The sound of the door unlocking was soft, but it might as well have been thunder.

  Three heads whipped toward the hallway.

  And then… he stepped out.

  Lee Aseok.

  He wore white .. all white.

  Not the formal ceremonial white that screamed look at me, but a quiet, clean palette that somehow amplified his presence tenfold.

  A loose white shirt tucked into white tailored pants, a sleeveless white coat draped down to his calves, and pristine white shoes without a speck of dust.

  His long black hair, usually untamed and hiding half his face, was now tied into a high ponytail, revealing the full structure of his face for the first time.

  And that face…

  Fair. Pale. Bare of expression. Eyes so still and unfazed that they looked almost translucent.

  Long lashes, high cheekbones, and the kind of sharpness to his features that looked too precise to be real. Like an illustration from a high-fantasy novel where saints descended from heavens only once in a thousand years.

  Floating behind him was the holy sword, its silver-golden light faint but pulsing steadily..like a heartbeat in sync with his own. The sword circled him once, then stilled at his side, as if content.

  There was no aura. No dramatic energy flaring. No wind, no divine choir, no fireworks.

  Yet the silence that followed was the loudest they’d ever experienced.

  Even the phone stopped vibrating.

  Mu Yichen’s eyes widened slightly. He rarely showed much on his face, but this… this startled even him.

  His heartbeat kicked once, twice..too fast, too loud. His throat tightened for a moment, though he didn’t know why.

  Seo MinHyun, who had been about to get up again to rant, froze halfway.

  He blinked. Blinked again.

  Then, slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating, he reached down and pinched his own arm.

  “...Ow,” he muttered.

  Taegun’s mouth opened a little, like he was going to say something.

  Then he closed it.

  Then opened it again.

  Nothing came out.

  Not a single one of them could speak.

  Lee Aseok simply stood there. Silent. His gaze swept across them once. It wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t curious. It was… vacant. As if he wasn’t looking at people, but scenery.

  His long lashes lowered slightly as if even maintaining eye contact took too much energy.

  He looked less like someone attending a meeting, and more like someone wandering through a dream.

  Mu Yichen was the first to recover from the stillness that had gripped the room like frost.

  His steps were light as he stood, gaze lingering on the door Lee Aseok had just exited through.

  His lips curled into a helpless smile. “We’re already late,” he said mildly, brushing a hand over his coat to straighten the folds. “And the people waiting at HQ… aren’t exactly pleased.”

  He didn’t need to say more. The tension in the air was already thick with the irritation of world leaders, guild masters, and a dozen bureaucrats pacing with their phones in hand.

  To his surprise, Lee Aseok, who stood at the entrance with the holy sword still calmly floating around him like a satellite, gave a light nod.

  “Good,” he said.

  Simple. Flat. Entirely sincere.

  Seo MinHyun’s jaw dropped. “You…Did..Good? You think that’s a good thing?!”

  Clicking his tongue, MinHyun tossed his hands up in dramatic exasperation. “Doesn’t matter how holy you look, still absolutely insane. Now he just looks even more unhinged in that all-white ensemble. Who wakes up, dresses like a divine being, and walks out like he owns the afterlife?”

  Lee Aseok did not respond. Naturally.

  Instead, he turned his head just slightly. The holy sword followed like a shadow. Its point turned slowly… toward the front door.

  The meaning was clear.

  “Is the sword giving us directions now?” MinHyun muttered, still sulking. “What is this, divine GPS?”

  Mu Yichen just chuckled lightly. He exchanged a glance with Park Taegun, who was already adjusting the sleeves of his coat with precise movements, a subtle tension around his eyes that said this is a mistake, and we’re walking straight into it.

  No one said it out loud, but the feeling was mutual.

  Still, they followed, three top-ranked awakeners trailing after a teenager dressed like a holy revenant on a casual stroll.

  The ride was quiet. Uncomfortably so.

  The air in the car was thick with static and judgment. Lee Aseok had claimed the window seat like a sullen cat, head tilted, gaze fixed on the passing scenery.

  The holy sword floated at his shoulder, pulsing faintly with light. No one dared ask where he got the sword’s “hover” mode.

  Mu Yichen sat beside him, eyes half-lidded, glancing occasionally in the rearview mirror.

  Behind them, Seo MinHyun sprawled like a prince dethroned, legs crossed over Park Taegun’s lap just to be a nuisance.

  Park Taegun, ever the soldier, endured this in silence, but the twitch in his eyebrow was getting dangerous.

  Finally, Park Taegun pulled out a thin black folder and extended it toward Lee Aseok.

  His voice was flat. “This is a briefing. You'll be meeting representatives from the World Awakened Council, including some hostile nations. Names, ranks, affiliations. Read it.”

  Lee Aseok didn’t even glance at it.

  Silence.

  Park Taegun remained still, arm extended. “Read it.”

  Still no response.

  Seo MinHyun leaned his head back against the seat and sighed like he’d aged ten years in one day. “Should’ve just written it on a billboard and posted it outside his window. Might’ve been more effective.”

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  Mu Yichen gave a faint sigh of his own. “Taegun, maybe let it..”

  “No,” Park Taegun cut in firmly. “He needs to understand this isn’t some side quest in a game. People are watching.”

  Lee Aseok was annoyed.

  Not angry. Not irritated. Just… fundamentally inconvenienced by existence.

  The holy sword had been orbiting him like an overly clingy pet since morning, glowing faintly, humming under its breath like it was trying to draw attention.

  He’d already tried ignoring it, then glaring at it, and finally pretending he didn’t exist.

  None had worked. The sword, like many annoying things in life, remained persistent.

  Now, to make matters worse, Park Taegun had handed him a file.

  Lee Aseok, who had been lazily staring out the window with a deadpan expression, didn’t even blink.

  With one hand, he took the file. With the same amount of emotion one might apply to swatting a fly, he turned slightly and tossed it out of the moving car’s window.

  Like it was nothing.

  Like the world inside didn’t matter at all.

  Silence filled the car.

  Seo MinHyun let out a low whistle. “And there it goes,” he muttered. “Six hours of military-grade intel… sacrificed to the wind.”

  Mu Yichen didn’t say anything. His gaze shifted to Park Taegun, who still sat upright and motionless, as if nothing had happened.

  But even from where he sat, Mu Yichen could see it…Taegun’s right index finger twitching like it was struggling to stay attached to his body instead of launching across the seat.

  A subtle spasm. Barely there.

  But enough to know that the soldier in him was screaming internally.

  Seo MinHyun leaned over toward Mu Yichen, whispering behind a not-so-subtle hand. “You think he’s gonna snap?”

  Mu Yichen shook his head gently, voice soft. “He’s a professional.”

  “Yeah,” MinHyun nodded solemnly. “A professional murderer.”

  Meanwhile, Lee Aseok sat there like nothing happened.

  Gaze flat. Face unreadable. The sword gently floated behind his shoulder, tilting with every bump in the road as if casually keeping rhythm.

  Mu Yichen looked at him then..truly looked.

  At the young man whose face still held a trace of boyishness but whose eyes held a weariness that didn’t belong to someone his age.

  Beautiful, yes. Ethereal, yes. But broken in places no one could see unless they looked long enough.

  Mu Yichen’s expression softened. His thoughts, however, sharpened.

  He didn’t care if Lee Aseok hated him.

  He didn’t care if the boy never forgave him for what he planned to do..or what he might have to do.

  But one thing was certain.

  He would not let Lee Aseok die..

  If it meant dragging him back from the edge of the world, then so be it.

  If it meant ruining his own name in the process, then so be it.

  Let the world see him as the villain, as long as Lee Aseok lived.

  The car ride had fallen into a strange, deceiving quiet.

  Lee Aseok remained motionless, head tilted just slightly toward the window, eyes half-lidded in that signature disinterest of his.

  The holy sword floated beside him in a slow, haunting orbit.

  Its faint golden glow flickered in rhythm with the motion of the vehicle, bathing the interior in occasional light like the pulse of something very much alive and annoyed.

  Park Taegun sat across from him with the rigidity of a soldier en route to battle.

  Mu Yichen was silent, arms loosely crossed, his gaze occasionally drifting toward Aseok.

  Seo MinHyun, legs crossed dramatically, sighed louder than necessary every few seconds and fiddled with his hair like the moment demanded aesthetic.

  The atmosphere, though calm, was stretched thin like glass.

  But it was calm before the storm.

  Outside the Federation Headquarters, tension brewed.

  Dozens of staff members and high-level representatives from the world’s most influential guilds and governments were already present.

  Conversations had grown sharper. Patience was wearing dangerously thin. Phones buzzed nonstop, clipped orders were passed, and a sharp line had formed outside the main entrance.

  “They’re five hours late.”

  “This is absurd. Who does he think he is?”

  “I heard the chosen one doesn’t even talk to people. Is he mentally unstable?”

  “Even the holy sword doesn’t excuse this level of arrogance.”

  The voices clashed and echoed through the courtyard, some hushed and venomous, others open with irritation.

  The staff from top guilds like Sky Flame, Steel Spine, and Golden Root stood grouped with their usual air of superiority.

  Dressed in designer suits laced with enchanted thread and combat uniforms embedded with relics, they looked less like professionals and more like war-ready celebrities.

  The government officials weren’t much different.

  They were trying their best to look dignified while hiding their increasing frustration. It wasn’t just about time, it was about control. And the chosen hero was making it clear he didn’t care.

  But not everyone was scowling.

  In front of the HQ building, among the lower-level staff, whispers of curiosity danced through the air.

  “Do you know the rank of the chosen one?”

  “No, he is unknown but there was a rumer he used to live in the west zone.”

  “West Zone? The ghost place?”

  “Yeah..how weird”

  Another corner…

  “He doesn’t talk? At all?”

  “Apparently hasn’t spoken to anyone for over a year. They say his face is terrifying.”

  “Terrifying? I heard he’s… kinda pretty.”

  A few exchanged nervous giggles. Others leaned closer to catch sight of the long-awaited arrival.

  Because if there was one truth, it was this: no matter how much the powerful grumbled about protocol and authority, the chosen one would always be the subject of awe.

  Even if he arrived late.

  Even if he didn’t care.

  A sudden hush fell across the courtyard as the black car finally turned the corner and approached the private entrance.

  All heads turned.

  Phones stopped clicking. Conversations halted mid-sentence. The irritation hadn’t vanished, but it was tempered now with alertness, like the moment before a verdict.

  “They’re here,” someone whispered.

  All conversations ceased. Like a ripple passing through water, every head turned to watch as the car rolled to a stop in front of the building’s private entrance.

  The expressions on the faces of the gathered elites, guild executives, government envoys, and ranking staff, were anything but pleasant.

  The car came to a smooth stop. No sirens, no dramatic music, no grand opening.

  Just silence.

  But amidst the tension and passive-aggressive sighs, a different kind of excitement crackled among the regular staff.

  They huddled near the walls, whispering with bright eyes.

  “That’s really them? All four?”

  “They say the chosen one’s so strong, even the holy sword picked him without hesitation.”

  “I heard he doesn’t talk to anyone.”

  “I heard he’s cursed.”

  “I heard he’s…hot.”

  “Shut up.”

  But no one moved.

  Everyone watched.

  The car door opened.

  The first to step out was Park Taegun.

  Stoic. Clean. Imposing.

  Dressed in a charcoal-black suit, his movements were crisp, military precise. His gaze swept the crowd once, sharp and piercing, as if calculating who was a threat, who was a liability, and who wasn’t worth the breath.

  A wave of instinctual submission followed. People backed up without meaning to.

  This was Park Taegun, S-rank, combat-trained, known for cutting down monsters with clinical efficiency. Rumor had it he never failed a mission.

  He didn’t speak. He didn’t smile.

  He just walked.

  The silence he left behind was stifling.

  Then came Seo MinHyun.

  He emerged like a firework, even if he toned it down.

  His crimson blazer caught the light dramatically, matching the subtle gold thread running through his shirt.

  His usual cocky grin was missing, replaced with something tighter, more composed, like a showman stepping onto the main stage with the entire nation watching.

  Still, the aura around him was loud.

  Arrogant. Confidence. Charismatic.

  He ran a hand through his hair with flourish and adjusted his collar like cameras were already flashing.

  “He really does act like a prince,” someone whispered.

  “He’s the future heir of Flame Serpent Guild, after all,” another replied.

  He offered a sharp smile to the crowd, but no one dared respond.

  Then, the third.

  Mu Yichen.

  Even among the three, he was the calmest. The one whose presence seemed to still the very air around him.

  His silver-white hair was tied neatly, and his robes carried the insignia of the Shadow Guild in subtle embroidery.

  There was nothing flashy about his attire, but it was tailored to perfection, refined down to the last thread.

  He moved like water, graceful, quiet, deliberate.

  And the crowd responded like they always did when Mu Yichen appeared.

  With awe.

  Admiration bloomed even in the hearts of rival guild members. Because standing there was the only known SSS-rank hunter in the world. The man who could destroy a city or save one, and do both with the same polite smile.

  He bowed slightly to the people waiting, not too low, not too brief. Just enough to maintain that delicate balance of nobility and courtesy.

  Everyone knew he didn’t need to bow.

  And yet, he did.

  It only made him more untouchable.

  Then..

  The final moment arrived.

  The fourth car door remained shut for a long second.

  Mu Yichen, Park Taegun, and Seo MinHyun stood in place, glancing toward it at the same time.

  No words passed between them, but something unspoken lingered in the air, anticipation and something heavier, more uncertain.

  The door clicked.

  And slowly, it opened.

  The figure who stepped out was….

  Otherworldly.

  Dressed in all white. White shirt, white coat, white pants, white boots.

  The fabric shimmered faintly in the sun, not from luxury, but from enchantment. Not ostentatious. Not dramatic. Simply… unreal.

  His long black hair was tied up into a high ponytail, framing a pale face so sharp and beautiful it bordered on cruelty.

  His eyes, however, were lifeless, deep and distant, with the same detached stillness as frozen water under moonlight.

  He looked like someone who had once been human.

  And had forgotten how to pretend.

  More importantly, floating beside him,

  The holy sword.

  Its blade gleamed with light that was not of this world. It didn’t simply shine, it pulsed, like it was breathing.

  Like it was watching. Orbiting Lee Aseok in slow, deliberate movements, as if ready to draw blood if someone so much as thought the wrong thing.

  Gasps slipped out from the crowd. Audible. Awed. Unfiltered.

  Even among the elites, a few eyes widened.

  “That’s…”

  “That’s the chosen one?”

  “He doesn’t even look real…”

  He didn’t smile.

  Didn’t wave.

  Didn’t acknowledge anyone.