Lee Do-han

“What happens to a Guide who fails to pay off their debt?”

“What happens?”

Kim Byeong-ho sauntered over, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he glared down at Cheong-hyun with a crooked, mocking tilt of his head.

“What do you think happens? Do you think we run a charity for bastards who can’t pay us back? If someone lacks the ability to pay, or simply lacks the desire, we make sure they find the motivation. It’s quite simple, really. No matter how stubborn they act, those uncooperative pieces of shit always throw a fit the moment you lay a finger on their family. We drag a family member in and force them to clear the ledger instead, and suddenly, the Guide loses their damn mind and works harder than anyone else. If you lack capability, that’s how you pay. We give you plenty of opportunities before it ever reaches that point, don’t we? We protect your body, we protect your mind, we pamper and coddle you. Isn’t that right?”

To these men, a Guide was merely a financial lifeline, viewed as lower than common livestock. Any question regarding what twisted right allowed them to oppress Guides to this extreme degree had long since withered away during Cheong-hyun’s fleeting childhood.

The underlying justification no longer mattered. These monsters must never rest in peace even in death, nor should they ever draw a comfortable breath while they still lived.

“Now that you understand, shut your goddamn mouth, go inside, and keep your eyes glued to whatever Seo Won-woo does. Just keep in mind that I won’t overlook your insolent behavior a third time. What, got a problem with that? This is your job. This is the only way you pieces of shit get to survive and feed yourselves.”

His greasy eyes glared intensely at Cheong-hyun before curling into a grotesque grin. The words carried the weight of a absolute corporate sentence.

And as expected, his dark intuition proved entirely accurate.

“Get ready. It’s time to entertain a VIP client. We’re entirely out of time, so I’ll explain the details on the way.”

The space he was dragged into, entirely against his will, was located on a floor scraping the height of nearly forty stories. Considering the Director’s executive penthouse sat on the fiftieth floor, this was undoubtedly a highly specialized wing reserved exclusively for elite VIPs.

The moment they stepped out of the elevator, the plush crimson carpet underfoot exuded a level of luxury that made the lower floors look entirely pedestrian. Not a single speck of dust marred the long hallway, and a faint, elegant classical melody drifted softly through the air.

The serene corridor was completely devoid of human presence. One entire side of the hallway was constructed out of floor-to-ceiling reinforced glass, offering a dizzying, sweeping view of the sprawling cityscape far below.

Cheong-hyun kept his eyes fixed beyond that reinforced glass wall as he silently trailed behind Kim Byeong-ho and Seo Won-woo.

“According to the original schedule, the detoxification was supposed to take place right after the meeting the day before yesterday. But a crisis exploded nearby, so it got pushed to today. Won-woo, make sure you pay extra close attention. Keep in mind that he experienced a severe seizure overnight, so there’s a medical log of heavy sedative administration.”

“S-Sedative administration makes the detoxification process heavily resistant… it won’t take well….”

“What the hell do you expect me to do if they lack the patience and pump themselves full of narcotics before showing up? They throw a goddamn fit even when we warn them, so do I look like I have a choice? And Lee Cheong-hyun, the absolute second you step through those doors, you bend at the waist and apologize. The clients sitting inside that VIP suite are the exact people who lost a massive block of time because of the stunt you pulled the day before yesterday, so keep your f*cking mouth shut and crawl.”

“L-Lower your voice, Manager. You mustn’t raise your voice to a cr-crying shout in this wing.”

“The hell I can’t, f*ck.”

“If you raise your voice, we’ll get sc-scolded. I will take excellent care of Cheong-hyun. It’s not as if this is my first or s-second time taking the trainees under my wing for education….”

This was a highly restricted zone where even the slighest clip of a footstep was entirely swallowed by the dense carpet—a place where raising one’s voice was strictly forbidden. It was a fiercely tightly guarded sanctuary frequented exclusively by the supreme chairmen of massive conglomerates, the children of elite political and financial dynasties, high-ranking military commanders, and the supreme leadership of Mutant Guilds who held the nation’s survival in their palms.

Kim Byeong-ho pinched the bridge of his nose, spitting out a quiet curse.

“Fine, I get it…. Sigh, just make sure you keep a hawk’s eye on Lee Cheong-hyun so he doesn’t spark another disaster. I already requested official clearance for an observer, so they should be willing to overlook that much. From what I’ve heard, the client is barely in his right mind at the moment anyway.”

“B-But if the Guild Leader explicitly refuses….”

“Why the hell would a bastard who crawled all the way here with a body full of narcotics just to chase a detoxification that doesn’t even work dare to refuse? He should be profoundly grateful we’re assigning two Guides to his suite. Refuse? My ass, he—”

Seo Won-woo, pale as a ghost, frantically shook his head and waved his hands, freezing mid-motion the moment his eyes drifted back to Cheong-hyun. Cheong-hyun had ground to a halt, staring quietly out through the glass facade. The staggering architectural evolution of a full decade accumulated within his deep, black pupils.

The slow, methodical blink of his long eyelashes was perfectly poised, and every single shift of his physical vessel was devoid of unnecessary motion. Like a deeply ingrained habit, Cheong-hyun moved with the minimal exertion of a lifeless statue, maintaining a completely blank expression. He resembled a highly trained military hound.

Even though his profile projected a terrifyingly intense aura.

“We’re completely out of time, so pick up the goddamn pace.”

Flipping through his ledger, Kim Byeong-ho checked his watch and aggressively quickened his stride. Marching down the endless corridor, they finally ground to a halt before a massive set of double doors heavily embossed with intricate, elegant patterns. Standing directly outside the entrance, a subordinate Guide assigned to assist Seo Won-woo was already waiting.

Kim Byeong-ho straightened his suit jacket before delivering a polite knock against the wood. He waited through a long stretch of absolute silence before twisting the handle and easing the door open. Slipping through the soundless gap, Seo Won-woo stepped inside first, his shoulders tightly hunched with intense anxiety. The subordinate Guide and Cheong-hyun followed closely behind, lightly nudged forward into the suite.

The heavy doors glided shut without a single whisper the moment they crossed the threshold. Only the three Guides entered the space. Or rather, could Cheong-hyun even be classified as a Guide at this point?

The vast suite was shrouded in a heavy twilight, courtesy of thick blackout curtains drawn halfway across the windows. The atmosphere closely resembled the dim, eerie lighting of a breaking dawn. Cheong-hyun raised his chin, tracking Seo Won-woo’s movements. The stagnant, oppressive air inside the room made his head throb with a splitting ache. Suddenly, a deeply familiar scent of heavy narcotics drifted past the tip of his nose.

It was identical to the acrid, biting stench of the specialized cigarettes Ki Soo-hyuk frequently smoked. Scanning the dim room, Cheong-hyun’s gaze locked onto something hiding in the furthest corner of the suite. Deep within the shadows, a dense cloud of smoke drifted lazily through the air, undulating like a coiled serpent. Narrowing his eyes, he pierced through the dark veil. And there, deep within the gloom, he locked eyes with a pair of savage, predatory pupils wrapped in a suffocating layer of pure, instinctive bloodlust.

“Y-You’ve been waiting for a long time. I-I am profoundly sorry. A sudden crisis occurred on our way here, so….”

The absolute second he crossed the threshold, Seo Won-woo offered an obsequious bow, frantically manufacturing an excuse toward the shadows. Looming over his submissively bent shoulders sat a man buried deep within the cushions of a grand armchair. The thick, rolling smoke exhaled from a cigarette resting between his lips.

“Well, fine… I crawled all the way to this facility to chase a detoxification that doesn’t even f*cking work to begin with, so I suppose waiting a little bit is nothing…”

Despite his long, drawn-out cadence, a razor-sharp, lethal energy radiated from his physical form. Seo Won-woo dropped his gaze entirely, bending his waist even lower. He was fully aware that the crude conversation echoing in the hallway had reached the man’s ears. This client possessed extraordinarily sharp hearing. He was a man whose physical senses were permanently heightened to a torturous degree, forced to exist every single second of his life within an agonizing reality that felt like a blade scraping against his nerves.

Under normal circumstances, he wasn’t a man who projected such a suffocating, lethal atmosphere. However, on the exact day he was scheduled to receive his treatment, a catastrophic gate crisis had exploded on his front lines, and by the time he managed to clear the battlefield and arrive at the Center today, more than twenty days had passed since his last detoxification session.

It was mathematically impossible for his nerves not to be frayed to the absolute edge. Holding the cigarette between his fingers, the man habitually massaged his temple.

“But… while I can somehow bring myself to overlook this wretched classical music blasting through the walls, I don’t recall paying a premium to crawl up here just to listen to Manager Kim barking like a stray dog. My head already feels like it’s splitting wide open… it’s incredibly f*cking unpleasant.”

“I-I am deeply sorry, sir. That was….”

“There’s absolutely zero need for you to apologize, Seo Won-woo-ssi.”

The man took a deep, aggressive drag that hollowed out his cheeks before releasing a long, heavy cloud of smoke. It was an exhale laden with immense physical agony. The knuckles of Seo Won-woo and the subordinate Guide behind him instantly tightened, the bones protruding sharply against their skin. Clutching their hands until their fingertips turned bone-white, they appeared deeply accustomed to this suffocating, terrifying tension.

While he wasn’t a man who actively directed physical violence toward Guides, he was equally a man who never extended a single shred of warmth. He was a tycoon who anchored the structural foundations of South Korea’s economy, a supreme warlord of the Hunter industry whose corporate leverage had grown far too colossal for the current administration to even dream of regulating.

The forces dictating the survival or extinction of the citizenry were no longer confined to traditional fields like manufacturing, global trade, or maritime shipping. Ever since the first catastrophic meteors fractured the atmosphere and Gates began violently tearing open across the globe, national security had become directly synonymous with military firepower, and private armed battalions had become the absolute metric of a nation’s wealth and sovereignty.

Mutant Hunters represented a private army that could be deployed instantly without navigating military bureaucracy or government intervention, and the administration eagerly exploited that loophole. The government’s absolute refusal to regulate the private Mutant Guilds that began sprouting like wildfire across the nation was driven entirely by this geopolitical reality.

Rising from that chaotic era were the top ten Guilds that effectively dictated the fate of South Korea, and sitting comfortably within the top three titans of that industry was none other than the ‘Ewha Guild.’ Boasting a private army of hundreds of elite Mutants, their corporate footprint had ballooned far past the point of state intervention, transforming the organization into a foundational pillar of the nation’s economy.

And the Guild Leader of that monstrous entity was the exact man sitting lazily within the dim shadows of the armchair. A registered SS-Rank Mutant Hunter: Lee Do-han.

He was the exact same man Cheong-hyun had violently collided with in the grand lobby just a few days prior, during his desperate attempt to break free from the Center.

Within the Hunter industry, Ewha Guild’s Lee Do-han was a legendary figure whose name was known by every citizen. Much like Ki Soo-hyuk, he was a Hunter who had undergone permanent cellular mutation during a historic ‘Red Moon’ catastrophe, and he was infamous for being one of the few elite Mutants whose system completely resisted a Guide’s detoxification.

However, unlike Ki Soo-hyuk’s highly publicized file, not a single soul in the country knew the exact nature of his specific Mutant DNA strain. This was due to the fact that the ‘Red Moon’ event Lee Do-han had survived didn’t unleash a single species of monster. According to the drone footage captured during the breach, over twenty entirely distinct species of catastrophic beasts had poured through the rift simultaneously. It was a ‘Red Moon’ that had unleashed the highest volume of diverse monster variants in human history—all erupting from a single, massive Gate.

Because he commanded the single most crucial corporate shield anchoring national security, even a tyrant like Ki Soo-hyuk acted like a helpless mouse before a cat in Lee Do-han’s presence, completely stripped of his usual arrogance. Lee Do-han’s corporate roots cut far too deep into the fabric of the nation, and his slightest whim could effortlessly dictate the absolute survival of the industry.

For a man of his stature to constantly pour astronomical sums into the facility under the guise of ‘Center sponsorships’ was the greatest possible blessing for Ki Soo-hyuk. Yet, despite transferring massive amounts of capital into their accounts, Lee Do-han would only step foot inside this facility when his physical vessel had been pushed to its absolute, excruciating limit.