Chapter 21

The moment she realized her hypothesis had been wrong, it felt as if a hole had opened in her chest.

Pado’s words—Do you really believe something that convenient?—echoed in her ears.

Looking back on it calmly, he had been right.

She had rushed straight to that conclusion without even testing any other hypotheses. The more she thought about it, the more foolish and ridiculous it seemed.

The hollow feeling in her chest wasn’t simply because her theory had been wrong.

She couldn’t shake the disappointment that she hadn’t had any influence over Pado.

How reassuring it would have been if sleeping with her had truly made him stronger.

But now that she’d learned it wasn’t true, that hope collapsed, leaving an ache in her chest.

Maybe…

Just a little…

There had been some selfish feelings mixed in as well.

Morae admitted at least that much.

“Come on, it was an understandable mistake. Even the Commander suspected something when he suddenly broke through his limits. It was only natural to think there had been some kind of trigger.”

Mistaking Morae’s expression for simple disappointment, Yu Jimin pulled her into a hug.

Patting Morae’s back as though comforting a friend her own age, she smiled.

“You only guessed the wrong trigger. There had to be one. My bet is that he simply broke through after being pushed into a life-or-death situation.”

“A life-or-death situation? That’s such a cliché.”

“It is, but it’s the established theory. There are only about three real secrets to becoming stronger: natural talent, consistent effort, and life-threatening danger. People say that’s something out of a novel, but it’s actually the other way around. Novels and dramas copied reality.”

Jimin pulled up another screen and played footage of Pado.

A three-dimensional hologram rose from the desk.

The miniature Pado gathered water above his palm until it formed a massive sphere.

“Pado has always been like that—he’s pretty laid-back. It’s not that he doesn’t work hard… it’s more like he never really gives everything he’s got.”

“Exactly. He insists that’s his full strength, but when you actually watch him fight, it’s obvious it isn’t.”

Morae clapped her hands in agreement.

“It can’t really be helped. Pado grew up somewhere safe on the surface. He’s probably never been in a situation where his life was truly on the line.”

Behind the tiny hologram of Pado, dark-colored water rose into a towering pillar.

It was the same technique he’d shown Morae before.

His skill, honed since childhood, was already beyond what ordinary people could hope to match.

Even so, both of them had the feeling that it still wasn’t his true limit.

“I think he’s overly conservative when judging his own abilities. If he really pushed himself, I’m sure he could do more… but he’s never been forced into that kind of situation, so he doesn’t even know how.”

“Being strong can become a problem too, huh?”

Pado himself didn’t realize it, but veteran underground Hunters could tell.

Morae and Jimin had personally witnessed countless elite Hunters in action.

Some people screamed and struggled with everything they had, yet their limits were obvious.

Others insisted they were already giving their all, even though their potential still seemed limitless.

Pado clearly belonged to the latter.

It wasn’t because he was lazy or lacked confidence.

Most people naturally mistake a point far below their true limit as their actual limit.

That was only natural.

When people talked about their fastest 100-meter sprint, they didn’t imagine someone pointing a gun at their back, a collapsing building, or sprinting to save a family member in danger.

People judged themselves based on the greatest strength they could normally bring out.

Pado was doing the same thing without realizing it.

The difference was that, because he was already so powerful, the gap was enormous.

His true ceiling lay far beyond what ordinary people could ever reach.

As a result, the distance between what he believed was his full power and what he was actually capable of producing was unbelievably large.

Abilities, like muscles, only grew stronger by breaking past their limits.

It was obvious he’d become much stronger if he could simply break through that mental barrier.

The problem was that he’d never needed to draw out all of his strength.

Ironically, the very thing holding him back was that he was strong enough to stroll through contaminated zones (areas corrupted by Gates and monsters) while humming to himself—places where ordinary people would need every ounce of concentration, like facing the college entrance exam with their life on the line, just to survive.

“His overall skill has definitely improved, but I can’t say he’ll be able to produce this level of power every single time. Pado’s strength fluctuates a lot depending on his condition.”

“Hmm… that much?”

“Yeah. Madam said the same thing. When he spars with her, he only uses about half his strength. Even when she tells him to get serious… I guess because she’s neither an enemy nor a real threat, he just can’t bring himself to do it.”

Jimin opened another recording.

The lone hologram vanished, replaced by a battle between Han Nokyeong—Morae’s mother—and Pado.

The two holograms clashed fiercely in a mountainous region filled with rushing streams.

They traded punches, then kicks.

The instant one seemed to gain the upper hand, the momentum reversed.

One moment they were separated, the next they were right in each other’s faces.

After only four or five exchanges, the ground itself collapsed beneath them.

The duel between White City’s proud S-rank Hunter, Han Nokyeong, and the rising A-rank Hunter, Yu Pado, was so intense that a single mistake could easily have cost someone their life.

Their attacks were already too fast to follow.

Yet they had only been using half their strength.

Even though they were her family and comrade—perhaps even her subordinates—the thought was terrifying.

“Hunters officially raised by the Hunter Association since childhood all end up like that. They’re practically brainwashed into believing that harming civilians is absolutely unforgivable. It’s honestly tragic. We have to save Pado.”

Jimin slammed both fists against the desk repeatedly, her face full of sympathy.

After punching hard enough to make her hands hurt, she collapsed across the desk with tears welling in her eyes.

“Our poor Pado…”

“When did he become our Pado?”

Unable to just let it slide, Morae shot back sharply.

Jimin simply let the prickly words from the much younger girl roll off her like water.

“He’s still in the Legion, so he’s our Pado.”

“Auntie, you’re awfully nice to Pado. Do you like him or something?”

“You say ‘Pado, Pado’ more than anyone else, and you’re asking me? Don’t get jealous—I’m not trying to steal him.”

With an easy smile, Jimin effortlessly defused the jealousy hidden beneath Morae’s sharp words.

That harmless smile made Morae uncomfortable, yet strangely relieved at the same time.

It was unsettling how naturally Jimin always got straight to the heart of things, but comforting that she said it without any malice.

At least now it could be dismissed as nothing more than a child sulking because someone else was getting her aunt’s attention.

Still, the time for pretending not to notice had already passed.

Lately, just how many times had Jimin been spending time with Pado?

Taking the opportunity, Morae finally voiced the question that had been bothering her.

“I’m serious. Why are you so nice to Pado? You find everyone else my age annoying.”

Yu Jimin had been part of the West Sea Legion since before she was even twenty.

She was practically a veteran rogue within the organization—a researcher famous for her brilliant mind, but equally infamous for her terrible personality and nonexistent social skills.

She was the undisputed second-in-command of the Legion’s research division.

Eun Jisung’s assistant and closest aide.

Now in her forties, she’d never dated once in her life, a lifelong loner who had absolutely no interest in younger men.

In fact, it went beyond disinterest.

She hated dealing with younger people altogether.

They were troublesome, exhausting, immature, and never respected her.

Because she served as Eun Jisung’s personal assistant, she’d been forced into spending time with Morae over the years and gradually became close to her.

Otherwise, Jimin herself was childish enough that even Morae probably wouldn’t have liked her.

Yet, for some reason, Yu Jimin always treated Pado kindly.

She even tried to act like the mature adult around him.

It was impossible not to notice.

“I don’t actually think you’re interested in him or anything…”

“Absolutely not! Look how old I am! There’s only one person for me—Lord Sea God. Lord Sea God, please don’t be mad! You’re the only one for me! This isn’t cheating!”

Jimin practically jumped into the air, frantically looking around.

She bowed repeatedly toward empty space, as though Lord Sea God might somehow be listening from somewhere nearby.

Yu Jimin wasn’t the sort of cunning woman who would invoke the name of the person she’d worshipped for over twenty years just to tell a lie.

Morae’s half-lidded eyes gradually rounded again.

“Yeah… I know. You’re not interested in younger guys at all.”

“Exactly! But… I think getting older has made me like kids more. I’m not a young girl anymore. I’m past the age of feeling jealous of younger people.”

“Pado’s over twenty.”

Whether by appearance or actual age, he was far too old for someone to casually lump him into “kids.”

“True. But he’s young enough to be my son.”

Jimin smiled warmly, looking at Pado as though he really were her child.

Morae stared back at her the way one might look at a hopeless freeloader aunt.

Seeing Pado as her son somehow felt even worse than simply being interested in a handsome young man.

“No. Absolutely not. He’s not old enough to be your son. What is this, the Joseon Dynasty? Even back then people didn’t have kids that young.”

“‘If I’d married young, I’d have a kid your age’ would be pushing it. But saying, ‘If I’d married a divorced man, I could’ve had a stepchild your age’ fits perfectly.”

“Who even imagines something like that?”

Morae picked apart every word of Jimin’s logic.

Jimin clasped her hands together, tilted her head, and smiled dreamily.

“Lord Sea God was incredibly popular, so I always had to consider the possibility of marrying someone with children. I’ve been mentally prepared to accept fully grown sons and daughters as my own for years. That’s probably why Pado feels so familiar. He feels like the son Lord Sea God and I would’ve had.”

So that’s how your brain works…

Silently, Morae passed judgment on her aunt’s delusions.

“…Auntie. Cross the line and I’ll kill you.”

This wasn’t ordinary delusion anymore.

It was terminal.

Life imprisonment.

She clearly belonged locked inside the West Sea Legion forever.

Keeping a perfectly straight face, Morae drew her thumb across her throat.

If Jimin ever got carried away with those fantasies and started bothering Pado, that would be the end of it.

Even in a world filled with Gates and Hunters, most conflicts still came down to human relationships.

If it had been romantic interest, Morae could’ve somehow forced Jimin to face reality.

But he’s like my son?

There was no fixing that.

Jimin pouted at Morae’s deadly serious warning.

“Don’t worry. Pado’s nice to me too. We actually get along really well. Lately he’s even been coming to me for serious advice and asking me for favors.”

“Pado? Why would he ask you?”

“What do you mean, why? Because I’m dependable, obviously!”

If Pado genuinely believed that, Morae was ready to deduct several points from his intelligence score.

Thinking that rather coldly, she pressed Jimin for answers.

“What kind of favor? Tell me.”

“He asked me to go with him to meet some people from the Downtown Workshop. He said he’s not good at handling that sort of thing by himself.”

“What?! When?!”

“Right now. He said he couldn’t because he already had plans with you… Morae?”

Jimin casually glanced at the clock before looking up.

The moment she did, she froze.

Morae had her eyes squeezed shut and both fists clenched tight.

The murderous rage radiating from her was enough to make it look as though she was about to kill someone.