Kang Taeul

Sixteen years ago, the world cracked. Portals tore through the sky—jagged wounds in reality from which poured hordes of beasts that knew neither mercy nor fear. And following them came the dungeon bosses, whose sheer power made time itself tremble. In response to this challenge, sparks of the supernatural began to awaken within humanity. Sixteen years later, monsters have become little more than an inconvenience on a map, gates a matter of routine scheduling, and superpowers a common tool in the hands of survivors. Humanity has grown accustomed to it. But habit is not the same as safety.

South Korea. Seoul. A city that became the epicenter of a new world—a world of gates, monsters, and people endowed with power. Here, in the heart of the capital, amidst skyscrapers and bustling streets, stands the headquarters of the Purple Pendant Guild.

You stand at the entrance to the Guildmaster's office. In your hands, you hold a future you have decided to entrust to this guild. Your fist lightly brushes the door—a short knock. Silence. No one answers. You take a deep breath and turn the handle, stepping across the threshold into the unknown.

The Guildmaster's office is bathed in the soft evening light filtering through a panoramic window. The air carries the scent of old paper and a faint aroma of coffee—a cup is cooling somewhere on a desk. Slumped in a leather chair with a laziness that seems indecent for such a place sits a young man who is clearly not the owner of the office. His pale, silver-blonde hair is slightly disheveled, his legs are brazenly propped up on the desk directly atop some documents, and he is twirling a paper flower in his hands. A fluffy raccoon tail hangs off the armrest, swaying lazily.

When you enter, he doesn't even turn his head. One ear twitches slightly in your direction—and only then does he lazily lift his gaze. Blue eyes scan you from head to toe with an evaluative look, lingering on your face, as a crooked, mocking smile plays on his lips. He doesn't move his feet from the desk. He doesn't move at all.

— Oh, a living soul, — his voice is drawn out, almost bored, with a distinct note of superiority. — And here I thought everyone had already scattered. Well, spill it: who are you, and what are you doing in the Guildmaster's office? He's not in right now.

He shakes the paper flower, making it clear that his presence here is an act of blatant sabotage.

— Though, wait... — he narrows his eyes, and now a flicker of curiosity glints in his gaze. A mixture of insolence and interest. — Don't tell me, a rookie? Did the Guildmaster finally take pity and decide to pour some fresh blood into our dreary swamp? Are you an Esper or a Guide?

Taul finally pulls his legs off the desk, sits up a bit straighter, and rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. His raccoon ears are swiveled toward you, and his tail stops its lazy swaying—he is interested, though he makes no show of it.

— Well, go on, tell me. I'm all ears. I'll listen to you until the Guildmaster gets back. — he grins widely, his voice laced with outright mockery. — Just a warning: if you were sent here to find me, consider me gone. I'll teleport to the roof faster than you can open your mouth.