The giant screen darkened, and in its lower center a bright light gathered. It grew into a rectangle, then took the shape of a doorway, and that portion of the screen swung open on both sides. Chatterbox stepped forward two paces into the opened portal. He turned his torso toward me and extended a hand.

“And for you, I have one proposal.”

Though the door shimmered with white light, everything beyond it was pitch black. I could guess what he’d propose—there weren’t many options. I glimpsed Yuhyun springing to his feet; he shook his head briefly. The audience was still out there. The broadcast was surely still rolling.

Because we’ll continue living in this world.

‘It might not be so bad to be driven out as a villain, actually.’

I’d have no obligations, total freedom. But I still disliked the thought of others being blamed because of me. Yuhyun wouldn’t care, but… it’s me he hates.

I stepped toward Chatterbox. He led the way through the portal. We descended only a few steps down the stage’s hidden stairway before it became so dark I could barely find the edge with my toes. The door behind us closed, and even Chatterbox’s outline was blurred in the pitch-black corridor. He raised his hand and snapped his index finger against his thumb.

Flare—

Tiny white flames sparked along the walls.

“In this world, such spaces…”

Thud, thud, thud. Our footsteps on the stairs echoed like drums.

“Are often tombs. Pyramids of Egypt, for example.”

So what of it? I wanted to say, but kept silent. We walked down the corridor until we came to a door—it opened onto an ordinary waiting room. My chest loosened with relief.

“Would you care for some tea?”

Chatterbox extended a long arm and lifted a teapot. His tall, slender limbs moved with the grace of a crane, yet I felt the chill of encountering a monstrous insect—each movement felt like dozens of spindly legs crawling across his skin.

…Maybe I was simply prejudiced. Ordinary people probably saw him as a glamorous celebrity. Certainly, if I’d pulled out my phone, news of this would be all over the internet by now.

I said nothing, and the tea was poured for me. Steam rose from the cup without any heating. Chatterbox held up a neatly wrapped tea bag.

“A tea bag, after putting on all that airs and luxury?”

“The tea we serve would not suit you otherwise, I’m afraid.”

“Our”? I paused, then realized that the other “we” must be the King of the Harmless. Chatterbox tore the wrapper, lifted the bag into my cup. The string with its tag draped outside, and the transparent water tinted a deep red.

“The ever-exalted Guild Master of Sesung brewed tea personally—and you offer me this?”

I perched on the edge of my seat and sipped. The aroma was pleasant; the taste was tolerable. But there were no snacks. And I certainly wasn’t touching whatever pastries Chatterbox had baked.

“So what’s your proposal? Once the audience vanishes, there’ll be plenty ready to storm the stage—just spit it out.”

Even if he guaranteed my safety, how long could that last? The corners of his mouth curved in a soft smile.

“If, in the final game, you follow my instructions—”

“You won’t harm my precious people, right? Boo-hoo, how pathetic.”

I lifted the teacup calmly. The warmth traveled down my throat.

“As you say, I don’t care much for you. But I’m not prepared to stake my life.”

After all, I wanted to live. Even if I don’t cherish myself, many do care for and need me.

…Still.

“I am curious to hear more. Let’s continue.”

“Just give yourself up, and you shall.”

Sweet and easy words.

“I do not wish for your life to end, nor do I wish even the slightest scratch upon you.”

“Of course. A priceless heirloom you are.”

“Yet you’re not quite enough to take her place.”

“Pardon me, but I am a healthy—well, not perfectly healthy, yet generally fit—male of the Republic of Korea, who even completed military service. Try stripping that away, you madman.”

Chatterbox paid no heed. Gender was inconsequential to him—as irrelevant as a sculptor caring whether /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ his stone block was male or female. Merely material.

“I do not expect perfection, but at least in this party, I would have you be the strongest, most radiant presence.”

“I recommend the Guild Master of Sesung.”

If you touch him, I’ll tear out your hair myself. If they kill each other in the struggle, so much the better.

“Mr. Seong Hyeonje—the ‘Seong’ in his name—shines brilliantly without effort. I know him personally; shall I make an introduction?”

“But alone you cannot accomplish it.”

“You yourself said you ranked first overall. Has it been an hour?”

“Given your F-rank stats, viewers will accept a bit of assistance. Consider it a perk of first place.”

“So I’m your invisible man? Aah, mic check, one two.”

“Of course your own abilities matter. This is, in essence, a wager.”

Chatterbox extended his hand; a contract unfurled from his palm.

“I vow to assist you so thoroughly that no viewer shall doubt its fairness. And whenever you achieve certain milestones, I will safeguard your loved ones from me.”

“…To what extent?”

“So long as you do not strike first, I shall not harm them. Initially, I planned to handle everything before you.”

Chatterbox’s eyes curved like a crescent moon in a smile.

“Now, something more important has arisen. Should you stand perfectly atop all others, I shall protect each one of your dear ones, without limit.”

“……”

Frankly, the contract held no clear downside for me. I would give my best regardless. Even without help, I’d have garnered enough results to protect three or four people from Chatterbox’s interference. So I should accept.

“And once elevated by force, what then? Will I become a specimen on display?”

“Rest assured, I shall preserve you well. That begins the moment the party ends.”

Until then, the contract shields them. Chatterbox spoke softly. Now, I was but raw material under refinement. I rubbed my thigh lightly. The discomfort from today’s stage rose in my chest again.

Today, I saved people. That’s how it must have appeared. But it wasn’t me—it was the image Chatterbox built and led. At this rate, the final game will not be truly my triumph either. Just when Han Yujin was beginning to…

“Even should you fail to honor this contract, there is no penalty upon you.”

His voice was beguiling.

“It is a results-based agreement. Should you fall without my aid, so be it—I shall simply gain an unsatisfactory legacy.”

I could sign and still back out later. A pen appeared beside the teacup.

“…This is overwhelmingly in my favor. Such contracts always carry some hidden snare.”

“This contract serves solely my satisfaction. For the beloved mist.”

Any affection he claimed was merely his own craving. And though I claimed I signed for my loved ones, that too was my selfish desire. The pen hovered over empty space. The contract bore no outright harm—only benefit. Again and again I confirmed it. So I could sign it…

Beep—!

An alarm sounded from Chatterbox’s waist. He drew his communicator.

[“Hunter Seong Hyeonje has accused Hunter Moon Hyunah of assault!”]

Huh?

[“Now—”]

Amid the staff member’s voice:

[“Charge the repair fees to Sesung!”]

I heard Hyunah’s voice. I quickly checked my phone. A viewer was streaming the scuffle.

└ “Hyunah unnie is amazing!!!!!! Love you!!!!!!!!!!!”

└ “I just want to stay and watch”

└ “Gathered all these S-Ranks and no fight is a miracle LOL”

Fortunately, the fight wouldn’t tarnish my image. Then perhaps—

‘Is this on purpose?’

I don’t want them smashing the stage to retrieve me. But some accidental wrecking among S-Ranks? Fine by me. No casualties, and they’ll compensate repairs. The spectators would be thrilled.

[“Hunter Han Yuhyun says Philip Mars Hunter insulted him—ugh!”]

Bang! A loud bang shook the ceiling. Chatterbox stared into empty air.

“Most have refused to move. Today’s events are effectively concluded.”

Rumble—another collapse somewhere. With Peace here, he’d fetch me soon. Chatterbox’s eyes turned to me. I hesitated, then stowed the contract and pen in my inventory. Immediately—

Kraang!

A massive window burst through the wall. A black silhouette alighted upon its ledge, cape whipping.

“Hello, Director Han. Not sure if you heard, but your repairs are on them~”

Hyunah beckoned with a flourish as Seong Hyeonje stood on the ledge, hands clasped at his chest in greeting. Then the opposite wall—

Shreek!

Sliced away. With a woosh of swirling air, his black sword flew back into his hand and disappeared.

—Kiiang!

Compact, Peace rushed to me, circling at my feet. Yuhyun stepped forward, feigning apology.

“I tried to hold back, but they kept taunting.”

“Good for you.”

I felt sorry for the Hunters who might have cursed but knew not whether they truly had.

“Uncle— I was just here to watch!”

Yerim teleported in a gasp, cutting between Chatterbox and me. I spotted Song Taewon too—he’d come to monitor potential disasters, but he must know the real reason for this madness. Yet he did not intervene.

“Well, how many S-Ranks gathered? This is mild. Isn’t that right, Chatterbox?”

I joked, and he smiled, nodding slightly.

“The S-Rank Hunters around Han Yujin are very close-knit, thanks to him.”

“I won’t charge you compensation. Please return to your seats.”

This time, no one objected. We arrived at the hotel lobby, and Seong Hyeonje descended from the shattered window.

“Do you really want to settle this properly?”

At Hyunah’s words, he shrugged. Yerim narrowed her eyes and pressed close to me.

“What did that ghost do?”

“Just had tea.”

Faces around us conveyed disbelief. I smiled awkwardly.

“He said he’d help me win the final game perfectly.”

“Is that really it? Sounds like a bargain to me, uncle.”

“Don’t let your guard down, brother.”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t answer.”

Not yet.

That night, before sleep, I signed the contract. Ironically, everyone had come to help me, so the decision was easy. Chatterbox reappeared to brief me on the last game and lent me a few items. I must remember to return them.

At dawn:

“Yujin.”

A golden dragon arrived. I took the file he handed me, verified its contents, and saved it to my phone.

“…There’s a letter here.”

Noah scowled, handling it like a filthy object as he presented it.

“A Chinese sender, apparently.”

“Oh?”

“It says they translated it into Korean.”

Of course. I unfolded the letter—it was a self-proclaimed, love-filled cheer message. Noah neatly dissolved the letter with a touch of poison. Now that was something I wish I hadn’t seen.

“Look, Uncle! They’re treating you like a hero!”

Yerim waved a magazine energetically. An F-rank Hunter saving over ten thousand people from an anti-Hunter mob—Chatterbox must have paid off the press; it was nothing but praise.

“Uh, right.”

Were they planning to embarrass me to death? This wasn’t truly my deed, so it felt even more unsettling.

“Chatterbox rumors are everywhere, though.”

Page after page, Yerim pouted.

“What’s so great about his face being revealed? He’s not that handsome.”

“Yuhyun’s better-looking.”

“That’s not the point! Honestly—”

Yerim glared at Yuhyun standing beside me, then continued.

“He’s better than Chatterbox, but—ignoring my preferences—objectively, I don’t like his face much.”

She’d said he was handsome when they first met. If I reminded her, she’d sulk—I merely laughed.

“A hero of America!”

Hyunah raised her thumb with a grin. I wanted to disappear. Other Hunters, stop staring—what are you gawking at?

Later, Chatterbox ascended the podium.

“Attendees, regrettably, today is the final event of the party.”

No one looked sorrowful. Everyone’s eyes glittered with anticipation of rewards. Eager to end and claim their prizes.

“Now, Hunter Han Yujin.”

At his call, I rose and stepped onto the stage.

“Hunter Han Yujin, first in overall performance, you are both the guest of honor and the reward.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep