The Association building didn't look like power.
That was intentional.
No towering spires. No intimidating architecture. Just layered glass, muted stone, and entrances designed to make people slow down without realizing why. Even the security gates were subtle—no weapons drawn, no raised voices.
Order, not force.
Joon-seok felt it the moment he stepped inside.
The pull again.
Not toward people.
Toward structure.
They were led through three checkpoints.
No scanners that registered skills.No suppression fields.
Only identity verification, biometric confirmation, and something else—something quieter. A delay between responses. Micro-pauses inserted into conversation, just long enough to see who filled the silence.
Se-rin didn't.
Joon-seok didn't either.
That was noted.
The evaluation chamber was smaller than expected.
Circular. Windowless. A single table in the center with four seats already occupied. No elevated platforms. No symbols. Just people who had learned that authority didn't need decoration.
A recorder activated as they entered.
"Guildmaster Seo," one of them said. "Thank you for attending personally."
"Don't mistake presence for compliance," Se-rin replied calmly.
The man smiled thinly. "Duly noted."
Joon-seok took his seat.
No restraints.
No interface.
That bothered him more than any of the alternatives.
"This is not a disciplinary hearing," a woman on the panel said. "Nor a recruitment attempt."
Joon-seok thought: That's a lie built on a technicality.
"This is a classification review," she continued. "Due to observed irregularities following recent dungeon clears."
"Observed by whom?" Se-rin asked.
"Multiple sources," the woman replied. "Independent."
"Independent doesn't mean unrelated," Se-rin said.
The woman didn't disagree.
"Han Joon-seok," another panelist said, looking directly at him. "Do you understand why you're here?"
"Yes," he replied. "Because you don't understand me."
A brief pause.
Then the man chuckled. "Direct. I like that."
Se-rin did not.
"Let's clarify something," the first man said. "Your registered ability is classified as support-type, low-rank growth acceleration."
"Yes."
"By all established metrics," he continued, "that ability should plateau sharply once a target approaches their natural ceiling."
"Yes."
"And yet," the woman said, "we have data suggesting performance adjustments in individuals who should be unaffected."
Joon-seok nodded once. "That would be concerning."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the correct reaction," he replied.
The panel exchanged looks.
Not irritation.
Interest.
"Do you deny influencing these individuals?" the woman asked.
"No," Joon-seok said.
Se-rin's eyes flicked to him.
He continued.
"I deny directly influencing them."
The man leaned forward slightly. "Explain."
"I don't grant power," Joon-seok said. "I don't enhance output. I don't override limits."
"Then what do you do?"
Joon-seok thought for a moment.
"I remove noise."
Silence.
Not because they didn't understand.
Because they did.
And that was worse.
"Combat isn't just strength," Joon-seok continued. "It's decision-making under pressure. Most failures happen because perception lags behind reality. I… reduce that gap."
"You're describing optimization," the woman said.
"No," he replied. "Optimization implies intent."
"And you lack intent?"
"I lack direction," he corrected. "Observation isn't aimed."
One of the panelists exhaled slowly.
"That's not reassuring."
"It's honest."
"Can you control it?" the man asked.
Joon-seok didn't answer immediately.
Then: "I can avoid proximity."
"That's not control," the woman said.
"It's the only honest version of it," he replied.
Se-rin finally spoke.
"My brother is not an asset," she said evenly. "He's not a contagion either."
"Those aren't the only categories," the man replied.
"They're the only ones you're allowed to use," Se-rin said.
The air tightened.
"We're not here to seize him," the woman said carefully. "But we are here to set boundaries."
"Define them," Se-rin said.
The woman looked back at Joon-seok.
"Field exposure limits. Mandatory reporting. And supervised joint operations when deemed necessary."
Joon-seok frowned slightly.
"Necessary for whom?"
"For stability," the woman replied.
He nodded slowly.
"That's vague enough to be dangerous."
The man smiled again. "You're perceptive."
"I have to be," Joon-seok said. "People keep trying to decide what I am."
"And what do you think you are?" the woman asked.
Joon-seok met her gaze.
"A variable you can't isolate."
The recorder hummed softly.
Outside the room, Association observers waited.
Elsewhere in the city, someone strong enough to ignore most rules reviewed an evaluation schedule—and saw Joon-seok's name.
And smiled.
The recorder clicked once.
Not off.
Reset.
A small thing.
Joon-seok noticed.
"Let's be clear," the man said, folding his hands. "We cannot classify what you are doing as a violation."
Se-rin didn't relax.
"And yet?" she asked.
"And yet," the woman continued, "we also cannot classify it as benign."
Joon-seok nodded. "That's consistent."
"Is it?" the woman asked.
"Yes," he replied. "You're afraid of variables you didn't design."
No denial followed.
"Your presence alters outcomes," the man said. "Even when you're not acting."
"Presence isn't a crime," Se-rin said.
"No," he agreed. "But unmanaged influence becomes one."
The word unmanaged hung there.
Deliberate.
The woman tapped the table.
"Here's our ruling," she said. "Han Joon-seok will remain a registered low-rank support awakener."
Joon-seok raised an eyebrow.
Se-rin's eyes narrowed.
"That classification," the woman continued, "will not be publicly revised."
Joon-seok understood immediately.
A lid.
"However," the man added, "his operational permissions will be amended."
A screen activated behind them.
Three lines appeared.
Association-monitored field participation required
Cross-guild observation approved only under supervision
Joint operations mandatory upon Association request
Se-rin leaned back slightly.
"Mandatory," she repeated.
"Yes."
"You're conscripting him."
"No," the woman said. "We're anchoring him."
"That's worse."
Joon-seok studied the list.
Not angry.
Calculating.
"And refusal?" he asked.
The woman met his gaze.
"Would be interpreted as intent."
Se-rin's fingers tightened.
"You're building a cage without bars," Joon-seok said.
The man smiled faintly. "Cages are inefficient."
"And what happens," Joon-seok asked, "when the thing inside doesn't push?"
The smile faltered.
Just a little.
"There's one more condition," the woman said.
She gestured.
Another panel slid open.
Immediate deployment authorization granted.
Location: Class-B dungeon, outskirts of IncheonOperation Type: Joint responseParticipants: One S-rank primary, mixed support team
Joon-seok's gaze sharpened.
"This was decided before we walked in."
"Yes," the woman replied.
Se-rin stood.
"No."
The room froze.
"This violates your own protocols," Se-rin said. "No evaluation is followed by immediate field exposure."
"Normally," the man said. "But circumstances have changed."
"Because you're impatient."
"Because someone else already moved," the woman said quietly.
She slid a tablet across the table.
Footage loaded.
Live feed.
A dungeon entrance.
Emergency barriers half-deployed.
A familiar pressure in the air.
Joon-seok felt it the instant the image appeared.
The pull.
Stronger.
Closer.
"That dungeon," he said slowly, "is unstable."
"Yes," the woman replied.
"And the S-ranker you assigned—"
"Requested you specifically," the man finished.
Se-rin's head snapped up.
"Requested?" she repeated.
The man nodded.
"They felt interference," he said. "And they want to see the source."
Joon-seok stared at the screen.
The dungeon gate pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
He could almost feel the rhythm.
The correction trying to happen.
"If I go," Joon-seok said, "this won't stay contained."
"That's our assessment too," the woman replied.
Se-rin laughed.
Not humor.
Disbelief.
"Then why?"
The man leaned back.
"Because if we don't define the conditions," he said, "someone else will."
Silence stretched.
Heavy.
Inevitable.
Joon-seok stood.
"I'll go."
Se-rin turned sharply. "No."
He met her gaze.
"This isn't them forcing me," he said quietly. "This is me choosing where the line is drawn."
She searched his face.
Found no hesitation.
The recorder clicked again.
This time—
Off.
As they escorted him out, his phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
No message.
Just a location ping.
Incheon.
Same coordinates.
Somewhere above the city, the system updated.
Condition met: external validation pending.Observation depth increased.
Joon-seok didn't feel stronger.
Didn't feel different.
He just understood something he hadn't before.
The next time he stepped into a dungeon—
He wouldn't be observing alone.