Liberation (2)

“Hyung, I think we’ve been too indifferent about Shin Kang-hoo.”

“I honestly didn’t expect anything from him, but who knew he’d stir up Cheongmyeong Detention Center like this on his own.”

Two men stood together.

On their shoulders were armbands with the slogan “We are the center of this world” clearly visible.

Beneath their jackets, their undershirts bore the unmistakable emblem of Heuksaja.

Their identities were none other than the leader and vice-leader of Heuksaja, a criminal organization based in Daejeon.

The leader’s name was Gwak Hyeong-su, and the vice-leader’s name was Gwak Hyeong-seok. They were brothers, with Hyeong-su being the elder.

At a glance, the two looked very similar, so they distinguished themselves with different hairstyles.

The older brother, Gwak Hyeong-su, always sported a slicked-back pomade perm.

The younger, Gwak Hyeong-seok, kept his hair long and styled it with soft waves.

Gwak Hyeong-su jokingly called his brother’s hairstyle “Jesus hair”—and he wasn’t exactly wrong.

Heuksaja, now allied with the Cheong-an Mercenary Corps and Jeon Se-hyuk’s faction, had formed a coalition.

Thanks to the successful surprise attack on Cheongmyeong Detention Center, the two were in high spirits.

Coincidentally, there had been pressure from Russia’s Kashimar Guild, which invested in and supported Heuksaja, to show some tangible results.

And now they had done just that. Heuksaja secured a promise of 33% of the net profits from the mana stone mine.

The group receiving the highest share was Lee Ye-rin’s Cheong-an Mercenary Corps, which had coordinated and prepared the entire operation from behind the scenes. They were promised 47%.

Jeon Se-hyuk’s faction received 16% in total, and the remaining 4% was entirely Kang-hoo’s share.

When they first heard, through Jeon Se-hyuk, that Kang-hoo planned to assassinate the warden Jo Hwan-seong alone, the Gwak brothers had scoffed.

Leaving aside the one-on-one combat, there seemed to be no feasible way to infiltrate the detention center without being detected.

So when they drew up a contract guaranteeing Kang-hoo 4% by shaving a little off everyone’s share—

Gwak Hyeong-seok thought it was a deal doomed to fall through. They only intended to use Kang-hoo as a bargaining chip.

But things went completely against expectations.

Kang-hoo infiltrated the Cheongmyeong Detention Center without anyone noticing and went so far as to kill Warden Jo Hwan-seong.

As if that weren’t enough, he even blocked the reinforcements and ended up hogging all the spotlight by himself.

“This is a real blow to the prestige of the Black Lion King.”

“Seriously. Same for the Lion King.”

“Keuk keuk.”

“Damn it. How the hell did that Shin Kang-hoo guy pull this off? We combed over it thoroughly and found no hidden infiltration routes.”

The Black Lion King and the Lion King.

These were the nicknames for Gwak Hyeong-seok and Gwak Hyeong-su, respectively.

Embarrassing to hear if said by a third party, but the two men adored those nicknames.

That’s why all members of Heuksaja were required to call them strictly by those aliases.

Gwak Hyeong-seok spoke.

“Shin Kang-hoo used to be an inmate, right? Maybe he already knew some internal routes?”

“That makes no sense. If a regular inmate knew a secret escape route, wouldn’t he have used it to flee already?”

“True… you’re right.”

“The fact that he knew something even we struggled to obtain shows he’s no ordinary guy.”

Gwak Hyeong-su narrowed his eyes.

In truth, he had already heard quite a bit about Kang-hoo through the Kashimar Guild.

According to what he’d heard—

Kang-hoo had refused their offer to build influence in Gangwon Province with Kashimar’s backing.

Not just refused it—he outright humiliated Nikita Boronin, the manager sent to negotiate, to his face.

Kang-hoo was one of the very few people who had disgraced Nikita Boronin and still lived to tell the tale.

“There’s no denying that Shin Kang-hoo’s actions led to the success of the Cheongmyeong Detention Center assault… don’t you think he’s worth trying to bring over to our side?”

Gwak Hyeong-seok cautiously brought it up.

There was no need to even analyze how he fought on-site. The result said it all.

“Anyone can see he’s close to Lee Ye-rin and Jeon Se-hyuk. It won’t be easy to recruit him.”

“Hm…”

“First, we need to deal with Eclipse. We have to take full control of Daejeon before we can make a proper move on someone like him.”

“True.”

“In any case, keep a close watch on Shin Kang-hoo for now. Having someone like that as an enemy would be a massive headache. Just look at what Eclipse is going through.”

Gwak Hyeong-su nodded.

As his brother said, even if they couldn’t ally with Kang-hoo, they absolutely had to avoid making him an enemy.

They’d seen many skilled hunters over the years and witnessed their growth and outcomes.

And both their experience and instincts told them the same thing—Kang-hoo was only going to become more influential.

In that case, it was better to stay on his good side. As long as they had some kind of connection, they could always reel him in later.

“Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!”

“Thank you so much! You’ve saved our lives!”

“We’re finally free! This is freedom!”

As Kang-hoo unlocked the several iron doors that had confined the inmates of Wing 18, the escape finally began.

The inmates expressed their gratitude repeatedly to Kang-hoo, with some even cheering “Hurrah” three times in a row.

Thankfully, none of them were thoughtless enough to ask Kang-hoo to guarantee their escape and safety.

The inmates instinctively ran toward the factions visible beyond the main gate—those who had driven out Eclipse.

They were certain that anyone who had ousted Eclipse would surely help them.

That belief turned out to be correct.

In particular, Lee Ye-rin and Jeon Se-hyuk personally saw to the inmates’ well-being and congratulated them on their safe escape.

Meanwhile—

Kang-hoo stood silently, deep in thought, as he looked over the now-empty detention wing.

—Can you hold out?

—Worrying won’t change anything.

—If it gets too hard, at least say that it’s hard.

—……

The dawn of the day he decided to escape.

As he looked into the mirror and saw his pale reflection, the memory of the conversation he had with a comrade remained vivid.

That same mirror still stood before his eyes.

The only difference now was that it had more rust and more bloodstains smeared across it.

Judging by the lack of cracks on the mirror, the blood was likely from a prisoner who died near it.

It was probably the tragic end of a powerless man, slashed without mercy by a guard’s ruthless blade.

Step. Step.

Kang-hoo’s footsteps slowly moved toward the makeshift restroom just beside the detention wing.

Though the entire detention center was now in chaos with fleeing inmates, intruding hunters, and the aftermath of battle…

To Kang-hoo, quietly walking in this moment, it all felt like distant noise. He paid no attention to it.

—One minute. If you take longer, even if your crap isn’t done, your life will be.

—Yes, sir.

He vividly recalled that brief exchange with a guard in front of the restroom.

That one minute the guard granted without much thought became a crucial window for Kang-hoo’s escape.

As a result, he was able to make a contract with the Dimension Plunderer, kill the guards, and escape.

And now, time had passed, and here he was again—Kang-hoo, changed, standing once more in that spot.

“It’s over now… The past me is no longer imprisoned in Cheongmyeong Detention Center.”

Kang-hoo clenched his fist tightly.

Perhaps too tightly.

Blood trickled from where his nails pierced the skin, but he paid it no mind.

This kind of blood was trivial and meaningless compared to the heavy emotions weighing on him.

“Act Two.”

Kang-hoo spoke as if reciting a line.

It truly felt like the second act of his life as Shin Kang-hoo had begun.

The first act could now be summarized—from his escape from Cheongmyeong Detention Center to today’s assault. One chapter closed.

As someone who had once been a novelist, if he were to encapsulate the future of Act Two in a single word—

“Strategy.”

That seemed to be the answer.

From now on, every move needed to be strategic.

Acting on emotion would ruin everything. The caliber of enemies was rising.

The Thirteen Stars still stood strong, and making them all enemies now would be pure foolishness.

The surefire way not to be foolish was to constantly think, assess, and strategize.

Unless someone was a perfect ally, he had to always assume they could become an enemy.

And then—

Pop!

Fwoosh…

Kang-hoo tossed the oil lighter he had taken from a dead guard into the oil he had spread between Wing 18 and the restroom.

In an instant, flames roared up and began devouring the flammable structure in a blazing inferno.

Though the building had withstood years of use, it fell apart in seconds to a single spark.

“Act One… Complete.”

And with that, Kang-hoo muttered something only he could understand and turned away.

There was nothing left for him to do here.

It was time to return to Warden Jo Hwan-seong’s office, retrieve the man’s belongings, and enjoy the victory.

He also needed to review the constellation information he had stolen from the fallen officer earlier.

There was a lot to do.

Crackle! Roar!

Behind Kang-hoo, who walked away without a second glance, the crimson blaze consumed the building with terrifying speed.

One day, in the distant future, when this moment could be reflected upon—what would his future self think of it?

Would he even still be alive by then?

And if so, what kind of story would the second act he created be telling?

He was dying to know.

But that future was out of reach.

It was a result only his present self could earn—by walking forward, step by step.

The cleanup didn’t take long.

It was decided that Jo Hwan-seong’s corpse would be handled by Jeon Se-hyuk.

There was no better way to shake Eclipse to its core than with the death of one of its key officers.

Words like “disrespecting the dead” only applied when the deceased had earned respect.

For a piece of human garbage like Jo Hwan-seong, those words were a luxury. This was merely karma.

Since none of Jo Hwan-seong’s gear was useful to Kang-hoo, it was all put up for sale.

Lee Ye-rin volunteered to take care of that and collected all the items.

Her pre-sale appraisal came to a total of 73 billion won.

Kang-hoo had expected about that much, knowing Jo Hwan-seong had equipped himself mostly with cost-efficient gear.

Lee Ye-rin said she’d take care of the calculations herself, so Kang-hoo waited without worry.

How Jo Hwan-seong’s twin-bladed axe and other belongings would be used from here on was for Lee Ye-rin to decide.

Kang-hoo didn’t care what happened next. She would handle it. It wasn’t his concern.

‘Now that the settlement’s done… Is it time I cashed in that one-time dungeon raid I was promised?’

Kang-hoo’s interest naturally turned to his 4% share of the profits and the one-time dungeon raid rights.

There were seven dungeons within Cheongmyeong Detention Center owned by Eclipse.

He had been promised access to each one—once. And now, he was eager to enjoy the reward.

Every dungeon had at least a mid-boss and a main boss.

Which meant every dungeon raid guaranteed two additional skills.

And there were seven dungeons total! Fourteen new skills awaited him—a treasure trove waiting to be claimed.