The neon sign of the Golden Dragon Bar flickered through the industrial district's haze, its red glow reflecting off puddles of yesterday's rain. Si-Woo's chest wounds throbbed with each step, a constant reminder of the Razorclaws. Of Min-Ji. Of So-hee's knowing look as he'd lied about meeting Ji-Hun.
Rust crept up the bar's metal doors like dried blood. A line of vehicles stretched across the lot – sleek Hunter-issued SUVs parked next to dented maintenance trucks. In the shadows between streetlights, figures shifted and whispered. Si-Woo's hand brushed the knife hidden in his jacket pocket.
The medical bills flashed through his mind. So-hee's trembling hands at dinner. Her next treatment due in days.
A Hunter Association patrol car cruised past, its headlights sweeping across the bar's entrance. Si-Woo pressed himself against the wall until it passed.
Inside, cigarette smoke hung thick enough to taste. Cracked leather booths lined the walls, their stuffing spilling out like old wounds. The room split itself in two – Hunters lounged in one corner, their gear worth more than Si-Woo made in a year. Maintenance workers huddled in the other, nursing cheap soju and avoiding eye contact.
Si-Woo felt the stares as he entered. The Hunters dismissed him with a glance at his worn clothes. The maintenance workers sized him up, wondering if he was Association plant.
A man detached himself from the shadows of a corner booth. His suit was expensive but deliberately understated. He moved with the careful grace of someone used to being watched.
"Drink?" The man slid a glass across the table.
Si-Woo left it untouched. "You sent the message?"
The man produced a tablet, scrolling through portal classification documents. Recent changes highlighted in red. "You've seen what's happening in the C-ranks. Smart man like you must have questions."
"Why show me this?"
"We need people on the inside. People who can verify classifications before maintenance crews go in." The man's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Triple your current pay. Plus hazard bonuses for any... discrepancies you find."
"You're having higher-ranked monsters moved to lower dungeons."
"Smart man indeed." The tablet disappeared into his jacket. "The question is, what will you do with that information?"
Si-Woo's fingers tightened around the glass. "Are you behind this?"
"No." The man's expression hardened. "But I know who is. Someone high up in Aegis has been manipulating the Portal classifications. Moving S and A-rank monsters into lower dungeons."
Si-Woo's wounds ached at the memory of the Razorclaws. Those hadn't been normal C-rank creatures. "Why?"
"That's what we need to find out." The man leaned forward, his voice dropping. "Look, I work in Portal Assessment. Started noticing patterns. Documents vanishing. Classification data altered. But I can't get close enough to gather proof."
"And maintenance workers can."
"Exactly. You'd have access to areas Hunters never see. Places where they might slip up, leave evidence." The man pulled out a maintenance request form. "There's a job next week. D-rank portal cleanup. Perfect cover for someone who knows what to look for."
Si-Woo studied the form. The location matched an area where three maintenance crews had reported unusual monster activity last month.
"Why trust me?"
"Because you've got more reason than most to want the truth. Your teammate in the hospital. Your sister's medical bills." The man raised his hands at Si-Woo's sharp look. "I did my research. You're not the only one who's lost people to these 'classification errors.'"
Si-Woo slid the data chip into his jacket. His fingers brushed against the cold metal of his knife.
"I'll do it."
The man pulled out a burner phone. "Use this. Check in daily. If you miss a check-in, we'll assume the worst."
Si-Woo pocketed the phone. The weight of it pressed against his chest like a stone.
"One more thing." The man's voice dropped. "Watch for a woman with a silver pendant. Shape of a tree. She handles the real paperwork. The stuff they don't want anyone to see."
Si-Woo pushed back from the table. The Hunters in the corner had grown quiet, their attention fixed on his booth. He kept his movements casual, measured. The maintenance workers tracked him with hollow eyes as he crossed the floor.
Outside, the night air hit his face like a slap. The neon sign buzzed overhead, casting everything in blood-red shadows. Si-Woo's hands shook as he walked away from the bar. Not from fear – he'd faced worse in the dungeons. From anger. At Aegis. At the system that forced people like Min-Ji into death traps disguised as safe zones.
The burner phone felt heavy in his pocket. Triple pay. It would cover So-hee's treatments for months. Maybe even get her into one of the experimental programs the private hospitals offered.
But if Aegis caught him...
A police siren wailed in the distance. Si-Woo quickened his pace, staying close to the shadows of buildings.
Si-Woo's boots crunched against broken concrete as he cut through the industrial district. The abandoned Portal sites loomed like dead giants, their metal frames stripped bare by scavengers. A maintenance crew huddled around a generator, checking equipment before their night shift. Their faces bore the same hollow-eyed exhaustion he saw in the mirror each morning.
The image of Min-Ji in her hospital bed flashed through his mind. The bandages. The machines. Her family's tears. The data chip pressed against his leg with each step, a constant reminder of the choice before him.
Triple pay meant So-hee's treatments for months. Maybe even that experimental therapy the private clinics whispered about. But if Aegis caught him... He'd seen what happened to people who crossed the corporation. Disappearances. Accidents. Bodies found in low-level dungeons, officially listed as "training incidents."
A crew chief nodded as Si-Woo passed. He recognized the man - Park, or maybe Park's brother. Another face from the endless grind of Portal maintenance. Another person one bad day away from ending up like Min-Ji.
The stairs to his apartment creaked under his weight. Five floors up, his legs burning, he reached their floor. The hallway light flickered, casting strange shadows.
His heart stopped. The door stood slightly open, a thin line of darkness visible through the gap.
"So-hee?" He pushed inside, knife already in hand.
The living room light was on. Pills scattered across the floor like fallen stars. A water glass lay shattered near the couch.
So-hee lay curled on her side, trembling. Her breathing came in short, sharp gasps.
"I'm here." He dropped beside her, gathering her small frame into his arms. Her skin felt cold and clammy. "I've got you."
"Sorry," she whispered between breaths. "Tried to... reach the emergency pills..."
Si-Woo held her until the tremors subsided, guilt crushing his chest. He should have been here. Should have known better than to leave her alone after this morning's episode.
The data chip burned in his pocket. One bad seizure without medication... He couldn't risk losing her. Not like their parents. Not like Min-Ji.
Si-Woo lifted So-hee from the cold floor, her body light as a child's in his arms. Her breathing steadied as he carried her down the narrow hallway to her room. The medication bottles rattled in his pocket with each step.
"I can walk." So-hee's voice came out weak, but her grip on his shirt remained strong.
"Just rest." He laid her on the bed, pulling the worn blanket up to her shoulders. Her face had regained some color, but dark circles lingered under her eyes. He placed two pills and a fresh glass of water on her nightstand.
"Stay until I fall asleep?"
Si-Woo sat on the edge of her bed, like their father used to do. So-hee's hand found his, squeezing once before her eyes drifted shut.
Back in his room, Si-Woo slumped against the wall. The concrete felt cool against his forehead. His hands shook as he pulled out the burner phone, turning it over and over.
What kind of brother was he? Running around in bars while So-hee suffered alone on the floor. One seizure without medication... one bad fall...
The medical bills piled on his desk mocked him. Red stamps marked "FINAL NOTICE" and "PAYMENT OVERDUE" screamed from every envelope. The experimental treatment So-hee needed - the one that might actually help - cost more than he'd make in five years of maintenance work.
Si-Woo pressed his palms against his eyes until spots danced in his vision. He couldn't keep doing this. Couldn't keep watching So-hee waste away while he scraped by on cleanup jobs and prayed for overtime.
The burner phone felt heavy in his hand. Triple pay. Access to restricted areas. A chance to expose whatever corruption had nearly killed Min-ji.
A chance to save So-hee.
His fingers tightened around the phone. The choice wasn't really a choice at all. He'd walk into hell itself if it meant keeping his sister alive.