Something strange happened on the subway during my commute.
There were a lot of people. 8:20 a.m., Line 2, the usual crowding. Woo-joo was standing by the door, holding onto a pole, but his field of vision had changed. The outlines of the people around him were clear. Too clear. He could make out the muscles in the shoulder of the man standing beside him through his shirt, and he could see the breathing pattern of the woman sitting across from him. Short inhalations and long exhalations. She was tense. An interview? Since she was clutching a document envelope, it probably was.
He reached that conclusion in 0.2 seconds.
He had always been quick at reading people, but this wasn't a matter of speed. It was a matter of resolution. It felt as if the world had become one level sharper, like he'd increased the prescription in his glasses. It wasn't unpleasant. If anything, it felt natural. As if this was how things had always been meant to look, and he'd simply been seeing them through a blur until now.
He arrived at the office and started work. There still hadn't been any contact from Taegang Guild's legal team. It was the second day since the complaint had been filed. If Park Do-hyun's prediction was right, they would reach out today or tomorrow.
Woo-joo was organizing the materials for Jung Tae-ho's follow-up interview. He was able to concentrate well all morning. The remnants of last night's dream remained, but they were the kind that receded once he started working. The sensation of four people walking. The back of the person walking in front. The outlines of the other two.
He left the office at lunchtime.
He bought a triangle kimbap at a convenience store and sat on a bench in front of the building. The April sunlight was warm, and the leaves of the street trees swayed whenever the wind blew. As he unwrapped the triangle kimbap, Woo-joo looked across the street.
He could see a Rift Management Bureau field office.
He knew there was one nearby. Two blocks from the office. It was a small branch that handled hunter registration, rift reports, and guild-related complaints. The sign was small, so he normally never noticed it, but today, he saw it.
Today, he could see everything.
He finished the triangle kimbap and stood up. He was about to return to the office when his feet stopped. He was looking toward the Rift Management Bureau field office. He didn't know why he was looking at it, either. His gaze had simply come to rest there.
Should I go?
The thought surfaced, then disappeared. He had no reason to go. A non-Awakened person had no business visiting a Bureau field office. The legal materials concerning Awakened people could be accessed online.
He returned to the office.
It was around three in the afternoon. He was reading Jung Tae-ho's supplemental statement when his finger stopped. Beside the statement lay the Bureau report. The same report that had overlapped with something else yesterday. Today, it didn't overlap. Instead, something else appeared.
Printed at the bottom of the report was the Bureau's symbol. A design of intersecting lines inside a circle, representing a rift. The moment he saw it, his finger moved. Just as it had yesterday, he unconsciously traced the lines of the symbol in the air.
This time, he didn't stop.
As his finger followed the symbol, he read its structure. The points where the lines intersected, the curvature of the circle, the gaps between the lines. A sense rose within him that it wasn't merely a design, but part of some system. Just as the legislative intent hidden behind a statute became visible when he read a legal provision, there was something behind this symbol as well.
Woo-joo stopped his finger and looked at his hand.
What am I doing?
Just then, his phone rang. It was Taegang Guild's legal team.
The call lasted seven minutes. The other party was an assistant department head in Taegang Guild's legal team. His voice was polite but firm. He said they had reviewed the complaint and wanted to propose a settlement. As Woo-joo listened, he read the structure hidden between the man's words. This wasn't negotiation. It was pressure. He wasn't saying they would offer a settlement payment if Woo-joo withdrew the lawsuit. He was saying there would be consequences if he kept it going.
“I'll review it.”
He hung up. It was exactly as expected. He reported to Park Do-hyun and worked out a response strategy.
He left work at eight. It was a late departure, but his mind was clear. Clearer than usual, in fact. He felt less tired. That was strange, too.
On the way home, he walked instead of taking the subway. He didn't know why he wanted to walk, but his body wanted to. The April night air was cool and clean. Streetlights illuminated the sidewalk, and cars passed by now and then.
It happened after he'd walked about three blocks.
The air changed.
Not physically. The temperature, humidity, and wind were all the same. And yet the texture of the air had changed. He sensed that something was nearby. It wasn't danger. It was something more fundamental than danger. It felt as if one layer of the world's surface had been peeled away.
Woo-joo stopped walking and looked around.
To his left was a narrow alley between two buildings. That was where he felt it. The sensation of air being torn apart. There was nothing visible to the naked eye. A dark alley, a trash can, shadows untouched by the streetlights. But Woo-joo could see it.
Deep inside the alley, a hairline crack ran through empty space.
A thin line had been drawn across space itself, like a crack in glass. It was about thirty centimeters long. It didn't glow. It had no color. Space had simply split open. An ordinary person's eyes probably couldn't see it.
A rift.
The trace of a rift that hadn't opened yet, had only partially opened, or was in the process of closing.
Woo-joo stared at it. He was aware that he was looking at it. He knew that he was seeing something invisible to a non-Awakened person's eyes.
His heart began to race.
He took one step closer. The trace of the rift grew clearer. The closer he got, the more the texture of the air changed. Something like a faint electric current flowed over his skin. It wasn't unpleasant. If anything, it felt familiar. As if he knew this sensation. He didn't know when or where he had come to know it, but he did.
At that moment, something opened inside his mind.
A translucent window appeared in the center of his vision.
[Awakening detected.] [Hunter registration in progress.]
[Name: Kang Woo-joo] [Rank: E] [Unique ability: Insight (洞察)]
Standing inside the alley, Woo-joo looked at the window floating in midair.
He exhaled.
The window didn't disappear. Even when he blinked or turned his head, it followed his gaze. It was translucent, allowing the scenery behind it to show through, but the letters were clear. This was the “window” Awakened people talked about. The one he had read about hundreds of times in lawsuit materials. The system interface assigned upon hunter registration.
E-rank.
The lowest rank. That was the starting point he'd been given.
Woo-joo didn't know how to close the window. After staring into empty space for a few seconds, he instinctively withdrew his awareness. The window blurred, then disappeared. When he sent his awareness back, it reappeared. He could control it with his will.
He left the alley and stood on the sidewalk again. People passed by. No one looked at Woo-joo. No one saw the trace of the rift inside the alley.
He walked.
As he covered the remaining distance to his home, he thought. There was a lot to sort out. His awakening. E-rank. His unique ability, Insight. The fact that he could see traces of rifts. And what relationship all of this had with the sensations resembling memories that had continued for several days.
He arrived at his two-room apartment, closed the door, and took off his shoes. Instead of sitting on the sofa, he went straight to his desk. He opened his notebook and added new entries below the list of six phenomena he'd written down yesterday.
Seventh. The resolution of my vision has increased. I can read people's physical condition, emotions, and level of tension much more clearly than before.
Eighth. I could read the structure of the Bureau's symbol. It appeared to be a system rather than a design.
Ninth. I can see traces of rifts. Things invisible to the eyes of non-Awakened people.
Tenth. I awakened. E-rank. My unique ability is Insight.
He set down his pen and looked at the notebook.
Ten entries were listed there. The first through third were “the ability to see,” while the fourth through sixth were “something resembling memories.” The seventh through tenth were signs of awakening and the awakening itself.
Three strands were coming together as one.
His ability to see had grown stronger, his memories had begun to awaken, and at the end of it all had come his awakening. There was an order to it. A structure. It wasn't a coincidence.
And at the starting point of all of it was that man. The man he'd brushed past at the crosswalk. Broad shoulders, short hair, a rough appearance. Everything had accelerated from the moment he saw that man.
Woo-joo closed the notebook.
He had awakened. Kang Woo-joo, the attorney, was now Awakened. What he needed to do from tomorrow onward would be different. He had to register with the Bureau, confirm his legal status as an Awakened person, and inform the office as well.
But there was something he needed to do first.
He had to find that man.
Before his awakening, it had been an instinct. Now, it was certainty. There was something between that man and him. Whether it was a memory, a connection, or something he still couldn't name. Insight was telling him: Find that person. The clues would begin to unravel from there.
He showered and lay down in bed.
When he closed his eyes, a sensation came—not a dream. A dark, expansive space. A stone floor. The footsteps of four people. This time, it was a little clearer. Beyond the back of the person walking in front, he could see a faint light. They were heading somewhere. The four of them together.
The light was slowly drawing closer.