Chapter 10

A few days later.

That morning, the place I headed to early was the Counterintelligence Unit.

Special Unit Division 2—where Park Mu-cheol and Ha Yeri belonged.

The guest room was built in the style of a traditional hanok.¹

When I slid the door open, Ha Yeri was preparing a tea set.

Kneeling and facing me, she listened to my story, then spoke in a drained voice as if she’d reached enlightenment.

“So you’re saying you rejected the Oath after all?”

“Yes. I didn’t realize it didn’t mean they’d wipe out my repair debt.”

“And what would you have done if they really demanded repayment?”

“Pay it back, of course. I figured about forty-three years of work would do it.”

The starting salary of a Lower Level Awakened was around a hundred million won, excluding incentives.

The Special Unit, being government-run, naturally paid less than guilds at first, but the pay scale rose steadily each year. On top of that, if you ended up in Division 3—the Frontline Breakthrough Unit—you got hazard pay, life insurance bonuses, and various allowances.

Besides, who knew what tomorrow held in times like these? An Archduke could pop out tomorrow and flatten Seoul, or the Red Tower could just snap like a brittle twig.

If that happened, I’d be free of everything anyway. So overall, refusing the Oath on the spot had been the smart choice.

For some reason, though, Ha Yeri’s expression turned cold, like cooled tea.

“Then why didn’t you retract your words and accept it once you realized? Commander Cheon So-baek is far pickier than she looks. Division 4 is always short on recruits.”

“Ahem… honestly, it didn’t feel like the right place for me. Especially the atmosphere. The color.”

“‘Not the right place,’ you say… Do you mean Division 4 isn’t enough to satisfy you?”

“No, I absolutely didn’t mean it like that.”

I’d only been trying to politely say I didn’t want to be stuck among the Red Tower mages crawling all over the place.

After a stretch of awkward silence, Ha Yeri seemed to come to a decision. She lifted her teacup, drained it, then slid an envelope across the table to me.

“Open it.”

“What’s this?”

“Your official certification. Proof that your Awakened registration is complete.”

“Oh, that was fast. Thank you.”

That was exactly why I’d come.

But when I reached to tuck the papers away, her voice cut in—low and sharp, like a hidden blade.

“I said open it.”

“Eh?”

“I meant check it here, right now.”

You could’ve just said that. Why the scary glare?

Even without her using any ability, the pressure was suffocating. Slowly, I opened the envelope.

Inside were papers with my name and basic info, just as she said. Nothing unusual. I couldn’t figure out why she insisted I check it on the spot.

Then, as I went to put them back, I noticed another slip of paper inside.

[Wish Ticket — Holder: Hayan / Ha Yeri (signatory)]

“What’s this?”

“It’s a parchment that allows me to grant one request, as long as it’s within my power to accept. In other words, an Oath.”

“…Why are you giving this to me?”

“If you ended up failing the aptitude tests completely, I planned to bring you into Division 2. From your results so far, it looked like you’ve had it rough.”

“…”

What was this, pity points?

But she wasn’t wrong.

I had tried Division 4 and a couple of others, and none had gone well.

In Division 5, Recon and Disruption, the evaluation was about tactical maneuvers inside the Gate. I was supposed to sneak in and stall enemies as long as possible. Instead, I buried all the monsters underground—then got disqualified because I’d done the main force’s job.

In Division 6, Supply Support, the task was delivering supplies to the front lines. I saw food with almost-expired dates and replaced them with far fresher, tastier, nutrient-rich tentacle meals—like pulling off the miracle of feeding five thousand. Then I got disqualified for not using the official supplies.

For reference, I even tried Division 1. Fitting its name, Archduke Extermination Unit, their exam was an oral interview about past Archduke appearances and countermeasures.

The result? Judging by the sigh Ha Yeri let out now, rubbing her forehead, you can guess.

“The Incarnation of Flauros, Archduke of Flames. You wrote it was subdued after feeding it a dose of diluted stimulant and then… flicking its forehead. Does that sound even remotely believable to you?”

“…It actually worked, though.”

“And this—about the manifestation and appearance time of Archduke Jagan—you got this one more or less right. That incident in the western U.S. killed fifty thousand people and made the headlines. But the exact time of its first appearance—how did you know? That’s still under investigation.”

“Uh… intuition.”

Of course, I couldn’t say the truth—that it was around the time the ones I beat half to death stopped showing up in the Demon Realm.

Because most of my answers skipped over half the process—or the whole thing—and just listed results, they seemed to assume I’d either copied someone else’s notes or guessed lucky.

“How many divisions are left for you to test in?”

“Just Division 3. But their exam site’s been shut down…”

“It’ll open soon enough. Deputy Commander Yoo Se-byeol can’t stay absent forever. In any case, keep that paper.”

Ha Yeri added that if I passed in another division, she’d allow it to serve as nothing more than a wish coupon instead of a binding Oath. She downed the rest of her tea.

“Ahem. But only within my power to grant. You must not use it for selfish whims or to trample the weak. And if you dare treat it as a tool for petty grievances or indulgence, I’ll tear it in hal—”

“Then can you change the cafeteria menu? Stop serving octopus soup.”

“…Do you have a death wish, Sae Hayan? You’d waste it on that? Are you mocking me?”

What? That wasn’t personal dissatisfaction—it was a matter of the majority’s happiness. Why couldn’t she understand?

Mulling over other possible uses, I slipped the paper back into the envelope and left.

And as I focused on the presence trailing after me, I whispered softly to my Outer God.

“Looks like Commander Ha Yeri still suspects me. Otherwise, why would she have someone shadow me from the very first day?”

『Fear not.』

“She only gave me this paper for the same reason. To lull me into complacency with reassurance, then later probe if I have some ability outside magic. I should’ve been wary of unexplained goodwill… Guess I really did soften after leaving the Demon Realm.”

『Fear not.』

Mala-nim’s casual tone made it obvious—they still hadn’t grasped the danger of the situation.

Tentacles were, after all, vile creatures native to the Demon Realm.

They violated both men and women indiscriminately, making them the most viscerally repulsive monsters since the Gates first opened.

If anyone discovered that my ability was tentacles, public scorn alone would be the least of it. Isolation from society would be inevitable.

Unlike my Outer God, who lazily wiggled tentacles in carefree detachment, I had no intention of letting my guard down.

A single mistake could topple everything I’d built like a tower of sand.

“The exam for Division 3 is supposed to be a one-on-one duel. I’ll have to be careful not to lose control again and cause trouble like last time.”

Firming my resolve once more, I headed for the training grounds.

Seoul Central Hospital.

In the ward where Awakened injured in the Gate were treated, Yoo Se-byeol arrived carrying reports of the damages.

Most of Division 3 was hospitalized after their battle with the Elder Lich, but she was perfectly fine, able to walk on her own.

No one knew why, but she’d healed quickly from wounds ever since childhood.

After greeting the awakened patients and exchanging a few words, she stepped into the elevator.

The top floor was labeled 150—a scale far too massive for an ordinary hospital.

And even that wasn’t the end. Above it was a sealed button, blocked off from use.

Keeping her nerves steady, Yoo Se-byeol pressed the sealed button with slender fingers. A symbol appeared on the panel—one she knew very well, the emblem of her guild.

The elevator ignored all other floors and ascended straight to the top of the ward.

When the doors opened, the interior looked more like a luxury hotel than a hospital.

At the end of the straight hallway stood a single room, guarded by men at the door.

As she approached, the guild members of The Old Gods’ Wound bowed deeply to her.

“I’m here to see the Commander of Division 3.”

“Apologies, but weapons aren’t allo—”

“You idiot! My apologies, miss. This one’s on his first shift today.”

“It’s fine.”

“Please, go in, young lady.”

Yoo Se-byeol stepped inside with her sword still at her waist and pulled back the curtains around the bed.

Silver moonlight poured through the window. There were no clouds tonight, and Seoul’s southern skyline spread out before her like a painted canvas.

With her Awakened eyes, every light of the city gleamed as clearly as stars in the night sky.

She could see the Bureau headquarters and the five Magic Towers piercing into the heavens.

One of them was broken in half, still belching black smoke without pause.

The region around Chungcheong, where the Black Tower once stood, had essentially been erased. Reports said even Busan was losing its ability to keep the Gates under control.

Covering the sight of disaster once more with the curtain, she walked to the bed by the window.

The figure lying there, turned away from her, was the one she addressed in a bright tone.

“Hey, Dad. None of our division died in this incident. Isn’t that a relief?”

“……”

“I’ll admit, I was completely thrown off. I never learned about Gate corruption even back when I was with The Old Gods’ Wound.”

She smiled as if nothing was wrong, but Yoo Cheol-jin—the Sword Immortal, her father—said nothing.

He kept his eyes fixed only on the darkened land outside, never once meeting hers.

“For now, Division 3 will probably just be supporting the other units. But that’s still better than being disbanded, so we’ll have to train up the rookies properly.”

“……”

“There’s one Awakened in particular I really want to recruit this time. I met him in a Gate… I think he might even reach Middle Level. Hard to say for sure yet, but more than anything, he’s just fascinating as a person.”

“……”

“I’ll even use my Oath if I have to, to persuade him. That way, when you come back, the division will still be strong.”

She circled the bed, chattering away. The moonlight slipped through the curtains, glinting off her sword’s scabbard.

Only then did Yoo Cheol-jin’s eyes meet hers, and his lips finally moved.

“You monster of a daughter—”

Words too venomous to ever be spoken to one’s own blood.

The smile she forced froze in place.

But swallowing down the surge of emotion, she steadied her voice and finished what she meant to say.

“…I’ll hang in there. So please, come back healthy. I’ll visit again soon.”

Moments later.

When she stepped out, a guild member asked cautiously.

“Everything okay, miss?”

“Mm, I think he’s not feeling well again today.”

“No, I meant you, young lady…”

“Me? Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Since losing his wife in the Tragedy of the Eighth Night, Yoo Cheol-jin had never once picked up his sword again.

Se-byeol, who had been caught up in that disaster alongside him, still had no idea what exactly her father had witnessed back then.

“I’ll head back. There’s too much to do—refitting the unit, recruiting new members…”

“Understood. Please take care, young lady.”

Each time guilt surged over his failure to protect his family, she only hardened her resolve all the more.