After takeoff.
Once they reached a safe altitude and there was nothing more to worry about, the atmosphere inside the cabin settled.
Unlike Ayane, Kang-hoo was still wearing the same outfit he had on when they arrived at the airport.
Because of that, there was a stark contrast between him and Ayane, who was dressed in character-themed pajamas.
Noticing Kang-hoo continually glancing at her pajama character, Ayane seemed a bit self-conscious and changed the subject.
“Nothing happened?”
“Not yet.”
“I heard Yuji arrived in Korea. It’s obvious he came targeting you, Kang-hoo.”
“It’s fine so far. I have some eyes watching him. What about you, Ayane? How’ve you been?”
“Wait, Kang-hoo. Should we sort out how we address each other? We’re the same age, so how about just calling each other Kang-hoo and Ayane? It’s a hassle to keep adding ‘you’ every time.”“Agreed.”
With Ayane’s suggestion, they quickly settled the matter of how to address each other.
It seemed the awkward distance between them had caused mixed terms of address before.
But considering they had already seen each other naked, calling each other comfortably didn’t feel strange—it was actually what they preferred.
With that settled, Ayane answered Kang-hoo’s earlier question.
“Right before coming here, I was dealing with some Hayabusa Guild members.”
“Last time I saw you at the Fukuoka Liberation Area, weren’t you working with the Hayabusa Guild?”
“I was. But the contract ended, and the opposing side hired me afterward. So, I was your enemy then.”
“That’s straight out of a mercenary’s handbook.”
“Yeah, I side with whoever pays me.”
“A good attitude for a mercenary.”
Kang-hoo nodded.
A mercenary moves based on better offers and treatment—that’s the nature of the job.
If you want a mercenary on your side, just pay more or offer better terms.
And if you don’t? The contract gets terminated. If it ends there, you’re lucky.
But if they switch sides, like Ayane had now, it becomes a headache.
That’s why skilled mercenaries always set their own price—and Kang-hoo wasn’t much different.
Ayane spoke up.
“I missed you. I kept thinking about what we did together… I really missed it.”
“Be specific.”
“That time in Osaka, when we took out those bad guys. I remembered fighting alongside you, the Hunter from Korea, against the Touishi Guild.”
“We worked well together.”
Kang-hoo nodded.
Even though they hadn’t exchanged a word during the battle, they had instinctively understood each other’s moves.
That’s how they managed to overpower Cha So-hyuk and his gang so easily. Their role distribution was perfect.
Then.
Ayane unbuckled her seatbelt, grabbed a thick file, and slid into the seat next to Kang-hoo.
There was plenty of space next to him, so she had no trouble settling in.
“I want to discuss strategies and tactics for this mission. What do you think? I’ve already done all the background research.”
“You’re incredibly thorough.”
“I’m always meticulous with stuff like this. Aren’t you?”
“I make a few plans, but I usually keep them in my head.”
“I’ve come up with a strategy outline. Take a look and let me know what you think. Don’t hold back on the feedback.”
“A discussion?”
“Exactly.”
“Alright, let’s do it.”
Kang-hoo leaned in and listened carefully to Ayane.
It was clear she had done her homework. In some areas, she had even more insight than he did.
Listening to her, Kang-hoo understood why Ayane had managed to avoid major incidents despite working solo all this time.
She was just as cautious as he was, always considering multiple variables.
A gunner who could take out enemies in an instant from unseen angles.
But Ayane’s skills were tailored for precision and adaptability, excelling in one-on-one encounters.
She clearly understood her role and made decisions based on that.
Kang-hoo liked that.
As he listened, he gave his opinions while respecting her tactics.
They didn’t have many disagreements, so they quickly found common ground. They even made real-time adjustments to the plan.
What could have been a marathon meeting wrapped up in just 30 minutes. They had covered everything.
Now, all that was left was to land in Germany and enter the dungeon. There was nothing more to go over.
An hour later.
“Pfft.”
Returning from the bathroom, Kang-hoo chuckled as he saw Ayane fast asleep, mouth wide open.
She had confidently declared that she would spend the night reviewing dungeon intel, but here she was—sound asleep after just a short break.
Her cold and distant image was long gone, replaced by a more relaxed, somewhat clumsy version of herself.
Kang-hoo took the extra blanket from his seat and draped it over her before returning to his own.
He thought about getting some sleep too, but all the coffee he had drunk during their conversation made that impossible.
The earlier discussion had been significant.
Not only had they strategized, but Ayane had also showcased her abilities in greater detail.
He had already noticed her skills during their fight with Cha So-hyuk, but now he was certain.
‘Ayane and Ban Se-yeong are completely different. Thinking they’re the same is like comparing me to Ma Jin-ho.’
The reason is this:
Ban Se-yeong specialized in mobile warfare, often using powerful, multi-target attacks.
The newly added skill, Demonic Shell, was a prime example. It exploded at the end of its trajectory, hitting multiple enemies.
However, if asked whether it could serve as a finishing move in a one-on-one battle, it lacked the necessary firepower.
In contrast, Ayane’s attacks focused on setting up and delivering a single, heavy, high-damage shot.
That’s why some of Ayane’s attack skills weren’t simple point-and-shoot types like Ban Se-yeong’s. Instead, she had to set up supports to absorb the recoil, line up a precise shot, and fire carefully.
It wasn’t ideal for one-on-one combat, but if enough time was bought, it could deliver a devastating, lethal blow.
That was exciting.
Both Kang-hoo and Ayane could go all-in on a single attack—stacking massive burst damage on top of more burst damage.
At the end of their discussion, Ayane asked Kang-hoo to teach her how to use a dagger.
She wanted to use it as a self-defense weapon in case she was forced into close combat.
Daggers were notoriously difficult to master, but in the right hands, they were among the best tools for self-defense in close-quarters combat.
Ayane had asked him sincerely to teach her, and Kang-hoo had agreed.
It looked like they’d find time to do it soon.
Lars Abel.
Once they arrived in Germany, Kang-hoo would meet Lars, even if only briefly, before heading into the dungeon.
‘I want to make a strong impression during our first meeting.’
He was eager.
How could he pique the ambitious Lars’s interest and draw his attention?
In Takashi’s case, he had played to the guy’s curiosity and gotten great results.
But Lars wasn’t that kind of Hunter—he didn’t care for oddities or novelties.
‘First, I need to complete the mission quickly. That’s the key to differentiating myself from past mercenaries.’
It was important to show that he wasn’t just another disposable mercenary. That alone would earn Lars’s initial interest.
‘There’s a mana-related item that drops in Dungeon 13… Should I give it to him?’
A little bribe might help. Kang-hoo had never met a Hunter who didn’t like getting items.
The mana item wasn’t particularly useful to him—if anything, it was more of a hassle than a help.
‘If I can establish a connection with Lars… And Takashi’s already becoming more involved with me…’
That would make two of The Thirteen Stars he had ties to.
One connection was growing stronger, and the other was just beginning.
But Kang-hoo wanted more.
If he could fracture The Thirteen Stars, he’d be in a much better position.
‘If only I could get closer to Emilia and Yu Cheonghwa too…’
That would be perfect.
He already had reasons to meet both of them.
He had encountered Yu Cheonghwa at a market tied to the Shinto Guild before and even bought an item from her. They had exchanged business cards and ended things on good terms.
As for Emilia, he had once invited her to France, and that invitation was still open.
‘Emilia, Yu Cheonghwa, and Takashi are close. If I play it right, I might be able to pull all of them into one circle.’
The idea grew more exciting the more he thought about it.
Kang-hoo felt his skills had improved enough to catch Emilia and Yu Cheonghwa’s attention now.
After all, a Hunter’s abilities were the main thing that drew other Hunters’ interest—and in that area, he was confident.
Only eight members currently made up The Thirteen Stars, with five more yet to join.
If he could cut them in half, moving forward would become significantly easier. It would also limit the battlefield.
Around the same time.
As the battle near Dongducheon entered a lull, Jang Si-hwan and Chae Gwanhyeong finally had a moment to breathe.
The fighting had been so intense that they hadn’t had time to talk at all.
The Red Tiger Unit, the elite forces of The Abyss, had relentlessly targeted Jang Si-hwan and Chae Gwanhyeong.
Because of that, their movements had been more restricted than expected, but they still racked up significant results.
Together, they had killed forty Hunters from The Abyss—not just foot soldiers, but mid-level officers.
Now, they finally had a break.
Inside a private bunker set up for them, they sipped hot tea.
Jang Si-hwan, looking exhausted, half-reclined on a bed, trying to rest.
But Chae Gwanhyeong couldn’t hold back anymore. He had been stewing over something for a while.
“Si-hwan.”
“Hm?”
“Explain something to me. Why are you using my subordinate for small-fry surveillance?”
“You mean Kim Hee-woon?”
“Yeah. Why so timid? You told him not to fight even if Shin Kang-hoo noticed him following?”
“So what?”
“Do I really have to hear a warning from some punk through my own guy? Isn’t that humiliating?”
Chae Gwanhyeong looked serious, but Jang Si-hwan just smiled calmly.
His expression suggested Chae was blowing things way out of proportion.
“Gwanhyeong. Remember when I brought Vincent into Justice? You reacted the same way.”
“…”
“And when I recruited Emilia and Yu Cheonghwa, you threw a massive fit. But look at them now. They’ve become reliable assets. You get what I’m saying, right? Trust me.”
“Jang Si-hwan.”
“Yeah?”
“Every time I see you act so high and mighty, I want to puke. Weren’t you the one who screamed at me when those guys caused trouble?”
In that instant.
Jang Si-hwan’s smiling face twisted, as if someone had crushed a can.
He moved closer, bringing his mouth to Chae Gwanhyeong’s ear.
Even though they were alone, he wanted to make sure his next words were perfectly clear.
“Gwanhyeong.”
“…?”
“I don’t make mistakes. If someone thinks I do, then it’s their life and thoughts that are wrong. Understand?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“My solution is simple. If someone thinks I’m wrong, I erase them. It’s that easy.”
“So…?”
Chae Gwanhyeong’s voice trembled.
Jang Si-hwan’s icy expression sent chills down his spine.
After pausing for a beat, Jang Si-hwan finished in a calm, unreadable tone.
“Just stay satisfied being my tool. Stop overstepping—thinking and judging like you’re actually important.”
A cold shiver ran down Chae Gwanhyeong’s spine.
He stood frozen, unable to move, long after Jang Si-hwan left the room.
He didn’t dare turn his back on him until the door had fully closed.