The coffee shop looked different at night. Same broken sign. Same burned-bean smell. But the clientele had changed. Gone were the struggling hunters nursing cheap coffee and counting coins. Now the tables held a different breed—the kind of people who did their business in shadows.
I spotted him immediately. Corner booth, back to the wall, perfect sightline to both exits. He looked exactly like I remembered from our first meeting in the original timeline: nondescript features, forgettable face, the kind of person your eyes would slide right past in a crowd.
That was the point. The Shadow Broker was a ghost. No real name. No confirmed rank. No official hunter registration. But he knew everything about everyone. And in my past life, he'd been the only person who never lied to me.
I slid into the seat across from him. Up close, I could see the intelligence in his eyes—sharp, calculating, missing nothing.
"Han Do-Hyun," he said. Not a question. "The E-rank who just made D-rank hunters look like children playing with wooden swords."
"You wanted to meet."
"I did." He pushed a cup of coffee across the table. Still steaming. He'd been waiting, but somehow knew exactly when I'd arrive. "Forty-seven minutes. Solo. D-rank dungeon. At level 18." A pause. "That's impossible."
"People keep saying that."
"Because it's true." He leaned back, studying me. "I've been in this business for fifteen years. I've seen prodigies. Geniuses. Hidden talents that emerged from nowhere. But you?" He shook his head. "You're something else."
I sipped the coffee. Better than the swill Tae-Sung had been drinking earlier. "You didn't call me here to tell me I'm special."
"No. I called you here because you're a mystery." He pulled out a tablet and slid it toward me. "Three months ago, you registered as a hunter. Basic assessment. E-rank, level 15. Unremarkable stats. Nothing interesting."
I looked at the screen. My registration photo stared back at me. The date was right—October 2024, three months before my regression.
"For three months, you did exactly five dungeon runs. All F-rank. All with parties. Your contribution was... adequate. Not impressive. Not terrible. Just... adequate."
He swiped to another page. Clear records. Times. Loot distribution. Every detail meticulously documented.
"Then, two days ago, something changed." Another swipe. "You solo clear an F-rank dungeon in twelve minutes. Set a center record. The next day, you're meeting with Park Tae-Sung—a D-rank warrior you have no prior connection to. And today..." He looked up at me. "Today you solo clear a D-rank dungeon in under an hour. Something that's never been done by anyone below C-rank."
"Your point?"
"My point," he said quietly, "is that people don't change overnight. Skills don't appear from nowhere. Experience can't be manufactured." He leaned forward. "So I'm going to ask you once, and only once: What are you?"
I met his eyes. In my original timeline, I'd met the Shadow Broker in 2028, desperate for information about a traitor in my guild. He'd sold me the truth—at a steep price—but he'd never betrayed my confidence.
The question was: could I trust him now? Three years early?
"I'm a hunter," I said. "Same as everyone else."
"Bullshit."
"Careful. I didn't come here to be insulted."
"You came here because I have something you need." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Information. The most valuable currency in this world. And you..." He tapped the tablet. "You're hunting for something. Or someone."
My hand tightened on the coffee cup. "What makes you think that?"
"Because I know what desperation looks like." He pulled the tablet back. "You're not grinding for levels. You're not trying to join a guild. You're not following any normal hunter's progression path. You're in a hurry."
Shit. He was too perceptive.
"Let me tell you what I think," he continued. "I think something scared you. Something big enough to make you change everything about how you approach hunting. And now you're racing against a clock only you can see."
Silence stretched between us.
"How close am I?" he asked.
"Close enough to be dangerous."
That got a real smile. "Good. I like working with intelligent people." He pulled out a second tablet and set it on the table. "So let's talk business. I have information. You have... whatever the hell you are. We can help each other."
I looked at the tablet. The screen showed a news article from earlier today:
MYSTERIOUS GATE SURGE IN GANGNAM DISTRICTHunter Association investigating unusual gate formations...
"Gates don't surge randomly," the Shadow Broker said. "There's always a pattern. Always a reason. And I've found it."
He swiped to a map. Dozens of red dots scattered across Seoul, each one marking a recent gate appearance.
"Look familiar?"
I studied the pattern. And my blood ran cold. Because I did recognize it. In my original timeline, this pattern had appeared in late 2025—eight months from now. It was the precursor to the Gangnam Incident, a C-rank gate break that killed forty-seven hunters and nearly a thousand civilians.
But it was happening now. Four months early.
"You see it too," the Shadow Broker said, watching my face. "The formation. It's building toward something."
"A gate break," I said quietly. "Gangnam district. Within two weeks."
His eyes widened fractionally. "How could you possibly—"
"How much for the exact location and timing?"
He stared at me for a long moment. "You're not guessing. You know."
"Do we have a deal or not?"
"That information..." He calculated. "Five million won. And you tell me how you knew."
In my original timeline, I would've spent months saving for that kind of money. Now?
"I'll pay ten million. And you don't ask questions."
The Shadow Broker leaned back, reassessing me. "You're either very rich or very stupid."
"I'm neither. But I am serious." I pulled out my phone and showed him my account. The 1,000 gold from the Silverwood Den had converted to just over 15 million won. "Half now. Half when you deliver."
He looked at the number. Then at me.
"You know something," he said slowly. "Something big. Big enough that you're willing to throw around money like this."
"Yes or no?"
Another long silence.
"Yes," he said finally. "But I want something else too."
"Of course you do."
"When whatever you're preparing for happens—when the thing that scared you so badly comes to pass—I want first access to the information. Before the Association. Before the guilds. Before anyone."
I thought about the Crimson Tower. The Great Collapse. The twenty years of war. If the Shadow Broker survived—and he had in my original timeline—he could be invaluable. His information network had saved my life more than once.
"Deal. But only if you swear to keep my secrets."
"My business is built on discretion, Mr. Han. Your secrets are safe." He extended his hand. "Partners?"
I shook it. His grip was firm. Businesslike.
"Good. Now, about that gate surge..." He pulled up detailed analysis on his tablet. "The pattern suggests a confluence point here." He pointed to a location in Gangnam. "Underground shopping center. Third basement level. The gates will sync in approximately eleven days."
Eleven days. In my original timeline, it had been fourteen. Timeline was accelerating.
"Can you get me building schematics? Evacuation routes? Security schedules?"
"For another two million, yes."
"Done."
He raised an eyebrow. "You're not even going to negotiate?"
"Time is money. I'm short on one and temporarily flush with the other."
"Interesting." He made notes on his tablet. "I'll have everything ready in three days. Will that suffice?"
"It'll have to." I stood. "One more thing. I need information on someone."
"Of course you do. Name?"
I hesitated. Then: "Kim Sung-Chul."
The Shadow Broker's fingers froze mid-type. "The Phoenix Guild assassin?"
"You know him?"
"Everyone in the information business knows him. Rising star. C-rank, level 37. Specializes in shadow techniques. Guild Master Choi is grooming him for vice-master position." He looked up. "Why do you want information on him?"
Because in five years, he's going to betray everyone and kill my best friend.
"Call it a hunch. Can you do it?"
"I can do anything for the right price. But I'll warn you—digging into guild members, especially ones being groomed for leadership, attracts attention."
"How much attention can you avoid?"
He smiled. "For five million? I can be very discreet."
I was burning through money fast. But it was worth it. I needed to know if Sung-Chul's betrayal was inevitable or if there was still time to prevent it.
"Do it. Three days."
"You'll have everything." He stood and offered his hand again. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Han. I have a feeling this is the beginning of a very profitable relationship."
I shook his hand and turned to leave.
"Oh, and Mr. Han?"
I looked back.
"Whatever you're preparing for—whatever disaster you're trying to prevent—I hope you succeed." His expression was serious. "Because people who move like you? They're either running toward something or running from something. And given how fast you're moving..."
"The thing you're running from must be absolutely terrifying."
I didn't answer. Just walked out into the night.
My phone buzzed the moment I stepped outside.
Tae-Sung: "Yo, you alive? The whole hunter community is losing their shit about your clear. There's a betting pool on whether you're a hidden genius or just got lucky."
I smiled despite myself and typed back: "What are you betting?"
His reply came instantly: "That you're either crazy, brilliant, or both. Maybe I'll find out when we run that dungeon together? Still on for next week?"
"Yeah. I'll text you when I'm free."
Another message popped up. Unknown number:
"Impressive performance today. We should talk. —General Hwang"
My chest tightened. General Hwang. The man who'd die defending Seoul in 2027. The man who'd become like a father to me in my original timeline.
I stared at the message for a long moment before replying:
"I'm honored, General. But I'm not interested in Association positions right now. Thank you for the recognition."
His response was almost immediate:
"I'm not recruiting. I'm warning. You've attracted dangerous attention. Watch your back."
I frowned. Dangerous attention? Before I could reply, my phone rang. Unknown number.
"Han Do-Hyun." A woman's voice. Cold. Professional. Slightly mechanical. "This is an automated message from the Hunter Association Emergency Response Division. You have been flagged for unusual activity and power growth. Please report to Association headquarters within 48 hours for mandatory evaluation. Failure to comply will result in license suspension."
The call ended. I stared at the phone. They were investigating me. Of course they were. In my original timeline, hunters who grew too fast were always suspected of using illegal enhancement items or making deals with dungeon entities.
I'd have to be careful. Couldn't afford to lose my license. But I also couldn't afford to stop growing stronger.
[NEW QUEST: SHADOW GAMES]
You have entered the world of information brokers and secret deals. Navigate carefully—one wrong move could expose your secrets.
Objective: Prevent the Gangnam Gate Break Time Limit: 11 days Reward: ??? Failure: 1,000+ civilian casualties, Fate Distortion +20%
[WARNING]Multiple factions are now watching you. Your actions will have consequences.
Eleven days to prevent a disaster that would kill a thousand people in my original timeline. But I had advantages now. I knew where it would happen. When. I had the Shadow Broker working for me. I had better gear, better skills, better stats than before.
I could do this. I would do this.
My phone buzzed again. Another unknown number. This was getting ridiculous.
"If this is another guild recruitment—"
"It's not." Male voice. Young. Nervous. "Mr. Han? My name is Lee Jin-Woo. I'm a reporter for Hunter Weekly. I'd like to interview you about your record-breaking clear. Our readers would love to—"
I hung up. My phone immediately buzzed with three more calls. All blocked numbers. Word was spreading faster than I'd anticipated. By tomorrow, my face would be all over hunter forums and news sites. Privacy was about to become a luxury I couldn't afford.
I needed to get home. Rest. Recover. Allocate my stat points. Absorb the Advanced Mana Circulation skill book. Prepare for the evaluation at the Association.
But first...
I pulled out the Spirit Guardian's Heart from my inventory. A fist-sized crystal that pulsed with silver-green light. Legendary crafting material. In my original timeline, items like this were worth hundreds of millions. Could be used to craft artifacts, enhance existing equipment, or even consumed to permanently increase stats.
Old Man Cho would know what to do with it.
I pocketed it and started walking toward the subway. That's when I felt it. Someone was watching me. Not the casual observation of curious hunters or reporters. This was different. Focused. Predatory.
My danger sense flared—barely a tingle, but enough.
I kept walking, maintaining my pace, but my hand drifted toward my sword. I activated Spirit Sight, and the world shifted.
There. Two figures on the rooftop across the street. Their spiritual signatures were muted, suppressed by some kind of stealth skill, but I could see them now. Both D-rank. Both armed. Both tracking my movement.
Hunters? Assassins? Guild scouts? No way to know without confronting them.
I turned down a side alley—darker, more isolated. If they were hostile, better to deal with them away from civilians. They followed. Of course they did.
The alley opened into a small courtyard behind an abandoned building. Perfect. Enclosed. No witnesses. I stopped walking and turned around.
The two figures dropped from the rooftops, landing softly. Both wore dark clothing and masks. Professional.
"Han Do-Hyun," the first one said. Male. Young, maybe mid-twenties. "We need to talk."
"Funny. Everyone seems to need to talk tonight." I didn't draw my sword. Not yet. "Who sent you?"
"That's not important."
"It is to me."
The second figure—female, based on the build—stepped forward. "You're attracting the wrong kind of attention. People are asking questions. Making connections. You need to disappear for a while."
"That a threat?"
"A warning." The man's hand moved toward his weapon. "Walk away from the hunter scene. Stop making waves. Go back to being nobody."
"And if I don't?"
"Then you'll have an accident. Gate malfunction. Monster attack. These things happen." His tone was almost regretful. "We'd prefer not to waste potential talent, but our employer is very clear. You're becoming a problem."
I laughed. Actually laughed.
"You find this funny?" the woman asked.
"Hilarious. See, I spent twenty years fighting demons that could level cities. Demon Generals. Corrupted S-ranks. An entire demon army." I drew my sword. The blade gleamed in the moonlight. "And you two D-rank goons think you're going to scare me with vague threats?"
They exchanged glances.
"He's delusional," the man said.
"Or confident," the woman replied. "Either way, we have our orders."
They moved. Fast. Coordinated. Professional. The man came in low, daggers flashing. The woman circled, bow drawn, arrow nocked.
I sidestepped the dagger thrust and brought my sword up in a defensive arc. The man was skilled—better technique than most D-ranks. But he telegraphed his strikes half a second before executing them.
Predictable.
I let him overextend on a lunge, trapped his wrist, and slammed my elbow into his temple. He staggered. The arrow came from behind. I sensed it with Danger Sense, twisted, and the arrow passed through where my head had been.
"Nice try."
I closed the distance to the archer. She tried to retreat, firing two more arrows in quick succession. I deflected one with my blade, dodged the other, and was on her in three steps. She dropped the bow and drew short swords. Good instincts.
We exchanged a flurry of strikes. She was fast—agility build—but I'd fought opponents like her for years. I knew the patterns. Knew the openings.
A feint. A pivot. My blade at her throat. "Drop it."
She hesitated. Behind me, I heard the man getting up. I didn't turn. Didn't need to. His spiritual signature was lighting up like a beacon in Spirit Sight.
"Both of you. Weapons down. Now."
The man's dagger clattered to the ground. The woman's swords followed.
"Good. Now we talk like civilized people." I stepped back, keeping both in my line of sight. "Who sent you?"
"We can't—"
"Wrong answer." I pressed the blade against the woman's collar. "I'm not feeling particularly patient tonight. Someone sent two assassins after me less than six hours after a public dungeon clear. That means they were already watching. Already planning. Already decided I was a threat."
I looked between them. "So I'm going to ask one more time: Who. Sent. You."
The man and woman exchanged another glance. Some kind of silent communication.
Finally, the man spoke: "We don't know names. We get contracts through an intermediary. Anonymous employer. Payment in advance. All we know is someone wants you gone before you get too strong."
"That's not very helpful."
"That's all we have," the woman said. "We're professionals. We don't ask questions."
I studied them. They were telling the truth. Or at least, they believed they were. Which meant someone with money and connections had decided I was dangerous.
The question was: who?
In my original timeline, I hadn't attracted this kind of attention until much later. I'd been careful. Methodical. Kept my head down. But now, by breaking records and making noise, I'd painted a target on my back.
"Listen carefully," I said. "You're going to go back to your intermediary and deliver a message. Tell them Han Do-Hyun doesn't scare easily. Tell them if they send anyone else, I won't be as gentle."
I lowered my sword. "Now get out of here before I change my mind."
They didn't need to be told twice. They grabbed their weapons and vanished into the shadows.
I stood there for a moment, processing. This was bad. An unknown enemy with resources to hire assassins. Someone who knew about my rapid growth and saw it as a threat. Could be a rival guild. Could be someone in the Association. Could be anyone.
I needed more information. I pulled out my phone and texted the Shadow Broker:
"Someone just tried to have me killed. I need to know who's buying assassination contracts in Seoul. Price is no object."
His reply came within minutes: "I'll look into it. But Mr. Han? This is going to cost considerably more than our previous arrangements. Information about active assassination contracts is... delicate."
"Name your price."
"Twenty million won. And you owe me a favor."
I hesitated. A favor to the Shadow Broker was potentially more expensive than any amount of money. But I needed to know who was after me.
"Deal. How long?"
"Three days. Same as the other information. I'll bundle everything together."
"Fine."
I pocketed my phone and started walking again. Three days. In three days, I'd know who wanted me dead, where the Gangnam gate break would happen, and what Kim Sung-Chul was really up to. In eleven days, I'd prevent a disaster.
And somehow, in between all that, I'd have to deal with the Hunter Association evaluation, avoid getting assassinated again, and continue getting stronger.
No pressure.
I looked up at the night sky. Stars were barely visible through Seoul's light pollution. In my original timeline, by 2027, those stars would be hidden by the smoke from burning cities.
But not this time. This time, I'd change everything. Even if it killed me. Again.
I made it home without further incident. My apartment looked exactly as I'd left it—small, cramped, barely furnished. But it was mine. Safe. Private.
I collapsed on my bed and pulled up my status window.
[STATUS]
Name: Han Do-Hyun | Rank: D | Level: 20
Stats: Strength: 27 (+5 from Ring) Agility: 24 (+5 from Ring) Endurance: 24 (+5 from Ring) Mana: 17 (+5 from Ring) Luck: 13 (+5 from Ring)
Available Stat Points: 20
Skills: [Intermediate Sword Mastery Lv.1], [Danger Sense Lv.1], [Mana Circulation Lv.1], [Spirit Sight Lv.1]
Twenty stat points to allocate. I needed to think strategically. The Gangnam gate break would involve C-rank monsters at minimum. My current stats were decent for D-rank, but I'd be massively outclassed.
I allocated them:
Strength: 27 → 32 (+5)
Agility: 24 → 31 (+7)
Mana: 17 → 25 (+8)
I felt the power flow through me immediately. Muscles tightened. Reflexes sharpened. My mana pool expanded like a balloon filling with water.
Next, I pulled out the Advanced Mana Circulation skill book and activated it. The book dissolved into light, and knowledge poured into my mind—complex breathing patterns, energy flow optimization, and meditation techniques.
[SKILL UPGRADED][Mana Circulation Lv.1] → [Advanced Mana Circulation Lv.1]
Your mana efficiency has improved dramatically.
Effect: Mana consumption reduced by 25%.
Effect: Mana regeneration increased by 40%.
Passive: You can now sense and manipulate ambient mana.
Immediately, I felt the difference. The ambient mana in the air—usually invisible, intangible—became perceptible. Like breathing in a room full of static electricity. I could pull on it. Draw it into my body. Supplement my own mana pool.
With Advanced Mana Circulation, I could fight longer, use skills more frequently, recover faster. My biggest weakness—mana capacity—had just become manageable.
I closed my eyes and practiced the breathing technique. Inhale. Pull ambient mana. Exhale. Cycle it through my body. Repeat. My mana pool began to refill. Slowly, but steadily. In an hour, I was back to 100% mana. Normally, that would take half a day of rest.
I smiled. Getting stronger was addictive.
But I couldn't afford to get comfortable. I had eleven days to prepare for the Gangnam gate break. Two days to prepare for the Association evaluation. Three days before the Shadow Broker delivered crucial information.
Sleep could wait.
I stood, grabbed my sword, and started drilling forms. My body moved smoothly now. The disconnect between mind and muscle was almost gone. I wasn't at my peak yet—not even close—but I was getting there. [Intermediate Sword Mastery Lv.1] felt natural. Every strike, every parry, every technique flowed like water.
An hour passed. Then two. Then three.
My phone buzzed around 2 AM. I checked it, expecting another reporter or guild scout. Instead, it was a message from an unknown number:
"We're watching you, Han Do-Hyun. You're playing with forces you don't understand. Stop now, or suffer the consequences."
I deleted the message and went back to training. Let them watch. Let them threaten. I'd faced worse than vague intimidation tactics.
I'd faced the end of the world. And this time, I wasn't backing down.