Park Yeon's mouth stretched into a wide grin.

'The first money I've ever earned...!'

This ten-thousand-won bill held great significance for him.

Aside from the allowance he received from the two brothers who took him in, this was the first money he had ever earned on Earth.

'I'll use this to buy Seo-woo some snacks.'

Meanwhile.

The two of them arrived at Lee Sook-hee's house.

“Oh my, even the strange young man is here.”

“I'm not strange.”

“You're strange.”

Seo-jun spoke up.

“He said he’d help, so I brought him along.”

“Good thinking. Three people working together is always better than two. Come on in.”

Upon entering, they saw the cabbage that had been drained of water overnight and the kimchi seasoning that Lee Sook-hee had prepared.

“You must have had a hard time doing all this by yourself. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for…? My grandson and I have been indebted to you so many times, haven't we? If I can repay even a little through this, I’m actually grateful.”

“For the record, Jinmyung is also indebted to me.”

“Huh? Jinmyung owes the strange young man too?”

“I generously taught Jinmyung advanced martial ar—”

Seo-jun sealed Park Yeon's mouth shut.

Silencing someone isn’t difficult.

By wrapping intangible energy around their mouth, the pressure naturally prevents them from speaking.

“Why did you stop talking all of a sudden?”

“I once made Jinmyung some instant noodles, and he’s just exaggerating it. Don’t pay any attention to him.”

“Ah… I see. Still, how could I not be grateful? Thank you.”

To change the subject, Seo-jun approached the red basin filled with kimchi seasoning.

The bright red seasoning alone looked delicious.

“You used salted seafood as well.”

“Huh? How did you know?”

Seo-jun had extremely refined senses. There was no scent he couldn't detect.

“I can faintly smell it.”

“That’s right. I used anchovy sauce and shrimp sauce. Want to try it?”

“May I?”

“Of course.”

Lee Sook-hee scooped a bit of seasoning onto a spoon and handed it to him.

After tasting it, Seo-jun couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.

“It has a nice, spicy kick.”

“That’s a relief.”

“But the fermented seafood smell isn’t very strong.”

With two types of salted seafood included, he had expected a stronger, more pungent aroma.

While there was a faint scent, it wasn’t overwhelming.

“That’s because of cheonggak.”

“Cheonggak?”

“If you add cheonggak, it removes the fishy smell and gives a refreshing taste.”

“I see.”

Once again, Seo-jun felt he had made the right choice in asking Lee Sook-hee for help.

The three of them immediately began preparing for the kimchi-making process.

Park Yeon, who was new to kimchi-making, needed a bit of additional explanation.

With all preparations complete, the three of them started mixing the kimchi.

They had started in the morning, but the kimchi-making process wasn’t finished until lunchtime.

It had been a grueling five-hour effort, but it wasn’t boring.

“Back in the day, making a few hundred heads of kimchi at a time wasn’t unusual. It was tough then, but… thinking about it now, those were good times.”

“Come to think of it, my late husband preferred my family's kimchi over his mother’s. Even my mother-in-law tasted it once and decided to use the same method the next year.”

Thanks to Lee Sook-hee’s unexpectedly talkative nature, the time passed quickly. Perhaps she had been lonely, as she kept up a steady stream of conversation.

“Oh my, look at me! The boiled pork is ready.”

She got up and headed to the kitchen.

Seo-jun had already bought some pork belly before coming to her house.

After all, kimchi-making wouldn’t be complete without boiled pork.

Of course, he could have used Krexseg pork belly instead, but since it had been a long time since he last made kimchi, he wanted to fully enjoy the traditional experience.

Lee Sook-hee returned carrying a tray.

Though the tray only held steaming white rice and boiled pork, it was more than enough.

Freshly made kimchi and boiled pork—this alone was a feast.

At her urging, Seo-jun picked up his spoon.

His first bite was, naturally, the combination of white rice and kimchi.

He scooped up a spoonful of steaming rice and laid a piece of freshly made kimchi on top before taking a big bite.

Crunch!

The crisp texture of the freshly made cabbage kimchi first resonated through his ears, followed by the sharp spiciness dancing on his taste buds.

As the spice spread throughout his mouth, the mild flavor of the rice balanced it out.

‘Delicious.’

Unknowingly, Seo-jun smiled.

This was true happiness—not something extravagant, but simply eating good food.

Next, he reached for the boiled pork.

Picking up a perfectly sliced piece, he then grabbed some kimchi. The key here was that, instead of the firm inner leaves, he preferred wrapping the pork with the outer leaves.

It was a matter of personal taste, but he found that wrapping meat in the outer leaves made for the best combination.

With the pork wrapped snugly in the kimchi, he took a bite.

Unlike the previous rice-and-kimchi combination, this one had a completely different depth of flavor.

Before he knew it, Seo-jun had emptied an entire bowl of rice in an instant.

The once-crowded 12-K98 Gate, packed with reporters and onlookers, had been cleared out under government control.

In the now-quiet 12-K98 Gate, Kim Chul-jun and Lee Myung-seop appeared.

Kim Chul-jun spoke.

“I’ll say this again: if the gate shows any abnormal reactions, I won’t be responsible.”

“No need to worry about that. That’s why we brought the safety team, isn’t it?”

Lee Myung-seop gestured to the personnel standing behind him.

In general, Awakened individuals belonged to one of two groups:

The government and the private sector.

The government Awakened were, as the name suggested, affiliated with government agencies like the Bureau of Management.

The private sector consisted of guilds.

Of course, the pay offered by the guilds was bound to be higher than what the government provided.

As a result, most Awakened chose to join guilds.

With such a stark difference in pay, the disparity in skill levels between government-affiliated and privately-affiliated Awakened was inevitable.

The Awakened standing behind Lee Myung-seop were also government-affiliated.

However, to Chul-jun’s eye, they didn’t seem particularly outstanding.

‘Well, they’ll figure it out themselves.’

Worst case, they could always seek cooperation from nearby guilds.

Chul-jun stepped forward toward the gate, under the watchful eyes of authorized reporters and Bureau staff.

‘Whoever set this up did a decent job.’

Normally, barriers emitted a blue or bluish glow.

However, the 12-K98 gate showed no light at all.

That meant it had been created by a high-level barrier master.

‘Not that it matters—it’s still just a barrier.’

Even a barrier created by a high-level barrier master was nothing to Chul-jun.

It wasn’t baseless confidence.

No matter how strong a barrier was, it was still just a supplementary defense.

Like a safe, in a way.

And just like a safe, a barrier could be smashed or cut open.

Gooooo—!

The air around Chul-jun began to ripple violently.

He had gathered pure ether into both his fists.

Once he was ready, he struck.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The authorized reporters, startled by the deafening explosions, widened their eyes before hastily starting to record.

“Incredible… I’ve watched raid videos on Entube before, but I never imagined this level of destructive power.”

“With power like that, there’s nothing he can’t break.”

“Come on, this is Kim Chul-jun. The guy who took down a Hydra. You really think he can’t break a single barrier?”

While the reporters marveled from afar at his overwhelming strength, Chul-jun himself was utterly bewildered.

‘What the hell!’

Boom! Boom!

Each punch delivered a heavy impact.

And with each impact, the barrier trembled as if it was about to shatter.

The problem was—it only trembled.

“Huff… Huff…”

Eventually, Chul-jun came to a stop, panting heavily.

“Why did he stop?”

“Maybe it’s already broken?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. You don’t think… he couldn’t break it?”

“No way.”

“Still, just in case, make sure to get a good angle. If he really can’t break it, this is the scoop of the century.”

The murmurs of the reporters made Chul-jun pause.

He could already see the headlines flashing before his eyes.

‘Damn it.’

If he couldn’t smash it, he’d cut through it.

If a safe wouldn’t break, you could always carve it open.

Chul-jun drew his sword.

It was the legendary Edeus Blade, appraised at a staggering 320 billion won.

A weapon he rarely used except against major boss monsters, for fear of wearing down its durability.

Recognizing the sword, the reporters’ cameras flashed wildly.

Chul-jun focused all his senses on the blade and the barrier.

‘I’ll end this in one strike.’

With that resolve, a dazzling aura surged from the blade’s tip.

“Aura…”

“What are you waiting for? Start filming!”

Ignoring the reporters’ frantic shouting, Chul-jun swung his sword diagonally.

BOOM!

A deafening explosion erupted, followed by a thick cloud of smoke.

Chul-jun instinctively felt it.

He had broken the barrier!

At least, that’s what he thought before the smoke cleared.

“What the…? It’s still intact?”

“Did he fail?”

“No way.”

“Look at Kim Chul-jun’s face. He looks completely dazed.”

“Hey! Cameraman! Zoom in on his face, now!”

Kim Chul-jun’s failure to break the barrier.

The shocking news shook the entire nation.

After pressing the enter key to send his article to the editorial team, Lee Moon-Ik stretched his arms.

“Finally done.”

Busy days were the norm for frontline reporters, but today had been especially hectic.

Since the crack of dawn, he had rushed to the 12-K98 gate, secured an interview with a Bureau staff member he knew, and then wrote his article.

But there was no time to rest.

Because right after, Kim Chul-jun had begun his barrier-breaking attempt.

“Lee, did you send your article to the editors?”

It was a reporter from another newspaper, someone he had gotten to know back when he covered the Bureau.

“Yeah, just now. I’m dead tired.”

“Looks like it. Your dark circles are practically down to your chin.”

“How about you, Choi?”

“I just sent mine, too. Who would’ve thought Kim Chul-jun would fail?”

“Seriously.”

“A bunch of us are grabbing dinner to celebrate wrapping up our articles. Wanna join?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Alright, see you next time.”

As the other reporter waved and left, Lee Moon-Ik packed up his laptop and stood up.

Growl!

Having skipped breakfast to rush to the site, his stomach was now demanding food.

‘I wonder if it’s open now.’

He usually only visited late in the afternoon or at night, so he wasn’t sure if it’d be open this early.

Still, hoping for the best, he headed to his go-to pub, Have a Drink.

His face brightened.

The lights were on.

“Reporter Lee?”

Just then, Seo-jun spotted him.

“Oh, boss. You opened early today.”

“I always start preparations around this time.”

“Ah… So you’re not open yet?”

“Technically, no. But you’re an exception. You came for a meal, didn’t you?”

“How did you know?”

Seo-jun chuckled.

Even if Moon-Ik himself hadn’t noticed, his stomach had been growling like thunder.

“At this hour, what else would a reporter be doing here if not for food? Come in. I just got back from making kimchi.”