That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B!

Inside the Chairman’s sprawling, quiet office, Go Gun-Hee personally poured Min-jun a cup of high-grade traditional tea. The elderly man sat across from him, resting his large, calloused hands on his desk, studying the young student like a complex puzzle.

Min-jun sat perfectly calm. He took a slow sip of his tea. He didn’t like wasting good food, and the tea was genuinely excellent.

He knew exactly what was about to happen. No matter how much mystery, authority, or prestige Chairman Go tried to project, Min-jun already knew what the Korean Hunter Association had to offer.

Patriotism.

That was it. Aside from a modest civil servant’s salary, the Association couldn’t compete with the billions of Won the private Guilds were throwing around. The government’s only recruitment tactic was to appeal to a Hunter’s sense of duty.

Working for the country means working for a higher purpose than vulgar money.

It was a beautiful sentiment, but functionally, it was a scam. If a Hunter was expected to risk their life fighting giant monsters for free just out of patriotism, who was actually the shameless one in that transaction?

Despite his cynical thoughts, Min-jun genuinely respected Go Gun-Hee. The Chairman had completely abandoned his own personal desires to become the solitary pillar holding up the collapsing sky of South Korea. To possess that kind of selfless justice in your heart was incredibly rare. Min-jun freely admitted that his own heart was much uglier and far more selfish in comparison. Because he respected the old man’s sacrifice, he decided he would at least hear him out.

”Kim Min-jun, how old are you?” Chairman Go asked, his voice deep and rumbling.

”Nineteen years old, Chairman.”

”You are very young,” Chairman Go nodded slowly. ”Yet, you are incredibly mature. I read your file. You have worked relentlessly from a very young age to help support your late grandmother. Thank you for your hard work.”

The Chairman gently bowed his head.

”...”

Min-jun remained completely silent, his eyes narrowing slightly. He absolutely hated this specific negotiation tactic.

Just what are you trying to pull, Chairman?

It was one thing to ask him to join the Association, but digging into his tragic family backstory to play the emotional guilt card? That crossed a line. Where was the government when his grandmother was struggling to pay taxes? Why did the state only care about his tragic backstory now that he could shoot explosive blue arrows?

Min-jun wasn’t going to be the naive, overworked hero from a light novel who fought demons for minimum wage just to maintain the status quo.

Chairman Go met Min-jun’s eyes, his expression turning deeply sincere. ”The private Guilds outside my door view you as a product. You are just a shiny new asset to artificially inflate their stock prices. But the Association views you as a citizen. Korea is in grave danger, Min-jun. We desperately need a strong pillar to hold up the sky. I want you to work directly for me.”

There it was. The Patriotism Trap.

It was the exact same heavy, emotional pitch Chairman Go used on Sung Jin-woo in the original timeline. And honestly, it was highly effective. For a normal, twenty-something Korean citizen, looking a legendary national hero in the eye and saying ”No” was almost psychologically impossible.

And the hardest part? Chairman Go wasn’t lying. Every single word he spoke was the absolute truth.

However...

Min-jun knew that accepting the role of the ”Pillar” meant accepting a crushing avalanche of responsibility. He didn’t want it. He had spent his entire life grinding just to survive; now that he finally had power, he wanted to be a little selfish. Besides, he could still easily protect the country as a private contractor. He didn’t need a government badge to kill monsters.

Min-jun took another sip of his tea and placed the porcelain cup gently on the saucer.

”Chairman Go, you are asking me to be the pillar holding up the sky,” Min-jun began, his voice smooth and entirely unfazed. ”However, I must refuse. I am not cut out to be a national symbol. More importantly, rather than forcing yourself to recruit me, you should be focusing heavily on your own health. Your body is currently failing because you can no longer contain the burden of being that pillar yourself.”

”.....”

”—?!”

Chairman Go froze completely. Behind him, Chief Woo Jin-chul’s eyes widened in absolute horror, his hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of his weapon.

Absolutely nobody outside of a highly classified medical team knew about the Chairman’s illness!

”...How could you possibly know that?” Chairman Go whispered, his authoritative aura shattering.

Was the boy a spy? Impossible. Min-jun had literally just Awakened a few hours ago, and his background was completely transparent. He was a university student who live-streamed his homework! How could he possibly know the Chairman was dying?!

In Min-jun’s vision, a translucent blue screen hovered directly over the old man’s chest.

[Target: Go Gun-Hee.]

[Entity Status: Vessel of the Brightest Fragment of Light.]

[Physical Condition: Severe Cardiac Strain. Mana Circuit Overload. Estimated time until fatal heart failure: < 2 years.]

With the Manager actively scanning the room, Min-jun saw absolutely everything. But he wasn’t cruel enough to read the exact diagnosis out loud. Telling an old man he had less than twenty-four months to live was just completely unnecessary.

”I see the flow of the world, Chairman,” Min-jun lied flawlessly, adjusting his glasses. ”I can literally see that your ’patriotism’ is killing you.”

It was complete nonsense, but he knew they would buy it. After all, Archers possessed the highest ”Sense” stat out of all the Hunter classes. They were famous for feeling, seeing, and detecting things that were completely invisible to normal people.

Min-jun knew he had instantly won the negotiation. The Chairman was entirely on the defensive now. It was time to wrap this up and go get his money from the billionaires waiting in the lobby.

”If I join the Association, I become a civil servant,” Min-jun explained, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. ”I will get buried in red tape, assembly hearings, and budget committees. If a Gate breaks and I want to save a city, I’ll have to wait three hours for the Prime Minister to sign an approval form.

”I don’t want that kind of trouble. I want to use my time efficiently. I am going to join a private Guild because I can dictate my own terms. Let the corporate lawyers handle the politicians and the aggressive press. I will handle the monsters. I am not abandoning Korea, Chairman; I am simply refusing to wear its handcuffs.”

It was the perfect rejection. He framed his extreme pragmatism as a tactical advantage for the country, ensuring nobody could label him a traitor.

Chairman Go stared at the young man. Slowly, the tension left the old hero’s broad shoulders. He realized he wasn’t talking to a hot-headed, arrogant rookie, nor was he dealing with a greedy, selfish mercenary like Hwang Dong-Su. He was dealing with a purely logical, highly calculated anomaly.

Chairman Go sighed. He wasn’t angry; surprisingly, he felt incredibly relieved.

”You are arrogant,” Chairman Go chuckled softly. ”But you are certainly not foolish. Very well. The Association will not interfere with your Guild negotiations.”

The Chairman picked up a heavy, gold-plated stamp, pressed it firmly against Min-jun’s official S-Rank License, and slid the sleek black card across the wooden desk.

”Just remember this, Kim Min-jun,” Chairman Go said, his eyes locking onto the boy. ”When a disaster eventually comes that money cannot solve... I will call you.”

Min-jun picked up the license, sliding it smoothly into his pocket with a confident smile. ”You can call me anytime, Chairman. But I should warn you, my private consulting fees are very high. Please, drink some herbal tea for that heart. And thank you for the hospitality; the tea really was excellent.”

”Jin-chul,” Chairman Go ordered quietly. ”Escort him out.”

”Y-Yes, Chairman!”

As Min-jun politely excused himself and walked out the door, Chairman Go let out a long, helpless sigh. Jin-chul, however, was sweating bullets the entire walk down the hallway. He had just watched a nineteen-year-old kid casually intimidate and out-negotiate the single strongest, most respected man in South Korea.

Back in the office, Chairman Go smiled faintly. Min-jun might have refused the government badge, but as long as the boy remained in South Korea, that was enough.

When Min-jun finally stepped out of the elevators and back into the massive, marble-floored lobby, the tension was thick enough to cut with a sword.

Choi Jong-In, Baek Yoon-Ho, Lim Tae-Gyu, and Cha Hae-In were all standing exactly where he had left them, practically vibrating with corporate anxiety. When they saw him walking toward them, completely unbothered, the Guild Masters held their breath.

Min-jun stopped in front of the group. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his brand-new, freshly stamped S-Rank card, and held it up between his index and middle finger.

He offered the apex predators of South Korea a brilliant, flawless smile.

”Alright,” Min-jun said cheerfully. ”Who wants to pay for my tuition?”

---

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