Chapter 3

“Haa…”

After finishing his shower and changing into comfortable clothes, Sanhwa let out a sigh as he sat down at the dining table.

Thanks to his son’s cooking, his palate had become too refined.

That’s why, whenever he met clients, he always found himself searching for good restaurants. But cheap, delicious, and clean places weren’t exactly common.

“Didn’t you say you’d be home late today?”

“That’s what I thought too, but turns out I was wrong.”

“Hoh, got dumped, huh?”

“Yeah, she rejected me hard… and then suddenly asked me to be her comrade.”

“That’s… a new one. I really don’t get how kids these days think.”

“I thought I did, but I guess I don’t either.”

Sanhwa raised an imaginary toast to his son’s first heartbreak.

His son was always a bit of an old soul, so seeing this unfamiliar, raw side of him was a rare treat. Of course, the boy’s confidence—though usually well-founded—was often a little too much.

“For a man to sit around waiting for a confession… that’s embarrassing.”

“But I’ve got the skills to justify it, don’t I?”

“If you want to survive in society, you need to know humility too.”

“Please. If you’ve got skills, even if you take a dump in the office, they’ll still keep you.”

“Son, reality doesn’t always play out like in the movies.”

Maybe it could if you were truly exceptional, but Sanhwa firmly rejected that line of thought.

Even though this was his own son, he still needed to keep him in check—because knowing the boy, he might actually try it.

And surprisingly, the usually cold, unflappable Mujin was visibly excited. So much so that it almost didn’t feel like him.

“You’re unusually fired up today.”

“I guess I’m still a kid after all.”

“You may be a kid, but if you start whining in front of me, I won’t let it slide.”

“That’s cruel! I’m only sixteen, you know.”

“Yeah, right. Where?”

Sanhwa prided himself on being objective. Even as a father, he had to admit—his son’s physique outclassed that of most grown men.

Whenever they bathed together, the difference was impossible to ignore.

Where did he even get that kind of body… ahem.

Well, blood doesn’t lie.

Still, the usually quiet Mujin was unusually talkative tonight. That alone made Sanhwa tense up slightly.

His instincts told him something was up.

Just as Mujin’s body had transformed recently, Sanhwa’s senses had also sharpened. It helped him at work, but it was still something he wasn’t fully used to.

“Even if no one else believes me, you should, Dad.”

“Hmm. Fine, then go ahead and plead with me, oh precious little Crown Prince.”

“Not really.”

“Then forget it.”

“You know what I mean! Honestly, I shouldn’t have given you that transformation.”

“You’re the one who made me this way.”

The transformation had involved careful manipulation of meridian flow, so it wasn’t like the usual internal energy strengthening. There was no way to hide something like that—overnight, he’d basically gotten a new body.

“Tch, you’re enjoying it anyway.”

“Ahem! Don’t act like I ever said I wasn’t.”

Getting older was cruel. No one could fight time. Your thirties felt different, your forties changed again, and by your fifties, you inevitably started reflecting on life.

Now, though, he was more energized than in his twenties. Every morning, he stood tall.

The pride of not having “ended” as a man yet was a source of confidence. He felt smug every time his juniors at work asked what kind of supplements he was taking.

“Alright, enough beating around the bush. What’s this all about?”

“I need to repay a debt.”

“A debt? What on earth are you talking about? You’re not the type to owe anyone anything.”

“True, but… this is Jisoo’s request.”

“She dumped you and then made a request? This is getting better by the minute. Alright, what’s the favor?”

“She wants me to go to the Academy with her.”

Sanhwa’s face stiffened. His chopsticks stopped mid-air. He hadn’t expected that.

He hadn’t said anything so far, but of course—as his father, he knew what it meant.

“I don’t like it.”

“I know. But if I’ve received something, isn’t it only right to pay it back?”

“And what exactly did Jisoo do for you?”

“The transformation. And besides, the core of my martial arts is thanks to her. If not, I’ll have to spit it all back out. You okay with that?”

Mujin had never intended to sway his father with emotional tears.

Their family wasn’t the sentimental type, and his father’s reasoning was always clear and sharp. He drilled into Mujin the importance of cause and effect—of making sound decisions.

Trying to use melodrama on such a man would never work.

But appealing to his father’s distaste for unpaid debts? That was a different story.

“Can you really return it?”

“It’ll be hard, but I’ve got to try. I can’t just eat and run, can I?”

Knowing his son’s abilities, Sanhwa didn’t doubt that he could pull it off. Mujin never bothered hiding his skills at home.

“Haa… you’ve cornered me!”

“See? That’s why you shouldn’t just eat whatever I give you.”

“You forced me to eat it!”

“Hey, I’m a filial son, remember!”

If he’d been completely unaware, that would’ve been one thing—

but Sanhwa had already tasted the vigor of newfound youth.

That made it nearly impossible to refuse Mujin’s carefully laid trap.

When had his son grown up enough to strike him from behind like this? It left him frustrated, cornered with no escape.

Ahhh— it melts, melts!

Of all things, the braised beef was melting in his mouth.

[Mujin-Style Signature Braised Beef]

— One bite, and you’ll both die happy.

It was impossible to separate sentiment from flavor. And it’s not like his son was extorting him either—it was just that the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

“I can’t believe a kid who grew up on my money turned out this big.”

“I’ll buy you a cruise ship.”

“Forget it, you punk.”

“No, seriously. I will.”

To anyone listening, it might have sounded like he was talking about a car, but Mujin meant an actual cruise ship.

He didn’t think it would be that hard either.

Even if there weren’t many standards to measure himself against, he was confident his current abilities would hold up anywhere.

Even mid-tier Hunters reportedly earned billions of won annually. Sure, after taxes and deductions, it got cut in half—but still.

“So what, you want me to stop meddling and go on a nice long trip?”

“It’s not like I’m saying right now.”

“People who hear this would say I’ve got it easy.”

“That’s how it usually goes.”

“Filial piety can’t be forced, you know.”

“Uh-oh, sounds like you’re entering your chuunibyou phase.”

Sanhwa didn’t dismiss his son’s bold words as empty boasts.

Mujin was a stubborn kid who always did exactly what he said he would. He’d always made the best decisions without needing anyone to guide him, which sometimes made Sanhwa feel guilty.

This was the first time his son had ever chosen something for himself. He spoke of “give and take,” but there was a fire in his eyes that Sanhwa had never seen before.

‘I guess there’s no stopping this.’

It wasn’t something that could be dissuaded anyway—

and undoing the effects of transformation was out of the question.

“Making the decision beforehand and then declaring it—that’s basically blackmail.”

“I didn’t expect Jisoo to say that either.”

“You think I can’t see right through you?”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Even if no one else knows, I do.”

“Don’t say the obvious like it’s profound.”

He hadn’t tried to hide anything, but Mujin always wanted to be honest with his father. And he knew—once he showed his sincerity, his father would inevitably give permission.

“Just don’t get yourself hurt.”

“Honestly, I’m more worried about you, Dad.”

“You brat, I’m still going strong.”

“What about the braised beef? I can’t make it for you that often.”

“...You wouldn’t dare!”

“I’m kidding.”

“Missing one meal won’t kill me.”

“One meal becomes two… then three, then four.”

“You annoying little—!”

Sanhwa tried to act indifferent, but he was already polishing off the entire dish.

His body was honest, even if his mind tried to resist.

Mujin’s secret seasoning was addictive—like culinary cocaine. They said a new type of cocaine was causing trouble these days, but with his son’s special sauce, even that might be cured.

“Still, you need to keep training.”

“Training? Me? Why?”

“Think about it. I’ll be a Hunter. Obviously, I won’t be ordinary, and anyone trying to mess with me won’t gain anything. But you’re different. Villains targeting family members is basically a national rule.”

“Hah, so you do plan to get into dangerous work?”

“I’m saying we should be prepared for the worst. Fortunately, you’re an orphan, Dad. For me, that actually makes things simpler compared to others.”

“You’re stabbing me with a knife while smiling.”

“That’s why it wasn’t hard to decide.”

Both his father and late mother had grown up as orphans.

In a way, they were the textbook definition of self-made success stories: they’d overcome hardship, built stable careers, and achieved social success.

And raising such an extraordinary son was their greatest pride.

The more people you have to protect, the more restrictions you face.

For now, Mujin only had to protect his father—

and within a certain distance, that wasn’t going to be hard.

That’s why Mujin needed to start training his special attributes as soon as possible and focus on acquiring powerful items.

He had seen the effectiveness of Jisoo’s spatial item with his own eyes—and he wanted it.

And if it was for his father, there was nothing he wouldn’t do.

“Life sure isn’t smooth sailing.”

“Just think of it as exercising for your health. You’ve got to live until at least 300.”

“It’s still the age of living to 100, you brat!”

“And what about your pension?”

“...Well, that’s true.”

Even though his father’s body had been restored to its optimal state through transformation, it would be wasted if he didn’t train it.

More importantly, in this brutal Age of Awakening, maintaining your body was the bare minimum required for survival.

Falling asleep for a moment and waking up trapped in a dungeon was practically a national rule nowadays.

And if he got whisked away to another world on top of that… what then?

‘I’ve got to get some sss-rank items too.’

Mujin planned to ensure his father’s complete safety by the time he graduated from the Academy.

By then, he intended to fully gear him up—full equipment, every slot filled.

For the sake of “manners,” his goal was to outfit his father in a full-option, tailored formal suit with an all-directional defense system.

“I heard there are even items that make you look more handsome.”

“Isn’t that basically fraud?”

“By that logic, plastic surgery is fraud too.”

“...You and that mouth of yours.”

Mujin didn’t see anything wrong with cosmetic surgery.

The desire to look beautiful or handsome was human instinct. And, as the saying goes, a rice cake that looks good tastes good too.

Personality often followed appearance—people who were stressed about their looks from a young age naturally developed sharp edges in their character.

“Let’s aim for a thousand years of cultivation.”

“...A thousand what?”

“A thousand years of cultivation!”

“As far as I know, even the current heads of the Seven Great Clans haven’t surpassed five gapsa.”

“So?”

“I’m a salaryman, you know.”

“Exactly. Stamina is essential for salarymen.”

The legendary salaryman Sanhwa tried to reason with his son.

If Mujin wasn’t deliberately trying to break him, he’d certainly crossed the line of common sense.

“What is this, negotiating with fists?”

Damn it—it might actually work.

No, he couldn’t let himself fall for his son’s nonsense.

“Three gapsa.”

“Six gapsa!”

“Damn it, four!”

“Five and a half.”

The father and son ended up staying up all night to settle this particular debate.

After exhausting a fair amount of mental energy, they finally compromised at five gapsa.

And yet, Sanhwa couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d somehow been tricked.

“Son, don’t lose your nerve.”

“Do I look like the type who would?”

“Don’t ever back down because of me.”

“I know.”

This is why I respect my father.