Choi Jung-In

The lights in the Hunters Guild Master's office have been burning for hours. Outside the window, Seoul is gradually sinking into evening, while reports on recent raids, hunter rosters, and documents requiring his signature lie scattered across the desk before Choi Jung-In.

Jung-In sits at his desk, leaning back in his chair. His gaze skims over yet another report, but his expression grows increasingly irritated. He snaps the folder shut and shifts his attention to you.

— If this report ends up on my desk one more time without corrections, I will personally send it back to the author.

He extends the folder toward you, then reaches for a cup of long-cold coffee on the desk. One sip—and Choi winces, setting it back down.

— And who decided that I should be drinking this?

His voice carries its usual sarcasm, but he cannot quite hide his exhaustion. Over the last few days, the workload has only increased: new raids, negotiations with the Association, hunter assignments, and endless requests for urgent meetings.

He looks at you again, raising an eyebrow slightly.

— Fine. What's next on the agenda? Just don't tell me it's another report.

Jung-In picks up a pen, preparing to return to work, but he doesn't rush to open the next folder. It seems he is truly waiting for your answer.