The figure smiled, a glint of curiosity in its eyes, as it emerged from the shadows, gliding effortlessly through the forest like a wisp of smoke. It seemed to defy gravity, walking on air as if the sky were just a mere ground for him.
The tattered cloak it wore swirled around it like tendrils of mist, allowing it to meld seamlessly with the surrounding trees, creating an almost ghostly apparition.
Han Ji-Hoon, the elusive space mage of the Hunter's Association, observed the scene with a keen gaze. His eyes, sharp and calculating, were fixated on Lee Joo-Hee as she moved away with her team, blissfully unaware of the presence that lingered nearby.
"The cloak of the wandering spirit truly works wonders," he mused, his voice a whisper carried by the wind. "Its hideous appearance can truly mask its true power."
He studied Joo-Hee with keen interest, muttering to himself. "That healer. Is she really a false ranker? I'm having my doubts right now. She moves with the clumsiness of a novice, yet Kang Ho claims she's been a B-rank for a year. There's something off about her, something strange..." His brow furrowed, as a glimmer of intrigue flashed across his face.
He stroked his chin thoughtfully, contemplating the implications of Joo-Hee's talents. "What's more surprising is her remarkable precision and skill in barrier magic. It's almost as if she's far more gifted than most lower-ranked mages." His mind raced with countless possibilities as he marked Lee Joo-Hee as a potential threat.
"I should return to the Association for now and investigate her further," he concluded, determination sharpening his gaze as the silhouette of Jake's team is no longer to be seen.
With a wave of his hand, he conjured a rift in the air above the treetops. This was no ordinary portal; unlike the transport gates used for mass transportation, this rift was a tear in the fabric of space itself—stable yet inherently unstable, pulsing with a strange energy.
"I will be watching you, Joo-Hee.", he murmured, his voice fading into the gap of time and space. He stepped into the rift, and in an instant, he was gone, leaving no trace of his presence behind as he exited the dungeon, his thoughts consumed with plans for the future.
As Han Ji-Hoon stepped out of the rift, he found himself just outside the entrance of the dungeon, the familiar terrain coming into view.
The moment he materialized, he caught sight of Kang Ho, who stood nearby, clearly startled by Ji-Hoon's sudden appearance. The lingering aura of the Cloak of the Wandering Spirit still enveloped Ji-Hoon, rendering his presence almost ethereal and deceptive.
"I'll be back in a while," Ji-Hoon stated curtly, brushing past Kang Ho with purpose.
Kang Ho frowned, crossing his arms as he said, "Don't tell me you're still doubting that healer. I already told you she's not a false ranker. She even barely survived that double dungeon accident a while back."
At the mention of the double dungeon accident, Ji-Hoon halted, turning back with a raised eyebrow. "You mean that ridiculous rumor?" he asked, skepticism threading through his tone. "You must be growing old, Kang Ho. Even I, a space mage, haven't seen such a phenomenon, and you're saying that girl experienced it? Given her skills, she would have died."
Kang Ho's expression shifted from surprise to frustration. "That's why I'm telling you, she's as normal as the other hunters out there. I even trained her to use the sword, she's not a threat. You're just overthinking it."
Ji-Hoon was no longer listening to Kang Ho, his mind shifted at the mention of the absurd phenomenon. The double dungeon incident had always been shrouded in mystery, a dark cloud of speculation that the Association had tried to distance itself from.
He had thought it was just a rumor, an urban legend whispered among hunters who loved to exaggerate tales of terror. But the fact that Joo-Hee had survived this so-called accident ignited a flicker of intrigue in him.
Survivors of that day were said to be a small fraction, and if Joo-Hee was indeed one of them, it complicated matters significantly.
"Interesting," Ji-Hoon mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I've never been particularly interested in that accident, considering it merely a fabrication. But seeing that she survived… that healer must have known something"
Without another word, he turned to leave, his thoughts now a tangled web of curiosity and caution. "I'm leaving now. Just call me when the folks are done."
As Ji-Hoon walked away, he waved his hand, creating a rift that transported him directly to the Hunter's Association. He emerged in the Data Archive Room located in the basement, where the atmosphere was tense, busy, and palpable.
A few personnel jumped, instinctively reaching for weapons or conjuring spells at the sudden appearance of someone so powerful. However, as recognition dawned upon them, relief washed over the room, and they greeted him with respectful bows.
One of the moderators stepped forward, a mixture of awe and concern in his eyes. "Sir Han... what brings you here? We didn't receive any intel that you would be coming. If we had, we could have prepared something for you."
Ji-Hoon regarded the male moderator with an impatient gaze. "Enough with that. Why else would I be here?" His tone was sharp, but it softened slightly as he added, "For information, of course. Now, give me a pen and paper."
The moderator, a bit flustered, quickly handed over the requested items. Ji-Hoon took a moment to gather his thoughts, then began writing down Lee Joo-Hee's name. "Give me all information about this hunter, okay?," he instructed, his voice steady and commanding.
He then added with a charming smile, "She's quite pretty, you see. I quite like her."
The moderator's eyebrows shot up in surprise, fully aware that Han Ji-Hoon's claim was nothing more than a lie. Everyone within the Association knew how eccentric the man could be, and his reputation as the "Astral Heretic" only added to that mystique. "But, sir—" he began, trying to interject, unsure how far to press the matter.
Ji-Hoon's gaze sharpened, cutting him off with an unnerving smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "No buts," he said softly, the warmth in his voice vanishing. "I'm in a good mood right now, so let's keep it that way, shall we? Just tell them I'm the one who requested this information."
There was a moment of silence as the moderator processed Ji-Hoon's request, the weight of his authority settling heavily in the air. Reluctantly, he nodded, sensing the urgency behind Ji-Hoon's words. "Understood, sir. I'll have the information compiled immediately."
The moderator then hurriedly rushed to the main computer, his hands shaking as he opened his authority account. His fingers flew over the keyboard, typing with meticulous care as anxiety gnawed at him. Inside, he was silently screaming for help, but no one could hear the storm brewing in his mind. He typed in Lee Joo-Hee's name, confident that the information would come up—until something appeared on the screen that made his blood run cold.
Lee Joo-Hee's account could not be accessed.
His heart dropped into his stomach. He blinked several times, wondering if he'd made a mistake. He tried again, entering the name carefully, but the same result flashed back at him: Access Denied: Insufficient Authority.
A chill ran down his spine. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't trying to access some high-level classified information—just a hunter's basic file. How could it be restricted? He swallowed hard, knowing that this might be his last day on earth if Han Ji-Hoon found out.
His thoughts spiraled as he stared helplessly at the screen. What do I do? The sound of Ji-Hoon flipping through papers in the background only made his dread worse.
The moderator knew better. Ji-Hoon didn't tolerate delays, and the thought of informing him about the block made his hands tremble even more.
His fingers faltered for a second, and he wiped the sweat from his brow, willing himself to calm down. He tried one last command, inputting a bypass code reserved for emergencies. The screen blinked, then went blank for a moment before a new message appeared:
"This file is under restricted access by order of the South Korean Hunter's Association: Unauthorized access is prohibited."
The moderator felt his heart sink. This wasn't just restricted—it was locked down by the Association itself. I'm dead. Why did I even tried to do that? He couldn't break through without raising alarms.
Just when he thought his head might actually roll for this blunder, a sigh of relief washed over him as the Chief Inspector of the Hunter's Association, Woo Jin-Chul, entered the room.
The moderator thought as see almost cried his way out, Thank the heavens! Sir, you're my saving grace. I can live another day. His imposing figure commanded immediate respect, and the other personnel instantly stiffened at his presence.
Han Ji-Hoon's smile broadened, unperturbed by Woo Jin-Chul's sudden arrival. "Chief Inspector, what a pleasure! It seems my visit has stirred up quite the commotion," he said, feigning innocence as he leaned against the desk.
Woo Jin-Chul's brows furrowed as he assessed the situation. "I see you've been attempting to access restricted information," he stated, his tone steady yet stern. He glanced at the trembling moderator, who looked like he might faint from the tension. "What do you think you're doing right now?"
Ji-Hoon shrugged nonchalantly, his expression shifting to one of genuine curiosity. "Just a bit of interest, really. I just witnessed something... uhm... fun, I guess. So, tell me, why is her file locked away like some kind of treasure?"
Woo Jin-Chul's demeanor remained firm as he stepped closer, his presence radiating authority. "That file is restricted for a reason, Ji-Hoon. You don't need to concern yourself with matters beyond your work."
Ji-Hoon tilted his head, feigning disappointment. "Come now, Chief Inspector. You know me—I can't resist a good mystery. What makes her so special that even I can't get a peek? or should I say them?"
The Chief Inspector immediately looks at him, his eyes narrowing. "This isn't a game, Ji-Hoon. Leave it alone, or you'll find yourself facing consequences far beyond your imagination."
Ji-Hoon's smile wavered just slightly but quickly returned, his intrigue ignited. "Consider me warned, Jin-Chul, but you know I don't back down easily."
Woo Jin-Chul's gaze hardened as he turned his attention back to the flustered moderator, who was desperately trying to compose himself. "Ensure this matter is handled properly," he instructed before leaving, but Ji-Hoon lingered, determination sparking in his eyes.