Chapter 177: Grow and Eat (1)

I picked up the call.

Before I could even say anything, a familiar voice came through the receiver — smooth pronunciation, the kind of voice that always carried effortless composure.

[Good work on the recapture.]

Why did he sound so cheerful?

[Did you give your kin a proper funeral?]

For a moment, I nearly crushed my phone. The only reason I didn’t was because I knew the one Kudo bought me had cost a fortune.

I clenched my teeth, forced a smile, and lowered my head.

Behind an empty building.

After collecting myself, I looked up again.

“You must know we cremated him before I was discharged.”

Only part of the body was handed over to the lab.

The rest, I burned completely. Yun would’ve wanted that corpse. That was precisely why I sent Sion’s body to the crematorium. The employee handed me a small porcelain jar containing his ashes.

I buried it behind my cabin, under Newton’s apple tree.

Sion wouldn’t have wanted to sit in a killer’s house, sealed inside a jar.

A neat chuckle came from the other end of the line.

I frowned and waited in silence until it faded.

[Good work. It seems your skill has come back quite a bit.]

“Just talk about the game.”

I didn’t bother hiding my irritation.

“That’s why you called, isn’t it? Don’t tell me you still haven’t found it.”

[As for the games, I’ve obtained every series except A.]

Of course, A was the key.

He must be bragging about locking it up in some high-security vault.

Naturally, this man knew that. If he wanted A, he could get it — I had no doubt. But, as expected, he never handed over anything that easily.

[There’s a party coming up soon.]

“Ah.”

Just the thought gave me a headache.

“Please don’t tell me to attend.”

[How else can I give you the game if you don’t come?]

“I’ll just come and pick it up myself.”

The Elder suddenly burst into laughter.

What the hell?

There was nothing funny about this. A chill of foreboding wrapped around me as I glared at my phone.

His laughter dragged on — far too long.

At last, Erich Erhart ended his delighted laughter.

[That wouldn’t be so bad. Care to come to my mansion?]

The unease wrapping around me turned to cold dread in an instant.

I shivered before answering.

“When’s the party?”

The Elder laughed again.

After stopping, he told me the date. As expected, only high-ranking figures would be attending. He gave me the schedule and dress code, then said to bring Yun along. Apparently, the entire Choi family had been invited too.

[You’d be lonely going alone, wouldn’t you?]

He added that Yehyeon had already declined to attend.

I didn’t even try to hide my sour expression as the call ended. At first, I’d been thrilled to escape video hell, but that thrill had long evaporated like a mirage.

I let out a heavy sigh and trudged back.

Already wondering how I’d convince Yun — who would definitely hate going.

***

“Go alone.”

“You said you care about me. And now you’re sending me into that madhouse by myself?”

“Act your age, old man.”

“I’ll transfer my division to you.”

When I pressed my hand to my chest and looked earnestly at him, my mentor finally lifted his head.

Round eyes fixed on me.

Deal sealed.

“So you’re only interested in my body, huh?”

“If you know, then keep watching the footage.”

Feigning offense, I slumped beside him. Yun didn’t even glance my way as he replied.

I chuckled faintly and obeyed. The video hell resumed. Searching for something — without even knowing what. The task of finding something that might not even be captured on tape began again. Still, at least there weren’t many videos left.

I bowed my head and silently watched.

But despite our effort, Yun and I found nothing.

“Their fighting forms are pathetic.”

Yun wore the look of a man whose eyes were rotting from witnessing rookie incompetence.

I kept my cheek pressed to the desk, unmoving for a long while.

Only when the threat of actually falling asleep set in did I lift my head.

“Sorry, sir, but could you check what the ‘K’ in From K stands for?”

“After we finish tissue sampling.”

Yun was nothing if not thorough.

“Come back later if you remember something else in the footage. For now, the Titan’s strategy takes priority.”

Right.

Because of Sequoia’s words, I was effectively grounded within the Core until we figured out what the Titan’s plan was.

Now that the target territory had been reclaimed, the Badgers’ top mission had reverted to rescuing civilians. Reclaiming and cultivating the restored land, predicting its economic, social, and cultural ripple effects, and merging two Cores into one — those weren’t the Badgers’ concern.

Our goal was to restore pre-war life.

Originally, Yehyeon had planned to send the TF team — including me — outside the Core to construct a Safe Point in Zone C.

But Sequoia’s words had changed everything.

We drove back to the research building in Yun’s car.

“I tried playing K all the way through before discharge, but I couldn’t find any Easter egg.”

Of course, I’d already searched online.

I’d even found spots that looked like they might trigger a hidden message.

It was in the final stage — behind the King’s throne, a blood-soaked brush lay on the ground. You could use it to write on the stone wall. The lines written in blood faded gradually.

I figured if I wrote the correct phrase, a message would appear.

The problem was, I had no idea what to write.

“I thought if we found out who made the game, maybe we’d get a clue.”

I muttered, and Yun silently nodded.

He seemed lost in his own thoughts. Talking to him in that state would get no answer.

So I fell silent too, sinking into my own thoughts.

Sunset light bled through the ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) car window. It was evening. My empty stomach protested for food. I found myself idly thinking I should order Lexic noodles.

Then, I remembered Shu.

“The Portal accident.”

At my sudden murmur, Yun glanced over.

I seized the chance.

“Do those happen often?”

“What brought that up?”

I briefly explained Shu’s visit.

Yun didn’t move until I finished. He watched me without expression, silent the whole time.

Only when the Black Badger headquarters came into view did he finally reply.

“The Diamond kid said that?”

“Yes.”

“Not a bad theory.”

What?

I blinked. Not a bad what?

A theory?

I had no idea what he’d just concluded from my short explanation. Shu hadn’t told me much beyond suggesting I look into the Portal accident.

It was something I’d shoved aside while buried in video work.

My confusion must have shown on my face.

Yun watched the car descend into the underground parking lot.

“That kid’s Portal compatibility is low.”

“Is that a problem? I was supposed to get tested for that once, but I didn’t.”

“Yeah. The lower it is, the lower your chance of exiting a Portal safely. You need at least 80 to guarantee safe passage. If it drops below 75, Portal use is banned. Diamond’s compatibility is only seventy-seven.”

“What?”

There’s such a thing?

My eyes widened.

While the car parked itself, a memory surfaced — the moment I looked up at my seniors, confused and lost, with all my memories gone.

The way they’d stared down at me, equally confused.

“Then shouldn’t she be banned from using Portals?”

Shu had been there then, too.

“She didn’t even score eighty.”

“If the Portal’s stable, the risk decreases. And honestly, she’s rarely deployed on missions requiring Portal travel. Yehyeon said she was still worth recruiting despite that.”

“Why is her compatibility so low?”

“She was just born that way.”

The car stopped.

Yun shut off the engine. I followed him out. The now-familiar route led to the elevator connected directly to the lab entrance.

Matching his steps, I followed the echo of our shoes in the parking lot.

“But what does that have to do with my weird appearance?”

“Portals are still largely uncharted territory, so I can’t say for sure.”

The elevator doors opened, and we stepped in side by side.

Yun flicked a glance at the CCTV camera in the corner, then added,

“Do what the kid said. Read up on Portal accidents.”

We entered the lab.

The scientists greeted me warmly. Heavy dark circles, messy hair, wrinkled lab coats, coffee stains on sleeves, bloodshot eyes, outdated checkered shirts.

And yet, somehow, they were all strikingly charismatic. The moment I walked in, they cheered as if a hero had arrived.

Embarrassed, I accepted their greetings and trailed behind Yun.

“Senior Mühlen is here again today.”

“If he’s not, something’s wrong.”

I stared in awe at John Mühlen standing like an ancient tree, and Yun said gruffly,

“Not a joke. Remember that.”

I handed over the samples to Yun’s division.

Work finished, the craving to know K’s name returned in full force. The impatience I’d been suppressing came flooding back.

Lately, whenever I had nothing to do, that same anxious guilt crept in — the need to keep moving, to rebuild the past, to make amends.

But Yun remained as calm as ever.

He told me to wait, then left.

I sat sulking in his chair until I couldn’t stand it anymore and ordered dinner.

Lexic Basic Noodles.

A few scientists gathered around, eating dinner with me.

“This tastes like crap.”

“It’s amazing.”

“Right? It’s good, right?”

I knew someone would understand.

Beaming, I smiled at the scientist devouring Lexic noodles like it was a feast.

This really was the best. I couldn’t help feeling happy that someone else appreciated it too.

“You’ve got excellent taste!”

[Restaurant ‘Lexic’ has a rating of 2.5 out of 5 stars.]

The round AI floated up, spinning lazily above my head.

[Based on 238 reviews!]

Martin, you know nothing.

***

Yun returned to his desk only after I was talking with Bobby.

Senior Bobby Winter.

Surprisingly, she’d come to see me because of the apple cider I’d brewed.

“My father wants to sell it at his restaurant.”

“...Doesn’t your father run one of the biggest restaurant chains?”

Smoky makeup, crimson lipstick. Her elegantly tied blond hair still exuded class.

Bobby was wearing black stiletto heels — at least eight centimeters tall. One leg was prosthetic, though you’d never notice at a glance.

Thank god she didn’t start wearing pants only after that incident.

As I thought that, she replied,

“Yeah. He wants to sell it at his high-end flagship. Don’t worry, he’ll pay you properly.”

“I’m not worried about the price...”

Why was this turning into a big deal?

“I just don’t think it’s really worth selling—”

“Don’t be stupid.”

She cut me off immediately.

“That was the best drink I’ve had in ten years.”

“Hmm...”

“Whose word are you gonna trust if not the daughter of a restaurant owner? We’ll buy it. Every bottle you’ve got.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

But Bobby didn’t look like she’d back down. Rubbing my neck awkwardly, I let out a resigned sigh. After all that insistence, I might as well sell it.

She could handle the price however she wanted.

Apparently, she took my expression as agreement — her lips curved proudly.

But that smug smile didn’t last.

Her body jolted when she noticed something behind me.

“Eek!”

I turned. Yun was there.

So she really was scared of him.

Blankly, I looked at my cold-faced mentor standing behind me.

Seeing them together, I could understand why the blonde senior feared him. Yun carried both an innate cruelty and an air of icy restraint.

Sneaking up like that only made it worse.

Choi Yun didn’t even flinch at Bobby’s reaction, clearly used to it.

He looked at me.

“I confirmed the name.”

I flinched.

“Kairos. K, A, I, R, O, S.”

“What the fuck.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“Why him?”

He sent me the message?

No—

He didn’t side with Kyle?