A pulse of emerald light filled the training chamber.
One by one, a series of messages flashed before Lee Seong-jun's eyes.
[The POS System detects a new change in user 'Lee Seong-jun'.]
[All stats (Strength, Agility, Health, and Blood) increase by 30.]
[The body's durability strengthens through complete bone transformation.]
[As the Qi Jing Pal Maek expands, the efficiency of internal energy circulation increases dramatically.]
A quiet, satisfied smile curved his lips.
An increase of thirty points across every attribute—growth on a scale most hunters could not dream of achieving in a lifetime. But numbers alone didn't tell the whole story. His entire body had evolved, reinforced from marrow to muscle, his meridians flowing smoother and stronger than ever before.
If he combined this newfound durability with the Sura Reverse Sky Attack, the strain that once tore at his body would now be greatly reduced. That meant one thing—he could push even further.
'At full power… my output might reach four times the previous limit. Equivalent to two hundred cycles.'
The idea was staggering, bordering on divine. Yet the real victory wasn't in raw strength—it was in the removal of restraint.
'The limit's been raised,' he thought, eyes gleaming.
He could feel it—the expansion of his vessel, the widening of his boundaries. What was once the summit now felt like a foothill.
If he continued to grow, fivefold power was no longer a fantasy. Perhaps, with enough mastery, even tenfold efficiency might one day be attainable.
"I'm finally starting to feel human again," he said with a small laugh.
To any other martial artist, this would already be a transcendental achievement—a lifelong culmination. But to Lee Seong-jun, who once stood among gods and demons, it was merely a return to form.
'Still… with a body like this, I can finally wield what's in my head.'
The stolen divine arts. Magic once belonging to gods themselves. Until now, his human body had struggled to channel them. But now—now he could experiment freely.
'The magic of the immortals wasn't just strange—it was terrifying.'
He remembered it vividly: divine clones that thought, fought, and killed independently; illusions that struck from nowhere; beings who moved like precognition made flesh.
'I won't be able to imitate them perfectly,' he admitted, 'but even fragments will be enough.'
If he fused the Asura Reverse Sky's destructive force with divine arts' ethereal precision, not even the most seasoned of natural-world masters could stand before him.
A dry chuckle escaped him. The thought alone was absurd—yet entirely real.
"I could probably win against a warrior who's reached full ascension."
He wasn't boasting. He was simply stating a fact. The difference between realms was usually vast—like the distance between earth and heaven. But for him, that distance was closing fast.
'Even the strongest ascendants won't be unreachable soon.'
It was then that the words of the Heavenly Lord resurfaced in his memory:
"When you shed your old shackles, you'll find what truly lies ahead."
At the time, he'd dismissed it as an excuse. Now, he finally understood.
'He wasn't wrong after all.'
His instincts screamed that this path would lead beyond even the power of demons. The corners of his lips curved upward.
"Coming back to Earth… was the right decision."
Two days later.
The sun dipped low over Hongdae—no, Yeonnam-dong, as it was properly called. Cafés buzzed with chatter, street musicians played beneath glowing signs, and the air was thick with laughter.
Lee Seong-jun stood quietly among the crowd, blending in with the illusionary magic concealing his presence.
"Hongdae's still the same," he murmured.
His phone buzzed. A message from Anna appeared on the screen:
Anna: Sorry, traffic's bad! I'll be five minutes late! Wait a bit! 😣💨
He smiled faintly.
'Five minutes, huh? She's earned far more of my time than that.'
He typed a short reply: Take your time.
Then, slipping the phone into his pocket, he took in the scene around him—the street artists, the young couples, the carefree laughter of a world worth protecting.
'So this is youth,' he mused.
Technically, he was twenty-six. But considering the centuries he'd lived in other worlds, he felt more like a weathered old man in a young man's body. Still, he couldn't complain. Every day spent in this peaceful world was a blessing.
'There's no need to chase youth,' he thought. 'Happiness is enough.'
Just then, the sound of footsteps approached.
Tap. Tap.
A man in a crisp black suit stopped before him, offering a business card with a polished smile.
"Hello. I'm Park Jun-hyung, president of Gadam Entertainment."
Seong-jun glanced at the card, then back at the man.
"I'm sorry," he said calmly. "I'm not interested in the entertainment industry."
"You're incredibly handsome and have perfect proportions," Park insisted. "You'd be a sensation. Just a few minutes of your time, please—"
"I have a friend coming soon."
The polite rejection only made the man's smile twist.
"Haa… you're really going to play hard to get?"
He gestured toward a sleek black car idling by the curb. Through the tinted glass, a woman's gaze lingered on Seong-jun like a hungry predator.
"Our lady's interested in you," Park said, voice dropping low. "Come along quietly, and you'll be well compensated. You understand?"
A faint sigh escaped Seong-jun's lips.
"I said no. I'll overlook this once. Take it as the greatest luck of your life."
Park's grin vanished. "Tsk. Should've just come willingly."
He reached out sharply—but before his hand even got close, it was effortlessly deflected. To Seong-jun, the motion was as slow as a leaf falling through air.
"I see. A hunter," Park muttered, his expression hardening. "But not one of the elites, I think. Probably below A-class."
He smirked, confident in his own strength—and his powerful backers.
Seong-jun simply shook his head.
"Everywhere I go… there's always trash."
Park's face twisted in fury. "Trash? You've got a big mouth for a pretty boy. I'll fix that before I take you to the lady."
Murderous aura flared—but to Seong-jun, it was little more than a breeze. He hadn't wanted to cause a scene, not when Anna was on her way. But if this fool insisted—
'So be it,' he thought, preparing to act—
And then a familiar, firm voice cut through the air.
"What do you think you're doing?"
He turned toward the sound.
Anna had arrived.