Chapter 1: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝔸 𝕄𝕒𝕟

The apartment was plain, almost too plain for a guy like Jae-woo. There weren’t any decorations, no photos, no nothing that said anything about who he once was, how eminent he once used to be. Just the bare essentials: a couch, a small table, a makeshift kitchen, and a bed pushed into the corner. The cleanliness of the space felt more like an obligation than a preference. It wasn’t lived-in; it was maintained. 

For someone with Jae-woo’s background—an elite hunter with a reputation for being proud, maybe even a little arrogant—it felt off, like this was a space stripped of anything unnecessary, anything that used to matter. It was as if Jae-woo had erased himself from his own life. 

Minhoo noticed all of this as he walked in, letting his blue eyes wander around the room. The air wasn’t heavy, just unusually still, like the place was holding its breath as the owner tried to appear as ordinary as possible. 

Meanwhile, Jae-woo was leaning against the kitchen counter, his long red hair tied back, but in a way that looked like he barely put any effort into it. A few loose strands hung around his face, and there was this one streak of white in his hair that really stood out, almost like a scar running through the red. 

He was wearing simple clothes—a plain shirt and some loose trousers—that made him look like just another guy you’d pass on the street, nothing special, except for his handsome (and maybe gorgeous) features and his muscular form. At first glance, there was nothing intimidating about him. Most people would’ve walked right by without a second thought.

But Minhoo knew better. He could feel the strength Jae-woo was holding back, hidden under that too-normal appearance. Then man was covered in scars—some barely noticeable, others more prominent, like the one that slashed across his left eye—proving that Jae-woo was nothing but ordinary. This wasn’t a man who had lost his edge—he’d just gotten better at hiding it, he just didn’t care to show it anymore.

Jae-woo had a chipped mug in his hand, and his eyes were fixed on something outside the cracking window.

Minhoo paused his steps, taking in the scene before quietly closing the door behind him. The click of the door sliced through the silence, but Jae-woo didn’t even flinch. He just stood there, as if Minhoo was nothing more than a bystander walking past his day. But Minhoo knew that Jae-woo was very much aware of everything going on around, watching him through the reflection of the window.

“You’re a hard man to find,” Minhoo finally said, his voice cutting through the stillness. His tone was calm, almost like he was just talking about the weather, not the months he’d spent trying to find Jae-woo. 

After the retirement five years ago, Jae-woo had disappeared, as if vanishing into the thin air, leaving no trace to be found. No one could have known the man was still here, inside a humble complex building, in the middle of the buzzing city.

Jae-woo’s amber eyes flickered toward him, narrowing slightly. “Maybe you should’ve taken the hint,” he replied, sounding more tired than anything else. It was the voice of someone who’d stopped caring whether or not they were found a long time ago.

“I don’t take hints,” Minhoo said, stepping further into the room, his movements controlled, deliberate. He wasn’t trying to come off as a threat, but he wasn’t backing down either. “Not when it impacts the efficiency and the skates are this high.”

Jae-woo’s lip curled into something that might’ve been a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Stakes, huh?”

The man paused, taking a lazy sip of his mug. “You’ve been keeping tabs on me, haven’t you?” he said again, but there was an invisible pressure coming from his tone. 

“I know about you. Enough,” Minhoo replied with the very same demeanor. Calm. Composed. Almost emotionless. His gaze steady as he focused on Jae-woo only, sparing no time to dart around. “All I want is to get the job done, and I know enough to make it happen.”

Jae-woo set the mug down on the counter, the clacking sound sharp in the quiet. “Just get to the point, Minhoo. Let’s not waste each other’s time.”

That was one thing Minhoo liked about Jae-woo—he was straightforward, no beating around the bush. It made things simpler. “There’s a dungeon. S-rank. They called it The Banshee.”

Silence fell over the room, thick with the weight of what they both understood. S-rank dungeon was disastrous—everyone knew their appearance meant trouble. It wasn't just a theory; it had actually happened once before—The Great Breach.

Back in 2002, twenty eight years ago, a strange phenomenon occurred. It started as a tiny black dot in the sky—so small that most people didn’t even notice it until someone pointed it out. People gathered, curious, snapping photos and debating what it could be. Some thought it was just a plane, but planes didn’t hover in one spot. Others came up with wild theories about climate change and the end of the world. Ironically, they weren’t too far off.

The dot grew, splintering into jagged lines that cracked across the sky, like glass shattering. These lines turned into large crevasses with eerie, glowing colors. Inside was nothing but endless darkness that gave you the chills if you stared too long.

For a few weeks, nothing happened, and people lost interest, except for the government and some experts. Then—on August 18th—the largest crevasse, glowing a dark red, exploded, triggering the other crevasses to burst open one after another, like falling dominoes.

From the crimson-glowing crevasse, a massive, terrifying bee-like creature emerged, followed by countless smaller ones—The Queen Bee and its Soldiers. These monsters, later known as Aberrations, attacked suddenly and overwhelmingly. The government and military were powerless, with no weapons capable of stopping these monsters.

The aftermath was devastating. Two-thirds of humanity was wiped out, and the world became a wasteland. The survivors were left to hide—cowardly, helplessly—unable to fight back against such powerful enemies.

It wasn't until 2006 that people with superpowers started showing up, each with their own unique abilities to fight off the bee-like creatures. By 2012, the tide began to turn, and the balance started to shift in favor of humanity.

That was how it all started. The crevasses became known as dungeons, and the superpowered people were called ‘Hunters’. The Queen Bee, the one with the crimson glow—or later named ‘aura’—was the first S-rank dungeon. This era came to be known as the Great Breach. 

And every year on August 18th, people celebrated the day, calling it the Feast of The Breached Blue. It became a time for both mourning and warmth, a day to honor the past and encourage hope for the future.

Jae-woo clutched the mug tightly, his grip so firm his knuckles turned white. The porcelain felt fragile under his hands as memories of that dark time surged back into his mind. It was almost ironic—August 18th, 2002, was the day he was born and the day the whole world turned upside down. Now, with his birthday just a few days away, he wished he could wipe that date off the calendar altogether.

Nevertheless, his face betrayed nothing but a nonchalant expression.

“So, you need help.” Jae-woo’s voice was flat, showing he wasn’t really interested. He didn’t even bother to look away from the window.

“I’d like your assistance,” Minhoo corrected firmly. “I wouldn’t be here if your ability weren’t crucial.”

“Psychic type?” Jae-woo asked, casually tilting the tea back and forth, watching the liquid slosh around. When it came to tackling an S-rank dungeon, you either needed some S-rank hunters or a bunch of A-ranks, and there were only eight S-rank hunters in the whole world. Both Minhoo and Jae-woo were among them.

Minhoo, with his striking white hair and deep blue eyes, was the most famous hunter on the popularity ranking at the moment. What started as a casual fun on social media had turned into a serious mark on every hunter’s career. The irony wasn’t lost on Jae-woo—Minhoo now held the top spot that Jae-woo himself had once occupied before retiring, only for Minhoo to take over.

Minhoo’s reputation was solidified by his close ties with the Hunter Association and his graduation from Starlight Academy, the top and also the first institution for hunter training. It made sense that he would be aware of the upcoming second S-rank dungeon and that he would be responsible for handling it.

Since Minhoo was coming to Jae-woo for help—or rather, assistance—it was pretty clear that the dungeon must be a psychic type, which was Jae-woo’s specialty.

The white-haired man nodded in reply, knowing Jae-woo could see him clearly in the window’s reflection.

The room fell silent again. Neither man seemed eager to break the quiet or show much emotion.

Minhoo stood in the middle of the apartment, looking perfectly at ease. While most people might feel uncomfortable in this situation, he was unfazed.

He remained calm and composed, watching Jae-woo intently.

Jae-woo met his gaze with an unreadable expression. It was a silent staring contest, neither willing to blink first. The silence grew heavier with each passing second.

Finally, Jae-woo pushed away from the counter. The sudden movement didn’t startle Minhoo. He observed as Jae-woo walked to the other side of the room, opened a cabinet, and pulled out an old pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“You want one?” Jae-woo asked, holding up the pack.

Minhoo regarded Jae-woo with the same calm, indifferent expression.

“No, I don’t smoke,” Minhoo said, shaking his head slightly.

Jae-woo shrugged, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He took a long drag and exhaled a stream of smoke that drifted lazily into the still air, forming a gray hazy ribbon.

“Your loss,” he said with a hint of amusement that quickly faded, replaced by his usual aloof demeanor. He sat down the couch’s armrest, crossing his legs and giving Minhoo a slow, casual once-over.

“You look good,” Jae-woo added aimlessly, taking another drag from his cigarette.

Minhoo stayed silent, his deep blue orbs following Jae-woo’s movements. Both men knew the compliment was just a throwaway comment, one that didn’t mean much—something they’d heard countless times before. It was clear that Jae-woo’s words didn’t carry any real weight.

Minhoo had anticipated that getting Jae-woo on his raid wouldn’t be easy. He was aware of the challenges, the slim chances, and the strategies he might need. But Minhoo wasn’t worried; he knew exactly what he was dealing with.

Jae-woo continued to smoke, the only sound in the room—the soft crackle of the burning cigarette and the occasional puff of smoke. He didn’t seem bothered by Minhoo’s silence; in fact, it almost looked like it amused him.

When the cigarette was half-finished, Jae-woo finally broke the silence. His voice cut through the calm like distant thunder—ominous but not yet threatening.

“So,” he said, holding up the cigarette, “you’re really going after this S-rank dungeon, huh?” He let out a small, sarcastic laugh that had a mocking edge to it.

Minhoo knew Jae-woo wasn’t asking out of curiosity. There was no reason for Minhoo to lie; news of something as catastrophic as an S-rank dungeon would make headlines soon enough. Plus, Jae-woo, with his resources as an S-rank—even former—likely had his own way to find out. 

So, despite the tension, it was clear to both of them that Minhoo’s words were the truth, and they both knew that Jae-woo knew it too. 

Minhoo stayed silent.

Another long stretch of quiet followed. Jae-woo smoked the cigarette down to its last inch, then ped it on the floor and crushed it under his heel. He pushed up from the armrest and took a deliberate step closer to Minhoo. There was a new, glinting intensity in his eyes.

He stopped right in front of Minhoo, so close they were nearly touching, the height difference was prominent now. 

“Wasting your time,” Jae-woo said softly, letting a plume of smoke drift toward Minhoo’s face. The gesture was clearly intentional, meant to provoke a reaction.

But Minhoo didn’t flinch. He stood still, looking at Jae-woo as if observing an interesting but irrelevant scene. He tilted his head slightly to meet Jae-woo’s gaze, who was a bit taller.

Was he annoyed? No, Minhoo had no reason to be. 

He finally looked away briefly, perhaps gathering his thoughts or finalizing his analysis, before returning his gaze to Jae-woo. “I’ll see you another day, senior,” he said calmly, glancing at his wristwatch. Jae-woo, having graduated from Starlight Academy a class ahead of Minhoo, was indeed the white-haired man’s senior.

Minhoo then excused himself and left the apartment with no hesitation, as if he had anticipated this outcome.

Jae-woo watched him go, leaning against the wall. Minhoo’s composed demeanor and lack of reaction irritated him, making it seem like Minhoo had expected this.

Once the door closed, Jae-woo scowled, pushed off from the wall, and went over to the cabinet. He grabbed another cigarette, lit it, and slumped back onto the couch.

He took a long drag and blew the smoke up toward the ceiling, left alone again with nothing but the silence and his own swirling thoughts.

As expected, Minhoo showed up again the next day. He knocked on Jae-woo's apartment door with just enough force and then waited patiently.

The soft knock broke the stillness of the apartment. Jae-woo, who had been finishing his breakfast, paused to listen. He already knew who it was based on the aura and the walking sound—yet, despite that—he took his time getting to the door. After a moment, he stood up, walked over, and opened it without checking the peephole. There stood Minhoo, looking just as calm and neat as he did the day before.

Meanwhile, Jae-woo was dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, with his red hair slightly more disheveled. He leaned casually against the doorframe, showing no surprise at Minhoo's return.

“Back again,” he said, his tone as indifferent as before.

Minhoo nodded slightly, acknowledging the standard gesture of politeness. After all, Jae-woo was Minhoo’s senior from their time at Starlight Hunter Academy. 

This time, Minhoo didn’t stay silent like before. “Is there no easy way to convince you to join this raid?” he asked bluntly, his voice calm. Thankfully, both of them appreciated directness, and Minhoo's question carried underlying meanings that he wasn’t trying to hide. He probably already knew the answer but asked anyway, perhaps out of habit or curiosity.

Jae-woo looked Minhoo over with a quick, assessing glance. He took another slow drag of his cigarette before responding with equal directness.

“No,” he said simply, letting the word float out with the smoke. He kept his gaze steady, watching Minhoo through the haze.

There was no reason to beat around the bush. They both knew the truth. Jae-woo had no interest in playing games, and Minhoo seemed to understand that well enough.

Minhoo closed his eyes briefly, then looked at Jae-woo again. “Have a nice day, senior,” he said calmly, showing no sign of frustration. 

He gave a casual nod before turning to leave. That ended their second meeting.

Jae-woo watched Minhoo leave, narrowing his eyes slightly. He took another drag from his cigarette, a frown tugging at his lips. A part of him considered calling Minhoo back, perhaps to say something, but the impulse quickly faded. There was no point.

He hated the feeling of people thinking they could just come and go as if his life were a stage. Yet, he stayed silent, letting the smoke swirl around him like a shadow of his own making.

Even as Minhoo walked away, Jae-woo didn't say a word. He knew this wouldn’t be their last encounter.