Guild headquarters were designed to feel neutral.
White walls. Frosted glass. Clean lines that suggested professionalism instead of power. Even the air conditioning hummed at a frequency meant to be ignored.
It didn't work.
Joon-seok felt the weight the moment he stepped inside White Fang's main building—not the auxiliary wing, but the real headquarters. The place where decisions were made and people learned to smile without meaning it.
He walked half a step behind Se-rin.
Not because he had to.
Because people noticed when he didn't.
The lobby was crowded.
Guild representatives, sub-leaders, analysts, and support staff moved in intersecting paths, each one busy enough to justify ignoring everyone else. Conversations cut off when Se-rin passed, then resumed a second later in lower tones.
Joon-seok counted glances.
Twelve in the first ten seconds.
Most of them curious.
A few calculating.
One openly annoyed.
Interesting.
"This meeting was scheduled quickly," Joon-seok said quietly.
Se-rin didn't slow. "Too quickly."
"Association pressure?"
"Partly."
"And the rest?"
She glanced sideways at him. "You."
He accepted that without comment.
The conference room was already occupied.
White Fang's upper leadership sat on one side of the long table—faces Joon-seok recognized from briefings and internal profiles. People who didn't enter dungeons anymore but still controlled who did.
Across from them sat outsiders.
Three guild representatives.
Different emblems.
Different styles.
Same posture.
Hunters who had learned how to sit like negotiators.
"Guildmaster Seo," one of them said smoothly as Se-rin entered. "Thank you for agreeing on such short notice."
"You asked," Se-rin replied, taking her seat at the head of the table. "We listened."
Her gaze swept the room once.
Then stopped.
"Why are they here?"
The White Fang strategist cleared his throat. "Given the nature of the discussion, it seemed… prudent."
Se-rin leaned back. "That wasn't my question."
Silence stretched.
Then a man from the left guild smiled. "Because what you're sitting on stopped being internal."
Joon-seok felt it then.
That slight tightening again.
Not danger.
Interest.
The meeting began with numbers.
Dungeon clearance rates.Support efficiency metrics.Recent inter-guild cooperation statistics.
Joon-seok listened with half an ear.
The real discussion hadn't started yet.
It always hid behind data first.
"We've noticed a pattern," said the representative from Blue Horizon. "White Fang's auxiliary performance has improved beyond expected variance."
Se-rin's expression didn't change. "We train well."
"So do we."
"Train harder."
A ripple of restrained amusement moved through the room.
Blue Horizon's representative didn't bite. "This isn't an accusation."
"Then why phrase it like one?"
He spread his hands. "Because improvement at that scale attracts attention."
Another representative leaned forward. "And attention attracts interest."
"And interest attracts offers," the third added.
Joon-seok understood.
They weren't here to complain.
They were here to buy.
"You're circling," Se-rin said. "Land it."
The man from Blue Horizon nodded once. "Joint operations."
The table went quiet.
"Expanded," he continued. "Support-sharing agreements. Observer exchange. Temporary reassignments."
Se-rin's gaze sharpened. "You want access."
"We want cooperation."
"You want my people."
"We want results."
That word lingered.
Joon-seok felt eyes slide toward him.
Not openly.
Not rudely.
But intentionally.
He stayed still.
"Our support doctrine is internal," Se-rin said. "We don't loan it out."
"Even when it's demonstrably superior?"
She smiled faintly. "Especially then."
The third representative chuckled. "You know how this sounds."
"Like a guild protecting its edge."
"Like a monopoly."
That earned a reaction.
Not from Se-rin.
From White Fang's strategist, who stiffened visibly.
Se-rin raised a hand.
"Careful," she said. "That word carries legal implications."
The representative shrugged. "So does refusal."
Joon-seok finally spoke.
"May I ask something?"
Every head turned.
Se-rin didn't stop him.
Which meant she'd already decided to let him talk.
"What," Joon-seok asked calmly, "exactly do you think you're negotiating for?"
The Blue Horizon rep smiled. "Efficiency."
"No," Joon-seok replied. "You're negotiating for certainty."
Silence.
He continued, unhurried.
"You've noticed outcomes you can't replicate yet. You want proximity, not partnership. Observation, not cooperation."
A pause.
Then the man laughed softly. "Sharp."
"Observant," Joon-seok corrected.
Se-rin watched him carefully.
He hadn't crossed any line.
He was just… clarifying.
"Let's assume," the second representative said, "that we are interested in a specific method."
Se-rin leaned forward. "There is no transferable method."
"There always is."
"Not this one."
Joon-seok felt that tightening again.
This time, it was closer.
"Guildmaster Seo," the third representative said, voice smooth, "the Association is already asking questions."
Se-rin didn't blink. "They always do."
"And your refusal may be interpreted as noncompliance."
Joon-seok noted the phrasing.
Not will.
May.
Pressure without commitment.
Se-rin stood.
The room stilled instantly.
"White Fang is not refusing," she said. "White Fang is declining to accelerate processes that destabilize the ecosystem."
The representatives exchanged looks.
"You're protecting someone," Blue Horizon said.
Se-rin smiled.
"I always am."
The meeting ended without agreement.
No raised voices.
No slammed doors.
Just polite goodbyes that meant nothing.
As the outsiders left, one of them paused beside Joon-seok.
Quietly.
"You should be careful," he said. "People don't like unknown variables."
Joon-seok met his eyes. "People don't like mirrors either."
The man smiled thinly and walked away.
Once they were alone, Se-rin exhaled.
"That went worse than I hoped."
"That means it went exactly as expected."
She glanced at him. "You're getting too comfortable in these rooms."
"I don't plan to stay."
"You won't get that choice forever."
He nodded. "I know."
She studied him for a moment. "You didn't deny anything."
"I didn't confirm anything either."
"That won't stop them."
"No," he agreed. "But it changes how fast they move."
As they left the building, Joon-seok felt it again.
That quiet shift.
Not a threat.
A decision being made somewhere else.
Guild politics weren't about strength.
They were about timing.
And someone had just started a clock.
White Fang's headquarters didn't relax after the meeting.
If anything, it tightened.
The halls grew quieter, not because fewer people walked them, but because conversations ended the moment Se-rin passed. Joon-seok noticed how often his name appeared on screens that were turned away a second too late.
He didn't need to read them.
The tone was enough.
They were halfway to Se-rin's office when the strategist spoke.
"We need to talk."
Se-rin stopped.
So did everyone else.
"Schedule it," she said.
"I mean now."
Her eyes cooled. "Then speak."
The strategist glanced at Joon-seok. "Privately."
Se-rin didn't hesitate. "Say it in front of him or don't say it at all."
A test.
The strategist chose.
"We're losing leverage," he said. "Three guilds requested joint operations within forty minutes of that meeting."
"And?" Se-rin replied.
"And the Association forwarded a compliance memo."
That earned Joon-seok's attention.
"Informational," the strategist added quickly. "For now."
Se-rin exhaled through her nose. "So they're aligning."
"Yes."
Joon-seok spoke. "Not fully."
The strategist frowned. "Explain."
"They're probing reactions," Joon-seok said. "If we fracture internally, they push. If we don't, they slow down."
Se-rin nodded once. "Which means?"
"Which means pressure shifts inward."
It did.
By evening, White Fang's internal channels were buzzing.
Not openly.
Not aggressively.
But with questions.
Why auxiliary support had priority access to certain resources.Why certain teams saw abnormal improvement curves.Why Se-rin's brother had access clearance beyond his rank.
No accusations.
Just curiosity sharpened into suspicion.
A senior B-rank approached Joon-seok in the training wing.
Respectful.
Careful.
"You've been moving between teams lately," the man said.
"Observation duty," Joon-seok replied.
"That usually comes with reports."
"I submit them."
"Not to us."
Joon-seok met his gaze. "I submit them to command."
The B-rank smiled politely. "That's the concern."
They parted without further words.
That night, Se-rin called an internal leadership meeting.
No outsiders.
No observers.
Just White Fang.
The room felt different this time.
Less united.
Still loyal.
But listening harder than before.
"We are not opening support-sharing agreements," Se-rin said. "This isn't a vote."
A murmur rippled through the room.
One officer cleared his throat. "With respect, Guildmaster, refusal may escalate Association involvement."
"Let it."
"That could result in enforced audits."
"Then we pass them."
Another voice, sharper. "And if they target him directly?"
Silence fell.
Joon-seok felt every eye turn.
Se-rin didn't look at him.
"They already are," she said. "The question is whether we let that divide us."
No one spoke.
That was answer enough.
The move came the next morning.
Blue Horizon announced a public partnership with the Association.
Joint dungeon clears.Shared support data.Open performance metrics.
The news spread fast.
Too fast.
It wasn't cooperation.
It was positioning.
Se-rin read the announcement once.
Then handed the tablet to Joon-seok.
"They want to set a standard," she said.
"And force us to either match it or look suspicious," he replied.
"Yes."
"They'll fail."
Her eyebrow rose.
"They'll over-optimize," Joon-seok continued. "Expose support structures too early. Burn their margins."
Se-rin studied him. "You sound certain."
"I've been watching how people chase efficiency," he said. "They always forget sustainability."
She smiled faintly.
"That's my brother."
Later that day, an unfamiliar name appeared on Joon-seok's internal inbox.
Private Message – Restricted Channel
You handled that meeting well.
No sender ID.
He didn't reply.
Another message followed.
If you ever want to step outside your sister's shadow, there are cleaner paths.
Joon-seok stared at the screen.
Then deleted the message.
That evening, Se-rin joined him on the balcony.
"They'll try to isolate you," she said.
"I know."
"Promise me something."
He looked at her.
"If they force a choice," she continued, "you choose yourself."
He didn't answer immediately.
Then nodded. "Only if you do the same."
She snorted softly. "Deal."
Below them, Seoul glowed.
Guild towers.Association offices.Dungeon suppression units on standby.
A city balanced on systems no one fully controlled.
Joon-seok rested his arms on the railing.
Guild politics weren't loud.
They were patient.
And somewhere out there, someone had decided he was worth the trouble.
That wasn't flattering.
It was dangerous.