* * *

“There’s always been a rumor that an alien was locked up in the fifth basement of the Awakener Safety Department, but they say it’s real this time. Apparently, early yesterday morning, not only the Director and Chief but even the Minister and Vice Minister rushed over there. And the Vice Minister hasn’t shown up all day today, as if he’s hiding. On top of that, even Kang Yigeon, a former hunter of the department, was summoned. So, something must have happened down there.”

“……”

“If the Vice Guild Master shared some good intel with us, it’d help our guild grow a lot. Come on, give me a hint. You know something about the Hate Phenomenon, don’t you?”

There wasn’t anything he could say for now.

Instead, Kang Yigeon changed the subject, hoping to divert the conversation and satisfy his own curiosity.

“How’s Cherry doing?”

“You’re suddenly asking about my dog?”

“……”

“She’s fine, of course. This morning, she sprawled out in front of the door, begging me not to leave. Want to see the video?”

Simjin pulled out his phone and showed him a video of a brown-furred dog acting adorably.

He didn’t stop there—he scrolled through photos, finally landing on one featuring a white-furred dog thatKang Yigeonhadn’t seen before.

“And this one?”

“Oh, I just brought her home from the shelter yesterday. She’s different from Cherry—much calmer and timid. I named her Pickle, hoping she grows up to be bold and spirited.”

“Did you plan on adopting another dog?”

“Not at all. But seeing her shivering in the corner was just too pitiful. And when I found out she was scheduled for euthanasia the next day, I brought her home. Isn’t she cute?”

“……”

“Now I’ve got more mouths to feed, so I need to make more money. You do know something about the Hate Phenomenon, don’t you? Is it good intel? Huh? Could it make some money?”

Kang Yigeon didn’t register Simjin’s words.

The worst-case scenario was drawing near.

---

Three days after the Hate Phenomenon erupted, the Awakener Safety Department finally released Seohwa from the interrogation room.

Every one of his warnings—about the Gwangju Dungeon, the Maritime Dungeon, Canada’s first Grade-5 Dungeon, and even Team Leader Go’s pregnancy—had come true.

Having verified his claims, the department decided to trust him.

They couldn’t afford to waste time doubting someone who had predicted “the end of the world in three years.”

“I thought I’d die if I couldn’t wash up. You have a shower towel, right? I have sensitive skin, so it better be soft.”

Without a word, Kang Yigeon shoved Seohwa into the shower room and slammed the door shut.

“If you want to join me, you’re welcome to.”

Seohwa called out playfully toward the closed door. There was no response.

Once he was sureKang Yigeonwas far enough away, he turned on the shower.

The sound of running water masked any noise as he stripped off his combat suit, which had been sticky with blood and dirt.

Underneath, his toned, scar-free body was revealed.

No, not scar-free—his body was riddled with marks, some from wounds that hadn’t been properly treated after fierce battles.

When he unwrapped the bandages on his left wrist, his bruised, purplish skin came into view.

True to his S-rank physique, the bleeding had already stopped.

Seohwa flexed his wrist experimentally—it felt stiff.

Not just his wrist, but his entire body seemed to cry out for rest and treatment.

“Well, I’m not planning to move much for a few days, so I’ll recover quickly.”

He balled up the dirty bandages in his hand.

‘Is your wound okay?’

‘Let me treat it for you.’

One constant remained, even as the world hurtled toward destruction.

In every timeline, at the very last moment, Kang Yigeon would tend to Seohwa’s wounds.

From the second timeline onward, when the rejection of the time stream took effect,Kang Yigeonwould always wrap Seohwa’s injuries with trembling hands and an anguished expression.

How could someone about to face their own death notice another person’s wounds?

With a countdown to the world’s destruction glaring on the system window, how could anyone think to care for someone else?

Was it love?

Seohwa didn’t believe it.

Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to throw away the crumpled bandages and instead stashed them in his inventory.

“Ugh…”

As the shower water touched his raw wounds, sharp stings coursed through his body.

Seohwa gritted his teeth and finished washing quickly.

A short while later, he pulled a clean robe from his inventory and stepped out of the shower.

Right in front of the adjoining lounge stood Kang Yigeon, looking deeply troubled.

“Why are you standing there like you’re being punished? Just sit and wait.”

Seohwa entered the lounge, rubbing his wet hair with a towel, and sat in a rolling chair.

“Is it true you’re officially assigned as my handler? Did the Guild Master really approve it?”

The department had decided to keep Seohwa under surveillance for both protection and monitoring, and Kang Yigeon had been chosen as his watcher.

No one else possessed both the mental fortitude to suppress violent urges around Seohwa and the dual S-rank skills in offense and mind manipulation required to control him.

Just like in every previous timeline.

“I like you, Kang Yigeon. I don’t trust anyone else. Especially in a timeline filled with such strong hatred, everyone seems eager to kill me. But with your self-control and patience? You’re the only one I can rely on.”

“……”

“But stealing the guild’s only S-rank must’ve been a hard sell. Simjin must’ve agreed to some major concessions from the department to let you go…”

Seohwa trailed off, then turned to look at Kang Yigeon.

“Wait, you didn’t tell Simjin that the world’s going to end, did you?”

“I informed the heads of the major Hunter organizations that a regressor claiming the world’s end has appeared.”

“Ah… No wonder he cooperated. Simjin must’ve been shocked.”

Seohwa turned back to the mirror, drying his hair.

Kang Yigeon, observing Seohwa, noticed a faint trace of concern on his face—for Simjin’s mental state.

“Hunter Seohwa.”

“Hmm?”

“In the previous timeline, were you the Guild Master of Danbaek?”

Seohwa’s hands paused.

Through the mirror, their gazes met.

Seohwa lowered the towel and spun his chair around.

“Sharp as always.”

A wry smile crossed his pale face.

“Yeah. In the first timeline, I was Danbaek’s Guild Master. Instead of a Vice Guild Master, I had two aides—one was you, the other was Simjin. But I guess now there’s only a Vice Guild Master?”

“You were a Guild Master at such a young age?”

“Well, I did create the guild, so my age didn’t matter.”

At Seohwa’s words, Kang Yigeon’s eyebrows twitched.

Seohwa pointed to his own hair.

“Look. What color is my hair?”

“……”

“White. And what does ‘Danbaek’ mean?”

“……”

“‘Dan’ as in purity, and ‘Baek’ as in white. I named it after my hair color. Now that I think about it, it’s strange. Since I created the guild, a world where I don’t exist shouldn’t have a guild named Danbaek… but Danbaek is always Danbaek.”

Seohwa’s reasoning was sound.

And Kang Yigeon held a clue he hadn’t shared with Seohwa—something that might answer this mystery.

Back before he joined the guild.

“Guild Master Simjin,”Kang Yigeonhad once said, “I’m not joining your guild.”

“Why? I said I’d meet all your conditions. What exactly do you find so unacceptable?”

“The guild name.”

“What’s wrong with ‘CherryStrawberryLemon’?”

“…”

“Fine. If changing the guild name will convince you to join, I’ll do it. What kind of name do you like?”

“Danbaek.”

“What?”

“Danbaek. As in ‘pure and white.’ If the guild name is Danbaek, I’ll join.”

Years ago, when Simjin scouted Kang Yigeon, he suggested the word Danbaek—a word that had been circling in his mind—as the guild’s name.

Simjin’s face took on a curious mix of astonishment and wonder.

“Danbaek… Danbaek. That’s so strange. Lately, I’ve had this word stuck in my head, too. It’s like it’s been shrouded in mist—I couldn’t quite grasp it. But it felt like something I had to figure out. Hearing you say it now, I think that word was Danbaek. How fascinating…”

And so, the CherryStrawberryLemon guild became the Danbaek guild, and Kang Yigeon left his previous position to join them.

According to Seohwa, both Simjin and Kang Yigeon retained fragments of memories from alternate timelines buried deep in their subconscious.

‘If that’s true, then that sense of loss…’

The unexplained sense of loss that had plagued him since childhood.

Finally, the first faint clue began to surface.

* * *