A shadow enveloped Chi-Woo from behind.

“Um…Sir hero.” It was a familiar voice. Chi-Woo looked up with a sense of relief. A middle-aged man was standing awkwardly in front of him; he was the one who had spied on Chi-Woo, threatened him with his sword, and went to the ranch with him. 

“Is…” the middle-aged man asked carefully, “Is there really no other way this time…?”

Chi-Woo closed his eyes. He had been expecting this. He knew someone would soon approach him, only to have their hope crushed. 

‘This is why…’ It was unfair that he had to feel pressured and guilty by people’s expectations that he had no control over. ‘I….’ Chi-Woo suddenly recalled Giant Fist’s words. 

[However, you returned as a hero.]

[So you have to be a hero, sir.]

Chi-Woo sighed. “…Yes…” He hung his head low. The greater the hope, the greater the disappointment—someone who had their hope shattered often ended up despairing; they gave up on everything and became enraged. Chi-Woo knew this better than anyone else since he had gone through an endless cycle of hope and despair.

“I don’t know about the broken ones, but…the mutated cursed ones are beyond…” Chi-Woo couldn’t bear to look at the villager as the man fell into despair and became enraged. He squeezed his...