Chapter 100

Global magnates and heads of state bowed their heads to him. Though he held no official administrative title within the Association, it was an open secret that Rahul Singh was its de facto ruler.

Yet Rahul Singh shouldn’t have been able to foresee the apocalypse in my previous life, either.

Back then, he had been executed by the Association on the grounds that he had foreseen nothing of the cataclysm. How he could be standing before a Sigil in this life was incomprehensible. Thus far, everyone connected to the Sigils had either anticipated the apocalypse or actively courted the ruin they unleashed.

…Could he have foreseen the world’s destruction and feigned ignorance?

If so, why did he choose silence? Was it because extinction was inevitable, and he held his tongue to prevent mass panic? But he could have shared the truth with the top-tier hunters. He wouldn’t have had to die at the execution block.

“Locating Yuk Do-hwan will have to be our first priority,” Hae-gun said, breaking through Eui-rim’s thoughts. “His trail went cold the moment news broke that he had left the country.”

“Will we be able to find him?” Eui-rim asked.

“Well. I’ll make the attempt, but if he’s tucked away with the Foreseer, approaching him might be impossible.”

“Because of his security?”

“He’s basically a living god to them,” Hae-gun scoffed. “Everyone around that bastard is a foresight fanatic. The Guardians, in particular, are religious zealots.”

Just hearing about it gives me chills. If possible, I’d rather never cross paths with them.

Yet now that Rahul Singh had appeared in the foresight, Eui-rim could not look away. Given their intent to torch the Abyssal Origin Cave barricades, a collision was inevitable.

“I’ve never heard of Yuk Do-hwan being connected to the Foreseer. Then again, Moonseong is heavy on psychic types, so there could have been ties… Hm? What is it?”

As Hae-gun subtly began to rise, Eui-rim tightened his grip on his hand, catching him. Hae-gun sank back down, meeting him with a puzzled gaze. Eui-rim hesitated, throat tight, before parting his lips.

“I’m… not finished yet.”

“There was more in the vision?” Hae-gun asked softly.

“Yes.”

“What did you see?”

The instant the question was voiced, Eui-rim’s mouth parched dry. Swallowing against the knot in his throat, he retraced the horrifying imagery.

Seo Hae-gun, broken and drenched in blood, slumped against the colossal hourglass amidst the howling whiteout.

“I saw the interior of the Tower of Time,” Eui-rim whispered.

“The raid itself?”

“No. It wasn’t the battle. Just…”

I only saw you soaked in blood.

With lips that barely moved, Eui-rim stammered out what he had witnessed. Yet all that returned was a faint, dismissive chuckle. How on earth had Hae-gun interpreted it? Hae-gun leaned back languidly, speaking as if it were nothing.

“Guess I really will have to pack plenty of potions.”

“Is that all you have to say?” Eui-rim stared in disbelief.

“Is there something else?” Hae-gun asked.

“The others weren’t anywhere to be seen, and you were critically wounded… That’s your only reaction?”

“You said I was breathing,” Hae-gun countered calmly. “If I was breathing, I wasn’t dead, so there’s no reason to panic already. As long as you’re unharmed, that’s what matters. You’re only C-rank—you can’t even take high-grade potions without serious strain.”

That aloof indifference, speaking as though his own life were someone else’s trivial concern, drained the strength right out of Eui-rim. Not fearing severe injury in the slightest—was this arrogance born of peerless strength? Or was he simply wired without regard for his own survival?

Eui-rim didn’t know. In truth, the reason hardly mattered. He simply never wanted to see Seo Hae-gun covered in blood again. The mere image of the Guild Master slumped against stone, looking as though he were slipping away, made Eui-rim’s stomach turn.

…Then in the end, I have to figure it out myself. I’ll have to find a way to keep him alive, utilizing every skill and scrap of knowledge at my disposal.

“Actually, I find myself far more curious about you,” Hae-gun noted.

“Pardon?”

As Eui-rim swallowed down his frustration, Seo Hae-gun tilted his head slightly, studying him with keen curiosity.

“How were you so certain it was the Tower of Time the moment you saw it? You said it was just a snowy expanse with an hourglass.”

“…Because I already knew.”

“You knew?” Hae-gun repeated, arching an eyebrow.

When Eui-rim offered a quiet nod, Seo Hae-gun’s eyes widened. Leaning back against the sofa, Hae-gun brooded for a long moment before muttering in genuine bemusement.

“I assumed an item checklist or boss weaknesses would be the extent of it.”

What is he even talking about? Don’t tell me this is about my intel from the start?

“I told you from the very beginning,” Eui-rim said defensively. “I told you I had information to clear the raid.”

“Mmh… That’s true, but…” Hae-gun offered a sheepish smile. “Honestly speaking, I didn’t expect much. I had no idea you would know the interior in such vivid detail.”

“Then why did you recruit me back then?”

Wasn’t he swayed by my promise to help him secure his exclusive weapon?

“Because I figured Rewinding Hand would be exceptionally useful,” Hae-gun admitted.

“…”

Ah. So that was it. Hearing the honest answer, his behavior back then finally made complete sense.

In other words, Seo Hae-gun’s initial interest hadn’t been about the raid intel at all, but because he coveted Eui-rim’s unique aptitude as a supporter. Since conquering a high-difficulty dungeon required an extraordinary supporter anyway, he had simply contracted him to kill two birds with one stone.

No wonder he was a beat late in asking for my name. He hadn’t believed my raid intel in the first place.

How hollow. To think that the secret intel I considered my absolute trump card hadn’t moved him at all—and what actually swayed him was an ability unlocked purely by chance.

Just imagining what would have happened if that skill error hadn’t resolved in that moment made Eui-rim dizzy. Would he have ended up with a fractured spine like Ahn Moonhyuk? It certainly wouldn’t have ended with a single punch to the solar plexus.

“What are you thinking about so deeply?” Hae-gun asked.

Turning his head, Eui-rim saw Seo Hae-gun resting his chin on his propped hand, watching him intently. Eui-rim let out a long sigh.

“I was thinking how fortunate it was that Rewinding Hand unlocked in the nick of time. If it hadn’t, I probably would’ve been eaten by monsters and ended up a wandering ghost.”

“That’s absurd. What do you take me for?” Hae-gun feigned offense.

“You had no intention of saving me back then,” Eui-rim retorted. “You just stood there with your arms crossed.”

“Why say something so hurtful? I only wanted to see what you could do. You were standing there so composed amidst the horde that I grew curious about you.”

If he’d stayed curious a second longer, I would have ended up in a monster’s belly. What more was there to be curious about when he’d already appraised me as a D-rank? Honestly.

“By the way, were you still holding a grudge over that? I thought I treated you exceptionally well since then. It’s a bit disappointing to hear you’re still resentful.”

As Hae-gun leaned against the sofa, his rumpled bathrobe fell open even wider. Flustered, Eui-rim quickly reached out to pull the lapels shut. “I’d never been hit by anyone in my entire life. I intend to remember that punch until the day I die.”

“Ah. Was it that unforgettable?” Hae-gun’s eyes crinkled with amusement.

“…Pardon?”

He sounded strangely amused just now. Was it my imagination?

“Can’t be helped, then. They say a first experience leaves a lifelong impression, so I’ll accept it humbly. Since you say you’ll remember it until you die, I could hardly dare let our contract end after a mere month.”

Watching him speak as though taking on some grand, romantic burden was so absurd it completely drained Eui-rim’s indignation.

Let’s just drop it. He’s clearly teasing me again, and reacting only means losing.

“There’s something else I need to ask,” Eui-rim said, hastily changing the subject.

“Go ahead.”

As Eui-rim fanned his flushed face with one hand, Seo Hae-gun reached over and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind Eui-rim’s ear. With a faint smile lingering on his lips, Hae-gun asked quietly.

“Which floor was that snowy expanse you saw?”

“In the Tower of Time?”

“Yes.”

There was no need to search his memories. A zone where endless snow fell upon an hourglass of titan proportions—there was only one place in existence.

“The top floor.”

“…”

“The Core Room, at the very summit of the Tower of Time.”

Eui-rim rubbed where Hae-gun’s fingers had brushed against his temple, the tickling warmth pooling straight into his earlobes. Fidgeting with his collar, Eui-rim pressed on, “I’ll brief the team during the strategy meeting, but… what guards the Core Room are Snow Mountain Spiders. They strike soundlessly through the blinding whiteout to drag their prey into the ice.”

“…”

“And crucially, the venom isn’t injected by the spiders—it’s carried in the falling snow itself. Hunters without innate poison immunity must equip specialized detoxification items. Wearing impermeable outer gear is non-negotiable.”

No further questions followed, but the silent contemplation in Hae-gun’s eyes was unmistakable. He had to be burning with questions. At this point in time, no guild on earth had ever set foot on the summit of the Tower of Time.