* * *
Even after I said it out loud, it didn’t feel real.
An unimaginable amount of money—so much that I couldn’t spend it all even if I were reborn multiple times.
On top of that, the piles of bribes stacked in a warehouse and this house itself…
Just how filthy rich was he?
What shocked me more was that all this money was just sitting in a bank account, untouched.
Normally, people with this kind of wealth are obsessed with investing it or at least diversifying their risks.
Suddenly, my past life—where I used to stress over the price of lunch—felt miserably pathetic.
Is this just how S-ranks live?
I swallowed hard and put my phone back in my pocket.
It felt like I’d seen something I wasn’t supposed to.
“…Guess I’ll eat first.”
It looked like it’d take half a day just to explore the house, so I headed to the kitchen to get something to eat.
But despite the huge kitchen size, there was surprisingly little in it.
No dishes, no cups—nothing.
When I opened the fridge, there were only a few fancy-looking bottles of water.
Other than that, it was completely empty.
How is anyone supposed to live like this?
Isn’t this just a waste of electricity?
Annoyed, I shut the refrigerator door.
“Guess I’ll eat out and pick up some groceries while I’m at it.”
Didn’t seem like I needed to put on more clothes or anything.
I grabbed the wallet sitting on the dining table and headed out of the house.
“Anyway, I should check my skills too.”
The support skill possessed by Seo Inho had the effect of boosting the target’s critical hit chance by 100%.
To put it simply, if someone with the skill hit a monster, a critical hit would trigger every single time.
For a full hour, their hit rate would increase by 80%.
And since he’s S-rank, he basically never runs out of mana.
As long as you could handle a bit of backlash, you could use the skill almost indefinitely.
That’s why, no matter how trashy his personality was, Seo Inho was still in demand among hunters.
People didn’t offer him bribes for nothing, and the skill wasn’t called a cheat for no reason.
“Not that I’ll be needing it anytime soon.”
As I walked through a city that looked vaguely like Seoul but not quite, I made a fist.
I could feel some invisible force coursing through me.
I didn’t know the exact method, but I had this strange feeling I could activate the skill as easily as moving my fingers.
Like… this?
Swish—
My body moved in a blur, almost like I’d teleported.
The mana cost was so low I could use the skill repeatedly, and the scenery around me changed rapidly with each step.
It was supposed to be a dodging skill, but used like this, it was faster than most sports cars.
“This is way too convenient.”
Running a hand through my tousled hair, I smiled in satisfaction.
I could feel passersby sneaking glances at me.
In this world, fame came with higher hunter ranks.
Even a scumbag like him had a fan club, for crying out loud.
Thankfully, his reputation for having a terrible personality kept most people at a safe distance.
Clicking my tongue, I was mentally cursing a certain someone when I caught a whiff of something delicious that made my head turn.
There was a shabby little snack shop that screamed “hidden gem” just from the signboard alone.
Damn, that smells amazing…
“Maybe I’ll grab some tteokbokki.”
The place was already packed with students, but none of them would dare approach me anyway.
I’d just eat quickly and leave.
My stomach had been growling for a while now, so I eagerly stepped inside.
Ding~
“Welcome…!”
The moment our eyes met, the middle-aged man behind the counter started turning pale.
By the time his hands began trembling, I was seriously wondering if I should turn around and leave.
But then he spoke something I wasn’t expecting.
“In… Inho.”
Ah—no, it wasn’t that he recognized me. I had simply forgotten.
This gray-haired man in his 60s was none other than Seo Inho’s father.
In the movie, he only appeared briefly in a flashback to build the main character’s trash reputation, so I hadn’t realized it at first.
But here he was, shifting nervously on his feet, the same father who had raised his only late-born son all alone.
Unlike the mother who had abandoned them, this man had given everything he had—sacrificing meals, scraping by in a one-room flat—to raise his child with love and care.
And what did his son do the moment he awakened?
He dumped his father without a second thought.
Worse, he’d even show up from time to time just to cause trouble.
Even for a movie, it felt unfair.
How spoiled must this jerk have been to treat his father like that?
If it were me…
I quietly walked to an empty corner table and sat down without a word.
“One order of tteokbokki, please.”
“Tteokbokki…?”
“……”
“R-Right! Coming right up!”
Still in shock, the father hesitated before replying.
His face flushed red, beads of sweat dripping down his temple.
It was almost painful to watch.
Now that I noticed, the once-bustling shop had gone completely silent.
How was I supposed to enjoy a meal with everyone staring like this?
Doing my best to ignore the glances, I grabbed a fork from the utensil holder.
A moment later, a mountain of tteokbokki that looked like three servings landed on my table, followed by soondae and tempura I hadn’t even ordered.
The sight startled me, but maybe this was just how his father expressed his feelings—so I dug in.
Then I realized something.
Seo Inho had a surprisingly small appetite.
No wonder his fridge was always empty.
How does a guy with that build even maintain it?
I’d barely eaten a single portion when my pace slowed drastically.
But I couldn’t just leave food like this uneaten.
Might as well use this chance to stretch my stomach out a little. Bite by bite, I kept at it.
About 30 minutes later, I finally saw the bottom of the plate.
Not even a crumb of tempura was left.
Meanwhile, his father, who had been sneaking me glances and quietly bringing water the whole time, couldn’t hide his joy.
“That was great, thank you.”
I stood up, my stomach feeling uncomfortably full.
Reaching into my back pocket to pay, I pulled out the wallet—and his father flinched, waving his hands in alarm.
“No! What money? You don’t have to pay!”
From his perspective, it might’ve been a bit hurtful.
But I still wanted to pay him. It wasn’t about the money—it was about the gesture.
Of course, this wouldn’t erase Seo Inho’s sins, but you have to start somewhere.
Besides, it’s not even my money.
But when I looked inside the wallet, all I found were checks in various denominations.
Who the hell walks around with this kind of money?
Disgusted, I sifted through the contents and pulled out a check worth a million won.
Folding it in half so the amount wouldn’t show, I handed it over like it was nothing.
“Here. Please take it.”
Not waiting for him to refuse, I walked out of the shop, leaving him gaping behind me.
Maybe I’ll visit again sometime.
* * *
