Chapter 253. The Matter of Making a Living (4)

The beach was quiet, broken only by the occasional cry of seagulls. Waves crashed again and again along the shore. Neither earthquake came, nor protocol was activated.

Instead, a bright red warning window appeared before Eun-Ho’s eyes, stark against the blue sea.

[Error!]

[Unable to execute requested command.]

[Reason - Not Promoted.]

Not promoted? So that was it.

“It is because our ranks are different.”

The words from earlier echoed faintly in his mind.

“And it’s also because we have raised our rank.”

The union members had been promoted, meaning their rank had elevated, but Eun-Ho had not.

“What are you even doing right—”

Eun-Ho cut off the assistant instructor, who had been unusually talkative today. “Hey.”

Before he could ask if the assistant instructor knew something about this, a dark green light burst from Eun-Ho’s pocket.

This is the Memory Orb, Eun-Ho thought.

The sphere, which contained fragments of the brown-haired boy’s memories, glowed on its own and floated into the air.

Fwaaaash—!

Following that, particles of dark green light wrapped around Eun-Ho. They settled on his skin, seeping in as though absorbed, intertwining with something beneath the surface.

“Lee Eun-Ho?”

He could feel a chemical reaction happening beneath the skin.

[Error!]

[Unable to execute requested command.]

[Reason - Not Promoted.]

At the same time, the red message window began to shake violently, so much that the edges blurred.

[Error!]

[UnaεΠ to exeΛΘζ requested commψγν.]

[Reason - ΤΩω.]

The text inside warped and twisted into unreadable symbols. Finally, after a few seconds, the message window stopped shaking.

The ominous blood-red color vanished, replaced by a translucent white panel. Inside it remained only a single line.

[Verifying qualifications...]

Everything else had been wiped clean.

“Lee Eun-Ho? Are you alright?” the assistant instructor asked urgently.

“I’m fi—”

“Huh?”

“... fine. But... This...”

“Y-you’re...”

Just like that, the assistant instructor, the beach beneath his feet, and the sound of the crashing waves all vanished from Eun-Ho’s vision.

***

The world turned dark green.

A murky haze, whether fog or gas he couldn’t tell, filled the air. It blocked his view so thoroughly that he couldn’t even see the ground he was standing on. He had to bring his own fingers close to his face just to make them out.

“Summon.”

Puff—!

Thankfully, the Sky-Shattering Blade appeared, bringing a familiar cold solidity.

Eun-Ho had no intention of floating endlessly in this unknown space with nothing but confusion to cling to. “Wind Blade.”

Instead of releasing killing intent, he planted his left foot firmly and spun once in a full circle. Then, a vortex burst from the blue-black blade.

Whoosh—

The swirling wind pushed back the haze, revealing a space roughly his height. A scene appeared through the thinning mist. There was a blue sky, gray ground, colorful buildings, and crowds of people. Like a painting submerged in water, it wavered, its colors bleeding and running. Gradually, the flowing image began to regain its proper colors.

“Get away! It’s a Class-Two monster species!”

Huh?

Eun-Ho had sent out wind, yet what came back was a woman’s voice that was urgent and panicked.

Get away? And a Class-Two monster species?

Those were words that he didn’t understand. On top of that, there was a background noise of buildings collapsing.

Thump.

Eun-Ho moved toward the wavering scene.

“And kid, stay hidden here and behave. Hunters will be here soon.”

“Huh?”

He took a step closer.

“Don’t take pictures just because you’re curious. Some of those things have nasty tempers.”

“Ah, um! Over here!”

“Hm? What is that? Huh?!”

He took two more steps.

“The hunter who was supposed to come is you?”

“Yes! Here’s my hunter ID.”

“Then you’re that youngest A-rank hunter?”

Eun-Ho followed the voices. The closer he walked, the clearer the sounds became, as if words were spilling directly from his own mouth.

Then, the image before him sharpened.

Thump.

It was an identification card bearing the photo of a curly brown-haired boy. There also was a woman holding a microphone.

And is this Gangnam Station?

The sign for Gangnam Station Exit 8 lay crushed beneath a collapsed building, groaning amid the wreckage. Soon, it became clear that the catastrophe wasn’t caused by an earthquake or poor construction, but a roaring monster the size of a house.

They were in Seoul, on Earth. However, it was not the Seoul he knew nor the Earth he had lived on.

“Hah.”

Without realizing it, Eun-Ho lowered his head and wearily dragged a hand down his face.

Sector Thirteen was what the company called their home. Eun-Ho didn’t know what standard the numbering followed, but one thing was certain: there had to be at least twelve others like it.

He had already known other Earths existed. During his OJT with the Investigation Bureau, he had even visited the desert of Sector Seven.

But this is Seoul...

It felt completely different from that corroded desert he had seen after everything had ended. It was a Seoul where monsters existed, where hunters fought them and where people lived as though that reality were perfectly normal.

Ripple—

Just then, the scenery wavered violently.

Eun-Ho closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “What the...”

The image of Seoul had vanished. In its place, a thin red line stretched across the ground.

He traced the faint mark with his eyes, but all he could see beyond it was the fog. “A line?”

Thump.

The moment he placed his foot on the line, it opened like a folding fan. When both feet stood upon it, the fan widened further, forming a path that stretched forward into the unseen mist.

Maybe it’s a guidepost.

He understood instinctively that if he followed this road, he would leave this place.

I should go.

He had to get out and investigate these other Earths.

Just as he prepared to move forward, another vision surfaced, shimmering like disturbed water. This time, it was in front of a large red mirror. It was Sinchon.

“Mr. Hunter is here!”

“Wait, isn’t that the kid from that commercial?!”

“You’re A-rank, right? We only have C-ranks here. Please help us!”

The curly-haired boy hesitated but nodded politely, forcing a smile even as the weight of their expectations grew heavy on his shoulders. At that moment, a man stepped forward and blocked the crowd.

“You don’t have to listen to people like that,” the man said calmly.

“Huh?!” the boy replied.

“Just because someone’s older doesn’t mean they’re actually an adult.”

Wait. I’ve seen that man.

Eun-Ho recognized him.

“Just because you’re not dead doesn’t mean you’re truly alive.”

It was the black-haired man from the boy’s memories.

So they knew each other even before joining the company...

Eun-Ho didn’t have to see the rest to imagine what followed.

They probably fought monsters side by side, surviving the sudden corporate restructuring together. In the end, they likely endured it all and joined the company.

Puff—

A faint cluster of light appeared at the end of the red road, coming from a colorful door.

Eun-Ho grasped the smooth doorknob. Just as he felt the cool metal and began to turn it, another scene surfaced.

A towering, familiar tree stood proudly in the distance. He knew this place well. The magnificent ancient tree he had once reached with the chairman, who had frozen time itself.

“I-I’m nervous!” someone said anxiously. “My name’s weird... You won’t make fun of me, right?”

The place bustled with countless people. Among them stood the curly-haired boy, the black-haired man, Ayasa, the Crow, and another familiar face.

Huh? Why is she there?

The woman appeared completely out of place among them. Eun-Ho hurried forward, trying to get a closer look.

Ding!

[Congratulations!]

[You have absorbed the memory fragment left by a predecessor.]

[The predecessor’s will continues.]

[Your rank has slightly increased.]

Message windows appeared one after another, flooding his vision. By the time he cleared them all away, the door opened. A powerful gust shoved him forward from behind.

What?

“Lee Eun-Ho?”

The sight before him was neither Seoul nor the ancient tree. It was his own face.

“Did you push me?” Eun-Ho asked.

“What are you talking about? Push you?” the assistant instructor replied.

“No, just now, inside the memory—”

“Did you lose your mind already?”

All the scenes had disappeared. Gone as if something had firmly declared that this was as far as he was allowed to see.

Whoooosh—

The same beach that would remain safe even if an earthquake struck had returned.

The assistant instructor was staring at something in Eun-Ho’s hand. “Oh, it’s broken.”

The once smooth orb had shattered, as though smashed by a hammer.

“Yeah,” Eun-Ho said calmly. “It broke.”

The assistant instructor frowned. “But wasn’t that something important?”

Eun-Ho shook his head and said, “It’s fine.”

[Qualification Verification - Complete]

The orb had already served its purpose.

What Eun-Ho could and had to do from here on was to carry on the will of his predecessors.

[Would you like to check your Life Point(LP) status?]

So Life Point is what LP stood for, Eun-Ho thought.

“Yes.”

The moment he answered, lines of text began appearing rapidly.

[Life Point(LP) Status]

- Current: 1.8 LP

- Total Accumulated: 1.8 LP

[Go to Shop]

[Usage History]

[Team Member Status]

...

So far, Eun-Ho had encountered four different types of points: Trial Points used to upgrade skills and stats, Education Points required to attend lectures, Welfare Points used as currency in the shop, and Benefit Points used for team management. Now there was a fifth called Life Points.

Guess I’ll find out by using them.

Eun-Ho slid his finger over the [Go to Shop] option. He had to uncover what kind of leash the chairman and this company were holding around their necks.

Another reason was that the special orders and the rewards tied to the revolution demanded it.

[2] Unity

- Gather the scattered will of the people and claim it.

- The stronger the loyal hearts you gather, the stronger you shall become.

Click.

[Moving to the Clock Room.]

***

The Clock Room obviously wasn’t a place that sold or repaired clocks. Eun-Ho had never expected anything that ordinary in the first place. After everything he had already seen and heard in this company, normality was the last thing he anticipated.

Even so, when he descended as if falling from the sky, the place still surpassed his expectations.

Thud!

The ground was moving. It was a long, narrow surface that was smooth and black, like polished wood coated in ink.

Ssssh—!

Above his head, another black surface swept past, crossing over the ground and sliding by with terrifying speed. At the far end of the dark floor stood a massive cogwheel, round and heavy. It wasn’t a floor nor a ceiling. The long boards rotating around a central axis were the minute hand and second hand of a gigantic clock.

Eun-Ho was standing directly on top of one of them.

What kind of room is this?!

The absurd scale of it made him laugh in disbelief. Just then, a bell began to ring.

Ding— Ding— Ding— Ding— Ding— Ding—

It rang six times. The bell was so enormous that the vibrations left him reeling. The source of the sound came from the central axis where the hour, minute, and second hands met.

Looking closely, Eun-Ho spotted a small tower standing atop that circular hub. “Summon. Activate.”

Wings unfolded from his back. He flew straight toward the tower and stopped before a door that was nearly three times his height.

The bell’s lingering vibrations still tingled across his skin. He steadied himself with a deep breath before pushing the door open.

Creeeak—

[Welcome to the Clock Room.]

Oh gosh.

The ceiling stretched impossibly high. Walls extended in every direction, filled from top to bottom with towering shelves. The shelves were so tall that even when Eun-Ho tilted his head back as far as it would go, he couldn’t see where they ended.

He initially thought it was a library. However, the instant he realized the shelves were filled with clocks instead of books, the countless ticking seconds pierced straight into his ears.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

[Please choose the clock you want.]

There were round analog clocks with golden rims, grandfather clocks with tiny birds chirping from inside, small wristwatches, clocks taller than Eun-Ho himself, and even a miniature clock tower occupying an entire corner.

Their shapes and sizes varied wildly, but they all shared one strange trait.

Why are they all moving like that?

The second hands rotated to the left and so did the minute and hour hands.

It’s just like time is being shaved away.

Rustle—

Eun-Ho reached toward the nearest shelf, no, the nearest clock rack, and picked up a small wristwatch.

Suddenly, a blue window appeared.

[One Day]

- Purchase Price: 1,000 LP

- Purchase Unavailable(Reason: Not Promoted)

Huh? One day as in twenty-four hours?

He tried another clock.

[One Year]

- Purchase Price: 365,000 LP

- Purchase Unavailable(Reason: Not Promoted)

A palm-sized desk clock represented one year.

[Five Years]

- Purchase Price: 3,650,000 LP

- Purchase Unavailable(Reason: Not Promoted)

This one was about the same size but framed with gold, its hands shining with a golden sheen.

[Hundred Years]

- Purchase Price: 36,500,000 LP

- Purchase Unavailable(Reason: Not Promoted)

Finally, there was a massive grandfather clock, taller than Eun-Ho himself. It was an utterly staggering number.

“What are you standing around for?! We need to buy it now!”

The union members’ desperate voices echoed in his mind.

“There’s only one week left!”

He remembered them pacing anxiously, watching the seconds slip away as they counted down what little time remained.

What if what they truly required had never been a clock? What if it wasn’t an item at all, but time itself? What if they had been buying lifespan the way someone would purchase equipment, stretching their existence into something close to immortality? What if, at this very moment, the company had raised the price of time a thousandfold?

A chill ran down Eun-Ho’s spine.

Just then, the door to the Clock Room opened.

Creaaak—!

“One month?” someone said.

“Too short!” another voice snapped.

“One year?”

“Too expensive!”

Eun-Ho froze as those voices sounded familiar.