Two Days Later – Suwon High School
Life had returned to a strange normal.
Jung Ha-Joon sat in his seat by the window, flipping through a math workbook as the teacher droned on about derivatives.
Outside, the clouds were low. The wind pressed gently against the windows. Students half-listened, half-slept.
But Ha-Joon's senses were sharp.
Even now, he could hear the faint click of a camera shutter from a car parked across the street.
He didn't look out the window. Didn't react.
But he knew.
Someone was watching him.
---
Lunch Break – Rooftop
The school rooftop was empty except for a few pigeons and the soft whistle of wind through the railing.
Ha-Joon stood with his hands in his pockets, facing the sky.
He didn't like being watched.
Not again.
He'd endured that in other worlds.
Kings. Gods. Monsters.
Beings who tried to understand what he had become… before they were erased.
Now it was happening again.
But this time, he wouldn't act recklessly.
Not yet.
---
Across the Street – Black SUV
Inside a black SUV with tinted windows, two men in suits sat silently, watching the school entrance through binoculars.
> "You sure it's him?" one asked.
> "His image pinged on the drone feed. No aura, but he reacted before the gate flared."
> "Could be a coincidence."
> "A support trainee with glowing red eyes?" the man said flatly. "There's no such thing as coincidence with gates."
He tapped on a tablet.
> "Pull his school records. Attendance gap last year matches the timeline of the unlogged gate event."
The other man frowned.
> "You think he's one of the unregistered Awakened?"
> "If he is… he's hiding it very well."
---
At Home – That Evening
Ha-Joon walked through the door just as Ha-Rin was laying bowls on the table.
> "Perfect timing," she said. "I was just about to yell for you."
He smiled faintly and took his seat.
His mother served soup. His father returned from his shift with tired steps but smiled wide when he saw everyone together.
Ha-Joon ate quietly, answering small talk with short, warm replies.
Everything looked normal.
But he could feel the cameras outside.
Parked two buildings down.
One on the traffic light pole.
Another inside a parked car pretending to be a food delivery vehicle.
They were careful.
But not careful enough.
---
That Night – In His Room
Ha-Joon sat by the window, laptop open, browsing old hunter news and gate reports. A blank notepad lay beside him, filled with scribbles, dates, locations, and cross-references.
Patterns were forming.
Gate behaviors had shifted—slightly. Too subtle for most to notice, but to him, it was obvious.
The rules of Earth's system were adapting.
Changing.
Mimicking things he'd seen before.
> "Which means either someone's learning from that world…"
> "…or something slipped through with me."
He closed the laptop.
And his crimson eyes glowed in the dark for just a moment.
---
Elsewhere – Korea Hunter Association HQ, Seoul
The man in the black coat stood in front of a large monitor.
Behind him, senior analysts whispered and tapped away on keyboards.
> "Still no aura signature. No psychic fluctuations. No mana distortion."
> "Then what triggered the gate's reaction?"
> "That's what we're trying to find out."
The man didn't blink.
He stared at the paused frame on the screen—a freeze-frame of Ha-Joon's face from Gate Zone 3. His crimson-red eyes faintly glowing beneath his lenses.
> "He's not awakened," he muttered.
"He's beyond that."
---
Next Morning – A Warning
As Ha-Joon stepped outside to take out the trash, a crumpled note lay by the gate.
No envelope. No name.
Just folded and tucked under a rock like someone didn't want it to fly away.
He opened it.
> "You're being watched. They're not from the Association."
"Don't show your power."
"Don't trust anyone. Not even other hunters."
– B
He read it once, then calmly tore it into pieces and let the wind carry it away.
Who was B?
A warning from a friend? Or bait from an enemy?
Either way, he already knew.
> "I never trusted anyone in the first place."
---
After School – Hunter Association Check-In
As part of ongoing support training, all registered trainees were required to visit the branch once a week for check-ins.
Ha-Joon arrived in uniform, passed his ID, and entered the facility like usual.
But something had changed.
The staff at the front desk were newer.
The scanner at the door lingered longer on his badge.
A woman behind the counter glanced at a tablet twice before handing him a clipboard.
> "Please wait here," she said. "Someone from internal affairs wants to speak with you."
Ha-Joon didn't move.
Didn't blink.
> "Sure," he said.
---
Interview Room 4 – Hunter Branch Office
The room was quiet. White walls. A metal desk. A small camera in the corner.
A tall man with gray-streaked hair walked in, wearing a dark jacket with a small Association emblem.
> "Mr. Jung Ha-Joon," he said, sitting across from him. "Thank you for your time."
> "Yes, sir."
> "We're conducting a routine survey of trainee experiences. You were at Gate Zone 3 twice—correct?"
> "Yes."
> "Did you notice anything unusual during your observation?"
> "No."
The man smiled politely.
> "Nothing at all?"
> "Just a surge reading. But I stayed back like we were told."
> "No headaches? No visual distortion?"
> "No, sir."
The man nodded and made a note.
> "Last question," he said. "Have you ever… awakened and failed to report it?"
Ha-Joon met his gaze.
Calm. Level.
> "No."
---
Back Home – Rooftop
Ha-Joon stood under the sky again, hands in his hoodie pocket.
The interview hadn't rattled him. But the timing told him everything.
They weren't guessing anymore.
They were testing him.
Waiting for him to slip.
But he wouldn't.
He had walked among stars. Broken time. Slain ancient kings.
He would not fall to politics and human suspicion.
> "You can watch," he said softly.
"But you'll never see."
---