Chapter 13
—
Midway up Geumgangsan.
Through the wild forest where no paths existed…
Woof woof―!
…A dog??
A four-eyed black Jindo dog was tearing through the forest at an explosive speed.
Leaping over rocks, pushing through thickets, stepping on trees, and even gliding—its movements were nearly acrobatic.
One thing was certain: its athletic abilities far exceeded the bounds of common sense.
Sniff sniff―! Sniff sniff―!!
Its tongue hung out as its nose busily sniffed around, and soon, the Jindo dog stopped next to a rock.
Its black nostrils flared as it sniffed, and, as if it had finally found what it was looking for, it let out a loud howl toward the sky.
“Awooooo~!!”
Thud thud thud―
The resounding howl reverberated across the mountains, shaking the forest. Birds took flight from all directions.
At that moment…
Among the flock of birds flying in the sky, a deer began walking…?
The epitome of a herbivore with four legs and antlers, this deer was walking through the air rather than on the ground, descending gracefully.
And then…
“Tana, I told you not to bark recklessly. You’re scaring everyone.”
On the back of this mystical stag sat a man. A middle-aged man with a striking mix of black and white hair and a dignified appearance.
Mountain King, Kim Jong-pil, made his appearance.
“Woof woof―!!”
“What is it? Did you find a gift?”
Neigh~
“Herbs? Very large herbs?”
Growl!
“Alright, let’s see if you’re right, Tana.”
Kim Jong-pil waved his hand lightly, and the tree roots where the dog was sitting surged out of the ground.
Moments later, they revealed a single stem at the tip, holding…
A ginseng.
Just as the dog said, it was a very, very large ginseng.
The ginseng, which seemed to be at least 100 years old, exuded a mystical aura. Kim Jong-pil chuckled heartily and scratched under Tana’s chin.
“Ho ho, this is impressive. You have every right to be proud, Tana.”
“Woof woof―!!”
“A gift, you say? Kid, you shouldn’t dig up things like this recklessly.”
Whimper…
“Still, thank you. You’re the only one who thinks of me, Tana. Oh, and Vita, you too.”
Perhaps displeased that only the dog was being praised, the stag lowered its head and rubbed its snout against Kim Jong-pil’s cheek.
Kim Jong-pil, whose heart was heavy with complex emotions, felt his burdens lighten thanks to the adorable antics of his companions.
With a bright smile, he patted their heads. At the same time, the ginseng carried by the tree roots was drilled back into the ground, returning to its place.
“It’s getting late. Let’s stop playing and head home.”
Growl~!
“What? You want to fly too? Alright, as you wish.”
Once again, riding the stag, Kim Jong-pil soared into the sky.
The dog, eager to follow, hopped in place. Seeing this, Kim Jong-pil gladly obliged.
The moment he snapped his fingers, a whirlwind of wind gathered beneath the dog’s paws.
The semi-transparent wind twisted like clay, and as its form solidified, it turned into a mighty falcon flapping its wings.
Several mid-level wind spirits gathered below the dog, lifting it up, as it matched pace with Kim Jong-pil.
The dog barked joyously, and Kim Jong-pil smiled warmly at the sight.
A cool breeze brushed against his body, filling him with a sense of liberation. For a moment, he felt free from the constraints of space, reveling in pure freedom.
After some time of flying through the air, a steep cliff appeared in the distance.
And atop that cliff stood a solitary hanok, Kim Jong-pil’s villa.
TL/n: A hanok is a traditional Korean house. The design of a hanok dates back to the 14th century.
The house seemed precariously perched on the edge of the cliff, which looked almost impossible for any car to ascend. But as evident, such obstacles posed no problem for Kim Jong-pil.
“Phew. My friends, you’ve done well.”
As Kim Jong-pil set foot in the villa’s yard, the stag—actually the highest-grade wood spirit, Vita—rubbed its face against him one last time before dissolving into the air.
The Jindo dog landed on the ground shortly after, panting with its tongue out, its triangular mouth hinting at how much fun it had.
“You need a bath.”
Before the words had fully left his mouth, water droplets swirled up from the ground.
Upon closer inspection, tiny water mice could be seen playing within the swirling streams. These low-grade water spirits, following their master’s command, began washing the dog.
This was Kim Jong-pil.
With extraordinary mana control that allowed him to handle spirits of vastly different elements without delay, and mana reserves so boundless that even everyday use posed no strain.
Through Summoner’s Mastery, he transformed animals into summoned beasts.
With Tempest and Torrent, he wielded wind and water spirits simultaneously.
And with World Tree’s Gardener, he commanded the supreme wood spirit, Vita, along with near-limitless mana.
Once an undisputed absolute power in his prime, and even now, nearing sixty, a contender at the highest levels—
The World-Class.
The Mountain King.
“Ah… My back. I’m getting old.”
Even this minor exertion left him feeling weary. Kim Jong-pil reclined in a rocking chair.
Surrounded by the mountain’s tranquil beauty, he perched precariously on the edge of the cliff, savoring the scenery. He looked like a celestial being from a fairy tale.
“How wonderful.”
Kim Jong-pil particularly loved the view of Geumgangsan from here. Its majestic presence seemed to clear his mind of worries and fill him with serenity.
And what pairs better with fine scenery than a good drink?
After a brief intention, tree branches extended, retrieving a soju bottle from the fridge inside the house, and handed it to Kim Jong-pil.
For the first time in a while, he skipped the glass and drank straight from the bottle.
Just as he was about to open the cap—
“…Hmm?”
Around the mansion, the scattered spirits sent out their senses.
Someone was approaching.
Kim Jong-pil’s brow furrowed deeply.
This place wasn’t even known to his family, not even to his treasured granddaughter, so who could it be?
Could it possibly be…
For a moment, the face of a friend who was now just a memory flashed through his mind.
“No, that ‘Jeong-do’ bastard wouldn’t stoop that low.”
Then who could it be?
After a brief moment of thought, Kim Jong-pil’s eyes narrowed.
“As they say, Good people do not come, and those who come are not good..”
Whoever it was, their identity was unknown, but they were an uninvited guest regardless.
An orb, casually lying near the jars by the yard, floated into the air and began to glow beside Kim Jong-pil.
In an instant, magic began to dance.
Lines, dots, and spirit language unfolded in midair like musical notes.
Countless water mice leaped down to the ground and concealed themselves.
Above them, wind hawks dissolved into the breeze, taking control of the surroundings.
This should be sufficient.
Having prepared thoroughly, Kim Jong-pil waited leisurely for the uninvited guest.
Soon after.
Creak, the rusty hinges groaned as the wooden gate opened.
Tension lingered in the air as something suddenly emerged.
“……A hand?”
A hand holding a soju bottle, no less.
Moreover, it was the same brand of soju that Kim Jong-pil had just been about to open.
“Nice to meet you. I know it’s a bit odd to say this on our first meeting, but…”
Lee Shin waved the soju bottle with a bright smile.
“Care for a drink?”
* * *
Sitting across from each other on the veranda, the two faced one another.
Pouring the soju, Kim Jong-pil began speaking.
“I must be getting old, drinking with Sang-byuk hyung’s grandson of all people. By the way, how did you know I was here? This place is unknown to anyone.”
Lee Shin, also politely pouring with both hands, responded.
“I’ve always admired you. When I heard you’d ‘retired,’ I came here right away.”
“Retired, huh… But how could you have known about my retirement?”
“Hehe~ Don’t sweat the small details. Let’s toast first, shall we? Cheers!!”
“This kid sure has a lot of secrets.”
Their glasses clinked.
“Ahhh~ By the way, do you know my grandfather?”
“I’ve had a few meals thanks to Cheol-ong hyung.”
“Oh, Secretary Yoo?”
“Cheol-ong hyung is my hometown senior. We used to cause quite a ruckus back in the day…”
“Let me pour you another.”
Glug glug glug…
“Shin, right? Your name comes up quite often. They say you’ve been causing a flashy stir as a young lad.”
“Hehe, I am quite famous, aren’t I?”
“Seeing you in person, it seems the rumors didn’t do you justice. Handsome yet delicate, you look like you could charm a fair number of women. Even your mere presence draws chaos.”
“You, sir, are crispy on the outside, soft on the inside.”
“What? crispy on the outside, soft on the inside?”
“It means you seem tough on the surface but are soft and kind inside. It’s the kind of appearance that makes you seem like you’d take the short end of the stick.”
“What an impudent brat. Telling an elder they look like they live at a loss, how rude.”
“I hear that a lot. Haha~ By the way, we’re missing snacks. We at least need some kimchi. Should I bring the jerky from the car? Hyung, could you grab the jerky from the car for us?”
Kim Jong-pil tried to figure Lee Shin out, while Lee Shin dodged skillfully.
As their drinks went back and forth, a subtle tension simmered.
“Now I’m really curious—how did you find this place? And how do you know so much about my retirement? It seems like you know an awful lot about me. How?”
“Hehe, I raised my affinity levels and saw it in your storyboard.”
“So, you’re saying you have no intention of explaining.”
“But I’m serious! You were an SSS-tier named character, so you had tons of cutscenes.”
“Hahaha. You’re far more peculiar than I expected, truly a unique case.”
His ability to dodge questions was extraordinary. Kim Jong-pil chuckled while muttering about the eccentricity entering Sang-byuk’s lineage.
Then, deciding further sparring was unnecessary, he shifted the conversation to the main topic.
“Let’s stop this power play and get to the point. Why did you come looking for an already-retired relic?”
“Shall we?”
The atmosphere shifted in an instant, and Lee Shin adjusted his posture, kneeling formally.
The playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a serious and respectful expression. Kim Jong-pil braced himself for what was coming next.
“An offer for recruitment, is it?”
It was always the same.
The circumstances of his retirement had not been made public for complicated reasons.
Still, where there were secrets, there were always those who uncovered them.
He’d already received several calls from acquaintances, and all of them—without exception—had been recruitment proposals.
He assumed Lee Shin was no different and prepared his usual rejection line while sipping his drink.
But the words that came out of Lee Shin’s mouth were,
“Don’t you want to grow stronger?”
“Pfft―!”
Now this was refreshing.
At eighteen, when Kim Jong-pil awakened, he had never once doubted his strength.
Watching famous hunters on TV or major-level competitions only deepened his conviction:
“I am stronger than them.”
And Kim Jong-pil eventually proved this belief beyond a doubt.
Together with his comrades, he elevated his nation to the pinnacle of the world.
But now, here was some brat, barely old enough to be his grandson, daring to talk about strength in front of him—a legend.
It was audacious to the point where even a few slaps might have been justified.
In fact, Chae Dong-ha, who was bringing the jerky, and the usually stoic secretary, both paled visibly.
“Haha, I thought I’d met quite a variety of people, but this is my first time encountering someone like you.”
Kim Jong-pil chuckled as he refilled Lee Shin’s glass, inviting him to continue.
Permission granted.
As the stage was set, Lee Shin grinned mischievously, downed his soju, and cleared his throat as though revving up an engine.
“What do you think strength is, sir?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Strength! It’s raw power! Mighty magic! These are all forms of strength. Killing many enemies or defeating powerful monsters are also forms of strength!”
But here’s the thing.
“Why is it, sir, that despite all of this, people don’t associate the term ‘strength’ with you?”
Does Kim Jong-pil lack raw power?
No. Even his supreme tree spirit, Vita, could overpower most martial-type dealers.
Does he lack mighty magic?
Certainly not. His summoned spirit army alone could decimate any battlefield.
Has he not defeated many foes or slain powerful monsters?
Undoubtedly, across Korea and even the world, there are fewer than twenty hunters who have cleared more gates than Kim Jong-pil.
Yet.
Despite meeting all of Lee Shin’s conditions for strength and proving so much more,
The image of Mountain King Kim Jong-pil is strangely detached from the concept of ‘strength.’
Why?
Lee Shin knew the answer perfectly.
“Because, sir, you’ve never once been the protagonist.”
“……!”
Forever the second-in-command.
That’s what the community called the Mountain King.
—
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