A Blessing Written in Numbers

Before I could snap back in anger, the loan shark suddenly shouted as if he’d had enough.

“If a job like that existed, don’t you think I’d be doing it myself?!”

“Ah!”

As if unable to contain his temper, he smacked me on the head.

It wasn’t the kind of violence meant to subdue me like before, so it didn’t hurt much.

As I rubbed my forehead, the loan shark let out a long sigh.

“Ha… what a life.”

“…….”

“…Fine. Let’s hear it. What exactly are the conditions for this job you want?”

His expression became strangely calm, as if he was prepared to accept whatever nonsense I might say.

Judging by his reaction, the kind of job I wanted probably didn’t exist—but I figured I had nothing to lose.

“First of all… I’d like flexible working hours.”

“In what sense? Be specific.”

“Well… free enough that when Do Jiwan rests, I can rest too, and when he goes to work, I can go to work as well.”

“…Why do you need to rest when that man rests?”

The loan shark looked at me with open suspicion.

I answered calmly.

“Because I need to monitor Do Jiwan.”

“…What?”

Seeing he didn’t understand, I explained—though I couldn’t mention the Demon King in case someone overheard.

“I want to know who Do Jiwan meets. So when he rests, I need to rest too and watch him.”

His eyes trembled.

His face collapsed into something that looked as though he’d just seen a monster.

Not understanding his reaction, I tilted my head, and he muttered.

“This is… a complete lunatic.”

As I’ve said before, I’m not crazy.

I simply have a noble mission.

The loan shark, unaware of that, took a cautious step back.

“You bastard… Do you even know what stalking is?”

“Yes.”

“…You know that it’s a crime?”

“Yes.”

It might resemble my plan in many ways, but what I’m doing isn’t a crime.

It’s for the peace of the world.

After hearing my calm answers, pity filled his face—though not for me.

Whether Do Jiwan deserved that pity or not didn’t matter to my purpose, so I ignored it.

“You’re really insane. Ha….”

Shaking his head, he said he’d look around for something since I owed him money anyway, but told me not to expect much.

Then he left.

I didn’t plan on relying solely on him, so I decided to seek my own solution.

And that solution was prayer.

‘Oh God.’

Back in my tiny rented room, I lit a candle and prayed.

Though the God who had regressed and vanished was gone, His will still remained.

Just as I had done in the Heavenly Realm, I focused on Him.

‘Grant me the strength to save the world.’

After praying for the obstacles blocking my mission to be removed, I lay down to sleep.

That night, in my dream, I picked up six orbs filled with divine power.

Strangely, numbers were written on their surfaces.

When I touched them, the orbs flickered—growing bright slowly, then dimming again.

Watching their gentle pulse made my heart feel calm.

As I naturally embraced the orbs, a gentle voice—whether a hallucination or God’s lingering will—spoke to me.

“May countless blessings lie ahead of you.”

Then light filled my vision, and I awoke.

Even in my groggy state, the numbers on the orbs were etched clearly in my mind.

I had a rough idea of what the dream meant.

After splashing water on my face, I ran outside.

The moment I left my room, I dashed to the nearby convenience store and wrote down the numbers lingering in my head, buying a lottery ticket.

The orbs and numbers had been so obvious that recalling them was easy.

Luckily, it was Friday, and the drawing was the next day, so I wouldn’t have to wait long.

Clutching the receipt like a treasure, time passed until the drawing.

The result was exactly as I expected.

After finishing the first raid of the newly secured dungeon, Jiwan was driving home.

He stayed alert while driving, but unlike last time, there were no animals watching him.

Soon, he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

‘So it really was just coincidence.’

The strange behavior of animals and Jiho’s surveillance had overlapped, making him overly sensitive.

At least the animal issue seemed resolved—but he wasn’t sure about Jiho.

He felt slightly tense.

Surely he wouldn’t be waiting again?

Arriving at the parking lot in front of his apartment, he saw no one.

He told himself he knew that would be the case, yet felt oddly deflated.

The moment he realized that disappointment, his face hardened.

He had said he would distance himself, yet he was thinking of Jiho again.

‘Damn it….’

Since awakening his power, Jiwan had never failed to achieve what he set out to do.

He had founded the Domun Guild and made it the strongest guild in Korea.

When it was first established, the Domun Group had held more power—but now the situation had reversed.

If the Domun Guild controlled dungeon byproduct distribution, the Domun Group would have no choice but to tread carefully.

Thanks to that, his father’s position within the group had solidified.

Once criticized by the chairman grandfather because of Jiwan’s illegitimate status, his father had nearly been cast aside—divorcing even his legal wife.

But with Jiwan’s achievements bringing immense profit, his father’s standing rose dramatically.

Unless something extraordinary happened, Jiwan’s father would succeed the chairman.

In short, Jiwan had turned a sidelined heir into the likely next chairman.

There was virtually nothing that didn’t go his way.

‘He’s… irritating.’

Jiwan found Jiho irritating.

With his power, removing Jiho would be easy—yet he didn’t want to do that.

He didn’t understand what he truly wanted.

Did he really want to push Shin Jiho away… or not?

With a complicated heart, he returned home.

After showering and tending to personal matters, he stepped onto the balcony to dry his hair—and once again saw a familiar figure below.

“…Shin Jiho.”

Truly persistent.

Jiwan almost called security to chase him away, but changed his mind.

He didn’t want Shin Jiho to know that he cared.

Ignoring Jiho’s presence below, Jiwan ate dinner and turned on the news.

Then suddenly, rain began to fall.

Normally he wouldn’t have cared—but the moment he registered the rain, someone came to mind.

Worry for Jiho rose unbidden, and Jiwan quickly shook his head.

‘What does it matter to me if he gets rained on?’

If it rained, surely he’d go home.

He wouldn’t stupidly stand in it.

Thinking that, Jiwan turned his eyes back to the news.

But no matter how earnestly the anchor spoke, not a single word registered.

‘It’s autumn rain… it must be cold.’

His body was already weak—no matter how much he fed him, the malnourishment never seemed to improve.

What if he collapsed?

Anxiety kept rising.

Finally, Jiwan stood.

He told himself Jiho wouldn’t be there—surely not.

Stepping onto the balcony, he looked down.

The heavy autumn rain blurred his vision.

Just as he turned away, assuming Jiho had left, he caught sight of a faint silhouette in a familiar spot.

‘No way….’

Maybe it wasn’t a person.

Maybe someone had left something there.

He sat back down, but the image wouldn’t leave his mind.

‘No one would be that stupid in this rain.’

He tried to convince himself, but the questions kept echoing.

‘What if that really is Shin Jiho?’

‘What if he couldn’t move?’

‘For example… if he collapsed?’

Thud.

Jiwan clearly heard it—

the sound of his heart dropping to the floor.

Before he knew it, he was on the first floor with an umbrella in hand.

His tingling bare feet told him he had flown down the stairs.

Suppressing his anxiety, he stepped outside.

The figure was clearer now than from above.

Despite the relentless rain, it hadn’t moved at all.

The question rang again in his mind.

‘Did he really collapse?’

Forgetting even to open his umbrella, Jiwan approached.

And as he drew closer, bewilderment spread across his stiffened face.