“…Master.”
Jin Baekji murmured, her expression etched with worry.
It was understandable. One item, countless covetous gazes.
Competition was inevitable.
Unfortunately, even Han Taemin couldn’t guarantee victory in this race. His available funds were limited. Even a hunter with a reputation as a “walking corporation” could only access so much capital on short notice.
“How about selling the Lightning’s components? Since we only acquired one, there should be plenty of interested parties.”
It was a viable option. Even after splitting the byproducts four ways, two shares belonged to Overlord Guild.
With Han Taemin and Jin Baekji’s combined resources, securing the item wasn’t impossible.
“The auction’s coming up. We could make a substantial profit. Collectors go crazy for these things.” Guang Lian enthusiastically agreed. Unlike the two women, Han Taemin remained skeptical.
“Inefficient.”
Refining the byproducts themselves was far more practical. There was no telling when another Overlord would appear. Holding onto the materials was the prudent long-term strategy.
“If it comes to that, I’ll even dip into my personal savings…” Jin Baekji abruptly stood, digging into her pockets. As an SSS-rank hunter, she wasn’t short on funds.
However—
“I appreciate the thought, but I can’t accept.”
Even with their close relationship, he had to maintain professional boundaries.
“Rejecting the gigolo life… You’re a bad man…” she teased.
“Oh, yes, so bad. He doesn’t even recognize what a catch Baekji is,” Guang Lian added, patting the now dramatically slumped Jin Baekji.
Overhearing their theatrical exchange, Han Taemin rummaged through his belongings.
“Besides, it’s not over yet. I have this.”
Guang Lian’s eyes lit up as she saw the slip of paper.
A reddish receipt. The Mark Six—Hong Kong’s lottery.
“When did you even buy that?”
“While I was out. There’s a Jockey Club nearby.”
The Mark Six, a global standard: pick six numbers out of forty-nine. Doubts lingered, however.
“I know lotteries are great for quick cash, if you win.”
The odds were abysmal. A path to ruin, not riches. Hardly a reassuring plan.
Then, a thought struck Jin Baekji. A wry smile touched her lips.
“Don’t tell me… Your Las Vegas win…”
“That wasn’t luck.”
“What’s the secret? Don’t leave me hanging!” Guang Lian chimed in.
“See for yourself. The winning numbers should be out.” He casually tossed the ticket. Guang Lian caught it, instinctively checking her phone.
[ 3, 8, 22, 33, 37, 40 ]
[ 3, 8, 22, 33, 37, 40 ]
“What the…”
All six matched. A jackpot. A silent scream escaped Guang Lian as she confirmed the prize.
$120 million USD. Roughly 130 billion won. Her eyes trembled as she absorbed the figure.
She knew he was confident, but this? It felt surreal.
Jin Baekji, maintaining a semblance of composure, spoke.
“This still isn’t enough. You’d earn more taking down a monstrous.”
“That’s why I called it ‘this’,” Han Taemin replied, his tone implying something more.
“But there aren’t any lotteries with bigger payouts…”
“Except Powerball and Mega Millions.”
Guang Lian shivered.
Powerball and Mega Millions—lotteries with limitless rollovers, jackpots swelling until claimed. A gambler’s paradise, where the rich and poor alike were subject to the whims of chance.
“Even with the Mark Six win, those are impossible. Be realistic.”
One in 300 million. The chance of Awakening was higher. This was beyond gambling.
“I already won the Powerball.”
“What?!”
He hadn’t been idle during the two weeks leading up to the auction. While Park Chilman had his hammer, Han Taemin sharpened his own tools.
“Mega Millions results are due any minute.”
Tap, tap.
His phone buzzed. The result was a foregone conclusion.
Jackpot.
$723 million from Powerball, $664 million from Mega Millions. His personal wealth skyrocketed to nearly two trillion won. Jin Baekji shook her head, a mixture of disbelief and exhaustion in her eyes.
Guang Lian felt the same. She understood, but the reality was so outlandish, so difficult to process.
“The taxes on that must be astronomical.”
“Not a problem. That’s already handled.”
Karina was the designated recipient, exempt from taxes. The entire sum belonged to Han Taemin.
“Do you have a luck-based ability or something?”
“Something like that.”
Guang Lian frowned at his casual response. He initially seemed ordinary, but now… The monstrous wasn’t external, but internal. A lottery multi-millionaire? Such blatant unfairness felt almost wrong.
“Macau’s right next door to Hong Kong,” he mused, referring to the gambling mecca, rivaling Las Vegas.
His intentions were obvious.
Guang Lian shrugged, defeated. “Should’ve known you were a shark. I worried for nothing. I would’ve asked for your numbers.”
Jin Baekji sighed, relieved. “At least this worked out. I thought we were out of options. Now we meet the minimum requirements. We might actually win this auction.”
“…”
Han Taemin’s silence and somber expression drew Guang Lian’s attention.
“What’s wrong? Isn’t this good news?”
“I have a bad feeling about an uninvited guest.”
“Uninvited guest?”
“Aziz. Do you think he’ll be happy about this?”
From Aziz’s perspective, this was a blatant theft of what he considered his. How the still-living “master” would react was a critical consideration. The worst terrorist operated without limits. Anything was possible.
Jin Baekji took Han Taemin’s hand. “Even Aziz wouldn’t risk coming to Hong Kong. It’s swarming with high-profile figures. Besides, you have me and Master here. Don’t worry.”
“She’s right. Aziz isn’t stupid. The UN is looking for any excuse to take him down. He wouldn’t risk coming here.”
“That’s reassuring, but…” The unease lingered.
“Human greed is a bottomless pit. They never learn.” Al Ajira surveyed his surroundings after arriving in Hong Kong.
Children skipping hand-in-hand with their parents, elderly couples supporting each other, groups of youths enjoying ice cream—all blissfully unaware of the impending storm.
‘It has been too quiet.’
The fissure floods, the monster appearances—distant events for those fortunate enough to remain untouched.
Not that it was a disadvantage. Their complacency had facilitated Mutlaq’s infiltration long ago. There was no need to deploy Syrian forces; local collaborators were plentiful. The auction’s location and attendee list flowed to him effortlessly.
“Such a convenient world.” He sat on a bench, wiping sweat from his brow.
“This humidity is stifling.” Even for Hong Kong, the heat and humidity were excessive.
‘Sūrya.’ The cursed sword, its mere presence warping the climate.
Al Ajira instantly grasped Sūrya’s true nature. He, one of its creators, knew the sword better than anyone save Aziz.
He’d waited so long for this moment—twelve long years.
Twelve years of absence, now culminating in its return.
Sūrya was an untamable bomb, a glass brimming with volatile potential, ready to overflow at the slightest touch.
Despite years of study, Al Ajira hadn’t mastered it. Sūrya remained a bomb, refusing any master.
But his efforts bore fruit. He’d discovered how to provoke it.
A familiar figure sat beside him. Al Ajira spoke, his gaze fixed forward.
“So, Huang Sunyong received the item?”
“Yes. I’ve arranged for it to be included in the auction.”
“Efficient, Jericho.”
Legion, the multinational hunter dispatch company. Initially doubted, they proved remarkably competent, though expensive.
“It won’t be easy. Han Taemin and Jin Baekji are here.”
“Irrelevant. Once it starts, it’s over. No one can stop it.”
“Good.”
Jericho nodded, rising and walking away.
Alone, Al Ajira watched a plane overhead. Drawn by the honey of Sūrya, they swarmed—Hong Kong, already densely populated, now overflowing with those eager to witness the auction.
Perfect timing. Maximum efficiency. Optimal personnel.
Once Sūrya awakened, this peace would shatter. It would relentlessly devour life, insatiable. Human sacrifices upon human sacrifices.
‘I wonder how this will play out.’ A slow smile spread across his lips as he anticipated the coming chaos.
Jin Baekji and Guang Lian. Finally free from their relentless energy after a full day of escorting them, Han Taemin found himself alone under the evening sky.
He strolled across the expansive grounds, any direction a path in this grand estate.
A shout echoed in the distance. He turned, his gaze drawn to the source.
Guang Hun, was it?