* * *

Kang Yigeon’s eyes glinted with hostility.

“In the past timelines, you weren’t this desperate because you thought there’d always be another chance.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

Seohwa trailed off as he saw Kang Yigeon’s expression.

He realized it was pointless to argue.

This timeline was worse, sure, but he hadn’t been free of resentment in the others either.

His many experiences had taught him that trying to explain was a waste of time.

“Think whatever you want. I’m going to sleep now. Kang Yigeon, you should rest too. Starting tomorrow, we’ll be busy, so conserve your energy.”

He was right.

From the next day onward, Seohwa didn’t spend a single day in their temporary lodging.

They were constantly on the move—mostly in dungeons.

“See that monster with the horn on its head? You need to extract it without damaging it. It can be refined into an A-grade weapon.”

“Between those strawberry bushes, there’s a tiny snail struggling in a spider’s web. If you save it, a hidden mission will appear, and completing it rewards you with snail mucus. Combine it to create a double XP item.”

“Chase the eagle-like monster. It builds multiple nests but only lays real eggs in one. The fake eggs can be synthesized into an elixir.”

Seohwa remembered every detail—when and where dungeons would appear, and all the hidden missions and useful items within them.

Kang Yigeon found it suspicious.

Even with a list, memorizing this level of detail would be difficult.

Yet Seohwa seemed to know even the most trivial things.

When Kang Yigeon voiced his doubts, Seohwa answered as if he’d expected the question.

“The other expedition members I ventured with in the sixth-grade dungeons told me. They shared all their knowledge about sub-missions, hidden quests, and rare items they’d discovered.”

“They hated you starting from the second timeline, yet they shared critical information like that?”

“They did precisely because it was critical. The expeditions were doomed to fail, so they shared their most valuable knowledge with the one person who could take it back to the past. Their hatred for me and their sense of duty were separate matters.”

As they spent more time together, Kang Yigeon noticed that Seohwa often wore a faraway expression, as if longing for a distant past.

His current expression was no different.

“You exploited their sense of righteousness and discarded them.”

Kang Yigeon didn’t miss the opportunity to wound Seohwa again.

Seohwa’s cheek twitched, as if he were biting the inside of it.

But he soon raised a corner of his mouth in a sly smile.

“Exactly. Even if they despised me, they couldn’t ignore the greater good. I took advantage of that, and I’ll do it again in this timeline too.”

“…….”

“So, Kang Yigeon, keep cooperating. Even if you hate me, the world still needs saving. Now, do you see that big tree? There’s a hole up there…”

As Seohwa quickly changed the subject, Kang Yigeon considered saying something sharp again but decided against it.

No one else would understand why he refrained, even though he knew how to hurt Seohwa most deeply.

---

The two men cleared fifteen dungeons over the course of three weeks.

Kang Yigeon figured that while they were at it, it wouldn’t hurt to assess Seohwa’s abilities.

But the dungeons Seohwa chose were all grade 2 or below, relatively safe places often referred to as “herbal dungeons” because one could leisurely gather herbs there.

For an S-rank Hunter like Kang Yigeon, these dungeons could be cleared half-asleep.

Seohwa didn’t even participate in direct combat.

Instead, he would tap rocks with the back of his hand, sniff the roots of trees, or scuttle around like an insect in search of hidden missions.

And when monsters appeared?

“Oh no, a monster! Kang Yigeon! Protect the precious future!”

He’d immediately hand over the fight to Kang Yigeon.

With no other choice, Kang Yigeon would draw his flaming sword.

Seohwa, meanwhile, would gaze at him with sparkling eyes from behind.

“As expected, the flaming sword is so flashy. Kang Yigeon, you’re such a cold person, but your skill and weapon are incredibly fiery.”

Kang Yigeon ignored Seohwa’s endless teasing and jokes, except for one occasion when he inadvertently reacted.

“Your weapon is so hot, Kang Yigeon. Now that I think about it, is it just the weapon that’s hot? Or is it another kind of weapon? If that’s also a type of weapon, would it count as one? You know, the kind that leaves someone moaning and unable to say anything when you thrust it in and wiggle it around?”

Kang Yigeon couldn’t believe his ears.

“What does that mean?”

“What do you think it means? You’re not clueless.”

“…”

“Why? Don’t tell me you’re not well-endowed in this timeline, Kang Yigeon?”

Seeing Seohwa’s sly grin, Kang Yigeon couldn’t bring himself to ask, ‘How would you know whether I’m well-endowed or not?’

“That’s harassment. It’s unpleasant, so stop.”

“Well, that’s new. You didn’t seem so offended before. Are you seriously upset? Whenever I praised your ‘second weapon,’ you always seemed to like it in other timelines.”

“Are you telling me I enjoyed talking to you in those timelines?”

“Of course not. You hated it. But when it came to those remarks, you never really stopped me. You’d just wrinkle your nose a little, and that was it.”

I didn’t get angry? Why on earth not?

Looking at Kang Yigeon, who was now frowning in silence, Seohwa gave an awkward laugh.

“Alright, I’ll hold back. But, well, it’s such a habit for me that it might slip out unconsciously. If it bothers you, feel free to blow my head off.”

Not long after, Seohwa commented, “Kang Yigeon, your stamina is like phlogiston, isn’t it? It never burns out.”

It was a risqué joke Kang Yigeon often heard from others, but instead of decapitating Seohwa, he simply wrinkled his nose slightly.

Seohwa seemed emboldened by this and occasionally let similar remarks slip.

---

Because the schedule involved non-stop dungeon crawling for three weeks, the only time for reports was during transit between dungeons.

Reports like, ‘Today we obtained such-and-such items,’ or, ‘We’re now en route to the next dungeon,’ were always met with the same directive: ‘This time, assess Seohwa’s combat capabilities.’

Though Kang Yigeon wasn’t obligated to follow government orders since he was merely cooperating with them as an equal, he, too, wanted to evaluate Seohwa’s combat skills.

So, in the final dungeon of the third week, when monsters appeared, Kang Yigeon stood back and observed.

“What are you doing? Monsters are here! The precious future is at risk!”

“This time, you deal with them.”

“What?”

“Use your skills or summon your weapon to handle it. Don’t you have your own weapon? An ego weapon, I believe.”

Until now, Seohwa had only revealed his ability to rewind time through ‘Flight of Time.’

He’d disclosed nothing about any other skills, natural abilities, or traits.

In the ‘Soul System’ skills consumed an energy called ‘soul force,’ while natural abilities drew on energy unique to the user’s traits, each with its own name.

For instance, Kang Yigeon’s Pyromancer and Mentalist were skills powered by soul force.

His ability to instinctively grasp others’ psyches was a natural ability derived from his Mentalist trait, which used mental energy.

Similarly, his immunity to fire damage was a natural ability of his Pyromancer trait, powered by ‘fire energy.’

Awakened beings with the Mage trait possessed natural abilities called magic, fueled by ‘magic energy.’

However, Mages typically had very few skills—just one or two at most—and relied primarily on their natural abilities.

Seohwa, however, had another ability besides ‘Flight of Time’: he could turn objects into items.

Kang Yigeon had never heard of such magic among the ten known natural abilities of Mages.

Was this another trait?

Or was Seohwa an exception with an unusually high number of skills?

No matter how much Kang Yigeon asked, Seohwa refused to answer.

He only replied when asked what kind of weapon he had.

“Oh, I have the cutest ego weapon! It’s such a little charmer. Jealous?”

There were only three known ego weapons—an enchanted spear owned by a South African Hunter, a spiked mace wielded by an Indian Hunter, and a short sword housed in a New York museum.

When Seohwa claimed to have another, people were stunned and urged him to reveal it.

Seohwa simply shook his head.

“You’ll see it naturally during training. I’ll keep it secret for now to make your training more effective. And because I want to see your surprised faces. Spoiling the surprise would be boring.”

With a playful wink, he left bureaucrats tearing their hair out in frustration.

* * *