Chapter 366: Survival Strategy (1) |
People usually called the place where they slept, washed, and rested “home.”
Lee Ye-rin certainly had such a place, but she always wondered whether this counted as “home.”
Because as many people hated her as followed her, security was everything.
So once she began running the Cheong-an Mercenary Corps, she had never stayed at a personal residence.
Her quarters were always the private space prepared inside the corps’ building.
That was still true now.
The top floor of the Cheong-an Building—the exclusive building of the Cheong-an Mercenary Corps—was her home. A home unlike most people’s idea of one.
Its security was the very best, and it had everything she needed, so there was nothing to miss.
It simply didn’t have that lived-in feel, the aroma of a home-cooked meal made by a mother.
Of course, inside, she looked like any single woman enjoying her own private space.
Crunch, crunch. Gulp, gulp.
With her hair yanked back in a ponytail, Lee Ye-rin was enjoying potato chips with non-alcoholic beer.
She hadn’t touched beer without alcohol in the past, but lately she was trying to quit drinking.
Her attending physician had recently warned that her alcohol dependence was rising and that her short-term memory could suffer if she kept it up.
What began as a pleasant nightcap before sleep had crept up in quantity bit by bit.
Anyway, thanks to her doctor, today marked a week of abstinence. It was going smoother than she’d expected.
But—
“Huh?”
Hwae-aek!
Watching the Hunter News on TV out of habit while lost in her chips, Lee Ye-rin sprang to her feet.
Most stories wouldn’t have surprised her, but today’s was a shock. It was even labeled breaking news.
[Around midnight, “Eclipse” and “Sun” announced an official merger.
Leaders Kang Dong-hyun and Kang Tae-yang attended with all executives present.
Though public opinion of both groups is very poor, the move appears to be a survival strategy in response to recent changes in the Daejeon region.]
“Weren’t they completely split over the murder of their biological mother? I heard they were worse than enemies.”
Lee Ye-rin’s eyes wavered.
She had long known about the criminal group Sun, and that its leader Kang Tae-yang was Kang Dong-hyun’s half brother.
But by all accounts, their relationship was far beyond bad—she’d thought they would never join forces.
Reliable inside sources had said the same.
Both Kang Dong-hyun and Kang Tae-yang supposedly said they’d rather die than work together.
What followed was even more shocking.
[Both leaders vehemently denied the rumors.
In short, they claimed their biological father—since deceased—killed their mother…
and that the two were not half brothers but full brothers.
They further declared that their father was the true culprit behind everything, and that the rift between them was a long-standing misunderstanding.]
“Ha.”
Gulp, gulp.
Lee Ye-rin downed her beer.
Whether their explanation was true or false didn’t matter—it was an internal affair either way.
The problem was that Sun, which had quietly grown in Jeonju without interference, was merging with Eclipse.
Objectively, Kang Tae-yang was far more capable than Kang Dong-hyun, with more well-known talents.
And Sun’s executives and elites were hardened mercenaries from China and Southeast Asia.
In experience and persistence, they were a step above Eclipse—only their total headcount was a bit smaller.
[The official name will be unified as “Eclipse,” and the newly announced hierarchy is as follows.
Rank 1: Vacant. Rank 2: Kang Tae-yang. Rank 3: Kang Dong-hyun. Accordingly, the de facto leader of Eclipse becomes Hunter Kang Tae-yang.]
“This is a mess… a complete mess…”
On screen, the two brothers and their executives shook hands, vowing to reclaim hegemony over Daejeon.
“I can’t believe the prideful Kang Dong-hyun would take the hand of the ‘bastard’ he used to curse as even worse than himself…”
Her head throbbed.
Lee Ye-rin was cautious and usually accounted for variables, but this time was an exception.
If Eclipse’s hunters were just thugs, Sun’s hunters were like well-trained special forces.
She had hoped they would focus on overseas mercenary work rather than domestic affairs, as before.
But things looked ready to tangle.
This would also make Heuksaja a headache.
If those spineless Heuksaja dogs took the side of the reorganized Eclipse, the balance of power in Daejeon would flip.
In the worst case, the Cheong-an Mercenary Corps might end up packing their bags and leaving Daejeon.
A great deal had passed between Kang-hoo and Celestial Assassin.
Celestial Assassin was cautious.
He did not tell the exact contents of the “secret.” Instead, he wanted to hear Kang-hoo’s thoughts.
Kang-hoo realized this wasn’t because his master didn’t trust him, but because he wondered whether Kang-hoo could bear the weight of the secret.
He would have felt the same in the reverse situation.
No one could know whether a “critical” secret you held would also be meaningful to the other person.
“What I want is just one thing. For everything to flow in the natural order—not be twisted by someone’s desire.”
“What do you call that ‘natural order’? Everyone’s standard differs. It’s a vague notion.”
“That countless fates not be dragged into one person’s warped ambition or misguided hope.”
“Hearing that, you sound like you want to be a savior who saves the world.”
“I’m not aiming that high. But I do want to stop a false savior.”
“Heh.”
Celestial Assassin laughed.
It seemed like a laugh loaded with meaning.
His lips smiled, but his eyes grew much deeper and colder than usual.
This was not light conversation, nor was it born of petty personal feelings.
“Even after finishing this book, I struggled with whether giving it to you was right. I even thought of scrapping it.”
“…”
“Or just handing it over and trying to live as a relaxed bystander. I needed time, but I came to a conclusion.”
“Please tell me.”
“I’ll hand you only the first page. Then I’ll watch how you judge and think about this matter.”
“When you say the first page…?”
Flap!
Rip! Riiip!
Celestial Assassin opened the notebook and tore out the first page, handing it to Kang-hoo.
For a moment, dense writing on other pages flashed by, but he couldn’t make it out.
“Read it. I’ll give you plenty of time to think.”
Having given over the first page, Celestial Assassin turned and walked a short way in a different direction.
He was giving Kang-hoo space to read without feeling watched—deadlines could rush a mind.
What sort of “secret” was his master handling? Heart pounding, Kang-hoo scanned the page.
[Elizabeth Rowe]
[Called the Saintess of Salvation, but the unofficial number of victims sacrificed by her totals 579. Murder charges.
Her “miracles of salvation” imply that for every person revived, a life is paid in return.
“Ihwa (Pear Blossom)” attempted to eliminate her, but was stopped by “Red Eyes.” She is protected on all fronts.]
‘So this is what goosebumps feel like.’
For the first time since his transmigration, gooseflesh rose on Kang-hoo’s forearms.
It wasn’t long, but the content was far from ordinary.
‘Given the collaborator-twist ending, Elizabeth’s fake salvation makes sense. It’s not impossible.’
In the original work, Elizabeth had been written as gentle and kind in every small way—the “good” archetype.
But that could have been from Jang Si-hwan’s “delusion.” It wouldn’t be strange if reality differed.
Whenever Kang-hoo thought of Jang Si-hwan now, he placed one grand premise first:
that every depiction of surrounding characters in the original had been the delusions of a fractured self.
If the original had ended in a happy, salvific way, he wouldn’t have needed such a premise.
But because he—its author—had, to his frustration, twisted the ending completely, every interpretation had changed.
So the suggestion that Elizabeth might be a villain didn’t surprise him. It even felt plausible.
However— two things stuck out.
First, that someone called Ihwa had tried and failed to kill Elizabeth.
Second, that the protector was Red Eyes—apparently referring to crimson eyes, by context.
‘If Red Eyes protected her, that means she’s carrying a separate purse. She’s already joined Justice—the current “Thirteen Stars.”’
Jang Si-hwan, ignorant of the inner workings, wouldn’t know, but this implied Elizabeth had a double affiliation.
To Kang-hoo, this wasn’t an accidental occurrence—it looked like something with sly, deliberate purpose.
‘It could be infiltration.’
Zooming out made the picture clearer.
He judged it as a form of infiltration under orders from Red Eyes or an organization connected to it.
Maybe Elizabeth was a watcher, maybe an internal mole. He couldn’t know that yet.
Then Celestial Assassin, having taken a loop at a polite distance, asked gently:
“Finished reading?”
“Yes, Master.”
“According to what I’ve gathered, Elizabeth Rowe has grown quite close with Jang Si-hwan, master of the Jeonghwa Guild.”
“Ah, I see.”
He couldn’t say, “I know it already because I transmigrated,” so he let it pass.
What shocked him was that his master already knew of Elizabeth and Jang Si-hwan’s relationship, which wasn’t publicly known.
Without a separate information network or an insider, this was information no one could have.
At that moment,
Kang-hoo felt that the part of his master he knew was far smaller than the part he didn’t.
“Celestial Assassin, the famed assassin” might be only a sliver of his whole.
“This was the first thing I wanted to show you. I’m not ordering you to do anything. I simply want to see how you think and judge with this information.”
“Understood.”
“Doing nothing—bystanding—is one option. I’m not saying you must draw blood, nor that you must approach and extract intel.”
“Yes, I’ll consider it carefully.”
“Good. Once I’ve settled my thoughts about your judgment, then you can see the second page.”
It felt like a major exam.
Kang-hoo’s expression grew serious at a task whose “answer” he couldn’t even guess.
‘Elizabeth Rowe.’
In the original, framed strongly as the Saintess of Salvation, she had required little scrutiny.
It was time to revisit every memory of her from start to finish.
If Elizabeth was not a branch bound to the root named Jang Si-hwan— then he had to learn where that offshoot had grown in secret. Without fail.