“Hahaha!”

Ahn Hyunggi suddenly burst out laughing as if he were watching a comedy show.

“Our kids? I don’t think we’ve done nearly enough to deserve hearing that.”

He looked straight at Oh Seongcheon as he spoke.

“It’s understandable that you’d want to snatch up such remarkable children, given that they came out of a place that hardly has proper gear, facilities, or faculty—so poor it can barely be called a hunter academy. But come on, a man needs at least a shred of conscience, doesn’t he?”

Wow.

This was nothing like the polite way he spoke to Zeke earlier.

And mind you, the city mayor, Cheon Jiwon, was right here watching. Ahn Hyunggi’s words, meant to thoroughly humiliate him, froze the expression on Oh Seongcheon’s face.

“President Ahn, shouldn’t you worry less about our education and more about your own family and backyard? After all, your daughter—rumored to be the greatest talent ever, trained at the so-called best hunter academy in the world—took part in this event, and the result is… well, heartbreaking.”

Now it was Oh Seongcheon’s turn to strike back.

“No. Only a true loser would call this result heartbreaking.”

Yet Ahn Hyunggi spoke without the slightest crack in his smiling face.

“In fact, I’m delighted with this outcome. Defeat is a gift—it shows you your shortcomings and drives you toward perfection.”

“That’s nothing more than deluding yourself.”

“And that, right there, reveals your narrow, impoverished outlook. A person who cannot love himself has no confidence, no composure, no faith in his own resilience. He cannot believe he’ll rise again. So he views everything with anxiety and negativity, living like a hedgehog with its quills raised, always hunched over. With his head bowed like that, of course his vision is narrow.”

“I don’t recall asking you to lecture me on your garbage philosophy.”

“Oh, forgive me. I must have spoken without thinking. Watching someone tremble through life is just too pitiful.”

At this point, the only difference between them and a brawl was the absence of fists and foul words.

The press was ecstatic, capturing every moment of the clash between the two titans of Earth’s corporate world.

“Excuse me, gentlemen. I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re running short on time.”

It was then that Zeke stepped in.

“President Oh, earlier you said you would use your ticket to take the Gwangcheon team. But you do know the ticket applies to only one candidate, correct?”

Oh Seongcheon, still glaring, shifted his eyes toward the All-Around guild leader.

“If you’re thinking of using your ticket on Nam Yein as well, then I suppose I should join this discussion.”

“…No.”

Oh Seongcheon turned his back on Ahn Hyunggi and looked straight at us.

“You.”

He pointed at someone.

“…Huh? Y-you mean me??”

Lumina flinched and asked in shock.

“Yes. Follow me. We’ll draft the contract.”

Damn.

That was trouble.

In the game, side quests changed depending on who sponsored the protagonist. Who sponsored a companion, though, never mattered.

But here was reality. I couldn’t just cut away what was inconvenient like in a game.

The reason Oh Seongcheon wanted Lumina specifically was obvious.

Stealth.

An ability perfect for infiltration and assassination. He’d likely bind her by contract and call her up whenever he pleased.

If that happened, not only would it become difficult to stay together, but the things he’d make her do would hardly be legal. That would put us on the mayor’s bad side.

Most importantly, Lumina herself would suffer.

No choice then.

I decided to push back.

“Could you wait a moment?”

Zeke, Ahn Hyunggi, and Oh Seongcheon all turned their eyes on me.

“There’s something I’d like to confirm first.”

“What is it?”

Oh Seongcheon narrowed his eyes at me. The irritation at being interrupted was plain in his gaze.

“My understanding is that even if a ticket is used, the final decision rests with the candidate. Am I right?”

“That’s correct.”

The answer came not from the three men, but from behind.

When I turned, Riyu was standing there.

“Receiving a ticket only means you’re invited. Accepting or not is entirely the candidate’s choice.”

I nodded and met my teammates’ eyes. Then I spoke to the three holding tickets.

“We’re grateful for your offer. But we won’t be signing any contracts here today.”

Not only the three men, but the other corporate representatives, guild envoys, and even the press all wore astonished looks.

“Why not?”

Ahn Hyunggi asked, his expression one of genuine puzzlement.

“The first reason is that a ticket applies to only one person.”

I replied in a calm voice.

“We achieved this result because the entire team worked together. If there are rewards to be given, they should be given to all, not just one.”

“So, Yein, you mean you won’t accept a ticket unless it covers all four of your teammates?”

Ahn Hyunggi’s lips curved into a smile.

“In that case, you don’t need to worry.”

Zeke said with a grin.

“Nothing would please me more than signing contracts with all of you.”

Unlike the two smiling men, Oh Seongcheon’s face tensed as he glared at me before speaking.

“How arrogant. Did you think winning HAUT meant you could dictate terms?”

“If you do accept, that’d be a blessing. If not, well, there’s nothing we can do. We’re only HAUT winners—hardly people with real power.”

I smiled brightly.

“All we can do is toss aside this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

A vein twitched at Oh Seongcheon’s temple.

“Then what’s your second reason for refusing?”

Ahn Hyunggi asked.

“Simply that we need time. This choice could determine the course of our lives. It deserves careful thought. At least a day.”

“That’s not unreasonable.”

Zeke nodded, then turned to Ahn Hyunggi.

“President Ahn, how about this? We each take turns meeting with the Gwangcheon team today and tomorrow, and let them make their choice next Monday.”

“Fine. Let’s do it. And you?”

Ahn Hyunggi’s gaze shifted to Oh Seongcheon.

“…Fine.”

He answered with a sour expression.

“Would that arrangement be acceptable to you as well?”

Zeke asked me.

“Yes. Thank you for your consideration.”

I nodded.

“In that case, I’ll take my leave for now. I have guild business this afternoon.”

Zeke said.

“I’ll come meet you tomorrow at whatever time is convenient.”

He bowed politely to the mayor and to Riyu before leaving the banquet hall.

“Then I’ll let you go first. Twenty minutes should be enough, I’d say.”

Ahn Hyunggi turned to Oh Seongcheon, but without waiting for an answer, he looked at Mayor Cheon Jiwon.

“Mayor, would you be willing to spare me a moment to speak privately?”

“Of course. Shall we step outside?”

Cheon Jiwon and Ahn Hyunggi exited the hall together.

“President Oh, Gwangcheon Squad—you’ll come with me.”

Riyu tapped his staff lightly as he spoke.

“I’ll take you somewhere you can talk.”

He led us and Oh Seongcheon into a side room attached to the banquet hall.

The carpet, tables, and sofas gave the place a warm, refined atmosphere.

“This space was originally prepared so candidates with tickets could speak with their sponsors. But today, it looks like Gwangcheon will be the ones using it.”

Riyu grinned.

“To prevent any unfair contract terms, I’ll stay as well.”

He sat down in a single armchair and looked our way.

“Now then, go ahead.”

Oh Seongcheon glanced at Riyu, then flopped onto a sofa and crossed his legs.

“First, let’s clear something up.”

His sharp gaze fixed on us.

“What Nam Yein said earlier—do the rest of you actually agree with that?”

Hmm.

Clearly, Oh Seongcheon suspected that my earlier words hadn’t been agreed upon in advance. After all, I had looked at the others, signaling them for cues, so it wasn’t strange for him to doubt it.

“Of course we agree. We want to continue together. Isn’t that right?”

I looked at Seo Yui and asked.

“Yes. That was our conclusion.”

Her answer made me smile.

As expected. With Seo Yui, I knew she’d instantly catch on and play along.

“…Tsk.”

Oh Seongcheon clicked his tongue and sneered at me.

“Fine. I’ll humor your little tantrum once. You’re familiar with the Black Hounds, aren’t you?”

Meiling’s face twisted.

“Those are Forward’s dogs.”

Oh Seongcheon smirked.

“That’s right. Very expensive dogs. You’ll be joining them. Without ever risking your lives in dungeons, you could earn tens of billions a month.”

A small gasp slipped from Lumina beside me, and I nearly let out a bitter laugh.

“And your remaining academy life will become very comfortable. You won’t even need to attend classes. You’ll be free to do whatever you want.”

Fortunes without danger.

Freedom within the academy.

What he offered was exactly what any hunter candidate at Gwangcheon would dream of.

But honestly? Neither meant anything to me.

I already earned more than enough selling the items I crafted—so much that extra wealth was pointless.

Not like I could take it back to my original world anyway.

And freedom?

The moment you accept Forward’s sponsorship—especially through a ticket into the Black Hounds—freedom ceases to exist.

You’d be summoned at all hours, forced to carry out quests that trampled the line between legal and illegal, selling your conscience bit by bit.

Yes, the rewards at the end of that path were enormous.

But the moment you entered that route, Phase 2 and Phase 3 turned into hell difficulty.

Because all the karma from what you’d done would come crashing back down.

I’m already playing on a difficulty harder than hardcore. Tackling that scenario on top of it? Forget it.

Which meant my answer was simple.

“Return to the academy today and wait. I’ll have someone deliver the contract.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Oh Seongcheon looked straight at me.

“Because we have no intention of joining the Black Hounds.”

“…”

His lips clamped shut as his eyes drilled into me.

“I’ll give you exactly one chance to take that back. You struck me as clever, so you should know what answer you’re supposed to give here.”

“Yes. And my answer is that we will not be joining the Black Hounds.”

“…”

This time he didn’t just glare.

He clenched his fists, his shoulders trembling, his eyes blazing with naked rage and killing intent.

He looked like a child too furious to control himself.

But childish or not, this was still the heir apparent of Forward, one of the two titans that ruled the world.

Earning his anger brought nothing but trouble.

Still, I had two things on my side.

One was Cheon Jiwon.

The reason neither Crystal nor Forward could run wild in Seoul despite their massive capital and advanced technology was because of him.

After the Cosmos department store incident, where Lumina and I had distinguished ourselves, the mayor had taken a liking to us.

The other was Riyu, sitting right here.

If not for him, Oh Seongcheon would already have spat threats like, “I’ll expel you from Gwangcheon,” or, “I’ll make sure you can never pursue hunting again.”

But with Riyu present, he couldn’t say it.

Not that I’d have cared anyway.

Expel the team that won first place at HAUT? The media would eat that up.

The real problem was that Oh Seongcheon was the type who forgot favors like dust in the wind but never forgot grudges—and relished crushing those who opposed him.

He’d come after me through underhanded means sooner or later.

Which meant my scenario route was practically decided already.

“Chairman Riyu.”

“Hmm?”

Riyu blinked, as if surprised to be addressed.

“If I wait here, will I be able to meet with Crystal’s president as well?”

The moment I said that, a loud grinding sound came from Oh Seongcheon’s side.

(End of Chapter)