Soo and gently nudging him to make space.

"We've got plenty of seats," Dong-Soo grumbled good-naturedly, shifting to accommodate Jin-Ho despite his grumbling.

"So, care to explain?" Dong-Soo glanced at Jin-Ho, motioning to his entire altered appearance. "What's all this about?"

"It's my power," Jin-Ho replied, clenching his fist slightly, causing the gauntlets to materialize briefly before fading away.

Dong-Soo straightened up, leaning closer to inspect Jin-Ho's hand with genuine interest. "Cool!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he examined the intricate design of the gauntlet.

"Anything else up your sleeve?" Dong-Soo asked eagerly, turning back to Jin-Ho with anticipation in his gaze.

"Well, there's this." Jin-Ho concentrated, releasing the metaphorical "chain" he held, and his entire body began to glow as he reverted to his usual appearance. He smiled at Dong-Soo's surprised expression before transforming again, this time into his Yan form with glowing petals swirling around him.

"So, you get a little older and have pretty petals surrounding you?" Dong-Soo remarked with a hint of disappointment.

Jin-Ho gave Dong-Soo a deadpan look.

"Okay, okay! You've got a weird transforming ability, I get it!" Dong-Soo hastily backtracked, sensing Jin-Ho's patience waning.

Dong-Suk, who had been observing quietly, interjected, "There's more to it, isn't there, Jin-Ho?" His piercing gaze fixed on Jin-Ho, who simply nodded in confirmation.

"Very well, buckle up. I'll get us to the Association in no time," Dong-Suk declared, turning back to start the engine.

The motorhome rumbled to life with a deep thrum of its engine, vibrating slightly as they maneuvered through the expansive garage. Approaching the formidable gates of the Yoo household, the atmosphere shifted palpably. A drowsy guard, startled from his reverie, snapped to attention at the sight of the approaching vehicle. His surprise was evident, his hands trembling as he swiftly swung open the gate upon recognizing Dong-Suk in the driver's seat.

As they smoothly passed through the open gate, Jin-Ho glanced out the window and couldn't help but notice the guard's pale face and nervous demeanor. Dong-Soo, always the one to alleviate tension with humor, seized the opportunity to inject a bit of levity.

"Did that guy look like he was about to sh*t his pants?" Dong-Soo quipped, his tone a blend of jest and genuine curiosity at the guard's visibly startled reaction.

Dong-Suk, focused on the road ahead, remained silent as they left the estate behind them, the motorhome now rolling steadily along the quiet streets.

"It's probably because of me," Jin-Ho murmured softly, his voice tinged with regret as he stared out the window with a hint of melancholy. "Abeonim must have warned everyone not to provoke me."

The brothers lapsed into a contemplative silence, the weight of Jin-Ho's words hanging heavily between them. Since his emotional outburst the previous day, an air of avoidance surrounded Jin-Ho's wing of the estate, as if the entire household sought to tiptoe around him to prevent further outbursts.

Jin-Hee's brief visit had been a brief moment of acknowledgment. Standing hesitantly outside Jin-Ho's door, her expression spoke volumes of concern and sympathy. She chose not to intrude on his solitude but nodded respectfully to the Hwang siblings before quietly retreating.

Through the window, they had glimpsed Jin-Sung's hurried departure, clearly unnerved by Jin-Ho's emotional display. Myunghan followed shortly after, glancing at the wing Jin-Ho resided and making eye contact with the guards before nodding and leaving.

The staff stayed despite their unease about the S-Ranker in the house, likely due to something Jin-Ho's father said before he left.

"Don't dwell on it," Dong-Suk advised quietly, focusing on the road ahead as they headed to the Association. His calm demeanor reassured them as they navigated the city streets, leaving the complexities of the Yoo household behind.