Kim Kyung-hwan wasted no time in setting up a meeting with Hwang Soo-rim. They met in a park, the same place where they had discussed Eraser’s identity before.
Sitting side by side on a bench, they discreetly kept their bodyguards at a distance. Hwang Soo-rim had taken precautions to ensure their conversation remained private, creating a sound barrier around them. Once she confirmed their privacy, Kim Kyung-hwan spoke up.
“Government knows Eraser’s–!” he blurted out.
Hwang Soo-rim quickly interjected, “Hold on.”
She took the lead in the conversation, explaining, “Considering the circumstances, I thought it best to inform you first. It’s possible that Eraser can now hear our conversation.”
“What?” Kim Kyung-hwan, taken aback, asked.
Hwang Soo-rim clarified, “The last time we met and discussed Eraser being human, he was listening in.”
Kim Kyung-hwan’s face paled.
“Th-there wasn’t such a clause in the contract!” he stammered.
Hwang Soo-rim replied, “There wasn’t even a clause prohibiting it.”
“Then, can he hear everything I say? Like with a wiretapping device?”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Hwang Soo-rim explained, shaking her head, “whenever we discuss him, a hidden clause in our contract activates, allowing Eraser to eavesdrop for a limited time. It’s a precaution to prevent his identity from being exposed. There’s a penalty, of course, but he needs to gauge how much information has leaked.”
Kim Kyung-hwan’s shock was evident.
“Even though it doesn’t breach our contract, he can still overhear our conversation,” Hwang Soo-rim added. “I’ve insisted on clarifying this in the updated contract to prevent unintended eavesdropping. You’ll find it in the contract later.”
Kim Kyung-hwan, clearly overwhelmed, hesitated before saying, “So, he’ll hear everything I say now.”
After a moment of contemplation, he finally agreed, saying, “All right. Eraser already knows this anyway. It’s necessary. I have to tell you.”
With his fear and reluctance overcome, Kim Kyung-hwan believed it was crucial to share this information.
“The government has identified Eraser. I believe he’s aware of it,” he shared.
Kim Kyung-hwan continued, revealing what he had uncovered—Eraser’s true identity as Yoon Min-joon, the one responsible for the Busan incident.
Hwang Soo-rim’s expression remained composed. Kim Kyung-hwan suspected she was mindful of their surroundings. However, her response surprised him.
“I thought he might be younger than I imagined,” Hwang Soo-rim pondered.
Having worked closely with Eraser in another world for several months, she noticed that his speech and mannerisms were more in line with the current generation, unlike when he taught magic in her dreams.
“But twenty two years old?” she continued.
“I’m equally astonished. How did he attain such skill? How did he learn magic?” Kim Kyung-hwan wondered.
“There’s a possibility that it’s a false identity. Perhaps the real Yoon Min-joon is dead, and Eraser, an extraterrestrial race, has taken on his identity.” Hwang Soo-rim theorized.
“The government is considering that possibility as well. However, once his identity was discovered, it seems to be his true self, especially since his family also disappeared with him. What’s more…”
Kim Kyung-hwan paused briefly, then continued, “The government conducted some background checks, but it appears highly likely that Yoon Min-joon awakened his wizarding abilities even before the Channel opened. If that’s the case, the chances of him being of an extraterrestrial race diminish.”
“So, you’re saying he was a wizard even before the Channel opened?” Hwang Soo-rim sought confirmation, to which Kim Kyung-hwan simply nodded.
“Interestingly, it seemed like he had a fairly normal high school life. After Yoon Min-joon returned to Korea and vanished, the government interviewed his former classmates and teachers, individually, with various excuses.”
Kim Kyung-hwan continued speaking, with the awareness that his words would eventually reach Yoon Min-joon. After all, he was conveying this information to Eraser through Hwang Soo-rim. It was just that the intermediate process has been omitted.
“And then?” Hwang Soo-rim inquired.
“There were very few anecdotes about Yoon Min-joon that they could recall. When he attended school, it seemed like he spent most of his days sleeping. But… as they tried to track down the current whereabouts of his former classmates, something peculiar came to light.”
Kim Kyung-hwan’s gaze turned more intense.
“There were some classmates who attended high school with Yoon Min-joon who shared unusual commonalities. Exactly twelve subsequently developed a mysterious disease after graduation, leading to prolonged hospitalization. These incidents all occurred before the Channel opened.”
He continued to recount his memories, albeit with some hesitance.
“The common thread among them was that they had all been in the same class as Yoon Min-joon and had, in fact, bullied or physically assaulted him, considering he was a loner.”
“They physically harmed him?” Hwang Soo-rim questioned skeptically. It was hard for her to believe that Eraser would be so easily beaten.
“All of these classmates were in different grades when they shared a class with him. However, the timing of their illnesses was oddly synchronized. They fell ill less than a year after high school graduation. What’s more, their symptoms varied greatly, making it seem like they were oblivious to each other’s conditions.”
Kim Kyung-hwan recited what he remembered. They were afflicted by a baffling illness that eluded diagnosis and cure in any medical facility.
One person suddenly emitted a putrid odor resembling that of decaying corpses. Another had their face covered in numerous boils, akin to nipples, including the areolas and even nipples that continuously sprouted. Yet another suffered from relentless vomiting, triggered by mere skin contact with others. There was also an individual whose sweat transformed into a stubborn, yellowish mucus that clung persistently to their clothes, and the list went on.
What these cases shared was that their symptoms mostly hindered them from leading normal social lives, rather than inflicting direct physical pain. All twelve of them found themselves residing in hospitals, having forsaken their education or careers, albeit with slight variations depending on when the affliction had struck.
“There’s one exception,” Kim Kyung-hwan added.
The most unusual case was a male student who had bullied Yoon Min-joon the most during their senior year of high school. According to a classmate’s account, he had once subjected Yoon Min-joon to the humiliation of having his face shoved into a conventional toilet.
“That person… suffered from a rather complex condition.”
It was described that his anus had swelled to the size of a fist, rendering him incapable of normal bowel movements. The more pressing issue was that acute diarrhea persisted in this state. It was as though water gushed out of a blocked faucet, making daily life impossible. It was reported that each occurrence brought him excruciating pain.
“It’s almost like they’re under some kind of curse,” Hwang Soo-rim mumbled under her breath after listening to all of this. As she lost herself in thought, she added, “Could it be that Yoon Min-joon didn’t seek revenge right away after high school but rather started working on this? It seems more plausible than suddenly gaining magical abilities right after graduation.”
Kim Kyung-hwan nodded in agreement.
It appeared that Yoon Min-joon had deliberately chosen this method, knowing that if they fell ill immediately after the incidents in high school, suspicion would arise. By waiting a year or two, the resentment might have faded, but the memory of those events would remain, and the timing of his intervention would be impeccable.
On the other hand, Kim Kyung-hwan had some thoughts of his own. Yoon Min-joon couldn’t use magic when he faced bullies. And, he was turning his wildest imaginations into reality.
“The conclusion is, was he able to use magic even before the Channel opened? Independent magic that hasn’t been passed down by extraterrestrial races?”
Hwang Soo-rim nodded, her memory working overtime. “Kaifu instructors once told me that it wasn’t impossible. There are often people who develop their own talents without any formal training. It’s rather unusual for Earth that we couldn’t find such an example until the Channel opened.”
It remained one of the unsolved mysteries of humankind. Why hadn’t anyone showcased their wizardry before the Channel opened?
Perhaps Yoon Min-joon was the only such case discovered so far.
“So, what are you going to do from now on?”
With a gloomy expression, Kim Kyung-hwan answered Hwang Soo-rim’s question, “I should continue as I am now. Yesterday, the government looked at me and asked if I knew Yoon Min-joon. I have to keep pretending.”
“Yes, that’s a wise decision,” Hwang Soo-rim agreed.
“So, what’s your plan?” Kim Kyung-hwan asked her, curious.
Hwang Soo-rim replied, “Now, there’s only one task left, and my contractual obligations will be over. I’ll lay low until Eraser calls me, stuck in my house.”
“Has Eraser ever mentioned me?” Kim Kyung-hwan asked.
Since the Hun-neung incident, all Eraser had said was to wait for his call. There was no direct communication between Kim Kyung-hwan and Eraser other than through Hwang Soo-rim.
Hwang Soo-rim cast a quick glance at Kim Kyung-hwan and inquired, “Honestly, there wasn’t anything. Why? Does it bother you?”
Without hesitation, Kim Kyung-hwan responded, his tone laden with concern, “Yeah, it bothers me, quite a bit.”
Hwang Soo-rim raised an inquisitive eyebrow and pressed on, “You know, your contract doesn’t include any specific missions. It’s designed to work in your favor, letting you learn magic as he teaches you. Why the fixation on Eraser?”
Kim Kyung-hwan’s answer came in the form of silence. He kept his gaze locked on the ground, his troubled expression revealing nothing. Hwang Soo-rim let out a snort, perplexed by his reaction.
She assured him, “You don’t have to worry about Eraser causing harm. He’s also bound by the contract.”
Kim Kyung-hwan sighed, “No, I’m not really worried about that, but…”
As she observed Kim Kyung-hwan’s uncertainty, Hwang Soo-rim thought to herself.
They were both valuable tools for Eraser, whether they liked it or not. Despite knowing his real name, Eraser wouldn’t break the contract and harm them just because he felt reluctant.
If she had to describe Eraser in two words, it would be efficient and rational. Hwang Soo-Rim didn’t expect human emotions like conscience or recognition from Eraser, but she trusted his pragmatic approach to using valuable tools.
“Anyway, thanks for the information. Eraser will probably learn about it naturally, so there’s no need for me to pass it on separately.”
Kim Kyung-hwan urgently stopped Hwang Soo-rim, who was about to get up from her seat.
“Oh, wait a second. There’s one more thing.”
Hwang Soo-rim asked, “What is it?”
“It seems that China is eager to find Eraser. However, since there are no leads, there’s information suggesting they might be targeting another Korean wizard. They suspect a connection.”
Hwang Soo-rim responded, “By government standards… you’re the only wizard in Korea.”
Kim Kyung-hwan said with hesitation, “Well, you should be cautious too.”
Hwang Soo-rim said, “I’m already classified as confidential in government data. Our government was also deceived. Will China find out?”
“But you’re more skilled than the other trainees. I can see that. You can even move around freely now.” Kim Kyung-hwan insisted.
Hwang Soo-rim confirmed, “So, could I be a target too?”
“Yes, you should be careful,” Kim Kyung-hwan cautioned.
Hwang Soo-rim replied half-heartedly, not taking it too seriously. She got up from her seat, and as she turned to leave, Kim Kyung-hwan’s eyes remained fixed on her until she disappeared completely.
***
Incheon International Airport immigration desk.
An Asian young man handed over a U.S. passport. Despite his youthful appearance, his passport revealed him to be in his mid-20s. The immigration officer addressed him in English.
“Are you Mr. Saburo Shimatani?” the officer inquired.
“Yes, that’s correct,” Saburo affirmed.
The immigration officer pondered silently. Could he be of Japanese descent? Most Japanese individuals named Saburo tended to be older. The officer suppressed the notion that it was unusual for a young person.
“Did you obtain a D-6 visa?” the officer continued.
Saburo nodded.
The D-6 visa was granted to those invited by religious or social welfare organizations in Korea, exclusively for participation in related activities.
In recent days, there had been numerous arrivals at Incheon International Airport on this particular visa. The immigration officer asked with a more relaxed demeanor.
“Are you affiliated with GIBW?” the officer inquired again.
“Yes, that’s correct,” Saburo confirmed.
GIBW, the Global Initiative for a Better World, was renowned as the world’s largest aid foundation, headquartered in the United States.
“Many of your colleagues have arrived this week,” the officer observed.
“Yes, I’m running a bit behind schedule,” Saburo replied.
“Will you be heading directly to Busan after your transfer?” the officer asked further.
“That’s the plan,” Saburo confirmed once more.
Since the Busan incident, countless citizens had lost their homes. GIBW was mobilizing a substantial aid team to provide relief, and the government, despite initial reluctance due to proximity to the Channel, had eventually acquiesced.
“You’ve come here to do some good. Welcome to Korea,” the officer warmly greeted Saburo.
The officer stamped the passport without hesitation. Saburo received it with a beaming smile and proceeded to retrieve his luggage.
“Hmm?”
His attention was drawn to a group of about five or six men in casual attire waiting for their luggage near the conveyor belt. Glancing at the electronic display board, they appeared to be passengers arriving from Beijing, China.
“Look at them,” Saburo mused to himself.
He couldn’t help but display a faintly intrigued expression. Despite their attempts to conceal it, they couldn’t deceive his keen instincts.
Three of them are wizards. They’re also quite high-level. They’d be considered top-tier in any training center anywhere. Saburo thought.
After a brief moment of scrutiny, Saburo averted his gaze. According to the organization’s protocols, human wizards should be taken care of promptly upon identification. However, the current location and timing weren’t ideal.
First and foremost, there were too many ordinary people around. Furthermore, executives and apprentices were converging in Korea, driven by a more significant objective than those individual wizards.
As he mentally recorded their faces, flight number, and date of arrival, Saburo concluded. Perhaps they’re Chinese wizards? I’ll need to notify headquarters later.
Identifying their identities would not be challenging with just the flight number, date, and their faces. Deciding to postpone his pursuit of these potential targets, he located his luggage and discreetly exited the arrival hall.
Contrary to his earlier statement to the immigration officer, Saburo had no intention of heading to Busan. He hailed a taxi outside the airport and headed directly to a downtown Seoul hotel. headed straight to a hotel in downtown Seoul.
Kim Kyung-hwan wasted no time in setting up a meeting with Hwang Soo-rim. They met in a park, the same place where they had discussed Eraser’s identity before.
Sitting side by side on a bench, they discreetly kept their bodyguards at a distance. Hwang Soo-rim had taken precautions to ensure their conversation remained private, creating a sound barrier around them. Once she confirmed their privacy, Kim Kyung-hwan spoke up.
“Government knows Eraser’s–!” he blurted out.
Hwang Soo-rim quickly interjected, “Hold on.”
She took the lead in the conversation, explaining, “Considering the circumstances, I thought it best to inform you first. It’s possible that Eraser can now hear our conversation.”
“What?” Kim Kyung-hwan, taken aback, asked.
Hwang Soo-rim clarified, “The last time we met and discussed Eraser being human, he was listening in.”
Kim Kyung-hwan’s face paled.
“Th-there wasn’t such a clause in the contract!” he stammered.
Hwang Soo-rim replied, “There wasn’t even a clause prohibiting it.”
“Then, can he hear everything I say? Like with a wiretapping device?”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Hwang Soo-rim explained, shaking her head, “whenever we discuss him, a hidden clause in our contract activates, allowing Eraser to eavesdrop for a limited time. It’s a precaution to prevent his identity from being exposed. There’s a penalty, of course, but he needs to gauge how much information has leaked.”
Kim Kyung-hwan’s shock was evident.
“Even though it doesn’t breach our contract, he can still overhear our conversation,” Hwang Soo-rim added. “I’ve insisted on clarifying this in the updated contract to prevent unintended eavesdropping. You’ll find it in the contract later.”
Kim Kyung-hwan, clearly overwhelmed, hesitated before saying, “So, he’ll hear everything I say now.”
After a moment of contemplation, he finally agreed, saying, “All right. Eraser already knows this anyway. It’s necessary. I have to tell you.”
With his fear and reluctance overcome, Kim Kyung-hwan believed it was crucial to share this information.
“The government has identified Eraser. I believe he’s aware of it,” he shared.
Kim Kyung-hwan continued, revealing what he had uncovered—Eraser’s true identity as Yoon Min-joon, the one responsible for the Busan incident.
Hwang Soo-rim’s expression remained composed. Kim Kyung-hwan suspected she was mindful of their surroundings. However, her response surprised him.
“I thought he might be younger than I imagined,” Hwang Soo-rim pondered.
Having worked closely with Eraser in another world for several months, she noticed that his speech and mannerisms were more in line with the current generation, unlike when he taught magic in her dreams.
“But twenty two years old?” she continued.
“I’m equally astonished. How did he attain such skill? How did he learn magic?” Kim Kyung-hwan wondered.
“There’s a possibility that it’s a false identity. Perhaps the real Yoon Min-joon is dead, and Eraser, an extraterrestrial race, has taken on his identity.” Hwang Soo-rim theorized.
“The government is considering that possibility as well. However, once his identity was discovered, it seems to be his true self, especially since his family also disappeared with him. What’s more…”
Kim Kyung-hwan paused briefly, then continued, “The government conducted some background checks, but it appears highly likely that Yoon Min-joon awakened his wizarding abilities even before the Channel opened. If that’s the case, the chances of him being of an extraterrestrial race diminish.”
“So, you’re saying he was a wizard even before the Channel opened?” Hwang Soo-rim sought confirmation, to which Kim Kyung-hwan simply nodded.
“Interestingly, it seemed like he had a fairly normal high school life. After Yoon Min-joon returned to Korea and vanished, the government interviewed his former classmates and teachers, individually, with various excuses.”
Kim Kyung-hwan continued speaking, with the awareness that his words would eventually reach Yoon Min-joon. After all, he was conveying this information to Eraser through Hwang Soo-rim. It was just that the intermediate process has been omitted.
“And then?” Hwang Soo-rim inquired.
“There were very few anecdotes about Yoon Min-joon that they could recall. When he attended school, it seemed like he spent most of his days sleeping. But… as they tried to track down the current whereabouts of his former classmates, something peculiar came to light.”
Kim Kyung-hwan’s gaze turned more intense.
“There were some classmates who attended high school with Yoon Min-joon who shared unusual commonalities. Exactly twelve subsequently developed a mysterious disease after graduation, leading to prolonged hospitalization. These incidents all occurred before the Channel opened.”
He continued to recount his memories, albeit with some hesitance.
“The common thread among them was that they had all been in the same class as Yoon Min-joon and had, in fact, bullied or physically assaulted him, considering he was a loner.”
“They physically harmed him?” Hwang Soo-rim questioned skeptically. It was hard for her to believe that Eraser would be so easily beaten.
“All of these classmates were in different grades when they shared a class with him. However, the timing of their illnesses was oddly synchronized. They fell ill less than a year after high school graduation. What’s more, their symptoms varied greatly, making it seem like they were oblivious to each other’s conditions.”
Kim Kyung-hwan recited what he remembered. They were afflicted by a baffling illness that eluded diagnosis and cure in any medical facility.
One person suddenly emitted a putrid odor resembling that of decaying corpses. Another had their face covered in numerous boils, akin to nipples, including the areolas and even nipples that continuously sprouted. Yet another suffered from relentless vomiting, triggered by mere skin contact with others. There was also an individual whose sweat transformed into a stubborn, yellowish mucus that clung persistently to their clothes, and the list went on.
What these cases shared was that their symptoms mostly hindered them from leading normal social lives, rather than inflicting direct physical pain. All twelve of them found themselves residing in hospitals, having forsaken their education or careers, albeit with slight variations depending on when the affliction had struck.
“There’s one exception,” Kim Kyung-hwan added.
The most unusual case was a male student who had bullied Yoon Min-joon the most during their senior year of high school. According to a classmate’s account, he had once subjected Yoon Min-joon to the humiliation of having his face shoved into a conventional toilet.
“That person… suffered from a rather complex condition.”
It was described that his anus had swelled to the size of a fist, rendering him incapable of normal bowel movements. The more pressing issue was that acute diarrhea persisted in this state. It was as though water gushed out of a blocked faucet, making daily life impossible. It was reported that each occurrence brought him excruciating pain.
“It’s almost like they’re under some kind of curse,” Hwang Soo-rim mumbled under her breath after listening to all of this. As she lost herself in thought, she added, “Could it be that Yoon Min-joon didn’t seek revenge right away after high school but rather started working on this? It seems more plausible than suddenly gaining magical abilities right after graduation.”
Kim Kyung-hwan nodded in agreement.
It appeared that Yoon Min-joon had deliberately chosen this method, knowing that if they fell ill immediately after the incidents in high school, suspicion would arise. By waiting a year or two, the resentment might have faded, but the memory of those events would remain, and the timing of his intervention would be impeccable.
On the other hand, Kim Kyung-hwan had some thoughts of his own. Yoon Min-joon couldn’t use magic when he faced bullies. And, he was turning his wildest imaginations into reality.
“The conclusion is, was he able to use magic even before the Channel opened? Independent magic that hasn’t been passed down by extraterrestrial races?”
Hwang Soo-rim nodded, her memory working overtime. “Kaifu instructors once told me that it wasn’t impossible. There are often people who develop their own talents without any formal training. It’s rather unusual for Earth that we couldn’t find such an example until the Channel opened.”
It remained one of the unsolved mysteries of humankind. Why hadn’t anyone showcased their wizardry before the Channel opened?
Perhaps Yoon Min-joon was the only such case discovered so far.
“So, what are you going to do from now on?”
With a gloomy expression, Kim Kyung-hwan answered Hwang Soo-rim’s question, “I should continue as I am now. Yesterday, the government looked at me and asked if I knew Yoon Min-joon. I have to keep pretending.”
“Yes, that’s a wise decision,” Hwang Soo-rim agreed.
“So, what’s your plan?” Kim Kyung-hwan asked her, curious.
Hwang Soo-rim replied, “Now, there’s only one task left, and my contractual obligations will be over. I’ll lay low until Eraser calls me, stuck in my house.”
“Has Eraser ever mentioned me?” Kim Kyung-hwan asked.
Since the Hun-neung incident, all Eraser had said was to wait for his call. There was no direct communication between Kim Kyung-hwan and Eraser other than through Hwang Soo-rim.
Hwang Soo-rim cast a quick glance at Kim Kyung-hwan and inquired, “Honestly, there wasn’t anything. Why? Does it bother you?”
Without hesitation, Kim Kyung-hwan responded, his tone laden with concern, “Yeah, it bothers me, quite a bit.”
Hwang Soo-rim raised an inquisitive eyebrow and pressed on, “You know, your contract doesn’t include any specific missions. It’s designed to work in your favor, letting you learn magic as he teaches you. Why the fixation on Eraser?”
Kim Kyung-hwan’s answer came in the form of silence. He kept his gaze locked on the ground, his troubled expression revealing nothing. Hwang Soo-rim let out a snort, perplexed by his reaction.
She assured him, “You don’t have to worry about Eraser causing harm. He’s also bound by the contract.”
Kim Kyung-hwan sighed, “No, I’m not really worried about that, but…”
As she observed Kim Kyung-hwan’s uncertainty, Hwang Soo-rim thought to herself.
They were both valuable tools for Eraser, whether they liked it or not. Despite knowing his real name, Eraser wouldn’t break the contract and harm them just because he felt reluctant.
If she had to describe Eraser in two words, it would be efficient and rational. Hwang Soo-Rim didn’t expect human emotions like conscience or recognition from Eraser, but she trusted his pragmatic approach to using valuable tools.
“Anyway, thanks for the information. Eraser will probably learn about it naturally, so there’s no need for me to pass it on separately.”
Kim Kyung-hwan urgently stopped Hwang Soo-rim, who was about to get up from her seat.
“Oh, wait a second. There’s one more thing.”
Hwang Soo-rim asked, “What is it?”
“It seems that China is eager to find Eraser. However, since there are no leads, there’s information suggesting they might be targeting another Korean wizard. They suspect a connection.”
Hwang Soo-rim responded, “By government standards… you’re the only wizard in Korea.”
Kim Kyung-hwan said with hesitation, “Well, you should be cautious too.”
Hwang Soo-rim said, “I’m already classified as confidential in government data. Our government was also deceived. Will China find out?”
“But you’re more skilled than the other trainees. I can see that. You can even move around freely now.” Kim Kyung-hwan insisted.
Hwang Soo-rim confirmed, “So, could I be a target too?”
“Yes, you should be careful,” Kim Kyung-hwan cautioned.
Hwang Soo-rim replied half-heartedly, not taking it too seriously. She got up from her seat, and as she turned to leave, Kim Kyung-hwan’s eyes remained fixed on her until she disappeared completely.
***
Incheon International Airport immigration desk.
An Asian young man handed over a U.S. passport. Despite his youthful appearance, his passport revealed him to be in his mid-20s. The immigration officer addressed him in English.
“Are you Mr. Saburo Shimatani?” the officer inquired.
“Yes, that’s correct,” Saburo affirmed.
The immigration officer pondered silently. Could he be of Japanese descent? Most Japanese individuals named Saburo tended to be older. The officer suppressed the notion that it was unusual for a young person.
“Did you obtain a D-6 visa?” the officer continued.
Saburo nodded.
The D-6 visa was granted to those invited by religious or social welfare organizations in Korea, exclusively for participation in related activities.
In recent days, there had been numerous arrivals at Incheon International Airport on this particular visa. The immigration officer asked with a more relaxed demeanor.
“Are you affiliated with GIBW?” the officer inquired again.
“Yes, that’s correct,” Saburo confirmed.
GIBW, the Global Initiative for a Better World, was renowned as the world’s largest aid foundation, headquartered in the United States.
“Many of your colleagues have arrived this week,” the officer observed.
“Yes, I’m running a bit behind schedule,” Saburo replied.
“Will you be heading directly to Busan after your transfer?” the officer asked further.
“That’s the plan,” Saburo confirmed once more.
Since the Busan incident, countless citizens had lost their homes. GIBW was mobilizing a substantial aid team to provide relief, and the government, despite initial reluctance due to proximity to the Channel, had eventually acquiesced.
“You’ve come here to do some good. Welcome to Korea,” the officer warmly greeted Saburo.
The officer stamped the passport without hesitation. Saburo received it with a beaming smile and proceeded to retrieve his luggage.
“Hmm?”
His attention was drawn to a group of about five or six men in casual attire waiting for their luggage near the conveyor belt. Glancing at the electronic display board, they appeared to be passengers arriving from Beijing, China.
“Look at them,” Saburo mused to himself.
He couldn’t help but display a faintly intrigued expression. Despite their attempts to conceal it, they couldn’t deceive his keen instincts.
Three of them are wizards. They’re also quite high-level. They’d be considered top-tier in any training center anywhere. Saburo thought.
After a brief moment of scrutiny, Saburo averted his gaze. According to the organization’s protocols, human wizards should be taken care of promptly upon identification. However, the current location and timing weren’t ideal.
First and foremost, there were too many ordinary people around. Furthermore, executives and apprentices were converging in Korea, driven by a more significant objective than those individual wizards.
As he mentally recorded their faces, flight number, and date of arrival, Saburo concluded. Perhaps they’re Chinese wizards? I’ll need to notify headquarters later.
Identifying their identities would not be challenging with just the flight number, date, and their faces. Deciding to postpone his pursuit of these potential targets, he located his luggage and discreetly exited the arrival hall.
Contrary to his earlier statement to the immigration officer, Saburo had no intention of heading to Busan. He hailed a taxi outside the airport and headed directly to a downtown Seoul hotel. headed straight to a hotel in downtown Seoul.
