295 — Infiltration (1)

A meal together with Jung Yuri after quite a long wait.

Though the Haeyeong Guild was embroiled in various scandals, public safety in Busan was well maintained.

Thus, downtown Busan was just as stable as Seoul, bustling with crowds wherever you went.

It was said that many ordinary people who were overwhelmed by Seoul’s murderous cost of living had moved down to Busan.

Prices were still high here, but better than in Seoul, where a single bowl of galbitang cost 150,000 won.

Kang-hoo was no exception to that impression—he, too, felt Busan was “relatively” cheaper.

They each ordered pasta and risotto to suit their tastes, and as they waited for the food to arrive—

Jung Yuri asked casually.

“Oppa, are you still really busy these days?”

“Feels like I’m less busy than you, at least.”

“Aww, I’m just holed up in dungeons, that’s why I’m hard to reach. You’re the one everyone’s looking for, aren’t you?”

From the change in Kang-hoo’s gaze, Jung Yuri instinctively knew something new had come up for him.

How should she put it? Whenever something important was approaching, Kang-hoo had this particular aura of bloodlust about him.

It was too hard to explain in words—it was a special kind of energy that only she could feel.

“How have you been?”

Kang-hoo subtly changed the topic.

Not that he’d ever slip up, but he didn’t want to bring up the Cheongmyeong Detention Center to her for no reason.

His thoughts were quite focused on it, yes—but this moment with her mattered just as much.

So he wanted to clearly separate the two. Now was the time to ask how she was doing, and to share a bit of himself too.

“Like I said, I’ve been running dungeons like crazy. Recently, I also built connections with the Myeongga Guild and the Groo Guild.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Just happened to get the opportunity. They seemed to think quite highly of me too.”

“That’s good news.”

Kang-hoo nodded.

Both guilds were very selective about their affiliations. They didn’t form connections merely for social reasons.

Typically, hunters who joined them had demonstrated their abilities in some way.

Kang-hoo, who could personally attest to Jung Yuri’s strength—as could her growth and track record in the original storyline—felt his lingering concerns about her dissipate. She would do well.

“On the side, I’ve been gathering intel. I’m planning to formally expose the atrocities of the Jeonghwa Guild soon.”

“Atrocities.”

“Yeah, atrocities. There’s been a rise in influencers siding with The Abyss lately, right? Thanks to that, more and more reporting channels have opened up. I think the time is right.”

“There has been quite a rise.”

“Yup! A lot of actual footage is being uploaded too. That hunter trafficking case? Turned out it wasn’t just a rumor—it was true. Of course, the Jeonghwa Guild is doing everything they can to bury it and muddy the waters.”

“I imagine even more fake news will be manufactured. I’ve already seen quite a few manipulated videos about The Abyss’s crimes.”

“Yeah. I’m thinking of gathering more info that can fact-check those fake news pieces. Turns out I’ve got a decent network in that area too.”

“Of course. Not everyone out there supports the Jeonghwa Guild.”

“You know, right? How much I despise that guild.”

“Of course.”

“That’s why I want to grab them by the ankle. And I think the right moment has finally arrived.”

The murderous aura from Jung Yuri was intense as she spoke with conviction.

It was so powerful that even Kang-hoo flinched—an aura that surged from deep within her.

Her hatred and fury, especially toward Chae Gwanhyeong, were beyond imagination.

To Kang-hoo, her feelings were completely justified.

A woman’s life and her pure emotions had been twisted, defiled, and nearly buried forever.

Jung Yuri had been so shaken by it that she had to hide away from the world.

Her desire for revenge wasn’t something to be suppressed—it was something that deserved to be nurtured, right at her side.

There was only one thing Kang-hoo pointed out with concern.

“Everything sounds good, but just don’t overdo it. Wait for the right moment with the heart of a predator. Don’t just rush in blindly.”

“Okay, Oppa. Thanks for the advice.”

“Yuri, remember—the more you approach, the more likely they’ll recognize you too.”

“Right. By the way… it’s really hard to find a good hemorrhage assassin these days. It’s not even a drought—it’s like extinction.”

“I heard all the good assassins are already affiliated somewhere.”

“Exactly!”

“Call me next time. I owe Master K quite a bit too… I’ll roll up my sleeves and help at least once.”

“I didn’t bring it up to ask for help, but… I won’t say no! Hehe.”

“Feel free. Let’s just call it a one-time pass. I’ll definitely help.”

“Thanks! Oppa, make sure you stay healthy! Especially watch out for those who are after you, okay?”

“You too, Yuri. I hope you keep growing steadily, just like now, inside your safe boundaries.”

They exchanged warm wishes.

Whenever Kang-hoo saw Jung Yuri, he felt as though—if he had a close little sister, she would be just like her.

The kind of little sister who worried about her older brother more than anyone and always looked after him.

In reality, his sibling was more like a nemesis, but in his imagined world, this was what a sister would be like.

After that—

Kang-hoo spent time chatting with her about everyday things, taking a brief break from the harshness of life.

He had felt it before, but meeting Jung Yuri always brought a sense of “purification” to Kang-hoo.

It was like—just being near her seemed to wash away some of the blood and darkness from his life.

If his life was a pitch-black cloth, then she was the white ink that gently neutralized its color.

Eventually, the cloth would turn gray, and the change would stop somewhere around that tone.

But it was still far brighter than the original black—and that alone was worth something.

She was someone who brought a pause to his brutal day-to-day life, someone who made him laugh, even briefly.

Kang-hoo sincerely wished for Jung Yuri’s happiness. And above all, he hoped she could always keep smiling like this.

---

That Night.

Kang-hoo had moved to a place where Cheongmyeong Mountain was visible.

He had set up a teleportation point near Busan Station before leaving, just in case.

Though he had no intention of letting it come to that, if by any chance he failed in assassinating Warden Jo Hwan-seong…

He would deploy teleportation without hesitation and return to Busan Station.

Regardless of the reason, it was a surefire way to secure his safety! It was Kang-hoo’s solid insurance.

Rumble—

“Hmm.”

Though there was no rain, the sky was already filled with dark clouds.

That distinct watery smell just before the rain, and the rumble among the clouds, came together.

A full night.

With even the moonlight gone, tonight was the perfect time for a covert infiltration.

“……”

Though he was still some distance from Cheongmyeong Detention Center, the place’s distinctive stench was already in the air.

A smell difficult to describe in words.

Certainly not a pleasant one.

It smelled musty, rotten, even bloody. An indescribable stench that couldn’t be captured by a single word.

‘Someone must have died again today, as always.’

Within that stench, Kang-hoo detected a particular smell that only came from the cremation chamber.

The smell of burning corpses. More specifically, the smell when bones are burned at the end of the cremation process.

Just catching a whiff of it brought back a flood of memories from Cheongmyeong Detention Center, like a flashing montage.

A fellow inmate who had been mining mana stones next to him yesterday would be reduced to a handful of ash by tomorrow.

The bone dust wasn’t stored in any kind of urn, nor was it disposed of in a respectful way for mourning.

Sometimes it would be scattered around like air freshener to mask the stench of the toilets.

Sometimes the guards would force the inmates to eat or chew the bone dust…

It was used in truly horrifying ways. Even in death, inmates were thoroughly violated.

Clack.

An uncontrollable rage surged up, transferring straight into his clenched jaw, producing a grinding sound.

Yet paradoxically, that very rage cooled his head. The turbulence within him quickly settled, and the essence became clear.

‘Whatever path I choose to approach via the main route, none are safe—so that plan is dismissed.’

The road leading to Cheongmyeong Detention Center was lined with numerous detection and alarm systems.

Only pre-approved vehicles could enter, and any detection signal outside the scheduled time was treated as an intrusion.

In other words, if Kang-hoo stepped onto that road right now, the alarm would be triggered immediately.

First, a primary alarm would go off. Sometimes wild animals crossed the road, hence the initial buffer.

Once the first alarm triggered, a mana-detection system would activate.

If it were a wild animal, no mana would be detected, so no additional alarms would follow after the first.

But if mana was detected?

Then a second alarm would be triggered, and the entire detention center would be alerted.

Especially the “Mobile Unit,” organized to respond to riots or emergencies, would be mobilized.

In such a scenario, the entire facility would enter emergency standby, and infiltration would become impossible.

Even if infiltration succeeded, targeting the warden would be out of the question. The facility would already be on full alert.

Fssh—

Kang-hoo began to move.

Naturally, he avoided the main road ahead and instead moved in the direction away from Cheongmyeong Detention Center.

Thanks to his night vision abilities, navigating the terrain in total darkness wasn’t a problem.

With his stealth and Shadow Step skills active as a baseline, Kang-hoo moved swiftly and continuously.

Just in case, he had already dispatched a corrupted beast ahead.

It was quietly patrolling, and if it spotted another hunter, it would immediately return and report.

‘The 18th shaft is the fastest and least troublesome entry.’

The route Kang-hoo had in mind was through a mine shaft connected to a cave in Cheongmyeong Mountain that led inside the detention center.

Shaft 18.

It had been closed off two years ago. Almost no mana stones remained to be mined, and what little was left was of such low quality it had been discarded.

After its closure, it was used to dump inmates’ corpses or bury hunters who died upon arrival at the facility.

Kang-hoo remembered Shaft 18 so precisely for a simple reason.

In the original story, it was the escape route he had devised for Shin Kang-hoo.

However, considering Shin Kang-hoo’s background at the time, a successful escape would have broken the power balance.

In other words, Shin Kang-hoo’s growth would have accelerated to a point that protagonist Jang Si-hwan couldn’t keep up—so the escape plan was scrapped.

Though it didn’t make it into the original work, the memory remained vivid in Kang-hoo’s mind.

‘To think I’d end up using the route I planned for escape as an infiltration path instead. Life really is…’

Unpredictable.

Kang-hoo steadied his breath, then melted once more into the darkness.

Just like any other day, today’s daily life at Cheongmyeong Detention Center had likely passed peacefully on the surface.

But—

A dark shadow, one that should never have entered this place, was quickly drawing near.